chapter 13
Haine let himself into his little house. He tossed his keys on the counter. Closing his silvery blue eyes, he ran a pale hand through his glossy silver hair. He felt strange. The woman he had picked up at the bar hadn’t smelled stoned, but maybe he had missed something. Designer drugs were sometimes a little harder to sniff out than the usual ones. He swayed, leaning against the wall.
A sharp pain stabbed through his head, and his eyes flew open, flashing to liquid silver, then a murky, blood red. The room shifted, going in and out of focus around the searing pain in his head. His breath came in a pant, then stopped altogether as he struggled for control.
Something cold and evil touched the recesses of his mind, calling his name. The presence in his brain was an ancient evil, and it was pissed that he’d gotten away from its clutches. It twisted through him, like dust, and mold, and things that skittered unseen in the darkness. He put his hands to his temples and squeezed. Bruises blossomed under his hands, but he couldn’t feel it over the struggle that went on inside him.
“Out…” he wheezed, grunting with the effort to breathe. He didn’t need oxygen, but breathing made him more human. The thing inside his head hadn’t bothered to breathe in years- didn’t remember what it felt like to be human. It didn’t have the need to keep up the appearance of being anything other than evil death. He was able to fight it only because he’d had hundreds of years of practice. He desperately tried to latch onto something good, something pure that would keep him afloat in the sea of choking loneliness that threatened to swallow him.
A woman’s face drifted into his mind, innocence and knowledge, strength and fragility all in one. He immediately snuffed the image, not wanting to reveal it to the invader. The sight of her face had given him enough distance from the evil to pull himself back from the brink of insanity. “Get…out!”
The burning cold in his head gradually began to recede, leaving him crumpled on the floor. His silver eyes slipped closed, long silver lashes resting on cheeks that were even more devoid of color than their usual ivory perfection. He curled into the fetal position, shuddering as cold tears leaked from his closed eyes. So close. It had been so close. And he had seen her.
*****
I stayed at the library much later than usual that night, making up for lost time, and wanting to get a head start on my tasks for the next day. Peter had promised to take me on a picnic outside of town and I wanted to be able to leave early. We would be away from prying eyes, which meant he didn’t have to disguise his otherness. Last time we had a picnic he had carried me piggyback into the woods so I could go anywhere I wanted. In the open spaces, he had run with vampire speed and I had reveled in the feel of the wind in my hair.
When I locked up, my attention was only half on what I was doing, my mind spinning with possibilities. I heard a soft step behind me, but I didn’t react right away, thinking it must be Peter, come to see me home. A big hand landed on my shoulder and jerked me around, making me drop my keys. I looked up into the eyes of the brown-haired monster, Viktor. He smiled. It wasn’t a comforting sight.
“What do you want?” My voice sounded scared, even to my own ears. Peter had said they were simply pulling pranks on him, giving him a hard time because he wouldn’t conform to their ways. I thought he might be right about Cynthia and the others. But not this guy. Something about Vicktor was a little too intense. I thought he might be willing to go beyond pranks for the sake of his loyalty to Leah.
He arched an eyebrow and shook his head. “Sorry about this, peach.” He sounded genuine, though not greatly regretful. “You’ll thank me someday, if your boyfriend has the balls to make it worth your pain.” Then he pulled me out of my wheelchair. Thankfully, I wasn’t wearing my lap belt. I’m pretty sure it would have broken both my legs.
He held me up by the front of my sweatshirt. I struggled and kicked awkwardly with my clumsy legs, but it was pointless. I’d been here before, and I knew how it would end. He was stronger than any human, and I was quite a bit weaker than most.
He sank his teeth into my throat. I gasped, but didn’t scream. It all happened so fast I barely had time to register what was going on. He wasn’t gentle about it, but he didn’t let me feel too much pain. I struggled weakly, but his aura was strong and I could already feel my traitorous body relaxing, lulled by the hormones he was exuding as he killed me. My vision started to go black around the edges and he lifted his head. His mouth was red with my blood. It almost looked black in the dim streetlight. He dropped me in a heap on the sidewalk and I barely avoided hitting my head, catching myself roughly with my hands. The vampire picked up my chair with one hand. Stooping, he hauled me up by an arm and strode toward the riverside park, dragging me along.
I was sobbing by this time, cursing and screaming, but there was no one around to hear. This area of town was mostly businesses, and they had all closed down hours ago. I tore at his hand where it grasped my wrist. I gouged at his skin with my nails, and angled around to bite him. I might as well be attacking a statue. I doubt I did any damage, and although he swore softly a couple of times, it seemed that my attempts were more annoying than painful. He continued to drag me down toward the river, off the sidewalk and across the soft grass.
Finally, we reached the water’s edge and he let go of me. Turning, he flung my chair out into the middle of the river. It made a surprisingly small splash for such a large, expensive piece of equipment. The moment he turned his back, I began pulling myself across the grass away from him. It was a useless gesture, but I wasn’t going to just sit here obediently and let him kill me. I stopped short when a pair of pink converse came into my field of view. Frantically searching for the face of my rescuer, I looked up and found Cynthia. She ignored me, crossing her arms, and tapping her toe in irritation.
“Viktor, what the hell are you doing?” She didn’t sound angry so much as exasperated. Small matter, his killing me. Since she was ignoring me, I kept crawling, angling myself around her.
Viktor didn’t sound the least bit repentant. “Pete is behaving like a child. He needs to take responsibility for our race, just like the rest of us. Leah babies him because he’s her favorite, but he’s undermining her power.” His voice was petulant. “They tried to use his girlfriend to get to Leah. It’s an embarrassment.” He walked around Cynthia and grabbed me by the scruff of the neck, hauling me up to dangle from his extended arm. I was having a hard time staying alert. I think the blood loss was making me woozy.
Cynthia sighed. “You always overdo it Viktor.” She said softly. “You know he refuses to turn anyone against their will. You’ll just be a murderer.”
I didn’t bother to chime in on their argument, too busy trying to get free. Viktor wasn’t convinced by Cynthia’s logic. He shook me for emphasis. “He likes this one. He’s f*cking her. He’ll be happy to keep her.” Cynthia sighed in exasperation and Viktor continued. “And if he doesn’t, then at least he’ll be punished.” His voice took on a strange note. “I’m willing to murder for Leah. She’s the only reason we can be together.”
He had let his arm sag a little while he argued with Cynthia. I used his distraction to snake out an arm and make a grab for him, my hand curled into a claw. I managed to grab something soft, and I twisted viciously. He yelped in surprise and dropped me. I hit the ground with a moan. I couldn’t even try to crawl away this time; I was too weak. Everything was going dark around the edges, even the fuzzy glow of the streetlights.
Cynthia laughed dryly. “Well if you’re doing this, you need to hurry up and let him in on it. You have no ability to plan. She’s going to die before he gets here.” She tossed a glance my way. “Blood loss alone is too easy to fix. Make sure he doesn’t have a choice.” She pulled out a cell phone as Viktor scooped me up once more. “Sorry sweetheart,” he said seriously. “I won’t break anything until you pass out.” I flailed weakly. Oh good.
“We’re at the park,” Cynthia said flatly. “You’d better hurry. Viktor is getting a little carried away.” She flipped the phone shut and eyed me with interest. “I like your spirit,” she said, matter of fact. “Most humans would be screaming and crying right now.” I did scream then, which made black spots dance across my vision.
Viktor let me slump, but kept a hold on my right arm. He stretched it painfully, almost pulling me upright again as he sank his teeth into the vulnerable spot at the inside of my elbow. I struggled weakly, fighting not to let the numbness overtake my fury. They were using me to punish Peter. And there was nothing I could do about it. I thought of how he would feel, finding my lifeless body in the park where we had eaten lunch together. I couldn’t spare him that. I was too weak, too useless.
No matter how hard I fought to stay conscious, I slowly lost the ability to struggle. Things were sliding out of focus. Each time he pulled at my arm, my heart pulsed painfully. God damn it. Futile tears slid like ice down my cheeks. All of the shit I had been through, only to die like this. I wanted to be filled with rage, but instead I was starting to feel all peaceful. There was a light scuffing of shoes on the sidewalk to our left. Peter probably. It was right about then that I passed out.
I don’t know how long I was out, but I woke up when Viktor broke my back. I came to a screaming alertness. Somewhere in the fog of pain, I realized there were worse things than terrible motor control. Like, say, complete paralysis for example. I couldn’t feel my legs. I couldn’t feel much of anything with any certainty, but I had absolutely no sense of even having legs. I heard Peter nearby, his voice low and deadly. It was his vampire voice. I was in and out of consciousness for I don’t know how long. Events around me came and went like flashes, as I missed out on big chunks of time. At one point there was shouting and fighting. At another, there was fervent pleading. And then it was quiet and I was lying with my head in Peter’s lap.
“I’m so sorry Melody,” he whispered into the darkness. I wanted to see his face, but my eyes didn’t seem to be working right. He cradled my limp body in his arms as he bit me. I was dimly confused. Viktor was killing me. Why was Peter killing me? Then I was gone.
*****
I woke up in a panic, threw off the clinging blankets, and flung myself out of bed without thought. I was being attacked! Where was Viktor? I squinted in the bright light, and my eyes watered and burned. I took a deep breath, smelling dryer sheets and linen, and a hint of masculine cologne. The room was empty, and I relaxed a bit. Then I froze in sudden shock as I realized that I was standing six feet from where I’d been sleeping…and I’d gotten here under my own power. My legs felt week, and I was already feeling tired, but I had flung myself out of bed and across the room without hesitation. I lifted my hands and studied them in the bright light that suffused the room. Not a scratch. My palms had been shredded when I fell on the sidewalk, as I was fighting Viktor. I’m pretty sure he had broken my body like dry twigs. Had I dreamed that?
I made my way across the room with the shaky steps of a newborn fawn, and plopped down onto the edge of the bed. The room was too bright, though there was no light on and the curtains were pulled against the sun. I had no idea where I was. The place was filled with expensive, masculine furniture in deep, soothing tones. Not my bedroom. Not a room I had ever seen before. A tear leaked from my eye and I wiped it away, wondering absently why I was crying. There was a creaking sound and the shush of sliding fabric that I distantly identified as the sound of someone shifting in their chair. It was unbelievably loud. I shook my head in denial. No. I couldn’t be.
I called up the vague memories of Viktor and Cynthia’s argument. Viktor had said I would thank him for hurting me because he knew Peter wouldn’t let me die. I pushed up off the bed, heading for an open door that led into a bathroom. I walked there. It was slow, and I still felt weak. But I could walk.
I flipped on the light without thinking, gasping in pain as it flared to life like a floodlight, temporarily blinding me. Swearing, I turned it off. The person in the other room must have heard me, because hurried footsteps were headed this way. I made my way to the mirror over the sink. Taking a deep breath, I lifted my head and studied my reflection. I could see myself just fine without the light.
I was wearing an unfamiliar t-shirt that hung to mid-thigh. I lifted the hem to find a pair of lacy underwear I had never seen before. Someone had obviously cleaned me up and dressed me. My hair hung over one shoulder in a thick braid. I certainly couldn’t braid my own hair, so someone else must have done that too. Well, I thought, giddy, I could probably braid my own hair now. I clutched the edge of the sink and fought a wave of dizziness.
Someone had entered the room and was standing in the threshold watching me. I didn’t look to see who it was. I couldn’t look away from the mirror. I stared at myself with wide, liquid silver eyes. The face that stared back was thinner. I obviously hadn’t eaten in a while. My skin had always been rather pale, but now it had a luminosity to it. It almost glowed. It all sank in, and a pulse of adrenaline shook me. The sudden emotion made my fangs thrust out from my gums.
The man in the doorway came to stand behind me as I reached up and hesitantly touched my shiny new teeth. They were sharper than I realized, and I jumped as I pricked my finger. I stared at the injured digit as it slowly healed, leaving a dark drop of blood on the tip. I met Peter’s eyes in the mirror. They had gone all silvery. He was probably a little stressed out too.
He slowly stepped forward and slipped an arm around my waist, pulling me back against him. He grasped my wrist with the other hand, brining my once injured finger to his mouth. He gently licked the drop of blood off and I shivered. I was thirsty. Like I hadn’t had water in years thirsty. I could see the tiny blue veins tracing just beneath the surface of the skin on Peter’s hand and it made my teeth ache. I closed my eyes to shut it out. The need to drink was painful, but exciting- achingly so.
Peter stooped and lifted me up in one fluid motion. He carried me to the bed just as he had so many times before. He sat against the headboard and arranged me in his lap. Then, still not speaking, he pulled my head to his neck. I hesitated, breathing him in. It was what I needed, but I had never done this before. I didn’t know where to bite, or how to feed. He slipped his hand up to cradle the back of my neck and tilted his head to the side in invitation. “It’s okay,” he breathed. “You won’t hurt me.”
I took a deep breath and bit him. It was easy. My teeth were so sharp I barely had to put any pressure behind it. His blood filled my mouth and I swallowed reflexively, relaxing as I found that this new body knew what to do. With his blood, I lost the clinging-to-the-edge sort of tension I had been feeling since I woke up. I felt like I could almost see his aura. A warm rush of pleasure rippled over my body and Peter sighed. I shifted, pressing closer to him as he ran his hands over my body, caressing and comforting. Finally, I lifted my head with a little gasp, severing myself from that sense of him that was humming over my skin.
My t-shirt had rucked up and I was half straddling him. I felt like I should be blushing- only, I didn’t think I could do that anymore. Peter pressed his forehead to mine and closed his eyes. His grip on my hips was strong and possessive.
“Melody,” his voice was that rippling woodwind sound that told me he was struggling with his own hunger. “Oh God Melody you must hate me…but I want you so badly.”
“I don’t hate you.” It was the first time I had spoken since I woke up. My voice sounded foreign to my ears, filled with depth and beauty. His hair was a mess, and I thought he must have been pretty upset to be raking his hands through it so much. I tangled my fingers in the silky waves and lifted his head. Seeing the emotion in my eyes, he met my lips fiercely. His tongue plunged into my mouth and I shifted my weight to press against him through his clothes.
He leaned back and pulled the t-shirt off over my head. Then his hot mouth found my breasts and I moaned in pleasure. We were the same temperature now, his touch no longer cold. I rocked against him, feeling him pressed against me through our thin layers of clothing. Just that much was enough, and orgasm washed over me, more intense than I had ever felt. Peter gasped and lifted his head, feeling the echo of my pleasure through our blood connection. We shed the rest of our clothes and he reclined against the headboard again, pulling me on top. He pulled me down hard, sheathing himself deep inside me with a satisfied groan. I laughed softly as I realized I didn’t need his help to carry the rhythm this time. I took him deep while he nuzzled my neck, planting soft kisses there.
“Please,” he said softly. “Please. I promise I won’t take much, but please let me taste you.” His voice was filled with a barely restrained urgency that lit through me like fire. I nodded assent and he sank his fangs deep into my neck as he lifted his hips to press inside me. The pleasure doubled and we both cried out together.
We spent the rest of the day getting used to each other again. I was the same person I had always been, and yet I wasn’t. Peter was careful of me. He seemed hesitant, even after our uh… reunion.
I helped him make breakfast, thrilled at the chance to move about freely, even if I did tire easily. I jokingly juggled the eggs, catching them just before they hit the floor. Peter smiled in response to my exuberance, but his eyes looked sad.
Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore. I stopped flipping the pancakes into the air and set the frying pan down. “Do you wish you hadn’t saved me?” I forced myself to meet his eyes, searching for emotion in those deep green pools.
He was silent for a moment. Then he moved to take the frying pan, sliding the pancake onto a plate. “You sure you still want these?” He asked lightly. “I’m telling you, they won’t taste the same.”
I shrugged. “It’s breakfast time, and I want to eat breakfast.” Taking the plate, I drizzled syrup onto the warm, golden circle of heaven. “Are you going to answer my question?”
He sighed. “Of course I don’t wish that. It’s just…well, aren’t you angry?”
I shook my head and stuffed a bite of pancake into my mouth. Peter watched with a raised eyebrow. My joy died and I hastily spit out the soft dough. “Oh God….” Now I knew what he meant. The pancake didn’t taste like a pancake. It tasted like eggs, baking powder, and flour. I reached for a glass of orange juice to rinse out my mouth. The juice didn’t taste like juice either, but it wasn’t bad. It just tasted like oranges, water, and sunshine.
I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and Peter smothered a smile. “I did warn you.”
I shrugged. “Why would I be angry? It’s not your fault your coven mates are ruthless a*sholes.”
He snorted. “True.” Taking my plate, he scraped the pancake into the trash. He handed me an apple. “Try this.” He levered himself up to sit next to me on the island. “I almost let you die,” he said seriously. I glanced at him in surprise and he shrugged. “By turning you, I risked trapping you in an immortal body that was inferior to the rest of our kind. You could end up being targeted if you are weak…we’re kind of like animals that way.”
I bit into the apple. It was sweet and crisp. The crunch was amazing. “Well,” I said slowly. “I suppose I might be pissed if I was permanently crippled…but then again, I’m used to being weak and different.” I bumped my shoulder into his. “It turned out fine. I’m not angry.” I sighed, losing my playful mood. “I’m sorry to be a burden. I know you didn’t want a … child.”
He ruffled my hair affectionately. “I’m happy to have you by my side.”
I batted his hand away and regarded him seriously. “What was it,” I said curiously. “You said you almost let me go… why did you change your mind?”
He looked down at his hands. “It’s hard to explain. You are so strong- I thought maybe you would want to survive, no matter what.” He shrugged. “It’s what you’ve been doing for years. Surviving.”
I laughed. He was right. Being stubborn and bull-headed had gotten me a long way in life. Peter met my eyes. “Besides,” he said lightly, “I’ve been lonely.” I didn’t think he was joking.