From Slate to Crimson (14 page)

I grinned disarmingly, and I felt her relax through it and my touch. “Are you ready?” I asked.

“I…I am,” she stammered.

“Don’t be afraid.”

Amelia nodded and closed her eyes, giving herself to me.

I brought my fingers into the folds of her sex. I then began to goad her into the throes of pleasure as I discreetly slid forward towards her neck. There, my fangs found their mark, and I drank.

This was the drink my inner beast had so longed for: a full, deliberate repast of mortal flesh long denied. The pleasure of it was devastating, enrapturing, and all I had wanted. Distantly, I heard her moan in the euphoria, and I grasped her to me, drinking deeply while my fingers manipulated her. Her body, pressed upon my own, writhed in time to my hand’s movements.

I imbibed the torrent of blood while I brought her close to her moment. She was panting and groaning, her legs locked tightly upon my wrist. Her arms encircled me and drew me close to her, her breathing quickening. She yelped and screamed as she came, her body releasing endorphins that would counter the pain of being turned. She arched her back as the floodgate of her sex opened. A last wash of blood went over my tongue as her heart pounded.

And then, it began to wane.

Her breathing became shallow, and her heartbeat slowed as I drank more deeply. I could feel fear rising within her: primal fear of mortal death. It was held in check by her implicit trust and love for me. She was struggling not to be afraid while I drained her of every drop of her life’s blood.

I admired the depths of her courage; most by this point would have struggled against me, despite the fact that the process was too far gone to stop.

I felt Amelia’s body weaken; her legs loosened from my hand and her bare skin grew colder in my arms as I withdrew my fangs with a roar of satiation.

It had been my final drink from her. After she would be Turned, her blood would be like human food: giving a moment’s pleasure, but no longer viable as a food source. Though her blood would be no less sweet, I would be forced to drink from our standard hosts once more for sustenance.

I sealed the wound and laid her in the bed. Amelia’s complexion was pallid, her eyes sunken, her lips dry and pale. I could barely hear her breathing. Her heartbeat was fading rapidly. In a few seconds, she would be dead.

Quickly, I bit into my wrist and pressed it against her half-open lips. I felt her tongue press against the flow that poured from my briefly ruptured artery, and then felt her mouth close upon my wrist. I felt the pull of her mouth as she swallowed reflexively, and then swallowed again…and again.

She moved the blood from my body into hers, starting the transformation. I knew it had begun when she released me abruptly, and she coughed, her face contorting in pain.

There was a knock at the door. I answered, concealing myself behind the door as I received the items I requested from two of my children who had heard my call. They bowed and I dismissed them. They would know what was happening. The smell of a human turning was a distinctive one, and Amelia’s painful groans were a telltale sign.

I waited by her side for an indeterminable amount of time, holding her hand as she endured the pain of the change, sensing the dull pains that wracked her body as organs changed and her metabolism altered.

She trusted me through it all, and was brave as she endured it, even as I died by inches at what I had done to her. I loved her enough to do this very thing that I had warned against those of my kind who fell in love with a human. Few of whom we formed bonds of love with were given this choice for fear of what Amelia said. She might very well not be able to master the thirst, or become consumed by our powers and give into arrogance, either option Lothos could use to his advantage and seduce her to his side.

Dear God…what had I done to her?

The change came to an end, and life suddenly surged through Amelia. Her body went rigid. She sat bolt upright, eyes wide, and turned directly towards me. Her eyes were now like ours. The former slate gray of her irises had become subsumed by crimson, and her pupils were lengthened to catlike slits.

She gazed at me for several seconds, a curious look in her eyes. It was almost as if she did not know me.

“Talante?” she said at last. “Is that you?”

She reached towards me and touched my face. Quickly she withdrew her hand.

“My God!” She stared dumbfounded at her fingers. “You feel…It’s not the same!”

“Your senses are changing,” I said.

“I…I don’t feel so good,” she quavered, bringing her hand gingerly to her stomach. And before she could say more, her hand quickly moved to her throat. She coughed and coughed, her face contorting into a rictus of agony.

She toppled to the side, her fit of coughing not abating. Her breathing quickened as she tightened herself into a fetal ball. Her side rose and fell in shallow pants, and then strained into a high-pitched choke as I felt the final torrent of sharp pains strike her body.

She was shaking, her palms pressed into her eyes as if making an awkward attempt to gouge them out. Her fingers had already changed: her nails now claws: longer, sharper and thicker, like mine. Her hands curled into fists, but unfurled quickly when the claws pierced her skin.

She stared at her hands, momentarily frozen in amazement and horror as the wounds sealed with barely a drip from them. Then she gasped as a new pain struck her. She screamed and slapped her hands around her mouth, stifling the rest of the sound. She doubled over again, squeezing her eyes shut, bawling into her hands. I watched as the color drained even more from her milky skin, transforming it into an almost translucent white as her side heaved from straining pants.

Several droplets of blood spilled from her mouth when she removed her hands. These were followed by her human canines, now replaced by fangs that were fully extended and visible below her pale gums. The change was complete.

“It’s…It’s going away,” she whispered, her voice weak and faint. She looked at me with bleary eyes and smiled. “You were right. It hurt, but it wasn’t as bad as withdrawal.”

I smiled back as she licked her still red lips with a pale tongue. “Oh, God…my God, I’m…so thirsty.”

Hurriedly, I went for the case of blood packs. I removed one from the steel container, its surface cold from the dry ice used to package it, and pressed it to her hands. “Drink,” I said with urgency. The thirst of the newly Turned was powerful, and she could have broken through the door to seek out a human if I did not quickly slake it. “Hurry.”

Amelia stared at the bag at first, hesitant with confusion and near disgust, not understanding how to open it, and with her human side balking at the idea of having to drink blood. But when she sniffed at it, all her reservations evaporated.

I saw her eyes flash with an all-too-familiar feral light. Her fangs tore into it with fierce gusto and she emptied its contents in one draft, swallowing loudly and rhythmically as she drained the contents of the pack.

I felt her exquisite, indescribable pleasure at that first drink overtake her as her eyes rolled back. She mewled in near-orgasmic delight, falling back upon the bed, her body twisting and undulating as if the liquid were making love to her from the inside. Amelia was completely oblivious to the speed at which she drained the bag, and when she at last noticed, she let out a lilting noise of frustration.

“You notice how good blood tastes to us,
hm?” I said with some amusement.

“
That
was blood?” Amelia was panting from the effects of her first drink. She stared at the empty plastic bag, and for the first time, noticed the writing upon its label. “Good God! That felt better than what you did to me last night! Is that what drinking blood does to you?”

“It does the same to all of us,” I said. “And that was probably the most tasteless of any blood you could drink. It’s refrigerated and preserved, strictly for emergencies.”

“You’re kidding!”

“You’ll eventually learn that I’m not,” I said, “but it’s too early to have you practice with humans.”

“I want more,” Amelia pleaded. She controlled the tone of her voice, but I felt her thoughts. They cried out for more like a junkie looking for his next fix. She was newly turned, and I would not deny her yet. For now, she needed to become strong. Training to control her thirst and her powers would come soon enough.

She finished three more bags after the one I gave her, and then settled heavily into the bed. The force of her movement released a loud belch from her. I watched with amusement as she turned red with embarrassment.

“I guess that means you’re full? I said, laughing as I settled beside her.

“Yeah,” Amelia said meekly. “I mean I don’t
feel
full, but I’m…I don’t know…satisfied, I guess. It’s really…” She frowned. “I wish I could describe it.”

“You’ll adjust,” I said, bringing her fingers to my lips. “You make a very beautiful vampire, you know?”

“I do?” She smiled.

“Oh, I forgot!” I said. “You never got the chance to see yourself in a mirror, did you?” With my other hand, I drew upon my Jewel and solidified the air into a flat, circular disk, rearranging the atoms behind the makeshift mirror to form a slate backing in order to make the surface of the ice reflective.

I let it float in front of Amelia as she examined herself. At first she gasped at the sight of her reflection, and then her free hand went to her cheek. She turned her head right, then left. Then she lifted her lips to view her now-retracted fangs. She winced when her sharp claws nicked her flesh, which healed quickly. She then examined her hands, her now-crimson eyes wide with wonder.

“Oh, wow!” she whispered, and I disintegrated the mirror into vapor.

“You’re more beautiful than ever,” I purred into her ear as I leaned forward.

“Wow, and this is when I’m naked,” Amelia said, giggling at the feel of my lips. Then suddenly, she stiffened.

“What is it?” I said, sensing the sudden alarm in her thoughts.

“I can feel you!”

“Of course you can feel me,” I said with a laugh as I nibbled absently at her earlobe.

“No, I mean, I can
feel
you! You’re more than just there; you’re…
there!
I can feel your… presence, I guess you would say: your love. Oh, Talante…do you really feel that way about me?”

So she was becoming aware of our ability to detect thoughts. I smiled, breaking off my play with her ear. Taking her other hand in mine, I touched my forehead to hers.

Now, you understand what you mean to me,
I said, sending the thought deliberately to her. I let my entire heart pour out my emotions to her so she would know the full extent of my love. I felt the coolness of her skin warm with her awareness of what I sent, and saw the tears in her eyes.

I love you, my Amelia. My consummate host. My dearest, most precious love!

Her thoughts, steeped in love and roiling passion, could not form a coherent word, but her emotions were enough to satisfy me. I kissed her, and we fell into the bed. I tasted her, and she was no less sweet than before.

I felt the sting of her fangs into my neck, and felt her arms tighten around me as she moaned in the renewed bliss of the drink. My fangs pierced her neck in turn, and we fed deeply from each other, drowning in each other. Neither of us would satisfy the other physically this way, but through it we expressed our desire all the same. Our kind did this during love, a sharing of each other, in spite of our uselessness to each other as food. The taste and effects were no less potent than when feeding from a human, and the pleasure was just as devastating.

Upon the onset of morning we fell asleep in each other’s arms. The next night must have been a quiet night among my children, because there had been no disruptions the entire evening, which, after breakfasting upon the remaining blood packs, we spent testing each other’s preternatural stamina in bed.

By then, Amelia had drunk enough blood to offset her gauntness that I had caused in draining her blood to turn her. Her body was much warmer, and her soft skin had regained its suppleness as we had all we could of each other, erasing hour by hour the shame I felt at making her one of my children.

* * * *

At the breaking of the dawn, my shame had become gladness and a maddening desire to make permanent the bond I had sealed in blood. I resolved to seal it just as fully in vows as I gave Amelia her own Jewel: a diamond encrusted golden ring, along with a proposal she had never expected of me, but nonetheless accepted, her response enthusiastic, and given before I could even finish the question. I can only guess that
she figured if she were to tie her destiny with me, then she would do it fully, folly or not.

In for a penny, in for a pound.

* * * *

Amelia showed little regret at leaving her mortal life, and took to my training with the passion of a zealot. I had always underestimated how happy she had been with me, as well as my happiness at being with her. Surely, I believed, it could not be folly to have such happiness after spending so incalculably long in loneliness.

I had never actually felt alone, truth be told, but when Amelia made herself part of my life, I became fully aware of just how solitary my existence had been, especially when she braved the withdrawal for our love’s sake. But I cannot help but ask myself, in such a time as this, in what could be the cusp of a time of attrition, the closest thing to an apocalypse for our kind, was it truly wise to bring Amelia into this? Despite our love, despite the array of powers at her disposal against our enemy, seeing her dead is still a very real possibility. Could I endure that?