Silent Cravings

by E. Blix

  Seeing Mouse staring nervously at him helped to keep him from doing something drastically stupid, like screaming in horror.

  “That was different.”

  Mouse gave him a nervous, lopsided smile, uncertain if that meant he really was okay or if he was trying to save her feelings. She loosened her grip on his hand so he could pull away if he wanted to.

  She wasn’t too sure if he appreciated the physical contact after what she’d done. It was hard to tell what he wanted. To be comforted? Left alone? It didn’t seem right to ask, but seeing him so unnerved made her feel the same way.

  Christoph dearly wanted to bolt, turn his bed into a den, and hide in it for the rest of his life—but he didn’t want to offend Mouse. What did you do after you were bitten? Sit there and chat? Have a cigarette? Watch a movie? Pass out?

  There really needed to be a pamphlet on this or something.

  Eventually, Mouse let go of his hand so she could put some space between them. Obviously, he wasn’t comfortable with what she’d done. To her mind, that meant he wasn’t comfortable with her, either.

  Averting her eyes, she tried to think of something to write, some kind of distraction to use, anything other than just sitting there in awkward, strained silence. Her mind was totally blank. She was starting to feel worse than John; at least he’d left Ashi alone afterwards, not expecting anything else from him.

  Thoroughly embarrassed and deeply regretting having ever brought up the subject, she finally wrote something down.

  I’m really sorry. It won’t happen again.

  Meaning, she’d never again ask him to let her bite him and would probably avoid him for quite a while. Even if he said yes, she’d only think he was doing it out of some sense of obligation—not because he wanted to.

  Christoph inspected his wrist. The bite mark was already closed, and the droplets of blood had dried.

  Looking at it logically, there wasn’t anything truly abhorrent about what vampires did to willing donors. He could see why they’d want it—it felt good. Even now his wrist throbbed with pleasant aftershocks.

  The donors here obviously weren’t downtrodden juice boxes, wasting away from blood loss. It couldn’t even be compared to eating meat—you killed the cow for that.

  He began to wonder why he was making such a big deal out of this. His internal arguments were equally strong for both sides of the matter, but after seeing how much everyone in this building cared for each other, it was hard to continue to see them all as crazy or monstrous. Mouse’s obvious concern for Thad when he was injured, instead of falling on him like a wild animal, went a long way towards changing his mind about his assumptions regarding the nature of vampires.

  “Look, it’s not that it was horrible or anything. It’s just... new. And sort of uncomfortable, sure. I mean, this isn’t something I do every day.” He paused, rubbing at his wrist. “I thought I would have a meltdown, and I didn’t. Frankly, I should probably stop being a total baby about this. But if I’m going about this wrong and I should be swooning or something right now, I can.”

  He dramatically raised his hand to his forehead and pitched back on the couch. A wave of dizziness hit him and he grimaced.

  “Or, you know, I can just not move for an hour. Ooooh, head rush.”

  When he fell back, Mouse’s eyes widened. She shook her head, a silent laugh startled out of her. Shoulders shaking, she got to her feet, urging him to put his legs up on the couch and placing a hand to his chest to indicate he should stay where he was.

  He grabbed her hand before she could pull away and gave it a reassuring squeeze and a kiss to her knuckles—something he’d seen done in a movie once—which made her feel immeasurably better. She went to the kitchen and made the only kind of comfort food she could share with him. He may not have figured it out, but the tea she drank helped suppress her appetite.

  She returned shortly with black tea liberally laced with honey and lemon, pressing one into his hands and cradling her own cup against her chest.

  Though he felt a little dizzy when he sat up, Christoph set the tea aside and then gently took Mouse’s wrist. Though she looked startled, she didn’t resist when he pulled the tea out of her hands to place next to his own, urging her to sit beside him before reaching up to cradle her cheeks in his hands and peer deeply into her eyes.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “You scare the shit out of me—everyone here does—and I’ve always thought that vampires are all a pack of murderous, soul-sucking monsters…but you aren’t. You’re nice, you care and you’re… you’re hot. I mean, you’re beautiful. And nice.” At her blank expression, his face fell, and his hands slid down to her shoulders. “Look, I suck at this, and I’ve done some really stupid shit lately. To you, to Analie, even to Ashi, that asshole—and none of it is your fault. What I mean to say is that you’re not a monster—and I’m sorry I thought you were.”

  Though a bit nonplussed at his impromptu confession, Mouse couldn’t help the slow spread of a smile. His change of heart had caught her by surprise, but now that the shock was wearing off, an unfamiliar feeling of warmth—not from his blood, but from somewhere deeper inside—suffused her as she brushed the back of her hand against his cheek. Christoph was by no means a poet, but his sincerity meant more to her than any number of sonnets that had been written in ode to her beauty and talents over the centuries.

  He accepted her just as she was, and that was worth more to her than any words would ever be.

  Mouse had an idea, recalling something Analie had told her. Hiding her uncertainty, she slid one hand behind Christoph’s head to brush through his hair. There was only a smidge of possession in her touch.

  Christoph nearly melted with relief when Mouse started with the head scratches. Lord only knew how she knew that was his kryptonite, but he wasn’t about to complain or ask questions. He had been worried that his ham-handed attempt at an apology might scare her off. He smiled contentedly and closed his eyes, letting out a deep sigh.

  It may not have been the happily ever after of his dreams, but if he got this every time she bit him, he would be perfectly fine with it.

  About the Authors

  Jess Haines, author of urban fantasy and paranormal romance, is a displaced New Yorker who writes about vampires, werewolves, and other bitey creatures of the night from her home in Southern California. Find out more at www.jesshaines.com.

  E. Blix is a California native who enjoys the vampire-repellant sunshine. She enjoys writing about and drawing supernatural beasties and preparing for the inevitable zombie apocalypse.