The Tomb of Blood

by Britney Jackson

  Alana and Rose were no longer kneeling in Kara’s room at the Tomb of Blood. Now, they were kneeling in the corner of a dark barn. Rose watched as the black walls transformed into dilapidated wooden walls with cracks between the wood, bitter, icy wind rushing in between the cracks, leaving Rose shivering violently at the bitter cold. The marble floor transformed into dirt and straw that felt hard and prickly beneath Rose’s body. The wind howled outside the barn.

  “This is where they kept me,” Alana commented. “Cozy, isn’t it?”

  Rose wrapped her arms around herself, trying to stop the convulsive shivering long enough to form words. “How are you doing this?!” she cried.

  Alana swept Rose’s messy, auburn hair out of her face. Her touch felt warm and soothing in the brutal cold weather. “Didn’t anyone tell you, love?” she sighed, offering Rose a sympathetic smile. “I’m good at creating illusions.”

  Rose shook her head in denial. “No. My will is too strong to control.”

  “When you’re awake, yes,” Alana agreed, “but not when you’re asleep.”

  Rose frowned. “What do you mean by that? I’m not…I’m not asleep.”

  Alana leaned forward, her dark blue eyes sparkling with amusement, and whispered against Rose’s lips, “Are you sure about that?” Then, she kissed Rose.

  When Rose pulled away from the unexpected kiss, she found that they were no longer kneeling in the barn. Now, they were lying in a large, four-poster bed, beneath layers of white blankets and quilts. Rose glanced down between them, her eyes widening as she realized that Alana was no longer wearing clothes.

  Rose scrambled out of bed as quickly as possible. “What the heck?”

  Alana’s lips curved into a seductive smile. “I thought you might like a little warmth after that last illusion. You were shivering so intensely,” she cooed.

  Rose’s mind couldn’t keep up with the constantly changing illusions, and she staggered, feeling suddenly disoriented. She reached out to grasp one of the bed’s columns to steady herself, but it disappeared right before her eyes, the bedroom dissolving and rearranging, transforming into a home Rose recognized.

  Unable to grasp the column for support, Rose fell, collapsing on the dirty, peeling tile floor of the home she’d grown up in, the place where she’d endured horrors that she couldn’t even bring herself to talk about…to anyone.

  “Oops,” Alana said as Rose fell. “I guess I should have warned you.”

  Rose pulled herself up onto her knees. “Not here. Please. Not here.”

  “You saw where I suffered. I thought it was only fair that I saw where you suffered,” Alana said, glancing around at the peeling wallpaper and the dingy mattress in the corner of the room. “But if you can’t handle it, we can leave.”

  Rose nodded. “Please. Anywhere else. Just not here,” she begged.

  Alana shrugged her bare, delicate shoulders, and then, the room disappeared, the grays and tans swirling into nothingness, as blacks and blues took their place. Rose felt a warm breeze rush over her skin as an ocean formed in front of her. The floor beneath her knees transformed into rough sand that left her skin raw. The dingy walls transformed into a vast, endless, navy blue sky.

  Rose leaned back, breathing in deeply, as the warm, salt-scented breeze rushed around her, blowing her long, messy hair out of her face. It didn’t matter that it was an illusion, as long as it wasn’t that illusion. Anything but that.

  “This is nice, isn’t it?” Alana sighed. “Is this where you want to die?”

  Rose glanced up at Alana. “Die?” she repeated, her pulse skyrocketing.

  “Of course, darling,” Alana said with a smile. “You’re dying right now.”

  Rose climbed to her feet, watching as Alana’s lavender dress—now clean of blood—danced around her figure in the wind. “You’re draining me?”

  Alana’s pale blonde hair swayed around her face, dancing in the wind. “No. I’ve already drained you,” she corrected. “That’s why you’re unconscious.”

  Rose’s eyes widened. “Already? As in…earlier tonight?” she sputtered.

  Alana’s lips parted in surprise. “Oh, no, no, no,” she murmured. She stepped forward and slid her hands over Rose’s arms, trying to soothe her. “I’m sorry, sweetie. I should have clarified. It’s been a while, but not quite that long.”

  Rose sighed in relief, “Then, I did save Kallias and Kara? They’re okay?”

  “Yes, yes, of course,” Alana said quickly. She laughed. “You thought I’d keep you trapped in illusions for that long? That would put me in danger. Psychic abilities require concentration, remember? I am particularly good at using mine, though. A lot better than you. You need to learn to control your power. It’s really too bad that you didn’t agree to join me. I would have taught you everything I know.”

  “When did the illusions start?” Rose asked. “When did you bite me?”

  Alana played idly with a strand of Rose’s hair, twirling the shiny, red strand around her finger. “I was waiting for you when you came to the room. Even after you broke our blood bond by letting Kara feed from you, I could still sense you. I sensed when you were coming, and I met you at the door. I bit you.”

  Rose felt dizzy at the realization. “Everything after that was an illusion?”

  Alana nodded. “I have to admit: I was disappointed that you didn’t realize it. I had such a high opinion of your astuteness, but I guess I was wrong.”

  Rose exhaled shakily. “Why don’t I remember what happened?”

  “Because I didn’t want you to,” Alana said simply. She tilted her head back, sighing pleasantly as another warm breeze blew across the beach. “It’s such a nice illusion, don’t you think?” She scowled at Rose’s lack of enthusiasm. “Everyone’s mind is weakest when they’re unconscious, Rose. Even yours.”

  “I want to wake up,” Rose said. “Alana, please, let me wake up.”

  “I can’t do that,” Alana stated. “I already drained all of your blood.”

  “Then, give me yours,” Rose asked, stepping closer. She tilted her face to catch Alana’s gaze. “Think about it. It would reestablish the blood bond. You could use the bond against me. You could manipulate me. Just let me wake up.”

  Alana raised an eyebrow in surprise. “What happened to the perpetual martyr,” she sneered, “always willing to die to save the people she loves?”

  Rose scowled, resisting the urge to counter Alana’s insulting tone. “I’m still willing to die, if it would save them. But it won’t. I can’t save anyone like this.”

  Alana seemed to consider that. “Sorry, darling, but I can’t,” she sighed, shrugging her thin, pale shoulders. “You came to kill me. So, you’ll die, instead.”

  “I came to save you,” Rose confessed. “I never wanted to kill you.”

  Alana tilted her head to the side, lifting her eyebrows. “You said that…”

  “I lied. You know I lied,” Rose said breathlessly. “You saw it in my mind. That’s why you argued with me about it. You were right. I see too much of myself in you. And I feel so much sympathy for you. No matter how much I tried to tell myself that I was strong enough to kill you, the truth is…I’m not.”

  “You know you’re dying. You can feel the coldness of death seeping into the illusion. And you’re fighting,” Alana told her. “That’s the only reason you’re saying this. Without blood, your injuries can’t heal. That chest wound of yours is killing you. You’re only minutes away from death right now. I can’t save you without endangering myself. But I can make your death more pleasant.”

  “I don’t want to die,” Rose growled. “Not pleasantly. Not unpleasantly.”

  “Do you remember what sunsets look like? Ah, yes. I can see it in your head. You’re still young enough to remember. That’s beautiful, actually,” Alana mused. She turned, glancing at the sky, and it began to change, the star-speckled, navy blue sky transforming into a bright blue sky, streaked with orange, red, pink, and even some purple at t
he darkest edges. The blue waves brightened, sparkling beneath the sunlight—the sunlight that would kill them in real life. Alana smiled at the beautiful sunset. “Now, this… This is a nice place to die, don’t you think?”

  “No,” Rose said desperately. “I don’t want to die, Alana. I want to help my friends. I want to do what I can to save them. Which means…I can’t die.”

  Alana snapped her fingers. “Oh! I know what would make it better!”

  Rose sighed in frustration and opened her mouth to once again make an argument for her survival. But before she could speak, Kara appeared in front of her. The sunset cast a reddish-orange glow on Kara’s fair skin, and the blue streaks in Kara’s hair shined in the sunlight, contrasting starkly with the black hair around it. She looked strange in her all-black clothing, standing on a beach at sunset, as if someone plucked a piece of darkness from the night and stuck it in the day. But Kara was such a beautiful piece of night, and she looked so real.

  “Kara,” Rose whispered, stepping forward, her tennis shoes sinking into the sand. For a moment, she seemed to forget that this was an illusion, as if someone had misplaced that part of her memory. “You’re okay? You survived?”

  “Survived what?” Kara asked, her brows furrowing in confusion.

  Rose frowned. “I don’t remember. But there was something…”

  “Don’t think about it,” Kara said, stepping forward. She lifted her hands to touch Rose’s face, sliding her hands over Rose’s soft skin, sliding her fingers into Rose’s thick, red hair, and then, she crushed her lips against Rose’s lips.

  Rose moaned and wrapped her arms around Kara’s neck, her previous thoughts dying away at the soft warmth of Kara’s lips, the sweet taste of her mouth, the hardness of her muscles, the softness of her curves. She tilted her head back, staring up at the colorful sky as Kara’s lips traced their way down to Rose’s neck. Rose gasped as Kara teased her neck with her tongue and teeth.

  Kara’s hands slid beneath Rose’s jacket and T-shirt, her fingers tracing over Rose’s soft curves, then tugging the clothes over Rose’s head, leaving Rose in just jeans and a bra. Rose pulled back, glancing down at her own chest with a frown, suddenly plagued by a nagging feeling that she’d forgotten something.

  “Rose?” Kara asked, her voice soft and breathy. “What’s wrong?”

  “I…I was staked. It hadn’t fully healed yet,” Rose realized, frowning at her chest…that didn’t have a hole in it. Her memories seemed to rush back in, all of the sudden, and she looked up at Kara. “You’re not real. You’re an illusion.”

  Then, right before her eyes, Kara transformed into Alana.

  Rose stepped back, suddenly tired of the constantly changing illusions, suddenly tired of fighting. The cold darkness washed over her, just like the waves of the ocean were currently washing over the beach. “Stop doing this to me.”

  Alana sighed, her brows creasing with sympathy. “I’m trying to make it easier for you. I could try to create Kallias, if you want. Kara is easier to create because I know how she feels, how she kisses, how she touches. I know her.”

  “I don’t want to see fake versions of the people I care about, Alana,” Rose sighed, too exhausted to fully explain it. “I want to see them in real life.”

  “I can’t do that,” Alana said. “If I brought them to you, they’d kill me.”

  “Then, just let me die,” Rose sighed, shrugging. “I’m done fighting.”

  Alana frowned at Rose, but before she could respond, something drew her attention. Something from outside the illusion. The beach began to flicker around them, fading, dissolving, disappearing, until all that was left was Kara’s room at the Tomb of Blood. The illusion version of Alana disappeared as well.

  Rose’s eyes widened in shock as she saw her own body lying in the floor. The real version of herself, she realized. Her skin looked ashen from the lack of blood, and her clothes were soaked in her own blood. She frowned, glancing at the bed, where Alana sat in her blood-soaked lavender dress, Rose’s blood coating her lips and face, her dark blue gaze focused on Rose’s physical body.

  Alana looked up at the door. “Erik?” she breathed.

  Erik froze in the doorway, his green eyes shifting down toward the body lying on the floor. “Oh, no. Rose,” he gasped, kneeling beside her unconscious body. He pressed his fingers to her neck, feeling the weakness of her pulse.

  “She can still hear you,” Alana told him, “because I’m letting her.”

  Erik looked up at Alana. “I should have killed you last night.”

  “Why would you say that?” Alana asked, pain flashing in her eyes.

  “Why?” he laughed. “Alana, I nearly killed my friends today…because of you. You’ve done some terrible things, but that’s a new low. And now, hundreds of vampires are dying because of you. Even Kallias, with as skilled in combat as he is, can’t keep up because you commanded them all to swarm him, to keep him away from you. He could die because of you. Kara could die because of you. Rose is dying because of you. You’re killing everyone that I care about.”

  “If they all die, you’ll come back to me,” Alana said quietly.

  “No, I won’t,” Erik insisted. “I’m done with you, Alana.”

  “But…you’re the only one who ever understood,” Alana whispered.

  “I tried to understand, Alana,” Erik said, “but I can’t do it anymore.”

  Maybe it was their psychic connection, but for whatever reason, Rose felt her own heart break as she watched Alana bend forward and begin to sob. “I understand, Alana,” Rose heard herself say. “I don’t agree with your choices. But I understand your pain. As much as I possibly can. Please, if you can hear me, let me wake up. We can figure something out. I’ll find a way to help you.”

  Alana glanced up at her. She didn’t move her mouth, but her voice echoed in Rose’s head. “You want to fix me, not help me,” she said telepathically. “You won’t change me, and you can’t save me. Just like you can’t save yourself.”

  “Why did you let me come to you?” Erik asked Alana. “No one else could even leave the bar, but they let me walk right out and all the way here.”

  Alana shifted her gaze back toward him. “I knew you wouldn’t kill me.”

  “Because you think I can’t,” Erik realized. “Because I still love you.”

  “Yes,” Alana said. “I think you’re the only one who does. If Kara still loved me, she won’t now. I tried to kill her earlier. She’ll never take me back after that. You’re all I have left, Erik. You’re the only person who never gave up on me.”

  Rose felt as if her heart was shattering into billions of pieces. “I’m so sorry, Alana,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry for what happened to you.”

  Alana’s dark blue gaze shifted toward her, and her brows furrowed.

  Erik stepped over Rose and crossed the space between him and Alana. He held out his hand. Alana smiled and took his hand, allowing him to pull her to her feet. Erik kissed the back of her hand. “I want to show you something.”

  “Okay,” Alana said, a surprised smile forming at her lips. “What is it?”

  Erik cradled her face in his hands and projected happiness to her.

  Alana gasped, her dark blue eyes widening at the rare, overwhelming emotion. “What…what are you doing to me?” she stammered, smiling at him.

  “It’s happiness,” Erik said sadly. “Something you never felt enough of.”

  Alana frowned as she noticed the tears streaming down Erik’s face. She reached up and wiped the tears away with her fingers. “Why are you crying?”

  “I’m sorry, Alana. I don’t have a choice,” Erik sobbed. “I love you.”

  Alana gasped as he shoved one of his hands inside her chest.

  Rose clasped her hand over her mouth to stifle the cry. She watched in horror as Erik—weeping uncontrollably now—ripped Alana’s heart out of her chest. Then, as her connection to Alana died, darkness washed over her.

  —
/>   “Erik?” Kara breathed. She stood in the doorway, her eyes widening.

  Erik sat, curled up, in the floor with his back against the bed, his knees against his chest, and his face buried in his arms. Blood and tears soaked his skin. “Help Rose,” he mumbled tiredly, his voice muffled by his arms. “She’s dying.”

  Kara’s icy blue gaze shifted toward Rose, and she immediately ran to Rose’s side. She fell to her knees and quickly sank her fangs into her own wrist. With shaking fingers, she opened Rose’s mouth and pressed her bleeding wrist against it. She kept her gaze focused on Rose, unable to look at the lifeless body lying on the floor in front of Erik. “Come on, Rose. Feed from me,” she sighed, running her hand through Rose’s soft, red hair. She listened to Rose’s weak, slow pulse. “Come on, ást. Don’t give up. You’re stronger than that. I know you are.”

  Then, as if Kara’s soft, soothing voice had coaxed her out of her sleep, Rose made a soft moaning sound against Kara’s skin and then began to suck at the bite wound in her wrist, slowly at first…then faster…then ferociously. Kara tilted her head back, breathing out shakily, as the endorphins from blood sharing began to affect her, a warm, dizzying wave of desire rushing through her body.

  Rose’s eyes opened, suddenly, revealing their fiery, red glow, and she growled lowly, clutching Kara’s wrist to her face, feeding ravenously from her.

  Kara glanced down at her, a relieved smile curling at her lips. “Rose.”

  Rose just stared up at her for a moment, as she continued to feed, the red haze shifting and dancing within her eyes, and then, she let go of Kara’s wrist and wrapped her arms around Kara’s neck, pulling her down on top of her. Kara shifted to rest her body over Rose, pressing her hands against the floor to hold her weight. She tilted her head against Rose’s shoulder, giving Rose better access to her neck, and then, she gasped as Rose’s fangs tore into her carotid artery.

  Rose moaned as Kara’s sweet, warm blood filled her mouth, healing her, sating her, changing her. She could already feel the blood bond establishing between her and Kara, like a thread between their minds, between their souls. She could feel Kara’s emotions—relief, desire, grief, love—and she could feel the physical sensations Kara felt—the rush of arousal and pleasure caused by the endorphins. Rose arched her back slightly, pressing her body against Kara’s.