by A. L. Singer
There on the nightstand beside me were the roses Sorin had picked and brought to my room the night before. I pictured their thorns. Not words but blood would provoke him. I looked away from the dresser, trying to keep my intentions hidden. I looked at the floor and then up to Sorin’s face. His eyes were so vivid in color that I could tell he was trying to figure something out. I wondered if I could trick him somehow. Maybe if I tried to think about one thing but really felt something else. Would it disguise my true intent?
I said the first thing I thought of. “Where were you? … When I woke up you weren’t here.” I tried to sound either hurt or curious. I wasn’t sure which came across.
He stood perfectly still, not moving a muscle. “I was outside … getting some fresh air and making a few phone calls.” Nothing changed in his eyes, and his arms stayed crossed over his chest. It wasn’t working. “I did not want to wake you, so I stepped outside. I had no idea you were going to awake so abruptly, Mia.” His tone was flat; he was still on alert, not trusting that I wasn’t up to something.
I didn’t miss the apology at the end. A part of me cringed. Even now, after I’d yelled at him and he knew that I was still scheming—“up to no good,” as he’d put it. And yet, he still felt sorry for not being there for me when I woke up distraught. I was not to be deterred. I thought harder, deciding on my next topic.
I moved back to my side of the bed and sat against the wall. The simple repositioning made Sorin close the space between us. I worried I had given myself away somehow. He stood against the side of the bed, near my feet. He waited, studied me for a minute. Doubt still filled his face.
“Sorin?” I began hesitantly. “Do you have … fangs?” My eyes slowly drifted down to my hands in my lap. I tried to act nervous about asking. But I was really trying to see how close to the vase I had positioned myself. I let my eyes drift up to my elbow. I could see the mix of red and pink flowers out of the corner of my eye. I quickly looked back at him, trying to look interested in the coming answer.
“Yes,” he eventually stated, his voice devoid of any emotion.
Once I had his confirmation, I actually became intrigued. I had considered the possibility but had never seen them. So I’d assumed that it was another vampire feature that books and movies had embellished over the years. He had never given me a real toothy grin, just soft smiles, usually with his lips closed.
“Smile,” I said rather rudely, the sudden confirmation confusing me. He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes; it was more like bearing his teeth for a few seconds. I tried to look closer, but his mouth returned to the tight line it had been before. I felt even more puzzled, certain I hadn’t glimpsed any fangs. “You’re lying,” I accused, folding my arms across my chest.
He didn’t move a muscle, but his expression slowly eased. “Am I?” he challenged, his tone slightly lighter than it had been in the past moments. I had momentarily forgotten what I’d already learned. If he had been lying, I should have had that bitter taste in my mouth that I’d experienced before.
My shoulders fell. No bitter taste; he was telling the truth. “So where are they?” I blurted out. “I mean … I didn’t see them.” I couldn’t help but let a smirk come over my face. “Can I see them?” I pressed, suddenly excited at the thought.
Sorin stepped back, and his eyes circled me. “You are curious about my having fangs. … But why I wonder?” His arms relaxed.
I scrambled for something to say, something that that would make him lower his guard more. I tried to ease the tension in my body so I would seem flippant about it. “You know, a girl shares her bed with a vampire … and she becomes a little worried about certain details. Fangs being one of those concerns.” I shrugged my shoulders and smoothed the sheet out over my lap, hoping it would work.
My heart skipped a beat as he stepped forward and sat on the edge of the bed, near my feet. Sorin finally looked somewhat at home. I wondered if it mattered how close he was when I cut myself with the thorn. It couldn’t hurt to have him closer and then bleed right under his nose. I pulled my legs up and tucked them closer to myself. It worked. He moved closer, and concern seemed to come over him. “Mia, my fangs are nothing for you to be anxious about. I promise they pose no threat to your life.” Sorin’s voice was gentle and full of assurance.
I started to worry that this wouldn’t work, after all. I began to panic inside. It must have showed. “What else?” He asked, placing a hand over mine.
In that moment, I realized he was no longer suspicious of anything. I slowly moved my hand away, so it would be free to pick a rose from the vase. A look of hurt crossed his face, but it passed. “How often?” I asked in a hushed tone. I wasn’t sure how to word my inquiry. I could see he did not understand the question. I tried to make it clearer, but not too blunt. “How often do you … use your fangs?” I couldn’t help but cringe a little. “For their intended purpose?” I hoped my topic of conversation would distract Sorin from what I was about to do.
“My … nutritional requirements are yet another subject you do not need to worry yourself with, Mia.” He relaxed even more, waiting for my response.
I took a deep breath and slowly exhaled, trying to stay calm. I tried to picture myself nonchalantly picking up a rose. Maybe admiring it for a few minutes and then suddenly puncturing my skin with its thorn. If “my color,” as he put it, showed the anxiety I was feeling he misunderstood the reason. But it seemed to be working, so I continued. I started fidgeting with the sheet over my lap. “Maybe I’m not so much worried about your fangs or eating habits as simply curious.” I let my left arm drift to the edge of the bed near the nightstand.
Sorin’s face held a scowl for a minute, but he finally gave in. “What do you want to know, Mia? But, understand, I do not feel this topic is an appropriate one to discuss so soon after. …” His voice trailed off.
Death was all around me; visions of vampires hunting and bloody confrontations filled my mind. I wasn’t bothered by the potential of their being accurate. “I am fine … I’ve just been wondering ever since you told me you were a vampire, that’s all.” I looked down at the bed and tried to act as if I’d just noticed the roses on the table next to me. I started to reach for one and suddenly couldn’t remember which variety had larger thorns. My mother had at least five diverse varieties of roses around the outside of the house. They were different colors, had different fragrances, and had thorns in a range of sizes. At the last minute, I plucked a dark-red rose over the bright-pink one next to it. I simply laid it in my lap and turned my attention back to Sorin. Thankfully, he was still distracted by my interest in his activities as a vampire. “So, how often?” I pressed. I raised the rose to my face and smelled it. My heart skipped a beat, and I had the urge to just squeeze one of the thorns into my palm.
Sorin’s shoulders straightened, and I immediately forced a smile and lowered the rose. “Unless I’ve missed something … it’s not three meals a day.”
His scowl returned briefly. “No … it is not necessary to consume blood daily for my kind to survive.”
He paused, and I slowly moved my fingers over the top of the rose’s petals while cupping it in my other hand. He continued to explain as I half listened. Something about the quality of the blood and the amount could appease a vampire’s thirst for quite a while. I looked at the rose, tilting it to examine the thorns. I let out a small sigh; I’d picked the right rose.
I focused my attention back on Sorin. “So how long has it been for you?” I raised an eyebrow and really wondered about the answer. Maybe it would affect his reaction to what I was about to do. His lips pressed together, and I could see him trying to decide whether to divulge that information. My heart started to beat faster as I considered that maybe it had been so long ago that he had to struggle to even recall it.
“It has been longer than normal for me.” He spoke cautiously.
My pulse increased further, and then I slipped my fingers from the rose petals to the stem. I started to pi
ck out a thorn to puncture my skin with.
Sorin’s face changed. He reached out and cupped the right side of my face in his hand. “Mia … just because it has been an extended time since I fed last does not mean you are in any danger. I can control myself.” His voice was trying to reassure me, only I was optimistic it was a lie. Or at least not completely revealing all the details; I knew I would know if it was lie.
I slipped my left hand under the rose and tilted my wrist up toward it. I leaned my face more into his hand, further distracting him. I kept a few fingers on the thorn I decided to use, lining it up with the softest parts of my other wrist. My heartbeat started pounding in my ears. Sorin released my cheek, and his hand dropped to his lap. Distrust filled his face, and I could tell he saw or sensed something.
I leaned toward him and looked deep into his eyes. “Can you really control yourself, Sorin?” I took a quick breath. “Because I’m guessing it’s just instinct, like that of a shark when it smells blood.” I wished it true as I pressed the thorn into my flesh. I had planned on raking the rose’s thorn all the way from my wrist to my elbow. But no sooner did I feel the tip of the thorn touch my skin than Sorin knew my intention. He tore the rose from my hand, turned on the overhead light, and was beginning to pace along the wall to my right—all before the gasp finished escaping my lips.
I blinked a few times to adjust to the room in full lighting, and the stinging from my hand registered. I looked down and opened my right hand. There were a few thin red lines where the thorns had caught my skin as he tore the rose from my grasp. The cuts were minimal and caused only a faint sting.
I looked back up at Sorin, who continued to walk back and forth from my bedroom doorway to my dresser. He was oblivious to my hand and the thin lines of blood it held. Tears filled my eyes. “But … the blood,” I said to myself, defeated.
Sorin halted, turning to face me. “Enough, Mia!” His voice boomed, and I couldn’t help but jump in response. His face was full of frustration and irritation. He crushed the rose in his hand and let it fall to the floor. He did not bother to refrain or spare my feelings in any way. “Is this what you really want, Mia?” His hands were clenched at his sides. “Is this what your parents would want for you?” The pacing resumed. “You are not the only one hurting, the only one in pain.” Everything Sorin said caused a knot to form in my throat. “I came here days ago, and this house was full of people who absolutely loved and adored your mother and father. Jennifer feels as if she has lost a sister. … But you have not talked to her in days. The moment your mother’s life ended, a part of me was forever lost.” He paused in both stepping and speaking. Sorin slowly lifted a hand to his chest and uncurled his fingers. He turned to face me, and I saw the pain and sorrow in his eyes. “I feel empty too. … I lost a part of myself. … I cannot bear the thought of losing you also. I understand this is overwhelming. You do not want this life anymore—so be it, Mia.” His hand lowered, and he crossed the room to my side, sitting on the edge of the bed and brushing a few loose hairs from my face. “But please consider allowing me to offer you another life, if you are so set on ending this one.”
I could see the desperation on his face and hear it in his voice. He couldn’t imagine the thought of losing even more of himself. I just sat there staring at him, unable to speak. I tried to process the alternative he was proposing. I was increasingly experiencing moments of not wanting to live another day. And yet, here was Sorin, offering to prolong my life. Minutes passed, and my mind still raced. This had been Sorin’s true reason for seeking me out at this time. He’d found me to help me through the tragedy I was experiencing. To ease what pain he could, in turn, lessening the hurt he felt within. But it was that instinct to complete the bond he’d denied himself years ago that drove him—had driven him, all along. What if it wasn’t what I wanted?
He leaned forward and kissed my forehead. “I am sorry, Mia. I have only added to your stress. To suggest that you allow me to turn you. …” He glanced away briefly. “It would not to be in your immediate future, however. You could take some time to consider my offer.” His voice softly drifted off, and I wondered what he wasn’t saying.
“Why not in my immediate future, Sorin?” Not that I wanted this tonight—or even at all—but I wondered, just the same.
His mouth twitched ever so slightly, and he took his time answering. “I am suffering right now, Mia. I am grieving over the loss of your mother.” The desperation returned to his face. “If I were to turn you now—if we were to fully bond while you were in this pain—I honestly do not know if I could endure that. To amplify all of your emotions at the same time as the grief that I feel currently. It would be pure hell … for me and for you. It would only be torture for both of us.” His voice sounded so sad, and yet I still couldn’t totally comprehend being able to physically feel each other’s pain and sorrow.
I said the only thing I could. “I need some time to consider your offer, Sorin. … I’m sure you understand what kind of decision this is.” I tried to say it as gently as possible.
Sorin eventually stood up and left the room. I stayed where I was, staring after him.
Chapter 14
After a few minutes I decided to join Sorin downstairs. I went to the bathroom to freshen up. Stepping on the scale, I discovered I had lost more weight than I thought. I sighed and made my way downstairs, not caring to change out of my nighttime attire. I glanced at the front room when I reached the bottom of the steps, but it was empty. I expected to see him in the kitchen, sitting on a stool and waiting for me. The kitchen was vacant but lit. I passed a few bananas on the counter. They had turned brown, and I tossed them into the trash. I tried to be optimistic that something in the fridge would appeal to me. Everything I picked up was near or past its expiration date. Out of frustration I pulled the trash can from the cupboard and disposed of nearly all the refrigerator’s contents. And then I washed my hands and left the room, carrying a single green apple and a handful of pretzels.
I was beginning to wonder if Sorin was here at all. I walked to the downstairs guest room, just about to enter it, when I caught sight of some movement on the patio. I opened the patio door and stepped out, seeing Sorin. He had moved from the patio where he’d stood a moment before. Now he was a good thirty feet ahead of me, crossing toward the woods. I slumped into a chair, deciding Sorin wanted to be alone. Nibbling from my apple, I waited for him to disappear through the trees. He took another step or two and then sat down in the grass. I ate my handful of pretzels while I continued to watch him.
Leaning back on his elbows, he stretched his legs out in front of him. Sorin looked at the night sky. I looked up too, gazing at the stars speckling the dark blanket of sky behind them. The moon was just a bright sliver off to the side. I reflected on what Sorin had said about the stars, about people’s perceptions. He looked at turning me into a vampire as a new life, a fresh beginning. I thought of it as something just the opposite—worse than death.
A few crickets chirped, and I looked straight ahead. I was no longer hungry and threw the rest of my apple into the rosebushes. Gradually loneliness crept over me, and I wanted to be next to Sorin. I was torn, not knowing if he wanted to be alone. Maybe he was still upset with me. A few more minutes passed, some more cricket chirps, and I couldn’t take the silence any longer. He was just yards in front of me but not really there. I could tell even from a distance that his mind was elsewhere.
I cleared my throat, and Sorin sat up but continued to look straight ahead. “I’m sorry,” I said, my voice just above a whisper. I hoped he heard me and knew I had meant it. He didn’t move. I leaned forward in the chair, watching for something, any sign that he accepted my apology. My stomach started to knot up. “I don’t know what else to say.” My voice cracked a little, and then I saw movement. His right arm stretched out, and his hand ran over the ground beside him. I stood up and started toward Sorin, but then I stopped on the last step and sat down. What if I’d misunderstood the gesture? Maybe
I wanted to join him so much that I was reading into things. I didn’t want to look foolish if I was wrong. My eyes started to tear up. I felt frustrated with everything.
On top of the waves of pain and grief over my parents’ deaths I was starting to feel this urge to be near Sorin. I wanted to hear his voice, inhale his scent, and feel his presence near me. I was slowly becoming needy when it came to him. This man before me whom I had known less than a week. A few tears fell down my cheek, and I wiped them away. I squeezed my eyes shut. Without thinking, I mumbled to myself, “This isn’t right.” I sniffed as my nose started to tingle in response to my tears.
“What vexes you, Mia?” Sorin’s voice was right above me, and I only jumped slightly at his sudden presence.
I opened my eyes and looked up at him towering over me. I didn’t fight the small smile I felt forming. “Vexes?” I teased. “Wow … I don’t think I have ever heard a person use that word in my whole twenty-three years of life.” He offered his hand to help me up from the step. “No … I think I heard it used in a movie once.” I was gently teasing. His forehead showed a few wrinkles as he scowled, pulling me to my feet. “You do use a lot of words that—” I paused, searching for the correct words. “That most people don’t use on a daily basis.” I turned and headed inside.
“It will pass,” he said casually.
I heard the door slide shut behind me and turned back to face him. “What to do you mean?” I asked, honestly confused.
“The vocabulary … the accent … it all will change, fade away.” He said it with a shrug, and I leaned against the wall beside me, crossing my arms.