A Life In Blood (Chronicles of The Order Book 1)

by Unknown

  “I wish I could do something about that my love, I really do,” she said, her voice almost a whisper, and I think she had been trying to get used to using that phrase again. God knows how long it must have been since she last cared for anyone in a romantic sense. I reached out and brushed my hand through her hair, pushing some of it back behind her ear and away from her face. It was like handling fine black silk.

  “I’m okay hon, really. Sore, but okay.” Her eyes came up, but her head did not, but she still smiled at least. She pressed her head against my hand, taking hold of it and kissing it lightly before holding it by her knee.

  “I wanted us to speak,” she started eventually, “about our relationship. What we expect from each other, what we need, and where we want this to go.

  “I need to be honest when I say that a relationship with a vampire is hard. Our strength and our blood-hunger are the two greatest threats to those we care about, especially during sleep. And don’t even think about looking surprised - if we are serious then it is only natural that at some point in our relationship we share a bed together. I want us to get to that point, but I also want you to be aware that I could be as much a danger to you as a rogue vampire.”

  I sat silent for a moment, absorbing what she had said and being grateful for her honesty and openness. It changed nothing for me, of course. I would have stayed with her even at the risk of being flayed alive, because she had quickly become everything to me. I couldn’t begin to describe how I felt about her, how I still do.

  “I understand the dangers, Corvina,” I told her formally, feeling that this situation warranted a formal touch. “But I accept them, gladly and willingly, as the price of being yours.”

  A broad, beaming smile spread across her face, lighting up her eyes once more.

  “I’m glad, truly glad to hear that. So, rules. We need to know boundaries and they need to be respected. If am to be yours Deimos, I am yours exclusively, and you are mine - I have dated a mortal before who thought he could have a vampire and a mortal lover, at the same time.”

  “What happened to him?”

  “I removed his head, left his body in the woods and told people he’d been mauled by a bear. I don’t know if they believed me, but they certainly didn’t dare contradict me.”

  “Well, he clearly deserved it,” I told her. “I’d sooner castrate myself with a rusty chainsaw than have anyone else. Hell, I bear your mark now! That’s got to put off a lot of people. Surely that’s like some sort of vampire marriage proposal!” I said with a laugh.

  Corvi did not join in.

  “Oh god, it isn’t is it?”

  “No, it’s not,” she answered, with only half of her usual smile, “but it does bring me to the question - could you have a vampire as your bride? Knowing the risks, knowing that my rank will draw enemies to us both?”

  I didn’t respond immediately. I knew that this conversation, this whole talk, was based around her fears of the past being repeated. During my studies I had come across a particular ritual, designed for just this sort of occasion - a sworn declaration, of emotion, of loyalty, kind of a...pre-marriage commitment. It was this that I enacted now, to show her what she meant to me.

  I reached behind me and drew a knife from my belt. Not an ordinary knife, but a long, slender blade, inscribed with the vampiric runes for ‘Loyalty’ and ‘devotion.’ It had a contoured grip wrapped in cured leather dyed crimson, and a plain hilt that belied the blade’s significance. Corvi must have recognised it, as her hands covered her mouth as she gasped in shock and surprise.

  Holding my left arm out, I pressed the blade edge against my skin, just above the important arteries until I felt it bite, then drew the blade slowly downwards to form a gash that spanned nearly half my arm. The pain was intense, more focussed than anything I had felt lately, and worse for the speed at which I did it, but this was how it had to be.

  “Lady Corvina Delacore, I, Deimos Black, your faithful and beloved, do hereby offer you the gift of my life, to do with as you see fit. My body, my blood, my heart and my soul are at your command. I make this vow, willingly, that only with my death will I cease to be yours, and only in death will I cease to serve you.”

  I turned and extend both my arm and the knife to her, and she gingerly took hold of the weapon’s grip.

  “Do you know what you are asking?” She asked me breathlessly, tears welling in her eyes.

  “I do, My Lady, and so the choice is yours.”

  Traditionally, the options were acceptance of the supplicant or his death, and even now Corvi still had that right. But in more recent years - by vampire standards - the ritual had become more civilised, offering the option of his exile instead. I waited with baited breath, even now, as my blood dripped onto the floor, hoping she would accept me.

  She pressed the blade to her own arm and made a similar wound, allowing her blood and mine to join on the blade.

  “Deimos Black, I do hereby accept your offer. Your blood shall be as my blood, your life as my life. From this day forth your blood shall beat in my veins, and your death shall come only when I will it.”

  Upon finishing her words, she raised the blade to her lips and kissed the flat of it, leaving a smear of our joined blood on her lips. She returned the blade to me and I followed suit, then set the blade aside gently. I moved closer to her, her silver-grey eyes stunned, almost scared, until I leaned close to her for the kiss that sealed the rite. I steeled myself for what was about to come, although having only read about it I had no idea exactly how severe this experience would be.

  In the moment before our lips met, we both extended the tip of our tongues, so as to taste the mixed blood first. She must have known what was about to happen, because she placed her hand on the back of my head, keeping me locked in the kiss. Not forcefully, but as gently as if she was picking me up again. She knew what this meant to me, knew I wanted to see it completed properly, so she held me as I held her.

  I convulsed as if punched in the gut repeatedly. A hundred thousand images burned through my mind at once, memories from eleven lifetimes, Corvi’s memories, over a thousand years of memories in five seconds. It felt like a lifetime of agony, like my head would tear apart.

  Only the scent and taste of cinnamon kept me close to conscious, close to sanity.

  Finally the images stopped, and I shuddered as I released a breath I hadn’t realised I had been holding. I kept my eyes closed, resting my forehead against hers as she stroked my cheek.

  “The Rite of the Blood-sworn Bond,” she whispered. “Wherever did you learn that?”

  “A book I read once,” I answered, attempting to be funny.

  “No one has ever done that for me, Deimos. Thank you. Now I truly know where we stand.” She moved back and looked at me, seeing the pain the experience had caused me.

  “Stay here, and rest awhile my love. I will watch over you as you sleep.”

  I was so fatigued by the ordeal I didn’t argue, instead curling up on her bed, fully clothed, and drifting off almost immediately. Before sleep claimed me, that musical voice sounded right beside my ear.

  “I love you.”

  I woke up sometime later, being shaken gently back to consciousness by Corvi.

  “Come on, my love. You should get back to your own quarters before the rest of the base is up.”

  I pushed myself up into a sitting position, trying to ignore the hammering sensation in my head. My arm was sore, understandably, but at some point Corvi had bandaged the wound so at least I hadn’t been bleeding everywhere.

  “Are you trying to get rid of me already?” I asked playfully, trying to tell the noises in my head to go back to sleep. It was immensely painful, like something massive had just landed on
my skull.

  “No, my dearest,” she crooned from her dresser, “I just don’t want you to be harassed by the mortal contingent for our relationship.”

  “What about the vampire ‘set’?”

  “They’ll know anyway. They can smell it. But it is none of their concern.”

  She sounded supremely confident that she could handle her own people, and I didn’t doubt her.

  “How are you feeling this morning, anyway?” She continued her ministrations on her hair, her lightly applied cosmetics.

  Like a train ran over my head, I thought, trying to force the pulsing pain to die down.

  “I’m fine,” I told her instead. I knew she would worry otherwise.

  “Liar,” she said, looking at me with a wry smile. “I heard you the first time.”

  I was baffled at first, thoroughly bemused by what had happened. Then I finally managed to drag a memory from the fog of my headache. The ritual we had enacted created a low-level psychic bond between us, allowing us to better hear each others thoughts, sense emotions and even more abstract concepts. Only between each other, and it faded over distance, but it was a...unique experience. The other peculiar thing was that it seemed to subvert the trigger for my condition - Corvi was able to touch my mind after that without any ill effect on my part. That was always pleasant.

  I got up from the bed, easing my wounded shoulder through some of the morning stretches I had to do to prevent it stiffening up. I looked over at Corvi, plaiting her hair for a change, and noticed it wasn’t the only change.

  “Corvi, are you...are you wearing colour?” It certainly seemed like it. Which was quite a shock, and would probably surprise everyone else too. Corvi was known around the base for wearing pretty much only black clothing, and in fact our date had been the first time I’d seen her in anything but black. It was another reason why she was called ‘The Crow’ by the population of the base.

  “Yes, I actually felt like I had reason to today.” The shy smile was back on her face as she said that, a smile that reminded me her relationships had not been easy before, and that accepting me was a massive indication of her trust.

  “It looks lovely on you,” I told her, and it did. Instead of any of her usual black shirts or blouses, she had gone for a blood-red silk blouse, with short sleeves and gold stitching around the collar. She looked almost regal, but more than that she looked truly, stunningly happy. It’s sad to think that was such a massive change.

  After another couple of minutes she finished her morning ministrations and stood up, walking over to me with a fairly serious expression.

  “Deimos...I know when I asked last night you said you understood what the rite meant, but I have to ask again - are you sure, absolutely sure, that you understand the implications of the rite?”

  Now that the pain was beginning to ease I remembered, with vivid clarity, the texts I had read. What the ritual entailed, what it meant...and what the consequences were.

  “I do, hon. I’m already feeling that link, and that’s...odd.”

  “That isn’t the bit I meant,” she said, worry colouring her tone.

  “I know. I take it you’re more of a morning feeder?”

  She nodded. I think the idea of actually needing to cause me injury for her own physical need was an emotional torment for her, because she could barely even meet my eyes.

  “Well, take your pick. I’ve got plenty of veins to choose from.”

  My humour didn’t help. She walked away for a moment to retrieve something from her drawers, and returned with a gauze pad and some medical tape. Before continuing, she took my right arm, looking for a decent vein to bleed. She seemed unsatisfied, so she looked over my neck instead. I can’t deny having her cool hands caressing my neck the way she did was quite enjoyable, even knowing that pretty soon I was going to be in a lot more pain.

  “Yes, my love, I’m afraid you are,” she told me, and honestly I hadn’t even realised I had thought that. “This one.” She tapped the left side of my neck, then gestured to the bed.

  “You should sit, dearest. This...will not be pleasant.”

  I did as she asked, and allowed her to get comfortable next to me. She tenderly stroked my cheek, and turned my head to meet her eyes.

  “I will do what I can for you, but I can’t guarantee it will help much.”

  I nodded my understanding, and closed my eyes in anticipation of what came next.

  Her hand moved down to hold the other side of my neck - gentle, as always - and I felt a soft kiss against my skin a moment before she bit deep into my flesh.

  I grunted in sudden pain, unpleasant memories of that first night coming back to me in a flood - and then in an instant they were gone, replaced by a rush of emotion. Love, joy, a sense of companionship, all of that and more that I couldn’t describe flowed through me, and I knew it was Corvi’s doing - she was showing me her feelings to keep me distracted. And somehow it was working. It was like the mental equivalent of holding someone’s hand, or stroking their hair.

  The other bizarre thing - and I really don’t want you to judge me here - was how arousing it was. I can’t explain it, and please don’t think I’m into any weird sexual shit, because I’m not, but it was quite a turn-on. It didn’t help that her own thoughts started going the same route, or she started reflecting mine, or something, but damn it was intense.

  I didn’t know how long she drank from me for, but she disengaged suddenly and kissed me straight away. It wasn’t a normal kiss though, it was rough, forceful, hungry. She pushed me backwards so that I was laying down on the bed, moving to straddle me as she continued in that intense fashion.

  I knew this wasn’t normal for her, and I also knew this was not how I wanted our...first time together to be. I certainly didn’t have the strength to push her off, so I resorted to the only thing I had that would work - the link.

  Using the training I’d received, I cleared my thoughts of anything sexual or arousing. It was not easy, I can tell you, but I managed it, and in their place I focussed on sending thoughts of calm and peace.

  Her pace slowed, her hunger died off, and slowly she returned to her normal self. She looked at me in a sudden moment of realisation, then got up hurriedly trying to hide the blush that suddenly coloured her cheeks.

  “Oh gods Deimos, I am so so sorry, that was wrong, I’m so- fuck!”

  I wondered briefly what caused the sudden and out-of-character expletive, then realised when she grabbed the gauze and tape.

  I was still bleeding. A lot, by the feel of things.

  She sealed the wound with the gauze and tape, then gave me another kiss - a normal, tender kiss, with the addition of a mental caress.

  “You, um...you should head off now, my love. The others will be up soon.”

  I kissed her again, just because I could.

  “Ok. I’ll see you soon, I hope. Be safe, Sythan’en.”

  She blushed again at the use of the ancient honourific. Sythan’en was a name used only between those who had carried out the ritual that we had. It’s hard to offer a direct translation, since a lot of vampiric doesn’t translate properly, but the nearest I can provide would be ‘One who owns my soul.’

  I left her quarters at last, and headed back to my own, still in a mild state of shock about the events of the previous night. I hadn’t expected our relationship to progress so fast, but I couldn’t be disappointed - I was giddy in fact, almost delirious with happiness. I had not felt like this in a long time.

  I got back to my quarters without any interference from anyone else, which was a relief. I wasn’t quite ready to be discussing my personal life just yet, even though I felt sure it would be base news within a few days.

 
; I curled up in my own bed, and tried to sleep through the remaining hours until a normal time of day. Corvi was an early riser - it had been five a.m. when she roused me. I hadn’t slept much since being shot, what with most parts of my body being in pain, but eventually I managed to get a small amount of rest.

  And all the while, I felt a small pulse of emotion in the back of my mind, a fragment of someone else’s mind inside my own. I sent a final thought of love to Corvi, and stayed awake just long enough to receive her response.

  I didn’t think you could blush telepathically, but there you go.

  CHAPTER 7

  Good cop, bad cop

  I was once again disturbed, this time by the sound of someone apparently attempting to destroy my door.

  “Alright, for fuck’s sake, give it a bloody rest!” I shouted at the offending person, and checked the clock.

  It was three in the afternoon. Fuck. I hadn’t slept that late in the day since...well, quite a while. I was used to my soldier’s routine now, and it felt alien to me that I was awake at this stupid time.

  I crawled out of bed, still only in my boxers and t-shirt, and opened the door.

  “What the fuck, Deimos?!” Lev snarled, storming into my quarters.

  “Come in, why don’t y-”

  “Shut it, you fucking idiot.” She was angry about something. I had no idea what, but it seemed to have something to do with me.

  “Um...o...kay?”

  “I told you, I fucking told you, not to trust her! I met up with Corvi earlier to discuss things regarding your training, and I noticed that smell. Your smell. I told you not to trust her, and yet you let her make you into her own, personal food bank! You idiot!”

  I paused for a moment, while the white-haired banshee in front of me stopped seething.

  “Finished?”

  “You...fucking idiot,” she breathed one more time.