by Atha, DL
Purchased on a trip to Mexico with my mother, Mom and I had bickered with the thin Latino store-owner for at least a half hour over the price. I was pretty sure who had won out but each time I walked through this room, it always caught my attention and never failed to take me back to happier times before my dad had died and my husband had left.
How ironic that I now stood beneath the auspices of the outstretched wooden arms and the golden rays while in the grasp of a vampire who was convinced that both were his damnation. Wanting very much to look at them for assurance, I couldn’t as his eyes held mine, his lips arched up in a sneer; his face arrogant and beautiful.
Every night I was with him, my desire for him grew despite the fact that my hatred for him grew as well. There was no logic in this at all since his every act was evil and cold-hearted. Yet, I still wanted him.
His gaze never leaving my face, he reached up, knocked the cross from the wall, and grasped the iron sun. The cross ricocheted to the floor, arcing off the crown molding of the nearby kitchen doorway.
With one hand, he bent the iron sculpture in half with complete ease before snapping it in his grasp. His voice whispered low yet silkily in my ear, “If your plan is to bring me to the sun, you are more foolish than I realized.” He dropped the twisted sculpture onto the floor at my feet.
If he was making a statement, the theatrics were good, I thought, as I stared down at the bronze remains of the sun. “Oh, not to worry. I’ll get another one. They’re as common as tequila in Mexico,” I noted laughingly into his face. “But if the sun represents purity, were you sending a message to God?”
Sometimes my mouth gets me in trouble. This was one of those times, I realized, just as his lips were at my throat, his hands crushing my throat. What a temper.
Feeling the nick of his fangs as they brushed my skin, my desire for him at that moment grew exponentially and I could smell my own pheromones as they permeated my skin. And as suddenly as the situation had turned dangerous, it now turned into desire.
Turning my head to give him better access to my veins, I could feel him tracing a path with his mouth up my carotid, but I had more questions so I couldn’t give into this. “So where do you spend your days?” I asked as innocently as I could.
Laughter rumbled low in his chest. “Remember I said that there was one question that I would not answer. Well, that is the one. Do you actually think I would tell you where I spend my days so you could come and stake me in my death sleep? But it was a nice try. My instincts about you are correct. You are going to be ruthless.” He continued to laugh to himself, which brought me to my next question.
“So I guess you breathe?” He had to push air across his vocal cords to laugh, but that didn’t mean he actually needed to breathe.
“I breathe only when I want to taste the air or take in a scent more strongly, but I do not need the oxygen. Occasionally strong emotions reminiscent of our human existence will cause us to breathe out of habit.”
His mouth continued his assault on my neck and I wanted to give in to it, but I had to hang on to my senses. There were so many questions and not enough answers.
“So, not answering specifically, of course, but where would you typically spend your days? And you didn’t answer my question about how you would turn me and how much blood you need?” My breath was coming in short bursts because I still needed to breathe and he was taking my breath away every time he landed a cool kiss on my neck.
“We can go anywhere so long as there is no sunlight. Old crypts are a favorite. That is why vampires love Louisiana, by the way. Great hunting grounds among the alcoholics and safe sleeping places. But old houses and basements will do. If they are not light tight, they are still an excellent place to dig into the ground, which is an acceptable, but messy place to hide. Any sunlight will weaken you, not necessarily destroy you but it can weaken you to the point you can easily be overcome by humans. As for your next question, turning you will require you to drink my blood, which will be erotic, I think, and we require the entire blood supply of a human every six or seven days. I usually drink every day, which means I do not have to drain my source if I choose not to.”
Now with my questions answered, I felt his fangs pierce my neck. Inhaling deeply, the scent of his blood was nearly overwhelming at this proximity. It struck a nerve deep within me and I wanted him, or at least his blood in such an overpowering way that almost by instinct, I bit him. I didn’t draw blood, but I wanted to as its scent was intoxicating in its sweetness.
He jerked back ever so slightly and took an even slighter intake of breath before he caught himself. Surprise flashed across his face followed by what looked like suspicion and anger. He hesitated for what seemed like an eternity, but I kept my expression as innocent as possible and finally his suspicion seemed to pass.
As he leaned back into me and let his head drop back slightly, I continued to nip lightly at his neck. His breath came quicker as I continued to bite harder until I was leaving marks on his skin. I tried not to think about what I was reminding him of with my bite.
Eventually, his breathing slowed and whatever anger or hesitation he had experienced when I first bit him, he seemed to be over it now and for once, taking his cue from me, I felt his fangs pierce my skin.
I formed my next question while he drank, “If you turn me, I assume we will have to leave here?” Knowing what his answer would be didn’t keep me from asking it.
Withdrawing his fangs, he continued to muzzle my neck while he answered, “Of course, Annalice. Secrecy is the one hard and fast rule of vampirism. Even without a teacher, I recognized the need to remain unknown. We live in secrecy not only to protect ourselves from extinction, but also to protect ourselves from becoming too plentiful. In my painfully long existence, I have never met even one human who did not want to live forever. Not realizing of course that immortality among the mortals is its own form of hell, they crave it without fully understanding it. We would be hostage to the desires of humans. It would be us who needed protecting from their cravings.”
He was right. How many patients had I diagnosed over the years with terminal illnesses? How many patients had I pronounced? And not one of them had wanted to die. Not a single one had let go of life without a fight. Struggling for just one more breath, one more hour, one more day. Age, race, gender, even religion; none of it changed the fact that nobody wanted to die. Oh sure, some people are ready. But no one is eager. At least not from where I had been standing. And I wasn’t any different.
“We have very little time left tonight, Annalice. Surely you tire of these questions. A more entertaining activity awaits us, surely you agree?” The nerve endings were starting to implode under his hands as he caressed my back and shoulders. In a quick movement, my cotton pajama top was gone and his fangs bit into my left breast, setting off another entire plexus of nerves. Gasping as I arched off of the wall and into his mouth, I knitted my fingers deeply into the thick wave of his hair.
I had more questions, but it was difficult to put words into full sentences and I only managed to produce two and three-word phrases. “Stakes…how.” I spoke the words into his hair as I leaned down, trying to get closer to him as he continued to suck small amounts of blood from my breast.
“Unknown,” was his one-word response when he lifted his head for the briefest of seconds to answer.
His fangs, completely extended, showed pearly white against the curve of his full red lips, which were accentuated more by his fair skin. His scent burned in my nostrils and I was unable to keep myself from inhaling deeply. I wanted to fill myself with it, be covered with it, and become part of it. It was so heavy, I was sure I could lick it off his skin.
With dilated pupils as dark as a moonless cloudy night, his gaze bore into mine and my heart did a little flip flop. Not from love, but from such powerful lust that I felt limp in its grasp. Tons of questions remained, but I couldn’t convince myself to care.
I wanted to consume him. My thirst for him was un
quenchable and I literally wanted to take him, all of him, internally. The urge to do that was mind-controlling. With my lack of control raging through my body, I pulled his face to mine and plunged my tongue into his mouth.
Tasting my own blood didn’t stop me and I let myself melt into his body, wrapping my legs around his waist. Turning, he walked slowly to the bedroom and within seconds, our now bare skin was pressed tightly against each other as we fell onto the bed.
If I had been able to tear my lips from his, I would have been screaming with pain and pleasure as the friction between our bodies wreaked havoc on my nervous system. But I couldn’t pull my face from his except to bite him. My hands grasped him, my nails tore at him, my thighs clenched him as I settled onto his full length. And my last greedy conscious thought was of trying to get even closer to him as his orgasm exploded within me.
thirteen
Our evening together left me dazed as usual. I think whatever hormones he released into my bloodstream, which likely strengthened as he became more excited, are simply too strong for the human mind. Honestly, when sex is that good, who cares if you lose consciousness or not.
I’m not sure what woke me up. I had expected to sleep till around noon like every other night when he left. But I had woken up at 5.30 a.m. My period of sleep was shorter than usual. His pheromones obviously didn’t have the same effect on my neurological system as earlier in the week.
The sun wasn’t even up yet. It wouldn’t be long though and getting up out of bed, I padded into the sunroom to watch it come up over the horizon of the mountains in the distance. Not sure of exactly what had woken me up, I didn’t want to waste my last opportunity to see the sun rise over the glorious vista to the southeast of my house.
Whatever happened tonight, I would never see the beauty of the sun again. Never warm my skin in its rays again. One more night until I would either live the life of the undead or join the ranks of the truly dead. Knowing my eyes would sear in its brightness, I was determined to see it one last time.
I still hadn’t called Ellie. Maybe that was for the best. I wasn’t sure I could keep the sadness or the finality out of my voice. My mom would recognize that something was terribly wrong immediately. We had always been close and my death would kill her. Ellie would probably be the only thing to keep her going. That was good, at least they would have each other.
Plopping down into the oversized sofa facing the floor to ceiling walls of glass, I watched the blue-gray mountains expectantly for the first rays of the morning light. Since the room faced into the rising sun, there was no place to hide from the brightness as it illuminated every nook of the room. Sometimes the sunlight was the only thing that could wake up an overtired doc like myself after a week-long stretch of night shifts.
Glancing up at the clock, I knew the sun would soon rise up to fill the valley that ran between the two shortest peaks. The sky was lightening and taking on the pink and purple hues that would eventually give way to the cool blue skies of a late winter morning.
While I waited for the first rays of the sun, my mind returned to the question of what had woken me up. Hovering on the edge of consciousness, some as yet unrecognized idea or question burned at the back of my mind.
As I pondered this mystery, the first golden rays poured through the crevice between two dark blue mountains and, as it had at the beginning of every sunny day since being added on to the house, illuminated the entire sunroom from floor to ceiling. The sun rays, catching the edges of the glass, were cast every direction and there was no place to hide from its brilliance. And although that had been the point of the room’s design, I was unprepared for its new effect on me.
As the rays spread across my bare skin, the sensation of a raging fire burned out any previous joy the sun had ever brought to me. As my skin seared in the sunlight, explosions of light burst behind my eyes, despite both being squeezed tightly shut leaving my eyelids to suffer the fire of the sun.
The effect was not unlike staring into the sparklers I had lit for Ellie and myself last Fourth of July. We had danced and twirled around in the dark, sticky July night, little sparks flying from the sparklers to land on our hands and arms, warm but no longer hot enough to burn us. For a few moments, my eyes had only been able to make out silvery streaks of light.
So much more brilliant, the sun had filled my entire visual field with shimmering flashes of light, leaving my head aching and my stomach rolling. Vomiting seemed inevitable.
Certain I would burn to death in the sun’s brightness, I buried my head in my hands and struggled to walk into the part of my house that faced north and wasn’t illuminated by the sun. Now understanding firsthand what Asa meant, I never wanted to see the sun again.
It was a difficult passage marked by torchlight shafts of sunlight streaming through the numerous windows so common in old houses. Unable to walk any further, I fell to my knees, crawling the rest of the way to my bedroom.
Suddenly, the nausea became overwhelming and lurching to my feet, I sprinted for the bathroom just in time to heave into the toilet. I retched for at least a half hour until there was nothing more than just yellow foam, and then dry heaved for at least another thirty minutes until it finally subsided and nothing remained of my last meal. I was only able to produce clear spit.
Wiping my mouth with the sleeve of my t-shirt, I collapsed back against the hard wall of the bathroom, not even bothering to get very far from the commode. The tile floor was cool against my legs and although leaning against the wall wasn’t very comfortable, I didn’t have the strength at that point to go any farther. I simply sat and tried to catch my breath. My head was spinning too fast to think very clearly and I wished I was still in bed asleep.
Pulling my legs in and wrapping my arms around them, I rested my forehead on my knees. Feeling drained and exhausted from my exposure to the sun, it took a lot of energy just to pull oxygen in and out of my lungs.
With my overactive hearing, I could now hear fluid accumulating in the base of my lungs, the human part of me was still actively dying. The sun had worn me out considerably and I was lucky the height of my oversensitivity to the sun had not occurred when I was outside and unable to make it back indoors. I’d be willing to bet that not all vampire converts had been so lucky.
Sitting still to conserve my energy, I was content to do nothing for a while and I tried to not even think, but something was tugging at the back of my mind. Knowing it was important, I struggled to drag it out of the recesses of my memory. Despite my efforts, complete exhaustion set in and I must have fallen asleep for a little while.
I’m not sure what woke me up again but I think it may have been the sunlight. Crystals of silver and white were once again exploding behind my closed eyes when I came back to awareness. The rising sun had reached the level of the skylight built into the bathroom ceiling. Lucky for me, it was only a small window but knowing that I couldn’t stay here, I crawled out of the bathroom with my eyes still closed. My skin tingled and burned as I passed through the rectangular panel of light that was thrown across the floor by the skylight.
Stopping when I reached the shadows again, I lay on the carpeted floor of the hallway, trying to decide what to do next. All I could think of was darkness, in fact, I craved it. So getting back up on my hands and knees, I crawled, too afraid to stand up where the light from the windows could touch me, towards the safest room I could think of: the walk-in closet.
Once in the dark coolness of the closet, I felt immediately better. Collapsing on the carpet, I lay there doing nothing but trying not to puke again. That would be very unpleasant in the close quarters of the closet. I kept my eyes closed and my head resting on the cool, thick carpet of the floor. There were no windows and it was only about eight square feet. Resting there on the floor, I waited for the remaining nausea to pass. It must have taken about forty five minutes for my head to quit spinning and my stomach to quit twisting on itself.
While I lay there, my memory finally jogged and it occurr
ed to me for the first time that I could have been looking for Asa’s hiding place these last few days. I felt so stupid, but then again, he could be hiding anywhere and any number of miles away. Now I had the eyesight and speed to do it, but I was as locked away from the sun as he was.
Slowly sitting up, I opened my eyes for the first time since making my way into the closet. When the lights were off, this room was as dark as the grave even in the middle of the day, but I realized that I could make out the shadows even in the darkness
In the corner to my right, I could see the sharp edges of the safe, and to my left, I could see the uneven line of the hems of my clothes hanging up. It was still black in the room, but I could roughly make out the shape of every major object sitting against the walls.
Able to see in the dark and unable to exist in the sun, I realized the virus had reached critical mass. I was now more vampire than human. My theories were proving correct. It was the first bite that introduced the virus, but if the victim was healthy, their immune system would be able to successfully fight the virus and prevent conversion.
That probably explained the old legend that after the third bite, the victim would turn into a vampire. Not that the third bite was a magic number, it was only a rough estimate. It was most likely dependent on many things including the number of bites, viral concentration in each vampire’s saliva, and the timing.
Numerous bites close together was probably much worse than bites spaced farther apart. In my case, I had tried to be exposed as much and as often as possible. The more cells that were infected, the quicker it would spread. I was turning even quicker now than I had been before. Last night pushed me over the edge, I had finally reached the exponential phase of viral transmission. Asa didn’t recognize what was happening to me, but why not?
