by R. A. Nelson
“I wouldn’t forget. Not after last time,” he said.
It was Donne’s turn. She produced something I didn’t recognize that was small and thin and metallic, like a silver pencil. Also a square of folded white cloth and a small brown bottle with a rubber stopper and no label. She splashed a little of the liquid from the bottle onto the cloth and clenched it in her small fist. It gave off a pungent—yet somehow sweet—aroma.
“Hey, what are you—”
I was never able to finish. Both of the vampires sprang at the newspaper man.
* * *
I say sprang, but they moved so gracefully, so soundlessly, it was more like watching swans skimming a lake than tigers pouncing. I could only call their movements beautiful, not deadly or monstrous or even threatening. It didn’t feel like an attack; it felt like a dance.
Sagan, you would not believe this, I thought.
I followed along. Anton and Donne flung their bodies out in opposite directions, springing and bounding, sailing ten feet or more in the air. Then they touched lightly down on one foot and sprang again, as if closing the last corner of a triangle.
The old newspaper guy never knew what hit him. He didn’t hear their approach and was leaning over jerking out a bunch of leftover papers when the vampires landed behind him. Anton took him first, pulling the man’s arms down and pinning them to his sides. I rushed toward them, bracing myself mentally for Donne’s attack, falling on the man’s throat with her teeth, tearing him apart.
It didn’t happen that way. Instead Donne reached around the man’s shoulders while Anton continued to hold him and placed the wet folded cloth over his face, covering his nose and mouth.
I couldn’t see the newspaper guy’s face, but I could imagine his eyes going wide with terror for a moment. I don’t believe he ever saw either of the vampires. His body jerked silently two or three times, and when Anton turned him around, the man’s body went slack and his eyes were already closed. The vampires gently lowered him to the pavement.
Anton cradled the newspaper man’s head in his lap as Donne pulled the guy’s right arm out of his jacket sleeve, then stretched the collar of his T-shirt over to reveal a pale, smooth neck and shoulder. Here it comes, I thought, standing over them, dumbstruck.
Now Donne took the little pencil-like object she had been holding in her left hand and drew a two-inch line across the top of the man’s shoulder. Only it wasn’t a pencil or a pen. It was some kind of knife—an X-acto.
The man didn’t move or even groan as the warm blood welled up like red beads along the thin incision she had made. I actually saw Anton licking his lips. Donne let him go first. He lowered his head to the man’s shoulder and began to drink in a way that looked like a passionate kiss.
I was surprised that he only drank for maybe twenty seconds. Then it was Donne’s turn, and she drank in the same way, like a kiss. A way of feeding that was so delicate, so gentle, so completely the opposite of the brutal, violent way the monster Wirtz had torn at my leg. I was speechless. Donne saw me watching.
“This one is not for you, Fresh,” she said.
She also spent less than a minute drinking. Her eyes rolled back in her head and then she shut them. It was over almost as soon as it was beginning. She lifted her head away from the cut, and there wasn’t even a trace of blood on her mouth. She could have been giving the guy a hickey for all I could tell.
It was clear they were finished now. But instead of leaving the man and fleeing, Donne blotted the wound with a cloth and then Anton applied a little squirt of antiseptic from the white tube, which he rubbed in gently with his finger until the bleeding stopped. Anton replaced the man’s jacket and they carefully carried him over to the sidewalk and set him down easily with his arm crooked beneath his head.
I felt as if I had landed on an alien world … that I was seeing something that went on all over the earth with all of us humans completely unaware.
“Now what?” I said.
“We wait,” Donne said. “And watch.”
She and Anton pulled me around beside a small building. We watched the man as he lay motionless on the concrete. “What did you use to knock him out?” I whispered.
“Ether,” Donne said. “You can use chloroform too, but neither of them are easy to get unless you are close to a university.”
“But how do you know how much to give him?” I said.
“You do it a few hundred times, you’ll know,” Donne said, again acting like I was a little dense.
“So … what are we waiting for now?”
“To make sure he’s okay,” Donne said.
“You’re messing with me,” I said. “You just drank the guy’s blood … and now you’re going to hang around and see if he’s okay?”
“Yeah,” Donne said. “Sometimes there can be … a reaction. Also, he is defenseless.”
“What kind of creatures of darkness are you?” I said, almost wanting to smile.
“We’re human beings,” Donne said grimly. “Doing the best we can.”
The newspaper guy groaned and sat up. We slipped away into the shadows.
“Okay … now what?”
“Now we do it all over again.”
The next victim was a huge woman waddling out to the mostly empty parking lot at Walmart. We left her behind the wheel of her pickup and waited until she came to, coughing and looking dazed. “She must work in the bakery,” Anton said, smacking his lips. “She tastes of flour.” The third was a guy sitting alone playing on the Internet in a little guard shack out beside an industrial plant. They didn’t even have to move him from his seat.
In each case Donne said the same thing: “This one is not for you.” Whew, I thought. I’m not complaining.
I felt guilty even though Anton and Donne couldn’t have been more kind … which I know is a weird word to use in conjunction with two vampires slicing someone open with an X-Acto. But I couldn’t help feeling that they sincerely cared about their victims and did everything they could to minimize the damage, psychological or otherwise.
“But … don’t they wonder who knocked them out? How they got cut?” I said.
“I’m sure they do,” Anton said. “Unless they’re drunk or otherwise incapacitated.”
“But wouldn’t they … report it to somebody the next day?”
“And what would you say to the police?” Donne said. “ ‘I woke up with this paper cut on my shoulder.’ ” She laughed derisively.
I thought of the vampire bats feasting on the pig.
“What about … animals?”
“Doesn’t work,” Anton said. “Too far removed on the family tree, okay?”
“Okay … hospitals? Blood banks?” I said. “Couldn’t you … couldn’t we … eat there?”
“Believe me, we’ve heard all the jokes,” Anton said. “Hello, sir! So this is a blood bank? I vant to make a withdrawal, please.”
“The blood is no good,” Donne said, frowning at Anton. “Oh, it’s all right to use on humans. But it’s not really … alive … anymore. We would quickly starve if we tried to live on it.”
“So … a vampire can starve? To death?”
“Well, technically, we don’t know what would happen if you carried it all the way to the end. And I sure don’t want to find out.”
“You said Lena was in the middle of a fast.…”
“That’s right,” Anton said. “She’s incredible. Her willpower. Strength. I couldn’t stand it, not that long. She can go for weeks.”
“It’s part of being Sonnen,” Donne said. “We didn’t ask for this. Fasting is one way of keeping our dignity. Keeping our way of life separate from that of the blood-gorgers.”
“The Verloren,” I said.
“Yeah.”
The last guy we picked was a lot younger than the others and several miles away. His car was parked at a convenience store, and we waited until he had gotten his cheese curls and soda, then followed him as he drove back to his apartment complex.
> It was thrilling keeping up with the car, running full tilt through yards, dodging around obstacles, hopping over fire hydrants and dogs, then flinging ourselves into the shadows whenever he turned or otherwise might see us. It more than satisfied my need for speed and the frenzied animal joy of the chase I had been missing since getting kicked off the soccer team. It was wrong that we were stalking the poor guy, but it didn’t feel wrong.… It felt exhilarating. Like fulfilling every adventurous kid’s nighttime dream of being able to chase a car through darkened streets.
Anton and Donne took the guy just as he turned the key in his apartment door. We caught him as he slumped into the doorway and hustled his inert body to the couch. They didn’t seem worried, but I took a second to glance around just to make sure nobody else was home.
The sink was full of about a week’s worth of dishes, and the table and parts of the floor were covered with wadded-up clothes. There were empty beer cans everywhere. Natty Light and Natty Ice. The apartment had a sour guy smell.
Anton and Donne were content to just leave the door open, but it felt weird, so I closed it behind us.
“Hurry up,” I said.
It didn’t take that long. They had the guy propped up on the couch, ready to go, when …
Donne lifted her head from the young guy’s shoulder and, wiping her mouth with her forearm, looked at me.
“Your turn.”
I swore. “You’re not serious.”
“It’s a little strange the first time,” Anton said. “But you have to start somewhere, okay? We saved the best for last. The best for you. There’s no reason to be nervous. As a Fresh you shouldn’t be taking in so much on your first time.… It’s best not to … gorge yourself early on. Look how easy we have made it for you. It’s as private as you’re ever going to get it. You will never make an easier … kill.”
“What’s wrong, Emma?” Donne said, eyeballing me suspiciously. “You have to be just about crazy hungry by now. Watching us feed.”
Moment of truth time. I knew I wasn’t ready to tell them about my scrambled status as a vampire. I needed to save that until I knew for sure it was okay. But if I refused to drink or just ran away, that would be even worse—that’s all I needed, three more vampires for enemies. I wasn’t comfortable with any of my options.
There was another. I could drink.
The mere thought of it horrified and disgusted me. Drink his blood? All warm and wet and oozy? My lips sucking at the skin of a strange guy’s shoulder?
I had to decide something quickly or Donne would likely turn on me.
“Okay,” I said. “Just give me a second.” I knelt while Anton stretched the guy’s shirt away from the pearling wound. Think. You could just pretend.…
“Just to let you know, I’m going to be watching you closely, Unschuldig.” Donne said the German word almost sarcastically, as if she didn’t believe it. “If you are Verloren, I’ll know it.”
“If I’m Verloren, I would have already broken your skinny neck,” I said, getting a little sick of her attitude.
“We’ll see.”
“Why the shoulder?” I said. “Some spiritual Sonnen reason?”
“Who wants a paper cut on their neck?” Donne said.
Anton was laughing.
“Oh, shut up,” Donne said, kicking at him halfheartedly. She looked at me. “Now.”
I leaned forward.… I could already smell the scent of the young guy’s skin.… It wasn’t entirely unpleasant.… In spite of the condition his apartment was in, he seemed clean.
“What about the … infection?” I said. “Won’t he become a vampire? I thought you had to kill them to keep them from turning.…”
Donne looked like she wanted to spit. “That’s for those animals. The Verloren. They have no control over their hunger. They drink so much, the greedy pigs … they leave themselves no choice but to kill. Or churn out more stupid Freshbloods like you. I told you, Sonnen are dignified. Civilized. We never take more than a little from each … person. Never nearly enough to turn them. Don’t worry, if you start to gorge yourself, we won’t let you go too far. Quit stalling.”
My mouth was very close now. Get it over with, Emma
I put my lips to the cut.
I knew what blood tasted like, of course. You can’t play sports without having your lip shredded. I’d heard it described as “salty” or “coppery” or even “metallic.” To me it was none of those. I didn’t know what to call the taste. I just knew it tasted “foreign”—definitely not something that was supposed to be running down my throat.
I kept my tongue curled deep in my mouth. Okay, so far I was keeping my supper down and managing not to show how awful this was. Just pretend, I thought, starting to count the seconds. That’s all.
“I’m watching,” Donne warned. “I’ll be able to tell if you’re swallowing or not. So you better get to it.”
Oh my God. She means it.
Almost immediately the blood began to flow, as if the motion of my throat had created a vacuum. Warm, vile stickiness began to creep onto my tongue. Slowly my mouth started to fill with the stuff. Second moment of truth. Either I was going to have to spit it out all over Donne’s feet, or …
I pinched up my face and swallowed. And kept swallowing. Now I suddenly tasted something familiar … but it wasn’t a taste so much as a smell masquerading as one.
Beer! The guy has been drinking beer. I could taste it in his blood.
“Ulp!” I said, hiccuping sickeningly, feeling my whole insides convulse. I pulled my mouth away just in time.… Another few seconds and I would have vomited.
I hacked and sputtered while Anton laughed hysterically. I wanted to bust him in the face and came close to doing it until Donne grabbed my fist in her small hands, looking at me apologetically. And showing a rare smile.
“I’m sorry, Emma, but we had to know. I’m satisfied. You are so Fresh! There’s no hiding it. I hope you got enough. He won’t be under much longer. We should go.”
I could still taste the greasy beer-smelling blood sliding down my throat into my stomach. My stomach! I immediately thought of my visit to Wirtz’s mind, the dying woman’s blood gushing down my gullet. Ulp. A wave of nausea hit me again, and I pushed myself away from the boy on the couch. I came to a standing position and took several long breaths through my nose until I felt a little better.
“Let’s get out of here,” I grumbled, and headed to the door while they bundled away my breakfast.
I felt better outside in the night, but the lingering effects of my “feeding” kept me wobbly. Anton got a kick out of watching my cheeks bulge every time I fought to keep from puking. They helped me make my way unsteadily back up the mountain.
I wondered what time it was. Then I remembered Sagan’s gift and pulled out my pocket watch: 3:49 a.m. Not a lot of night left. Which got me to wondering where the Sonnen went during the day.
“That was so good,” Anton said, and I wasn’t sure if he was talking about feeding or the joy of setting me up.
“You knew that guy had been drinking, didn’t you?” I said, trying to pass off my sickness as a distaste for beer.
“Oh! You should have seen what they did to me!” Anton said. “No beer, ha … whiskey! A drunk in an alley. Be thankful we looked around until we found someone … better.”
He grinned so broadly and looked so silly and innocent with his black hair falling across his eyes that it kept me from beating him senseless.
“I thought you said Lena helped you through your first Blood Hunt?” I said, wiping my lips for the dozenth time.
“I’m sorry. I lied, okay?” Anton said. “The one who took me … He was a real Arschloch.”
“Arschloch?”
“You don’t want to know,” Donne said.
“Think Chaucer,” Anton said, laughing. “The ‘nether eye.’ ”
“Whatever. So both of you were just jerking me around,” I said. “All that ‘this one is not for you’ crap.”
Donne didn’t say anything, just frowned.
“Ho! Just wait till you get on her bad side,” Anton said, winking. “Don’t take it too hard, huh?”
The higher we climbed, the better I felt. Soon we were racing along again, bounding through the trees effortlessly. I’ve got a guy’s blood in my stomach, I thought, over and over. I drank his blood. The strangeness of the thought was impossible to shake from my head.
“Were you … successful?” Lena said when we got back to the Stone House Hotel.
She had spread out the blanket they had used to capture me and was lying on her back with her eyes closed. For the first time I noticed her feet: they were small and so pale, if I hadn’t had vampire eyes, it would have been difficult to tell she had toenails. Her shoes were leaning against the wall: small black lace-ups with rubber soles, like something you might wear on a boat.
“You should have seen her face!” Anton said. He smiled at me. “Green as grass, isn’t she, Donne?”
Donne didn’t reply, just stepped over and fell on the blanket next to Lena. “Why do I always get so sleepy after feeding?” she said, yawning.
Speaking of green, Lena opened her startling eyes and sat up. “Because it is nearly time for sleep. The sun will be rising soon.”
“Where do you … live?” I said, very curious, but wondering if I was being impolite. “During the daylight, I mean.”
Lena glanced at Donne. “What do you think?”
“I think … she’s fine, Lena,” Donne said. “You have never seen a more delicate drinker. She could teach us a thing or two about abstaining.”
“It was the beer,” I said, quick to remind them of my excuse. “I’ll do better next time.”
“The hunger is something we cannot control,” Lena said. “But … no matter how many years you do it, the drinking is still an unnatural act. For we are still humans.”
“So where do you sleep?”
They got to their feet, and I helped the three of them with the blanket. In some ways, it was the oddest experience of the night: three vampires and one half-vampire girl standing in the burned-out ruins of an old hotel and doing the most domesticated of acts: folding a blanket. It struck me as strangely comforting—how four people from completely different time periods each handled the blanket exactly the same way, folding it in halves and walking toward each other until we met. Some things never change, I guess.
