Dorian's Destiny: Altered (5 page)

Dorian couldn't resist sizing himself up.
Fortunately, Thomas remained on the opposite side of the pool,
elbows resting on the edge, preoccupied with his cigarettes.
Feeling sure his glances were still going unnoticed, Dorian let his
eyes wander below water level, and that's where their differences
became more pronounced.

“Why Dorian, are you checking me out?”
Thomas asked with a wicked grin. “Yes, I guess you are based on
that lovely shade of pink you're wearing.”

Dorian froze, horrified he had been caught
staring at Thomas' groin.

Glancing down his own
front, his smile widening, Thomas admitted. “I am well-endowed, but
let me ease your mind. If you're feeling inadequate, you have
nothing to be ashamed of,” spoken matter of fact as if this was a
common topic he discussed frequently, “Someday, you will thrill
women with what you have to offer – if you haven't already. Ah, I'm
guessing that you haven't since that pink is now red. I didn't even
realize a vampire could blush.” Thomas softly chuckled as he puffed
on his cigarette.

Finally unfreezing, Dorian repositioned his
gaze toward the glass ceiling.

“You look as though you would appreciate a
change of subject. Oh, and by the way, I didn't mean to be rude.
Would you like a cigarette?”

“No, thanks,” Dorian squeaked, not averting
his eyes from the sky.

“The view is breathtaking, isn't it? Far
more appealing than myself, especially since the stars don't give
you a hard time for admiring them. It's okay for you to enjoy
yourself, Dorian. Secluded in that forest for months, more than
earned you the right to some self-indulgence.”

Turning his gaze back to Thomas, Dorian
relented, “Fine, give me one.” He held out his hand and waited.

“Well, you'll have to come over here and get
it. No need to be shy at this point. I won't bite,” Thomas teased,
exposing his fangs.

Just being nude in a pool with another male
on the opposite side was almost too much for Dorian. Now he was
expected to get close enough to accept a smoke.

Making his way across the width of the pool,
he carefully maintained eye contact with Thomas. Once close enough,
he accepted the offered cigarette, bringing it to his mouth and
inhaling. He sputtered and coughed as he handed the cigarette
back.

“Yeah, these things will
kill you,” chuckled Thomas, finishing off the cigarette with one
draw then flicking it casually away. “My staff gets paid
considerably well to clean up after me.” Abruptly switching gears,
he asked, “Are you hungry?”

“Yes,” Dorian replied, once his coughing fit
had subsided.

“Come on then, let's get out of pool. Don't
know about you, but I've had quite enough of this awkward moment,”
Thomas revealed as he exited the pool. Seeing Dorian hesitating, he
added. “If it'll help, I'll turn my head while you get out and
redress.” He turned his head after receiving a sheepish nod from
Dorian. “You can just leave your towel on the floor.”

Dorian felt odd about leaving behind a mess,
but he did as instructed, and once redressed, followed Thomas into
the kitchen.

“I keep a supply of blood handy in case I
can't get out.” Thomas opened one door of an enormous silver
fridge; a stark contrast against the almost completely white
kitchen. He pulled out one of many jars lining half the shelves and
offered it to Dorian, who eyed it suspiciously.

“It's not human, if that's what you're
wondering,” assured Thomas. “When I knew you would be a house
guest, I made a stop by a local butcher. This might be pig, but I'm
not sure.” He held the jar up to his face as if trying to determine
its source. “Guess next time I could get the butcher to label them.
Do you have a preference?”

Shaking his head, Dorian finally accepted
the offered blood and drank while Thomas retrieved another
container from a different shelf for himself.

As the cold blood skimmed his tongue, Dorian
gagged, almost spitting it back out.

“Sorry, I know it tastes horrible cold, but
it beats starving. How about a grand tour of my humble abode?”

The grand tour was anything but grand, given
Thomas' tendency to bore easily. Within five minutes, he had
resorted to just spouting off what the property consisted of.
“There's a stable, gardens, blah, blah, blah...don't hesitate to
explore for yourself. Nothing is off limits for my house guests.”
As he spoke, Dorian dutifully followed, until they finally ended up
in a room located in what appeared to be the center of the house.
As he entered the room, Dorian had no idea it would soon become his
favorite room in the house; his sanctuary, a place he would spend
hours.

“This is the library,” Thomas declared, his
arms outstretched, showcasing the amazing space. All four walls of
the room where lined with bookshelves reaching floor to ceiling.
The only space without books was the elaborate fireplace.

Dorian walked over to the nearest shelf and
carefully caressed the richly bound books resting there, allowing
their musty odor to fill his nostrils. If he had first woken up
here, he would have been convinced he was in Heaven.

Thomas interrupted his admiration. “Come
have a seat with me by the fire. As I promised in the forest, I
will try to enlighten you on your condition.”

Barely able to pull himself away from the
shelves, the need for understanding won out. Dorian took a seat in
a brown leather chair opposite Thomas. A low lit fire provided
ambient light and soothing warmth.

“You mentioned the word vampire to me in the
forest, saying it was an enhanced species. I have never heard such
a word,” Dorian stated, eager to get the information that had
eluded him for months.

“No, I don't suppose you would, given your
upbringing. I will do my best to explain what a vampire is, as well
as answer any questions this knowledge invokes.” He rose from his
chair and casually walked over to a nearby table lined with glasses
and various containers filled with different colored liquids.
“Would you like a drink? It will help you relax.”

“Sure. You did say I earned plenty of
self-indulgence from my stint in the forest.” Dorian responded with
a shy smile.

“Yes, I did, and as you will soon learn, I
am quite the advocate for self-indulgence, earned or not.” Thomas
returned Dorian's smile with a wicked one. After pouring two
glasses halfway with amber liquid, he made his way back to the
fireplace. “Have you ever drunk Scotch before?” He handed Dorian
the glass. “It's my personal favorite.”

“No,” replied Dorian as he accepted the
offered drink.

“Well, this is a day of firsts for you,”
Thomas teased, bringing his glass up to tap Dorian's. “Cheers to
many more firsts.”

“Cheers,” Dorian softly repeated.

“Now, where to begin,” Thomas pondered,
lifting the glass to his lips. After taking a large gulp, he began.
“As I already told you, we are both vampires. The best way to
explain what that is, will be to begin with what it’s not, and that
is human.”

The Scotch, Dorian had just sipped, erupted
from his mouth, splattering himself and Thomas. He knew he had
changed, but hearing he was no longer human was difficult to take
in. Covering his mouth in shock, he whispered, “I'm sorry.”

“Well, I see that revelation was a bit of a
shock.” Thomas grimaced, wiping his pants with linen retrieved from
the table. “You had to know you were different...altered.”

Dorian nodded, having used those exact words
when he left home.

“Now, if you promise to
keep your drink inside your mouth, I'll continue.” Thomas smirked
as he handed Dorian the linen. After receiving a nod and inhaling
an even larger gulp of Scotch, he began again. “I consider us an
enhanced species above humans – which are an excellent source of
food and entertainment. Vampires crave blood; it's the only
sustenance we need to survive, although I still enjoy satisfying my
former human needs too. Most of our senses are heightened: Smell,
sight, hearing. They enable us to be better hunters I suppose. We
also possess retractable fangs and claws, which tend to react to
our emotions. All of that, you probably already knew. Oh, and our
eyes turn red when responding to the same stimulus as our fangs and
claws.”

Dorian did know all of what he had just been
told, except for the red eyes. He hadn't seen his reflection since
leaving home.

Feeling like he wasn't getting a thorough
explanation of his current state of being, he began his
questioning, “How does one become a vampire?” He needed to know the
how and why, not just what, and he hoped Thomas' answers to his
questions would finally fill in those blanks.

“To become a vampire, you must be drained of
blood to the point of death and then ingest vampire blood.”

“So, I guess the vision I had of being
stabbed was when it happened,” Dorian spoke more to himself than
Thomas, “but I don't remember drinking any blood. Do you have an
explanation for my lack of memory? Is that common?”

“I have no explanation for your memory loss
other than maybe your brain thought it too painful for you and was
trying to spare you. As for being common, I have no idea.”

“Do you remember?” He asked thinking maybe
details about Thomas' experience might jog his own memory.

“If you're asking do I remember being turned
then, yes, I do.” Thomas reluctantly answered before turning toward
the fireplace to avoid Dorian's questioning gaze. He appeared
nervous about where the conversation was going.

“Well?” Dorian prodded him to elaborate.

“Well, it wasn't pleasant, so it's a good
thing you have a mental block,” Thomas retorted without turning
from the flames.

“Maybe,” Dorian sighed. Sensing Thomas
wouldn't elaborate, he moved on. “Do you know who turned you?”

“Yes,” he whispered. Shifting in his seat
and unable to get comfortable, he knew what the next question would
be.

Dorian sat on the edge of his seat, hopeful
one of the largest blanks of his ordeal was about to be filled in.
“Do you know who turned me?”

There it was. The one question Thomas
dreaded most and was least prepared for. He hesitated, debating
whether to answer the question truthfully. Basing his response on
Dorian's unhappiness at being turned, he knew naming the culprit
wouldn't help his evolution. “No.” The lie slipped from his tongue
with ease; the first of many.

Disappointed, Dorian sat back in his seat.
He had longed for the name of the one to blame for ruining his
life. “Would I recognize who'd turned me if I met them?”

“I doubt it.” Thomas turned back to his
house guest to gauge his reaction to his next question. “Besides,
what would you do if you met him or her?”

“Ask them why,” Dorian blurted out. Beyond
that, he wasn't sure what he would do, but the anger welling inside
him over the prospect of a confrontation, suggested it wouldn't be
good.

“And then?” Thomas inquired continuing to
study Dorian's expressions.

Dorian shook his head.

“Well, I sense it would not be to thank
them, so meeting your maker would probably not be the best idea.
They might be offended you don't appreciate their gift.” Thomas
sipped his Scotch, attempting to calm his nerves.

“Gift?” Dorian spat angrily.

Ignoring his anger, Thomas
answered obviously. “Yes, I consider being
turned
a gift.”

Dorian couldn't fathom his curse could be
considered a gift. However, he sought information so instead of
accusing his host of insanity, he breathed out his anger and moved
on. “Is there a cure?”

This question enraged Thomas, but he kept it
from showing.

He has not fully embraced his new self, so
don’t rip his head off yet.

“Not that I am aware of and
I don't understand why you would want to be 'cured' from our gift.
We are immortal and cannot be killed since we possess the ability
to heal – which you found out the hard way,” Thomas answered
smoothly, pleased with himself for keeping his usually volatile
emotions in check.

Dorian furrowed his brow, unsure what he was
insinuating.

“I feel as though I should come clean and
tell you that I spied on you for quite some time before making my
presence known. I have to admit, I rather enjoyed parts of the
show. I was blown away by the suicide attempt. That was quite a
valiant act to mutilate yourself like that. Bravo,” Thomas
applauded.

Dorian wrung his hands; anxious at the
mention he had been watched. “How long did you spy on me?”

“About six months, on and off,” Thomas
replied casually as if his invasion of Dorian's privacy was no big
deal. “Sorry if that bothers you. I was curious to see how you
would progress on your own. When it became clear that you had
plateaued, I decided it was time to come out of hiding.”

“Exactly what did you witness?” Dorian
demanded, getting heated at Thomas' apparent lack of respect for
what he considered some profoundly personal moments.

“What does it matter?” Thomas shrugged.
“Basically, I observed lots of emotional purging.” He rose from his
chair. “Anyway, I'm going hunting. Would you care to join me?”

“NO.” Dorian answered curtly.

Picking up on his change in
mood, Thomas responded in kind. “Suit yourself,” continuing with a
much friendlier tone, “browse any of the books in my library. Some
contain information regarding our kind. However, keep in mind, most
are merely myths and folktales meant to scare children. If you find
anything of interest, I will be happy to confirm or deny its
validity when I return.”

Walking out the door of
the library, he turned around abruptly. “Oh, I almost forgot. My
staff is human, and will return in the morning. Please refrain from
killing any of them. Good help is so hard to find.” With that, he
was gone, leaving Dorian alone with thousands of books.
He felt Thomas was holding back and not divulging
all he knew, so he hoped he would uncover useful information in one
of the numerous books.