Original Sin (The Order of Vampires Book 1)

by Lydia Michaels

  “How many are there?”

  “There are approximately two hundred of us here.”

  “And other places?”

  “I do not know. We only associate with our order. Even with the Elders’ meticulous record keeping, outsiders would be impossible to track. Our kind has always existed in secret and mastered the art of cloaking our existence, even to our own.”

  “Why?”

  “Because the world is a dangerous place.”

  She rubbed a hand over her forehead and staggered to the bed. “I need to sit down.”

  This time he took the chair and she appreciated him offering her some space. “We share more similarities than differences.”

  “But we are different, Adam.”

  “If you stayed, I would make you like me.”

  Her head snapped up. “You can do that?”

  “Only when the circumstances are right. Ours are, but we only have a limited time to decide.”

  “Or you die.” She recalled what he’d said about surrendering his life to the Council. “Would you die, or would you commit suicide? I’m not following.”

  “I would request execution.”

  “Why?”

  “Because, without you, my humanity will disappear and I’d become something else, something dangerous. I don’t want that to happen.”

  “So you’d choose death?”

  “Yes.”

  And she thought samurais were dedicated. “What do you call yourselves? And don’t say Amish.”

  “We are immortal.”

  “Jesus Christ.”

  “Language.”

  She scowled. “Seriously?” She rolled her eyes. This was a perfectly appropriate time to fucking curse. “What else is different?”

  His hands folded between his knees. If not for his intimidating beauty, he’d look like any other ordinary man.

  “You know about Grace.”

  Her heart stilled in her chest, all her fleeting secrets that openly dashed through her head suddenly open to the world, open to him. “Can you—”

  “No. Grace’s gifts are special. Just like you, we all have unique strengths and weaknesses.”

  “What’s your weakness?” He already outmatched her in so many ways, knowing his Achilles heel might come in handy.

  “Isn’t it obvious?”

  She cocked her head. “Nothing about this is obvious, Adam.”

  He sat back in the chair, the side of his mouth pulling with the hint of a smile, but his eyes remained sad. “My weakness is you.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  It finally began to sink in. His survival really was dependent on her cooperation. And as the truth settled over her, the great weight of responsibility pressed into her shoulders.

  She wouldn’t make any decisions until she had all the facts. “What else?”

  “Speed.”

  She saw that in the field. Her head shook, still unsure how such speed was humanly possible, but he wasn’t human.

  “What else? Tell me all of it.”

  “Our eyes. You have three photoreceptor cells in your eyes. We have more than twenty. This makes us extremely sensitive to light. We can see colors you can’t comprehend, everything from ultraviolet to infrared. We’re nocturnal and don’t require much sleep. Our immune systems are impeccable. And our diet…”

  When his words cut off, she stopped massaging her temples and looked at him. “Your diet?”

  His brow creased. “Are you in pain?”

  “I have a headache. Not that you know what that feels like.”

  “I had a headache once. When I was a boy, a workhorse kicked me in the head, split my skull open.”

  She gaped at him. A blow like that would kill a child. She didn’t know how to respond. “Yeah, sort of like that.”

  “Do you need water?”

  “I’m guessing you don’t have aspirin.”

  “No.”

  She pinched the base of her neck. “It’s just a tension headache. It’ll go away. Keep going.” She slouched in the chair, massaging the base of her skull and shutting her eyes.

  “Our diet…” He paused again. “Are you certain there’s nothing I can do to help?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Your discomfort is distracting me. I can’t focus knowing you’re in pain.”

  “Please, just—” She flinched at the touch of his fingers, her eyes popping open as he replaced her hand with his. She hadn’t heard him move. “What are you doing?”

  He pulled her to him. “Let me help ease your tension. We can continue talking, but I can’t bear your discomfort.”

  He pulled her to the edge of the bed, insisting she sit. She needed space, but as his fingers dug into the knots of tension tightening her shoulders and neck, she figured a short massage wouldn’t hurt.

  “Wow. You’re really good at that.” No wonder he could carve such lifelike miniatures. His hands were magic. The pulsing ache in her head immediately lessened. “You were saying?”

  “There’s a reason I can speak freely with you, Annalise. We don’t share these secrets easily and it is against our laws to expose differences to the outside world.”

  “Will you be punished for telling me?”

  “No. You and I share the one circumstance that permits us to speak openly and honestly.”

  “Because I’m your cosmic cure.”

  He chuckled. “Yes, my cosmic cure. Together, we share a destiny. Apart, we are lost.”

  Her head lulled as his thumbs worked the notches of her spine, turning her muscles into putty. “So you’re not really sick, per se, you’re just in danger of dying.”

  “My soul is sick. First it will attack my mind and then my physical needs will change.”

  “How?”

  “It’s complicated and I’d end it before it went that far.”

  “But your people can’t really get sick, can they? I mean, if you have these incredible immune systems, you can’t catch the common cold or get cancer.”

  “No.”

  “What about gunshots? Fires?”

  “Superficial injuries.”

  “Then how do you die?”

  His hands stilled. “There are ways. That knowledge is sacred.”

  “But you’re allowed to tell me.”

  “Why do you want to know?”

  She glanced over her shoulder to look into his eyes. Her breath caught. “You don’t trust me.”

  “I have no choice but to trust you.”

  “But not with this. This you’re holding back.” As hypocritical as it might be, his lack of trust stung.

  He drew in a breath and let it out with a huff. “To kill our kind—”

  “Forget it.” She held up a hand and scooted away from him, turning her back to the door. “If you can’t freely trust me with your secrets, I don’t want them.”

  “You’re asking me for information that puts me in an extremely vulnerable position.”

  Again, she gaped at him. “Maybe you missed that I’m human. While you can go Sweeney Todd on yourself and bounce back in no time, I’m totally breakable. God, you don’t even realize how lucky you are. Everyone you know and love will always be here. You have no clue what real vulnerability is.”

  “Anna, I’m so sorry you lost your mother. I feel your pain and it guts me. But I do know what vulnerability is. My life was peaceful and content eight weeks ago. Then the dreams started. Now my entire existence rests in your hands, and as much as I want to live, I’d die a thousand deaths to protect you from the slightest pain.”

  His hand pressed to his chest, fingers splayed wide. “I feel emotions deeper than anyone should, emotions that aren’t mine, sometimes from hosts miles away.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Gracie has the gift of telepathy. But I have the curse of empathy. I’ve been an empath since birth. It started with Cain and then my parents. The older I got the more I felt. My life experience might not be equal to yours, but I assur
e you that I know the anguish of heartbreak, the grief of losing a child, the fear, and the joy of falling in love. But more than anything, I’ve felt the injustice of suffering. I not only swallow my pain, but the pain of everyone around me.”

  His chest heaved as his face pinched with tightness. If that was true, she didn’t know how he managed to live around anyone at all.

  “How can you stand that?” she asked, truly wondering how anyone could tolerate such a burden.

  And Grace… Anna envied her perceptiveness, thinking it such a gift. But if she couldn’t shut it off, how could she concentrate on her own thoughts.

  “I enjoy solitary activities and prefer to work alone. I’ve found ways to avoid overwhelming myself, but sometimes, like when I came to find you, it can get debilitating. I don’t think I’ll ever return to the city if I can avoid it.”

  “Can you feel what I’m feeling now?”

  He shut his eyes, his face angling toward the ceiling. “Sympathetic, anxious, tense, suspicious.” His head tipped to the side as he furrowed his brows. “And valued.” His eyes opened. “How was that?”

  Spot on. She shrugged. “Anyone could have guessed—”

  “But you know I wasn’t guessing. Otherwise I would have sensed your distrust.” He smiled. “Progress.”

  “Don’t look so cocky. I haven’t agreed to help you.”

  “But you’re listening now. Before you only heard words. Now, you’re grasping the bigger meaning.”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah.” She’d always been a victim of getting sucked into the National Geographic shows, too. That didn’t mean she was going to run out and save the first antelope in trouble. “How long do I have to decide? You said I could go home in a few days.”

  He looked away.

  “Adam, you said I could leave.”

  “And I meant it. I’ll not hold you here against your will. But I had hoped…” He looked at her, once again, eyes pleading. “I had hoped you’d decide to stay.”

  “I have a life—”

  “I’d give you a better one.”

  She frowned. “I’m not Amish.”

  “There would be an adjustment period.”

  “Adam, I’ll never be Amish.”

  “So long as you followed the rules and tried to fit in—”

  “Which rules? Every woman here works in the home. I want a career. I want my clothes and music and hot water.”

  “I can build you a water heater from a woodstove.”

  “That’s not the same! What about driving, and Netflix, and my friends? I think all the other stuff is sort of cool, but there’s no way I could give up all my creature comforts.” Although, it was sort of nice not having to check her phone for notifications every hour.

  He scooted closer and gathered her hands in his. “Anna, I know you had a plan, but this is the path you’re meant to follow. I was meant to find you. Our lives were designed to intertwine. I would break all the laws of the Ordnung if it meant convincing you to stay. You could practice medicine here.”

  “You don’t get sick!” She let out a frustrated huff. “That’s not what I do anyway.”

  He frowned. “But your schooling…”

  “I’m a medical assistant—and not even that until I pass my finals, which I’m missing to be here. But I would do billing and administrative work. I’m far from becoming a doctor.”

  “Billing? You take money from people who need medical attention? This gratifies you?”

  “Well, no, but I like working in the medical field. It’s a good profession and maybe over time, once I started making more money, I could become a nurse practitioner or something better.”

  “What does a nurse practitioner do?”

  Being that he’d never required a doctor, it made sense he didn’t know these things. “They can read lab tests and diagnose illnesses. They can do a lot and work in emergency care, or intensive care units, or even maternity wards.”

  “Maternity?”

  She lifted a shoulder. “Yeah.”

  “And this is what you’re passionate about?”

  Well, at the moment she was passionate about making a living. “It’s a lot of work.”

  “But you enjoy learning.”

  She nodded. “It’s interesting. I’d love to look at your blood under a microscope, but you said that’s a no-no. I just like helping people and I find biology fascinating.”

  He smiled. “You could continue learning and be a midwife. We don’t have one and the women are often suggesting we find one. My mother…” His eyes shifted, clouding with emotion as his brow tightened. “She’s lost several babes. The Elders have no explanation for her condition. It’s uncommon, and if you could somehow help her…” He visibly swallowed. “I know she and my father would appreciate it. As would I.”

  She wished she could help him. “I’m sorry, Adam. My training’s not that advanced. I know how to take vital signs and read charts, but I’m not a doctor.”

  “While Amish orders don’t typically endorse education beyond eighth grade, there are always exceptions. There are Mennonite colleges. I could petition the Council and explain that you feel called to this field. Perhaps this was God’s will—”

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa.” She held up her hands. “You’re assuming too much and going way too fast. We haven’t even known each other a week.”

  His head lowered. “I’d make you a good husband, Annalise. The first time I saw you, you were surrounded by a roomful of people, yet I sensed your loneliness. I would never abandon you. It would be my honor to spend eternity falling in love with you. I’d protect you, your heart, your soul, and God willing, I’d protect the lives of the children we create together.”

  She needed air. Or water. Clearing her throat she looked away.

  “I sense your weariness with the world, ainsicht.”

  A lump formed in her throat and a tear rolled down her cheek. “That’s not fair. I’ve just been in a rut lately.”

  His hand closed over hers. “What if everything you mistook for misfortune proved to actually to be a blessing? How many complications would this actually create in your life? You would have a family, a devoted husband to adore the ground you walk on, a home, security, and I’d see that you were able to practice your medicine in a way that’s fulfilling and gratifying to your soul.”

  Her chin wobbled as he dangled so many illusive promises in front of her. “How would it happen?”

  “The bonding?”

  She nodded, knowing her curiosity might very well be the death of her—literally.

  “First there is a ceremony, much like a wedding. Then we go somewhere private and complete the ritual.”

  The ritual… The bonding… “But what happens? What is bonding?”

  He hesitated and she realized this so-called bonding might not be as pleasant as they made it sound. “It’s a blood exchange.”

  “I’m guessing that private place you mentioned isn’t a sterile room.”

  His jaw ticked. “It would happen in a bed. Our bodies would come together like man and wife, and we would complete a blood ritual.”

  Her legs itched to stand, possibly bolt through the door. She forced herself to take a deep breath. Some villages sacrificed goats, this one performed blood bonds during sex. “And then what happens?”

  “You rest.”

  “We swap blood and I just go to sleep?”

  “The transfusion will tire your body. There’s no pain. It’s very peaceful.”

  She scoffed. “How do you know? Have you done it?”

  His mouth opened and he conceded. “I’m told there’s no pain.”

  “But you don’t know for sure?”

  “No. I was born as I am now. Only our called mates from different… backgrounds…” His words faded, as he seemed to struggle to find an elegant way around the truth. “When my blood mixes with yours, your cells will die off, and mine will regenerate inside of you.”

  She preferred the facts. This was sort of like T-cel
l therapy for cancer patients. “What’s the success rate?”

  “With called mates? Elke keer. Failure isn’t possible.”

  Her shoulders lifted on a silent laugh. “Anything’s possible.”

  “You take an optimistic position on failure but nothing else?”

  “What do you expect? You’ve just blown my entire perception of life and death wide open,” she argued. “Pardon me if I’m reluctant to trust any more absolutes at the moment—especially when it’s my survival in question.”

  “And mine.”

  She frowned. “But if I do this you’d live, right?”

  “Yes, but should anything happen to you, I would choose to follow you. Bonded mates do not do well apart.”

  She drew in a long breath and sat back. “But no one’s died?”

  “No. It’s a ritual that dates back to the first civilization.”

  Her jaw unhinged. “You guys have been around that long?”

  “Our records date back to the third millennium—BC.”

  “Shut. Up.”

  He grinned. “Who do you think carried the heavy stones to the top of the pyramids?”

  “Holy crap.”

  “Language, ainsicht.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Crap is not a bad word, Adam.”

  Her mind spun like a top, her uncertainty transforming into an almost morbid curiosity. “Okay, so there’s a ceremony, then the union.” Her attention jumped to his face. “You mean sex, right?”

  He nodded. “We would make love as husband and wife.”

  “Then a transfusion.” They probably had some primitive technology available to assist with that resembled the equipment used in the sixteen hundreds. That was long before the discovery of anesthesia and antisepsis. “Would I get a pain killer?”

  “You wouldn’t have any pain. The process is said to be the opposite of pain.”

  She frowned. “You’re telling me it’s pleasant.”

  He swallowed, nodding slowly, his eyes staring into her. “Very.”

  Her insides fluttered, drawing her attention to her body and causing her to shift her weight. Her thighs pressed together under her dress and his nostrils flared.

  “You understand,” he rasped.

  Her lips parted as she tried to think of a coy response, but she could only focus on the way he now stared at her. “Why are you looking at me like that?”