Vampire Legacy 04 - Blood of My Blood

by Taylor, Karen E

  She gave a weak snort that might have been amusement, but didn't open her eyes. "Been lying here for what feels like most of the afternoon; a few more minutes won't kill me. But hurry."

  It only took a few minutes to make the call and gather up some blankets from my bed upstairs. The scent of the candles still lingered in the room and in the fabric, for which I was grateful. I had no desire to present the ambulance crew with a bloodless body to carry away.

  Elly stirred slightly as I wrapped the blankets around her. "They will be here soon." I began to get up, but she reached up and grabbed my hand.

  "Don't leave me, Deirdre," she whispered. "The woods are full of evil."

  "Hush, Elly. Don't be silly. There is no evil in these woods. You are in shock, and it is no wonder. You have lost a great deal of blood. Your mind is wandering."

  She gripped my hand with more strength now. "There's nothing wrong with my mind. Just don't leave me."

  I sighed and sat down cross-legged next to her. "I am here." I pulled her hand away from mine and tucked her arm back under the comforter, but left my hand on top of hers through the fabric, so she could feel my presence. "I am here, Elly. And I will stay with you until they get here."

  "Talk to me, Deirdre. Give me something to concentrate on. I don't want to drift away."

  "What should I talk about?"

  "Tell me about how you became what you are."

  I laughed in spite of the seriousness of the situation. "Very well," I said. "That will guarantee you won't drift away. It is not exactly a bedtime story."

  She gave a weak smile and began to talk.

  "It was 1860. Right before the war. I was seven months pregnant and my husband and I, oh, we were so happy. We had married late, you see, and I was old to be having a first child."

  "How old?"

  "Twenty-eight."

  Elly smiled. "That's a magic age. And not too old for children."

  "Not now, no. But then? Most of my friends had been married for ten years or more, with a brood of children to show for it. It was a different time." I sighed. "As for it being a magic age, try being twenty-eight for over a century. I would give a lot to see just one gray hair in the mirror. Or just one wrinkle. But that's not in the story." I reached over and smoothed her hair back. "It was cold that night. Raining. We had been at his sister's house, and decided to take the ride back regardless of the weather and the lateness of the hour. The horse took a fright, the carriage overturned, my husband died. I went into labor. And then I was rescued." I gave a short, hard laugh. "At first I thought it was my husband, that everything would be well. But the eyes were all wrong, the hands were all wrong and I was damned forever."

  Elly had grown quiet; her eyes were closed, but her face was still twisted in pain. "It was not his bite that turned me, you understand. I fought him, fought him hard, knowing even amidst the pain and the darkness and the death, that what he was forcing on me was wrong. Oddly enough, the fighting both saved me and doomed me. He didn't drain me dry and leave me dead, true, but after that time his blood was in my blood, his legacy in my soul. And he abandoned me then, to find my own way."

  Elly made no response; she had either passed out or fallen asleep. The smell of her blood filled my head; I touched my hand into the pool below her leg and brought it up to my mouth. The little bit of blood remaining was cold and sticky and coated with dirt from the ground. Still, it was blood, and human blood at that, so I licked my hand, slowly at first, savoring the taste. The Cat howled, frustrated with this half feeding. "Tonight, my pet," I soothed it, "we will feed tonight. But not this blood."

  I finished cleaning my hand just as the ambulance pulled up. The two medics worked quickly and efficiently, examining Elly and getting her onto a stretcher and into the back of the vehicle. They asked me questions while they worked.

  "How did this happen?" The driver's tone was brisk and slightly accusatory.

  I wiped my hand on the side of my pants, feeling strangely guilty for what little taste of blood I'd had. "I don't really know. She said she fell."

  "A pretty bad break for just a fall. When did it happen?"

  I thought for a second. "Not that long ago, I would suppose. Probably an hour or two before sunset."

  "Where were you at the time?"

  "When she fell? I was upstairs, either sleeping or dressing."

  "Sleeping? At sunset?"

  I shrugged. "I'm a bit of a night owl, I fear. Otherwise I would have been here when she fell. Or I would have been able to prevent it."

  "Are you next of kin by any chance?"

  I gave him a sharp glance. "No, only a neighbor.

  Why do you ask? Surely her injuries cannot be that serious."

  He shook his head. "She's lost a lot of blood and she's unresponsive. At the very least she'll probably need a transfusion. I was just hoping you two were related. Makes it a bit easier, is all. No problem, Elly's well known around here; we'll have no trouble finding a donor if we need one. Shall we go?"

  "We?" I glanced at the evening sky. I had hoped to get back to Mitch soon, but felt an obligation to make sure that Elly would be all right. Mitch would wait. "Fine." I began to step into the back of the vehicle.

  "Why don't you ride up front with me?" the driver asked, "and John will ride in the back."

  "Fine," I agreed again. I opened the door and settled into the seat.

  John sat in the back, and the driver slammed the doors and got in behind the wheel, turning on the siren and heading carefully out of the dirt road to the main highway.

  "So," he said to me over the sound of the siren, "who are you anyway? I thought I knew everyone round here."

  "Deirdre Griffin-Greer. I live in the cabin next to Elly's."

  "Oh. The new summer folk. I see."

  "Not exactly summer folk, since we were here all last winter. But I get your point. And you?"

  "Nope. I've lived here all my life."

  I laughed. "No, your name?"

  "Oh." He blushed slightly. "Bob Stephens. Pleased to meet you."

  "Not such pleasant circumstances, I fear. Will she be all right?"

  "Should be. She's a strong old bird. Strange, too. Sort of our local wise woman." He gave me a sideways glance. "Some call her a witch. Which is nonsense, of course. There's no such thing. But she's highly respected; folks will be real upset if something happened to her. Are you sure you don't know how she fell?"

  "Yes, I'm sure. I didn't push her, if that's what you are implying."

  "Not implying anything. Just curious."

  We pulled up at the hospital and they rushed her inside. "Stick around," Bob said to me. "We'll need someone to fill out forms and such."

  I sighed. "I'm not sure how much help I will be, but I will stay. For a while."

  Over the many years I have developed an active dislike for hospitals. For one with heightened senses, they can be agony. The sounds of pain, the smells of sickness, death and despair are overwhelming, frightening in their intensities. This place was no different from countless other hospitals I had encountered. The accumulated scents of distress and fear hung heavy in the air, making the space feel closed and entrapping.

  Still, I sat in the emergency waiting room for a while, attempting to occupy my mind with magazines and television, but the Cat was restless and so was I.

  A woman came in, cradling a small child in a blanket. "She was running," the mother said to the nurse hurriedly, "and fell down." She flipped the blanket back, exposing the little girl's knee, wrapped with a red-stained towel. "She must've been carrying a glass of something, I guess, and it broke when she fell. There's a huge piece still stuck in there. I couldn't pull it out."

  The scent of blood and panic washed through the room and I caught my breath. This was torture, for the Cat as well as for me.

  Quickly I moved out of the room and walked up to the reception desk. "Excuse me," I said to the nurse on duty, "if there is any news of Elly, can you let me know? I'll be right outside the door
s. I really need some air."

  She looked up at me with tired eyes. "Don't we all, honey? Go on out. If I hear anything, I'll let you know."

  * * *

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  « ^ »

  The rain had stopped and the sky was almost clear, but it had gotten colder.

  "Think it'll snow?"

  I turned around and saw the ambulance driver, huddled over, smoking by the outdoor ashtray.

  "Probably," I said, walking toward him. I glanced at the sky again. "But not for a while."

  He laughed. "You can tell?"

  I nodded. "Usually." Then I gestured to his hand. "Would you happen to have an extra? I hate waiting and I hate hospitals."

  "You and everyone else in the world." He handed me a cigarette and lit it for me.

  "Thanks."

  We stood silently for a while until he cleared his throat. "It's Deirdre, isn't it?"

  I nodded.

  "So, Deirdre, why were you sleeping at Elly's place instead of your own?"

  "More questions? You should be careful what you ask, Bob."

  He shrugged. "Can't help myself, really. Just naturally curious, I guess. You don't have to answer, you know."

  "But still you keep asking. The last time a man got this interested in my life…" My voice trailed off. I should not have come here, I thought. I should have gone home to Mitch.

  "What happened to him?"

  I laughed. "He asked so many questions that I had to marry him."

  "Oh. A fate worse than death, then?" He was smiling at his joke.

  "Actually, Bob, that is not too terribly far from the truth."

  He stared at me a long time. "You're not kidding, are you?"

  "No. Excuse me, I should go back inside and see about Elly."

  "Damn, I'm sorry. I should have told you earlier, I guess, and I meant to, but it slipped my mind. Elly's fine. You could see her if you wanted, but she's heavily sedated right now. I suspect she'll sleep till tomorrow morning. Probably best that you come back later."

  He stared off into the trees and shook his head "It really was quite a nasty break. I'd still like to know how it happened."

  "So would I."

  He lit up another cigarette and offered one to me. I shook my head. "No, I should be going."

  "Where?"

  "Home. Thank you for all your help." I began to walk away from him.

  "Hey, how are you going to get there?"

  I'd planned to get into the woods as quickly as possible and give free rein to the Cat. But I could hardly admit that.

  "I'll walk."

  "Don't be ridiculous. All that way? In the dark? In the cold? I'm off duty now. Let me get my stuff together and I'll drive you. I need to stop by Elly's place and lock up, anyway."

  Bob drove a little red convertible with plates reading BABEMGNT. After I'd settled into the seat I turned to him and smiled. "Babe Management?"

  Even in the darkness of the car, I could tell that he was blushing.

  "They're old plates. From my youthful days. I just never got around to changing them. And besides, it's Babe Magnet."

  "Oh." I gave him an appraising glance. He was quite good-looking; although just a few inches taller than I, he was well-proportioned and muscular, with clean features and white teeth. I could well believe the epithet was apt.

  "Youthful days? And just when would that have been? Two years ago?"

  "More like nine years. I don't think I'm any younger than you. You're what? Twenty-six? Twenty-seven?"

  "Close enough."

  We rode in silence for a while.

  "So why were you sleeping at Elly's place?"

  "You never stop, do you? If you must know, my husband and I had a small disagreement." Yes, I thought to myself, if hearing that someone you love wants to kill you could be considered small.

  "Eh. Marriage. I have to admit I don't understand it. And I wasn't very good at it. This your first?"

  "Second, actually." The tone of my voice went flat, expressionless.

  "A rough time, Deirdre? And this one isn't going any better? You can tell me all about it."

  "No," I said firmly, "the first was not a rough time. He died. And Mitch is not a rough time, either."

  "Which, if you don't mind my saying so, is why you spent the night at Elly's place. I understand."

  "No, Bob. I do not think you do. But it does not matter."

  He gave a small snort of amusement. "You're probably right, especially since I don't seem to be getting anywhere. You can't blame a guy for trying."

  Trying? Was that what he was doing? And was I that much out of practice? I had been holed up for way too long, I realized, to not recognize a pickup attempt. I glanced over at him again, reassessing, reevaluating. Yes, he would do. He would do quite well.

  Still, I was nervous. I had fed for over a year from animals or from the supplies that Sam provided; I was a long way from the lone huntress I'd been. "But fresh blood," the Cat protested. "You promised fresh blood."

  "That I did, my pet," I whispered as the car pulled into a rutted lane that led to Elly's cabin. "And we shall have it."

  Bob stopped the car. "I'll just be a second," he said, opening the car door. "Have to make sure everything is secure."

  I followed closely behind him. "I will come in with you if you don't mind. I need to get my stuff together and use the bathroom. I will only be a few minutes."

  "No problem."

  As I walked up the stairs, I could feel his eyes on me. I went into the bathroom, closed the door and ran the water to disguise the fact that I was not tending to natural functions. "This should not be difficult," I told my reflection. "You used to do it all the time. He is already interested. Take it slow and easy, make up something to keep the two of you here." I combed through my hair with my fingers, pinched my cheeks to coax a little bit of color into my pale skin. Not that it really mattered; his kind always found me attractive. "The nature of the beast," I said, giving myself a wide smile, feeling the excited anticipation of feeding build, the slight tingle of gums as my fangs began to grow. "It's show time."

  "Bob?" I called out to him as I came down the stairs. "I don't think I want to leave here yet." I tried to put a small tinge of fear into my voice.

  "Why, what's wrong?"

  I avoided his eyes and shrugged. "If you must know, I'm a little nervous about going home. It would probably be better if I wait and sneak in while my husband is sleeping. He always goes to bed right at ten o'clock, no matter what." It was a blatant lie, but Bob would have no way of knowing that. I warmed to the part and expanded a bit. "He'll have put away enough beer by then to be totally unaware of anything. And in the morning, well"—I dropped my head as if ashamed—"he'll be so hungover, he will take any sort of explanation I give. Yes," I said as if just making up my mind that second, "I should probably stay here for a while."

  "He won't come looking for you?" Bob was falling very nicely into the role of protector. I almost laughed out loud; if anyone needed protection right now, he did. And if Mitch came for me, he would allow nothing to stand in his way.

  But I played along and hesitated as I looked at the clock on Elly's mantel. Not quite nine-thirty. "Probably not"

  "But he might?"

  "It is possible, I suppose."

  He nodded. "Then I'll stay as well. Just in case."

  "Thank you." I gave him a weak smile. "Why don't you build a fire and I'll find us something to drink?"

  He began to hum a song as he eagerly arranged some wood in the fireplace, and his thoughts were easy to guess. The babe magnet strikes again. I shook my head as I walked into the kitchen. Why was I playing this game? It was demeaning to all of us. And totally unnecessary. I could do anything I wanted with this man and make him forget it all one second later. He was mine for the taking, game or no game.

  "Bob, can you come in here for a minute?"

  "Sure thing." He moved into the doorway. "Need help with a bottle or something?"


  "No." I looked him straight in the eyes. "Come closer, please."

  He approached, curious, but with just a small touch of fear. "So, what's up?"

  "I did not bring you here for protection from my husband, who is neither a drunkard nor an abusive man."

  Still held by my stare, he took this in. "So why are we here?"

  "We are here because I want you. Because I need you. Because it has been way too long since I have fed."

  "Fed?"

  I smiled at him. It might have been an encouraging smile, even a reassuring smile, except for the fangs that were growing in anticipation.

  He stiffened and made an effort to pull away. But held by my gaze, he was helpless. I moved over to him and took him into my arms. "Yes, my darling. My sweet, sweet darling. And you will feed us well, won't you?"

  Bob shivered, trying to break my grasp, then relaxed as I continued to look into his eyes. "Yes," he whispered. "I will feed you. I will give you anything you want."

  "I know you will." I smiled one more time, fangs fully grown, fully visible. Then my mouth went to his neck and we were both carried away by the tide of his blood.

  I had almost forgotten the taste of fresh human blood; forgotten the sheer ecstasy feeding was. Time seemed suspended, thoughts forgotten; all that was important was my mouth and his blood, the pressure of his warm body up against mine, his moans, my contented sighs.

  How could I have gone so long without human blood? And what had I become in the interval? A hunter of plastic bags and animals? I almost choked in scorn, and the Cat rejoiced deep in my mind. "Yes," it purred, "this is what we've needed. This is what we have craved. Take it all."

  Not all, I thought, we must never take it all. But still I drew upon him, one glorious mouthful after another, a hand holding the back of his head, and the other pressed up against his heart, measuring the beats, waiting for them to slow. And when they slow, I told the Cat, reminding it and reminding me, when they slow, we must stop.

  And there it was: the jump of his heart and a faltering of the steady pulse. Stop. Now. We must stop now.