by Ruby Raine
“Have you thought about what your choice will do to Annie? Or me?” Jean wasn’t ready to let it go just yet. “Or those humans you claim to love so much? Is Melinda aware of your intentions?”
“It matters not. The fact is, I cannot go on in this world once the human I love is no longer breathing. I would become a useless shell. My life would no longer serve any purpose.” He didn’t feel so very far from a shell already. “Whether her death happens next week, or in sixty years, the thought of it alone has already broken me. The act of it will be my undoing.”
“Do you have no hope of surviving this?”
“No. Because unlike Angelina, I let it in. I let the love in... and believed.”
And now he was denying it. A sure way to fall, for a vampire.
The sincerity of his words pinched at the heart no longer alive in Jean’s chest.
“Let us not speak more on this now. If Annie wants to go with you, she’s free to, of course. I think it would do her some good, even if I don’t agree with the long term assessment of your life.”
William refused to look at his old friend. They did not hide things from each other, but admitting this agony aloud was painful in a way that left him weak. Not just physically. Somewhere in the depths of him, it slowly sucked out whatever life force still existed inside him.
“It’s always been your biggest downfall,” Jean scolded as she went to leave him. “You’ve never once believed yourself worthy of anything but being alone. And now you have started to believe, and you’re giving up. And making that dreary belief come true.”
He spun around, eyes seething at her in the doorway. “I will not take another life to satiate my own,” he snarled at her. “And I will love no other.”
“If you won’t choose to accept that love, then you are truly lost.”
“I am choosing love. I have always chosen love.”
“Just not for yourself.”
“I am choosing to let Melinda live her life as it should be.”
“As you say it should be.”
“My choice is made.”
“Maybe so, but I’ll not say goodbye, just yet.” Jean left him. Sped away to the pub, and clearer space. Annie would tell something was bothering her; she’d need to gather herself before getting there so as not to worry her.
William stared at a blank space on the wall for he wasn’t sure how long.
These were thoughts and decisions he’d kept to himself until now.
He had no intentions of telling anyone else but Jean, and she’d begrudgingly and regretfully, keep his secret.
Sleep.
Rest.
He wished so deeply for respite, of any kind. Just a few precious hours of mindless nothing. For everything to turn off.
An impossibility. And no point in lingering in the wish.
His eyes fluttered closed, a groan rumbling in his throat.
Now that this terrible conversation was over he had to return home and take care of another unsavory task.
WILLIAM MEANDERED HIS way back home, taking his time. Once there, he called out for Riley, motioning for the young man to follow him. He did so, silently, nerves on high alert according to the erratic heartbeats the vampire was picking up.
William proceeded down a long stone set of stairs, Riley not far behind. Even with their far too honest conversation the day before, the young man wasn’t so sure he wasn’t being led to some form of punishment to be doled out by the vampire.
At the bottom of the stairs was a basement, finished, but not your normal basement where you might find stored foods, or laundry, or boxes of forgotten belongings. It was a series of stone and iron cells. An old prison? Riley’s new permanent residence? Another flicker of panic, which William brushed off.
“When I first created this place, we had need of these,” the vampire explained. “I had them built to my specifications. When we had new arrivals in Sorcier, there was a required vetting process before they were permitted to join the colony.”
“They’re similar to the one you use in the Howard Mansion,” gulped out Riley. He didn’t want to recall the memories of his time in the vampire’s room there. He’d been tied up in that room, and attempted to defile Melinda just to piss off the vampire. Another memory he wished to scrub out of his brain. “I don’t suppose this job you have for me requires me to drink beer. Or tequila? You know, like, a lot of it,” he chattered glumly.
William saw a familiar misery in the young man’s eyes he knew was also in his own. Riley needed something to numb the pain, dull the images, suck away the thoughts.
“I’m afraid you would not enjoy the beverage of choice,” William retorted in dry flatness. He stopped outside the last cell on the right hand side. It was sparse compared to the one he had on The Demon Isle. The basic comforts were there. A bath, some books, a sofa. It was created for extended stays, but not too comfortable. Outside the cell though, for some reason, was a fridge.
William opened it and Riley’s stomach rolled.
Blood. A ton of it.
Maybe William was planning on turning Riley into a vampire so he couldn’t have Melinda either. And he’d lock him in this cell and feed him blood, and...
“I can’t imagine what insane thoughts are crowding your brain right now, Riley. I can almost see your mind trying to work this out. Whatever you’re thinking, you’ll be wrong. This isn’t any sort of punishment. Well, you might not see it that way in a few days,” he argued his own statement. And he actually let out a sigh. Actually sounded tired.
Riley’s face pinched inward, some pieces falling into place. “This isn’t anything for me, this is for you.”
“Yes. I have not detoxed as you’d put it. And I cannot wait a single day more. The cold human blood is no longer enough to sustain the thirst, and I cannot allow myself to have the fresh-from-the-vein kind or, well, things will get ugly fast. The kind of ugly in which I end up at the pointy end of a wooden stake.” Sooner than later, this was inevitable anyway. Funny, how he was so sure of his outcome, but also sure it was not to be this day. Or week. Even though it would mean a lifetime of suffering as he loved Melinda from afar, and she moved on from him. He needed to wait until she was leaving this world, to leave it too.
“This is because of all the human blood you had to drink because of what I did to you, isn’t it?” Riley’s voice got tight.
“Yes.” His one-word explanation was simple fact only, not accusatory in any way. “Let’s forget you are the reason why, Riley, and agree now, that you’ll take on the job of helping me dry out. I cannot leave Sorcier until I do.”
Riley took a breath and nodded. How could he say no? He was responsible for the vampire’s bloodthirsty state, he needed to fix it. Although he had a terrible feeling he was getting the easy part of the job.
“This is really going to suck ass, isn’t it?”
William shot him a gaze that warned, you have no fucking idea...
“So when do you want to do this?” asked Riley.
“Now. We start now. You will lock me in this cell for seven days.”
“Wow. That long?”
“Yes. It must be this long to ensure it works properly. If you look in the fridge, you’ll see each box has a number to correspond with each of the seven days. You must follow this feeding schedule to its exactness.”
“Okay.”
“No deviations. No matter what happens, inside, or outside this cell.”
Riley swallowed a dry pocket of stale air.
William pointed to the cell next to his. “That will be your room for the next week. Once you lock me in, you’ll have two hours to kill until it’s time for my next blood pack. You can move whatever belongings you need to be comfortable. I might suggest some headphones.”
“Headphones?” Dread followed that word.
“After the first day, there will be yelling. Snarling. Growling. Obscenities. Wall punching. A general vampiric tantrum of epic proportions.”
“Um, okay.” The w
ords, are you sure I’m right for this were about to come out of his mouth...
“Riley, I will be like any junky trying to come down off a drug addiction. You must promise me, right here and now, I do not care if the world is ending, you will not let me out of this cell until after the seventh day. Until after I’ve gone through all the blood in that fridge.”
He nodded, as confidently as his freaked out mind allowed.
“Yeah. Okay. Got it. I got it.” He swallowed hard. “What’s in the potion bottles?” There were three in the fridge alongside the blood. Although their consistency looked eerily similar.
“Werewolf blood, should I become, uncontrollable. Or attempt escape.”
“Aren’t’ these cells secure?”
“Yes. But never underestimate the strength and thirst of a starving vampire.”
“Point noted.”
The way William spoke, he was already starving.
“Do not hesitate to use the werewolf blood, Riley. Because if I escape and you hesitate, it’s your neck I’ll be sinking my fangs into first.”
“Right...” and didn’t that suck all remaining air from his lungs.
William stepped into the cell. “I will apologize in advance,” he stated as Riley shut him in.
“Why? I did this to you.”
“Exactly.” The vampire’s stare went wild, and dark. “Most of my anger will be aimed at you.”
“Guess I’ll be getting a dose of my own medicine,” muttered Riley.
“If you hated me before,” seethed William, “you will loath me once this is done. Now lock the damn door. And hand me the first blood pack.”
So Riley did.
If suffering alongside the vampire somehow cleaned his slate, and earned the forgiveness everyone kept insisting there was no need to ask for, he’d do it. He’d take every last shot the vampire threw at him, just as the vampire had been forced to do by him.
And thus began seven days of hell...
LIZZY’S BODY REFUSED to obey a single command.
What was going on?
Where was she?
Why could she not see anything but darkness? Or move? Or blink? Or even breathe correctly? Whose voices were around her?
Panic blasted through her mind, and only her mind because everything else refused to work right.
Panicking isn’t going to do you any good, she screamed at herself.
But I can’t move.
I can’t open my damn eyes.
Charlie... it was his voice she was hearing.
Talking to who? A man, a familiar voice but she could not place it.
Why were her eyes refusing to open? She needed to see what was happening.
What is that beeping?
It all slammed back into her mind at once. She and Lucas had been driving home and she’d dozed off. The next thing she remembered was waking up just as his truck crashed into a tree. And then... now. Waking up in darkness. With a body refusing to work right.
Logic told her she must be at the hospital.
That’s what the beeping was. Some machine in the hospital. And Charlie was talking to the doctor. Dr. Walter was his name. Okay, see, don’t panic. This can’t last long. They probably had to sedate me, and I’ve not fully awakened yet.
However, words meant nothing. Actions did.
Minutes passed. She assumed. And then a few more. The minutes beginning to feel like hours. How long did it take to wake up after being knocked out? How long before something worked other than her thoughts?
Not only my thoughts, I can hear too. And thank God for that, because if I couldn’t hear I think I’d already have lost my mind. Ha... it’s about the only thing you can lose right now. Better pray you keep that!
The sick humor was lost the minute she begged her body to move, in any manner.
Not a damn thing obeyed her.
God, not this. Not this again. Anything but this.
Imprisoned inside a body that wasn’t working properly. Hadn’t she done this already?
Lizzy screamed in her mind for her mouth to move, to call for Charlie.
Not a movement or sound. Vocal chords in some permanent resting state. Except there was a sensation in her throat. No, further down. Her lungs. Air being pumped in and out.
Oh my God, I’m not even breathing on my own. Just how bad had the accident been?
A trembling hand slipped into her own. Soft lips kissed her palm.
Charlie...
Lizzy focused on the fact that she could think, hear, and feel. This was better than nothing and must mean she’d wake up from this nightmare soon. If she didn’t get herself into a panic that gave her a heart attack first, that is.
“Lizzy? Can you hear me?” Charlie spoke to her, the desperation for a response, telling of the grim situation. “Can you hear me, Lizzy?” He stroked her arm in a loving caress.
She tried with every fiber in her being to respond in any manner.
A movement.
A twitch.
A blink.
A groan.
Anything! To tell him she was awake in here.
But only silent screams came out.
How the hell was it possible for her physical body to completely shut down, and her mind to remain on, and working? Thoughts and conscious the only things working correctly.
Perhaps in a sick way it was better she could not see Charlie talking to her. Adding the sight to the sound might be more than she could handle. To see the hopelessness etched in those eyes staring back at her.
Because that’s all she heard in his words. And that’s exactly what she was.
Helpless. Hopeless. Stuck. A prisoner once again.
Was this her lot in life? Had the time since freeing herself from her ghastly prison been borrowed time? Was she not meant to live her human life?
“Lizzy, I’m so sorry,” Charlie stammered. “I tried to heal you. It didn’t work. And now the doctor says you’re in a coma. Please come back to me. Please wake up.”
Lizzy Deane did not hear his plea to wake up. Her thoughts didn’t make it past coma...
She’d exchanged one prison for another.
From a ghastly form in which she had some freedom, albeit little, to imprisoned inside her real body, the only thing free now, her mind.
A nightmare come to life.
A nightmare returned.
She might as well have died and gone to hell.
This was it for her. Her own personal version of hell.
Was she doomed to forever be a prisoner?
Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.
Whatever was making that sound was speeding up.
A door swished open, footsteps shuffled around her bed.
“What’s happening?” demanded Charlie. No response. “Dr. Walter? Please...”
“Um, nothing. Nothing at all.” Clearly a lie. The doctor pretended to look over some charts.
“You would not run in here if it was nothing.”
The doctor sighed. He peered down at Lizzy and shook his head dejectedly.
“I’m sorry, Lizzy.” He moved his gaze to Charlie. “This is the hardest thing any doctor can ever tell someone, other than,” Charlie cut him off.
“Please don’t tell me she’s dying...” an unfair request.
“You might change your mind.”
“What could possibly be worse than dying?” But the worse hammered at Charlie like a thick iron nail stabbing into his heart. He bounded up from his chair, gaze fixed on Lizzy in horror. Please don’t let this be true. “Are you... sure?”
Dr. Walter nodded. “I’m sorry. This chart indicates the right kind of brain activity. Lizzy is awake.”
“Why won’t her body work then?”
“Coma’s can be complex, Charlie. I will not lie or sugarcoat. We need to run more tests.” He turned back to Lizzy. “Be sure, Lizzy, we will do all we can to fix this. And we won’t do anything that causes you additional pain, or discomfort.” He grabbed her other hand and squeezed l
ightly, letting it go and leaving the room to prepare more tests.
Charlie leaned over her and gently kissed her cheek. “You will not be alone. You will never be alone. I promise. I promise.” He stroked her cheek, repeating his promise a few more times.
This was an outcome a thousand times worse than death for anyone. But for Lizzy, this was a nightmare come to life. Charlie blew out a tormented breath. How was he going to tell everyone else? How was he going to handle this without going mad? Jesus! How was she?
He attempted calm, but he wasn’t fooling anyone. Least of all the woman imprisoned on the hospital bed.
“Lizzy. I need you to stay strong. Try not to panic.” Even though it’s what he was doing. “I don’t care what the doctor says, or finds out, I will fix this. Any way I can. And I will not leave you alone for a single moment. You will not go through this alone.”
He slid back into his chair by her bedside, sure to keep her hand in his. Constant contact of some form, he thought. Either touch, or voice. He’d talk to her so she knew she was not alone.
She had to be going insane. How could she not be?
He stroked her arm, kissed her palm, searching desperately for any response.
Nothing.
“This is your worst nightmare,” Charlie stated the abhorrent truth. And he needed to end the nightmare, now, before it went on a minute longer. But how?
There was one way, and without a second thought to reason, or consequences, a growl pushed through his teeth and he was on his feet leaning over her, teeth pinching into the delicate skin of her shoulder. And just as instantly he tore them away before he drew blood, or released any werewolf venom into her body.
He backed away, disgusted by what he’d just done.
“Oh, God, Lizzy. I’m so sorry.” He’d gone into a complete panic and out of sheer need to heal her, had almost bitten her. Or had the ring stopped him? He wasn’t even sure and it didn’t matter. He’d stopped, that was all that mattered at the moment.
Charlie rubbed her shoulder gently, apologizing over and over. He found his seat again, a defeated breath falling out of his mouth. “I almost bit you. I’m so sorry, Lizzy. I panicked. You deserve the truth, and I won’t be anything but honest with you. You deserve the truth.”
