The Dark Rising

by Lacey Weatherford

  It all made sense now. He had been able to perform the demon kiss on his father. His withdrawals had quit after that. Those powers must have fed the cravings, stopping the reactions he'd been having.

  Douglas and Fiona had been feeding him blood through the champagne on our honeymoon. Then Douglas had drunk Vance’s blood at the ritual, right before Vance attacked and drank his.

  The blood exchange had been made, and the process started all over. The Awakening must have helped to regenerate the conversion right along with the cellular repair.

  I refused to lose him again. Not this way. To know he was alive, but that he was evil? I couldn’t bear it.

  He was immortal, the demon conversion fixed into his cell structure. There would be no way to cure him.

  The tears began to well in my eyes.

  I sat there, in still silence, while I watched the ice shard I had shoved through him began to work its way backward, out of his body the same direction it had gone in. Soon it fell out onto the floor with a clunk, and the hole in his chest started to rapidly close.

  I wasn’t scared of him. After all, I was immortal too, though not nearly as powerful. But I was afraid for him, for us, for our future and what this would mean.

  His eyes registered consciousness then, and I heard him suck in a breath of air. He lay there for a moment before he made a move to sit up.

  Once he was sitting, he slid away from me, until he was able to lean up against the wall opposite me.

  I stared into his demon transformed face while he looked at me, realizing even now, he was still the most handsome man I had ever seen. I loved him, in spite of everything.

  I shuffled through his mind and I could tell he was temporarily weakened from blood loss.

  “When did you first know?” I asked him point blank.

  He stared at me with his glowing eyes for a moment before he answered me.

  “I was sure when your grandma pricked her finger,” he spoke, in a slightly raspy voice.

  “What do you mean, sure?”

  “I noticed something stirring earlier, the first time I kissed your neck, though I didn't know at the time what it was.”

  I remembered now, him sucking so hard on me I knew it would leave a mark, and it had. That had been before I had given him the memories.

  “Why didn’t you say something?” I asked, feeling angry with him.

  “I thought I could control it,” he said with a shrug, “Once I had seen the things in your memory. He … I'd controlled it before. I figured this must be the same thing.”

  I couldn’t fault him with that. He wouldn’t have experienced the prior feelings and cravings he'd had. He only witnessed them from my point of view. There was no way he could have told the difference in his desires.

  “So what do we do now?” I asked him.

  “About what?”

  “What do you think? You're a demon!” I shouted at him louder than I had intended, my frustration getting the better of me.

  I stood up and began pacing in my corner of the room.

  “Why does that have to change anything?” he questioned me.

  I stopped to look at him, my jaw dropping a little.

  “Well, for one, you and I are now at complete opposite ends of the spectrum here. We're basically sworn enemies. I can’t let you wander around, feeding on every helpless witch or warlock you might encounter.”

  He slowly got to his feet, before leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest.

  “You couldn’t stop me if you tried,” he countered, with a sardonic grin.

  “What?” I questioned, quickly realizing he must be experiencing the mental changes that came with the blood lust.

  I also knew he was right.

  He pushed away from the wall then, walking toward me, and I stood my ground as he crossed over.

  “You can’t stop me,” he said again, and he shoved me roughly up against the wall.

  “Really?” I returned, placing my hand over his chest where the gaping hole had been only minutes ago. “I already killed you once today.”

  “Yeah,” he said and he reached out to run one of his hands over my hair. “Ironic though, isn’t it? I’ve been dead twice now in the last twenty-four hours, yet here I stand, right in front of you, alive and well.”

  He reached down and grabbed both of my wrists in his strong hands, pulling them out as far away from my body as possible, pinning them to the wall behind me.

  I realized then, I was his next intended victim, and I flicked my fingertips out at the tablecloth that held the wrapped athames. The weapons ripped out of the cloth, heading straight for his back.

  I didn’t see, or even feel, him flinch a muscle, but the knives hit some sort of unseen barrier, and clattered to the floor.

  A low, sound of quiet rumbling laughter welled up from inside him.

  “Oh, Portia,” he said and his eyes traveled over my face in anticipation. “When are you going to realize? You're no match for me.”

  He dipped his head in and I screamed out when his teeth ripped through my tender flesh at my neck. I started calling all the items in the room to assault him, to no avail. He deflected every single thing while he drank my blood with relish.

  My strength was quickly leaving my body and soon I sagged weakly against the wall.

  He released my hands, grabbing me up around the waist with one arm and holding my throat to his mouth with the other. I flopped like a rag doll in his embrace.

  I knew I was going to die this time, even though I knew I would come back. I could read plainly into his head. He intended to drink every drop.

  And he did so, with relish.

  Chapter 8

  Someone was calling out to me from the distance. I tried to grasp on to that sound, but everything was so foggy.

  “Portia,” the voice called to me again. “If you can hear me, open your eyes.”

  I fought to lift my heavy eyelids, trying to do as the familiar voice was instructing me. When I finally succeeded, Krista’s concerned face slowly came into focus.

  “You shouldn’t be here,” I whispered, my mind flitting back over the images of Vance attacking me.

  Krista waved her hand in dismissal.

  “I’m not magical anymore. He won't be interested in me. Besides, he left a while ago,” she replied, gazing at me with a worried look.

  “Where'd he go?” My eyes flickered around the room.

  “I have no idea,” she said, shaking her head. “I stayed in the car so I could watch the house from down the street. He ran out and took off on his motorcycle.” She reached out to me. “Do you think you can sit up now? You've been out for several hours.”

  "Why so long?" I wondered out loud. "Vance recovered in less than an hour after I attacked him."

  Krista shrugged. "It's part of his demon anatomy I would guess. Unfortunately, demons are stronger than regular witches. Add that to the other powers he's assimilated and you have one heck of a warlock. He'll be hard to stop."

  I accepted her outstretched hand, and she pulled me up, helping to lean me up against the wall.

  “Did everyone else get away all right?” I asked. I was extremely weak, and the room spun out of control in my vision.

  “Yes. Your dad was sending them to an undisclosed location,” she answered, and I closed my eyes for a few seconds.

  “You should've gone with them,” I said, looking at her after the wave of dizziness had passed.

  “I thought you would need me most right now,” she replied with sympathy written on her face. “I've lived with demons for a long time. I know more about them than anybody here does.”

  I realized she was right, and her wealth of knowledge would be useful to me.

  “So now what happens?” I questioned, trying to wrap my head around everything. “Is he lost to us forever?”

  She shrugged her shoulders.

  “It depends on how he handles things,” she replied to me honestly, for which I was gratef
ul since now was not the time for sugar coating.

  “What do you mean?” I asked, having to concentrate to keep myself focused. Fatigue was sinking deep into my bones. I just wanted to sleep.

  “Well, he's new to the conversion. He'll start going through some crazy cravings. It'll kind of be like he's on drugs. When the bloodlust is in control, he'll be awful. He will say and do hurtful things to anyone or anything he feels like reacting to. After he feeds, he'll go into a sort of remission. He'll be sorry, almost apologetic, and he'll swear he'll never do it again. Then he'll begin to get antsy when the cravings start to come, until he is overcome by the bloodlust. Then he will become the hunter once more.”

  “There isn’t anything we can do for him?” I asked, wishing for some sort of a miracle.

  She shook her head. “No, it's up to him. Most demons go crazy during these first days of bloodlust. They become completely consumed, having no self-control what-so-ever. They lose themselves to the addiction, attacking and killing any magical thing they can get their hands on.”

  “And the ones who don’t?”

  “They are extremely refined, like Damien, Douglas or Fiona. They rise above the addiction and use it to their advantage. That isn’t necessarily a good thing though. Those individuals are very cunning, sometimes twice as bad as their counterpart.”

  “How do they control the bloodlust?” I questioned her.

  “They're always drinking,” she answered. “They put the blood in their food, their beverages, or they take it plain. The feed is almost constant, and they absorb little bits at a time, which staves off the rage that overtakes them otherwise. It's comparable to a drug user who is on an I.V. drip. They are constantly supplied, so it allows them to think clearer, in an evil mentality that is.”

  “That’s just great!” I said in quiet exasperation, rubbing at my temples. “So I'm married to either a stark raving lunatic, or the cunning devil himself … absolutely wonderful.”

  “I’m sorry, Portia,” Krista replied, reaching out to grasp my hand. “I do understand how you feel.”

  She did know, I realized. She had done this with her husband’s family and now her son. I suddenly felt a lot sympathy and compassion for this woman and what she'd been through in her life. I leaned forward to wrap my arms around her in an attempt to return the comfort she was trying to give me. We hugged each other for several moments in silence, before she pulled away to stare at me again.

  “I need to warn you of something,” she said, with a sorrowful look which told she was about to add to my burden.

  “Okay,” I replied, trying to shore myself up for whatever blow she was going to drop on me.

  “He's going to come for you. He will always come for you,” she said, watching my face. “Demons are drawn to the powers of their victims. Each time they hunt they'll try to find someone more powerful than their last victim was. Your magic's stronger than anyone’s except for his own. He'll not be able to drink from anyone else now, besides you, and get satisfied. Because of that, you will be his priority feed.”

  “So you're saying since I’m immortal and can’t be converted into a demon myself or die, I'll just be his self-replenishing blood bank?” I asked, a bit sick at the thought.

  “Something like that,” she agreed, looking sorrowful.

  I ran my fingers weakly through my hair. I didn’t know what to do.

  “You could run,” she suggested, reading my expression. “He will follow you though.”

  “Run to where?” I replied, elevating my voice a little in frustration. “Who's out there that would be able help me with any of this? And I can’t even be protected from him with charms or spells because he is a member of my coven. Our combined magic won’t work against him.”

  “What about trying to contain him somehow?”

  I snorted. “We barely contained him after the first blood exchange he had. The strength of his powers has gone through the roof since then.”

  Krista pondered things for a minute.

  “Well, there's only one other suggestion I can think of,” she said, eyeing me carefully.

  “Which is?”

  “Give him what he wants,” she spoke flatly.

  “What?” I questioned, wondering if she had lost her mind.

  “The two of you are bound together. He wants you in more ways than one. Even though he doesn’t remember things, he still loves you. Maybe your love is what will guide him through this.”

  I thought about this suggestion hard. I loved Vance more than anything in this world and I wanted to be with him forever. I just never considered doing so might consist of the rape of my soul. I'd be subjected to his every whim, desire, and threat. He could hurt me over and over again and I wouldn't ever be able to do anything about it.

  On the other hand, if I walked away from him right now, there would be no hope for him at all.

  “What if he doesn’t want me? He might only be thinking of me as food right now. He can't remember our life together. What if the memories I gave him aren’t enough to sustain our relationship?” I replied as doubts and fears began to pour through my head.

  “I wouldn't bet on that,” she said with a small smile. “I've seen the way he looks at you. You're much more than just the next meal to him. In fact, I would say the demon bloodlust will make him border on obsession of you instead.”

  Great, I thought. A more obsessive Vance was exactly what I needed.

  “So what do you think?” Krista asked. “Can you work your feminine wiles over him?”

  “I'll try,” I said with a sigh, not really having to consider the decision for long. This was Vance we were talking about. I'd do whatever it took. “I don’t know how good I'll be though.”

  She stood, helping me to my feet, wrapping her arms around me to keep me standing.

  “I’m sure you will do fine,” she encouraged me. “Now let’s get you back to the bungalow.”

  We left the house locked and we walked out to the car together. I had to lean on her heavily, barely being able to control my own body in the slightest movement. She helped me inside, buckling me up, and we drove up the giant hill to the resort on the top of the red rock cliff. There was no sign of Vance’s motorcycle anywhere when we pulled into the parking lot.

  We climbed out of the vehicle, and I saw Shelly run out of the back door to the office in our direction.

  “Shelly! What're you doing here?” I asked in confusion, wondering why she was still around and awake so late into the night. “I thought you went with the rest of the coven.”

  “Brad and I stayed behind,” she explained. “We aren’t any threat to Vance. If he needs our magic, he can have it,” she said gesturing toward the amulet which generated her powers, hanging around her neck. “Plus, my blood runs one hundred percent human. He won’t have any desire for me.”

  “He could still view you as a threat though. You’re a part of the coven. And like you said, you're human and it would be easy for him to kill you in a fit of rage,” I replied, worried for her safety.

  “I don’t care,” she replied with a bravado that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I won’t leave you behind.”

  I reached my free arm out and gave her a hug.

  “Do you realize, in my most desperate situations, you have always been the one who remained beside me? You're a good, good, friend Shelly. I'm lucky to have you in my life.”

  “I’m the lucky one,” she said with a smile, and she released me, only to place her arm around me, shouldering some of my weight from Krista.

  The three of us walked over to the bungalows together.

  “Come inside with me,” Krista said. “Let me get you something to eat. It will help you feel better. You're going to need to keep your energy up.”

  I didn’t argue, and Shelly and I went with her into her place. They sat me down at the small table in the kitchen. I leaned over against the wall. Shelly and I snacked on crackers and cream cheese together, while Krista made some sandwiches and ju
ice.

  “What did he do to you?” Shelly asked me point blank, eyeing me with concern.

  I looked at her for a moment, trying to decide the best way to answer her question without sounding too awful. In the end I decided it was awful so I just blurted out the truth.

  “He killed me,” I said with a sigh.

  “What?” she replied in a loud voice. “How did he do that?”

  “He drank every last drop of her blood,” Krista interjected for me.

  “Sounds painful,” Shelly replied with sympathy.

  “It was—extremely so,” I agreed, and we all sat in silence for a few moments, each of us lost in our own thoughts.

  “Sorry this isn’t some spectacular dinner for you,” Krista said apologetically.

  It’s fine.” My stomach growled in response. “It looks delicious!”

  The food tasted good. I couldn’t believe how hungry I'd become after my ordeal with death today. I wondered if Vance was feeling the same way, before I realized with a sinking thought that he had, and I'd been his dinner.

  This was going to be a difficult situation.

  Chapter 9

  I squared my shoulders against the lingering weakness and walked into the dark bungalow by myself, knowing he was in there waiting for me. I could sense him.

  “What took you so long?” I turned to see his red eyes glowing out at me from the area of the sofa.

  Though it was still very draining to use my powers, I mentally flipped on the light switch before walking carefully past him into the kitchen to get a drink of water, trying not to appear too weak.

  “Where do you think you're going?” he called after me, the sound of annoyance moving through his voice.

  “I need to replenish my fluids,” I said back to him over my shoulder. “I’m feeling a little dry this evening,” I added sarcastically.

  “Really? I’m not.” He chuckled.

  “Yeah, I kind of got that impression.” I fished a glass out of the cupboard.

  “Hey. You killed me first,” he responded.