From Slate to Crimson (12 page)

She became my trusted confidante and compassionate lover. I poured my heart out to her, and she gave herself to me in blood as I fed, and in flesh as our sweating bodies twisted and conjoined in passion in my bed.

A month after the incident at the club was when it happened. Several of my children had arrived at the Lair that evening, gravely injured, but victorious after having been ambushed by several of Lothos’ clan. Their wounds were severe, and some were maimed, but none had been lost.

Time in their coffins and transfusions of blood would heal them, and their mutilated limbs would heal or grow back. In a time ruled by fear and uncertainty, it was our first victory, and despite its costliness, it set my clan, as well as me, in high spirits.

That was, until Justin confided in me several hours later, waking me up in my chambers with a mental alert.

“Master, we lost contact with the Seattle village,” he said.

“What?” I exclaimed, shaken from my bed, though Amelia slept on.

“I rallied some reconnaissance, and they said that it was burned to the ground. No survivors, as far as we know.”

“That was supposed to be our most secure area,” I said, too stunned to know how to feel. “It’s stood for centuries. How could he have—?”

“Perhaps that was what he was doing, Master,” Justin said. “During the last time of calm, perhaps he had been testing our weaknesses, or discovering more about our hiding places.”

“Yes, but he couldn’t send in spies,” I said. “We would
smell them in an instant.”

“Maybe not. The Others have been known to distract thoughts; a few of them know how to do that, at least.”

“Yes, and if you combine that with their shape-shifting,” I mused, “then they might just be able to do it. But it would take a lot of effort, and they would’ve had to learn how to disguise their scents. Is that even possible?”

“Maybe Lothos is honing their powers in that manner.”

“That may be true,” I said. “But from what I’ve observed, those powers take years to hone, and the few that Lothos ever trained in that way never became as good as we were.”

Lothos and his clan excelled at shape shifting, while the mental abilities of our clan were our strength. But it was not improbable that during the calm, he could have
been trying to hone those mental powers to their limit, as well as master new types of shifting.

I paused, ruminating over this supposition, and then at last giving voice to my thoughts. “I believe we shouldn’t leap to some wild conclusions.”

“Can we afford
not
to, master?” Justin said.

“It is a dangerous time for us,” I warned. “Though this hypothesis may well be correct, I’d rather not drive the others here to paranoia. Tell no one of this conversation, Justin. I will deal with things accordingly. You have done well.”

“Thank you, Master.”

* * * *

I believe it was a sense of paranoia growing within me that drove me to believe my children and I would no longer be safe in our Lair. Of course, the notion was ludicrous; there was no safer place for my kind. Since we moved to the New World over two centuries ago, it had been our home, and neither it nor the village below had ever been disturbed by Lothos’ kind.

With the utmost subtlety I had scanned the minds of all who entered or left our dwelling for the next three nights, yet found nothing to warrant suspicions. This settled me somewhat, despite the alarming loss of one of our villages. Such a thing had happened before, but with the recent upsurge of enemy activity, I had reason to be on edge.

At the same time, the feelings I detected within Amelia not long ago had begun to surface. I saw the change begin to come about in her, manifesting at first from within as an uneasiness that she hid from me on the outside. It was a growing feeling that even sex could not put aside.

Her silence had been a result of her tendency to forget about my ability to read her thoughts. Nevertheless, I waited until she felt ready to talk. She had been patient with me as I discussed the concerns and troubles of myself and my clan, yet I was cautious with her for reasons I could not explain. Fortunately, I did not have long to wait until she divulged her troubles to me.

We stood on the topmost balcony of the Lair when she confessed to me. It was a peaceful, full moon night. The sun had just vanished; it was now barely a pale maroon band on the extreme starlit horizon.

I was entertaining Amelia with my ability to see the goings-on in the village beyond. I revealed to her how I kept our home safe from intrusion by keeping it between here and there with a special technology kept in Jewels. These Jewels I bequeathed to our most valued colleagues. We had become silent for awhile, gazing at
the stars, when I heard her sigh. I felt Amelia’s contentment become overshadowed with sadness and uncertainty.

“Is something wrong?” I said unobtrusively.

“Not really,” she lied. I laughed in my way that exposed her deception.

“Oh, you!” she said in mild consternation. “I’ll never get used to your mind reading, I guess.”

“Many humans never do,” I said with amusement.

Amelia went silent for several long moments. She knew I was waiting, but I remained patient to hear what she was building the courage to say.

“It’s just that ever since the first time we made love, you know, when you told me it was probably the effects of my drink that made me love you, I just couldn’t shake the notion that…well…that maybe you might be right.”

So
that
was the problem, I thought. I had only meant to derail her persistence, but instead, I had inadvertently planted seeds of doubt in her mind.

“Oh?” I said, revealing nothing of my thoughts.

Amelia leaned in closer to me. We had not made love that night. She claimed she had been exhausted from work, and despite the falsehood, I let her be, refraining from even feeding from her. I had regretted this as the scent of her blood was especially strong, especially inviting, and I was especially hungry for her.

“As of late, it’s really begun to bother me,” Amelia said. “I’ve been with other men before you, Talante, but I’ve never been ‘in love’ with them. I’ve never felt the way I do for someone like I do with you. Vampire or not, you make me feel alive, like I’m truly wanted, and not quite as ‘boring,’ like my friends think I am. But when I think that the way I feel might be just because of you drinking from me, it makes me feel…”

Her hands clasped my shoulder tightly. She made no sound, but I could sense the roiling confusion within her. Nevertheless, a wave of determination came forward as she prepared herself to say what she did.

What she said, however, filled me with fear of my own.

“I…I’ve made up my mind, Talante. I want to be clear about how I feel with you.”

My insides wrenched at the realization. “You want to brave the withdrawal?” It came out sounding like a statement, although I knew this was exactly what she wanted. “Amelia…do you have any idea what you’re asking?”

“Not really,” Amelia admitted, “but I know I want this. Talante, be honest with yourself. Don’t you want me to
know
I love you genuinely, and not just because of some addiction that came from chemicals in your saliva? Not that I mind what you do,” she turned away, and I caught a shade of crimson on her face, “but don’t you want to know for certain?”

“But what if you find out your feelings
aren’t
real?” I said. “My feelings certainly are.”

“And what feelings are those? What do I mean to you?”

“My life,” I said, my words heavy with conviction. “I wish you knew just how much you mean to me…how much I
need
you.”

“Do you love me?”

I opened my mouth, ready to say what I longed for, but fear seized my muscles and my voice went silent. Had I not spoken to my children about the consummate bond? Had they not shared that intimate knowledge with me? Had I not in years gone by longed to have such a bond with a human, dangerous though it might be? Did I not long to give that last piece of my heart to Amelia, despite what it would mean for us?

I looked down at the balcony railing. At last, the closest words to the truth that I could muster fell from my lips.

“It’s…much deeper than that, Amelia. It’s so much more.”

I cursed myself. I could not even say the word. And the disappointment I felt from Amelia pierced my heart like a serrated dagger. Nevertheless, I could not stop the tears from reaching my eyes as I returned my gaze to her. I reached out and touched her cheek. My voice was a quavering croak as I spoke. “Please don’t do it. You’ve been my host for too long. Even if you survive, the pain…”

“I can handle it,” she said. God, she sounded so certain; if she only knew! “And I want to do it, Talante. For us. Please don’t stop me.”

I grasped the balcony railing so hard that the stone began to crack. If the withdrawal did not kill her, she would endure pain so terrible, she would wish it had. But it was her choice, and I would not deny her. “I won’t,” I said. “But you may be sorry.”

Her determination did not waver. I could see it, firm and bright in her beautiful gray eyes. She had become so much stronger since we had first met. I was at once proud of her, and yet terrified. I did not have the heart to tell her that I had only seen a handful of humans who wished to brave the addiction this late in the process actually see it through. They were all men, much taller and larger than she was, and each of them begged for death as they endured it. A few did die. Nevertheless, I could not and would not overstep her will in this. It would be done.

We made love that night, more deeply, feverishly, and longer than ever before. At first, I had to coax her into bed, but this did not take much effort.

She wanted to go through the process immediately, but I told her that it would take time to prepare, and that her body would not show signs of it for several days. Still, I knew that my explanation was not purely academic; after all, if she came through this and found that her feelings were not genuine, it would perhaps be our last time together.

I lost count of how many times we climaxed; I made love to her as one driven mad, and she matched the strength of my desire, giving every bit as much as I gave, goading me on with her voice and scent as I released myself time and time again, and she cried out in orgasmic delight.

“Again,” she would say, breathless, needful, her desire unabated, and I would again oblige her, pushing my own limits as much as she. We made love with a fervor that surpassed that of our first time, pushing ourselves until utter exhaustion forced us to stop.

That night, holding her in my arms, sweating and panting, and bathing her with a buffet of kisses, I was satisfied that I had sufficiently overwhelmed her senses, drowned her in pleasure, and given her one last taste of me before she would have to endure the torment of withdrawal.

* * * *

Amelia was trembling slightly when I brought her to the Lair four nights later. Reanon, our local scientist and medic, was standing by in the room Elisa had helped me prepare. We fastened Amelia into the bed using restraints.

Amelia’s voice was hollow and breathy when she spoke; sweat lined her brow. The first stages of withdrawal had begun. “Why are…you doing…this?” she asked.

“It’s for your safety,” I answered. “Some have died enduring this, and by their own hands. The restraints are a protective measure.”

“I…won’t kill myself…Talante,” she said, sounding almost insulted.

“You don’t know that,” Elisa told her, as she secured the last restraint on her ankle. Afterwards, Reanon ran an IV drip into her veins.

“What’s that?” For the first time in a month, Amelia showed fear. And then I realized she had an aversion to needles. I would have laughed if the situation were different.

“Be brave, Amelia,” I said. “This won’t hurt you. It’s a specialized extract of garlic.”

“I thought…garlic…was…an old wives’ tale.”

“Garlic, yes,” Reanon said, “but certain substances in garlic, mixed with other ingredients make a powerful irritant to our skin, eyes, and lungs. This, however, is a very mild version of that mixture. It slowly eradicates substances that are unique to our body that are in you; in other words, it ‘flushes’ the vampire out of you. It will also ease the pain, but only a little. Trust me, you’d be a
lot
worse off without it.”

Amelia held back her fear and nodded. Reanon affixed the IV to her arm.

“Now we wait,” I said.

* * * *

An hour passed. Amelia tried to rest, but found it impossible. I stayed by her side, wiping her brow with a wet towel as her fever ran higher. There was little I could do; the substance in her blood was tenacious and resistant to any drugs that could ease normal withdrawal symptoms. Only time would purge her.

As the hours passed, her symptoms worsened. Her limbs began to twitch, and she groaned. So close and so deeply connected to her, I felt her pain just as acutely. I tried to filter it from my mind, but the sight of her suffering brought it back.

She vomited several times; each time, I cleaned the mess until there was nothing left to clean. Still, she dry heaved, and cried each time it happened.

I wiped her brow dutifully until Elisa came in and took pity on me. She convinced me to leave her side and go to my coffin; morning was coming, and I was growing tired.