Called to Order [The Order of Vampyres 1] (Siren Publishing Allure)

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Called to Order [The Order of Vampyres 1] (Siren Publishing Allure) Page 20

by Lydia Michaels


  When he first told her about needing a transfusion, she had a more clinical approach in her head, IVs, tourniquets, and the like. When he said he had already taken her blood, she had images of Adam in James Bond garb drugging her and filling a small vile with her red stuff. It had never crossed her mind that he had bitten her.

  Was this why she was having dreams about bloodsucking insects? Was her subconscious trying to tell her something? Was the spider-looking bite on her leg actually from Adam? She thought they bit in the neck. And if he drank enough, would she turn into one? No, he said they had to transfer blood for that to happen. Or was that just for mates?

  She needed to get out of here, that’s what she needed to do. Somehow, some way, she had to convince Adam to let her go home. This was simply too much for her. There were no such things as vampires!

  The sadness she felt at the thought of leaving was something she didn’t know how to cope with. She didn’t want to be here, yet leaving filled her with such trepidation she wanted to cry. The thought of going home left her confused. Where she had built her life around her own likes and dislikes, choosing the people to surround herself with, following a career she could see herself happy in, and dating a man she felt free to be herself around, it suddenly all felt wrong. She had not molded herself to fill a slot, but surrounded herself with things and people that molded to what she wanted. However, the idea of returning to her old life made her feel like a big, fat square peg trying to squeeze into a tiny, round pinhole.

  She began to pluck buttercups from the grass and drop them into the soft dip of her apron. When she collected over a dozen, she began weaving them into her braid of grass.

  The idea of picking up with Kyle where things had left off left her completely cold. She suddenly saw things about him she not only didn’t like, but things that actually turned her off. He was her friend and coworker, but she could not imagine ever being intimate with him again. She would always hold him in Adam’s shadow. She would most likely hold every man in Adam’s shadow for that matter.

  Adam was the most handsome man she had ever seen, hotter than Brad Pitt or any other product of Hollywood. But if she were blind, and even if he were ugly, she still would have found him beautiful. And Adam was right here. He wanted her. She would never meet another man like him. There would never be another man that could set her body afire the way he did. And he wanted to marry her. For all eternity.

  She wondered if she did bond with him, if she would look better. Would her breasts fill out? Would she be a little taller? Would Adam still want her if she looked different? It didn’t matter anyway. She could not sign her life, no, several lifetimes, to a man she really didn’t know.

  Did Anna know Adam? She went over the facts. He was a good big brother, a loyal son, a caring and generous lover. He could dance. He was soft-spoken yet confident enough that he never came off as weak. She had seen that he would fight even his brother to defend her honor. He was financially secure. He had a strong relationship with God and did not like it when she cussed. He was also incredibly sexy. Was there anything else a girl could ask for? Oh yeah, and he drank blood. Vamp fantasies were fun until you were living them. In real life, biting hurt.

  And then there was the be-all and end-all. She could either live forever or Adam would die. She would have the rest of eternity to come to terms with her situation, yet Adam would have nothing past his last moments of surrender. He would be giving up eternity, for her, so she could, maybe, live another sixty-some years. She didn’t want to make such a decision. She bet if she chose what was best for herself, the pathetically short remainder of her life would be plagued with the knowledge that a good man died because of her. That wasn’t something she wanted to live with. Maybe he could erase her memories. Could vampires do that?

  The idea of not remembering Adam made her sad as well. There seemed no happy ending in all of this. Either she died and was reborn with eternal life and mated to a man and life she barely knew, or a man she barely knew but was half in love with would die. And it would be all her fault!

  Irritated that she still had not come to terms with one decision or another, she growled at her indecisiveness and crumpled the delicate circulate of yellow flowers and grass and tossed it weakly away. They would wilt by the end of the day anyway.

  * * * *

  Adam watched Anna from his place on the porch. Gracie had said she had been sitting in the field all day and had not eaten or spoken to anyone. He read her emotions. They were incongruent, sad one minute then hopeful then sad again. He watched her as the sun made its final, flourished bow behind the mountains in the distance, painting the green fields radiant shades of pink and yellow. Then everything had turned a foreboding shade of gray.

  He should go to her. When the sky finally darkened, he took a step to do just that but hesitated as her soft sobs reached his ears and he saw her shoulders quake in the darkness. This was his fault.

  When she seemed to calm her tears, a sense of numbness washing over her, he began to walk toward her spot in the field. He purposely stepped on a twig so that she would hear him approaching. She stiffened at the sound but did not turn to greet him. Finally he said, “You are sad.”

  She still did not face him, and he kept his position standing several feet behind her. He assumed she would ignore him like she did his sister, but then she surprised him by saying, “It is lovely here. We don’t have anything like these sunsets at home.”

  “My mother used to tell us the sunset was God tucking his children in for the night. The yellow was his prayers, the pink his kiss, and the black him shutting his eyes.”

  “My mom used to read me The Very Hungry Caterpillar by Eric Carle.”

  “I am not familiar with that tale.”

  “It’s about a caterpillar that eats everything in sight and then turns into a butterfly.”

  He shifted his feet. “Do you miss your mother? I lost an uncle, but am not familiar with mourning many loved ones.”

  “She died after I finished high school. I was sad and still miss her, but she always worked so incredibly hard to make ends meet and make sure I had school clothes and lunches that I was almost grateful when she died. It was as if she would finally be able to rest.”

  “Was your father not there to protect you?”

  “No. I never knew my dad, don’t even know what he looks like. He never contacted me and my mom never talked about him much.”

  “He fled his responsibilities.”

  “Yes, but that isn’t uncommon where I’m from. Plenty of women do it on their own and do just fine.”

  “I would never be a man like your father.”

  “I know. You’re nothing like any man I know, all super powers aside.”

  He slowly moved and sat down next to her. “I do not have superpowers. I am just a different species with different abilities. It is the same as cows and humans. Cows walk on four feet and moo while humans walk on two and speak and feel emotions.”

  “Is that how you see us? Just more sophisticated cattle?”

  “No. I see you as my equal.”

  She shut her eyes and shook her head. He noticed a red burn across the bridge of her nose and wanted to soothe the area. He wanted to pull her into his arms and hold her tight and promise everything would be all right. “Anna, you can ask me anything, and I will give you an honest answer.”

  She sighed. “Did you ever kill a human?”

  Distraught that she would think him capable of such an act, he quickly answered, “No.”

  “Then how do you…eat?”

  “We eat from the land just as you do. When we…feed, we lull animals into a sort of twilight haze and only take what we need and never too much. We do not harm or deplete the animal’s blood source.”

  “So you never bite people? But you bit me.”

  “Mates feed from each other. Humans can be a blood source, but it is easier to deal with animals sometimes. Their blood is not as strong, but it is enough.”

 
“How often do you do it?”

  “It varies. Right now because of my…situation, I require much more than I ever have. Age comes into play as well. Gracie only feeds once every day or two because she is young. Some of the children on the farm only need blood from their mothers every few weeks. My mother has blood in the evenings and my father feeds her the rest of the time. If a woman is with child she requires much more, but the average man or woman usually only feeds once a day.”

  “When your mother…and your father…when they…doesn’t it deplete your father.”

  “The men are around the animals more throughout the day. We have an easier time keeping ourselves fed. Besides, when a male feeds his female it is…erotic. It usually takes place in the throes of passion.”

  Anna looked down and fidgeted. “Doesn’t it hurt?”

  “It can, I suppose if the donor is not being distracted, but we know how to prevent that. It can actually be a very pleasurable experience.” He remembered the first time he’d fed from Anna and how she eventually fell to pieces in orgasmic bliss. True he had been touching her intimately beforehand, but when he was feeding from her he had only been touching her with his mouth. Should he tell her about that? “You liked it.”

  “What?”

  “When I fed from you…you…” He rolled his hand in the direction of her lower body.

  “Are you saying I had an orgasm?”

  He thought about the word. “Orgasm, yes.” A moment passed and he offered, “I can show you.”

  “I don’t think I’m quite there yet.”

  He knew she wasn’t, but her light laugh at his suggestion brought him great comfort. “You did not eat today. Why don’t you come inside and have your supper?”

  “I think I just want to go to bed.”

  * * * *

  Later that night Anna lay next to Adam wide-awake in the darkness. He had been quiet for several hours, and she assumed he was asleep. Her brain had not stopped, and now her stomach was beginning to ache and groan.

  She quietly slipped out of the bed and padded over to where their clothing hung from the pegs by the door. She reached blindly for her skirt and found Adam’s shirt. She pulled the large shirt over her shoulders, fastened the snaps, and quietly slipped out the door.

  The house was dark and silent. She felt her way down the hall and navigated her way to the kitchen. She had noticed a plate waiting on the counter for her earlier and hoped it was still there.

  When she entered the kitchen, she carefully walked to the hutch on which she knew one of the lanterns rested. It took a few moments for her to get the contraption lit, but she finally managed. As the amber glow chased away the shadows, she breathed a sigh of relief when she saw her plate still sitting there. She pulled the cloth away and lifted the dish. Turning toward the table she gasped and stifled a scream, almost dropping her plate. Adam’s father sat at the table, holding a tall pewter goblet and watching her.

  “Hello, my child.”

  “Jonas. I didn’t think anyone was in here.”

  “My apologies. Would you like me to leave?”

  “Of course not. I was just going to grab something to eat. Do you mind? I missed both meals today.”

  “Please,” he said motioning to the chair across from her.

  She watched him as she nibbled at the food on her plate. He watched her as well, sipping occasionally from his goblet. She wondered what he was drinking and then figured it was probably better not to think too hard on the matter.

  Jonas finally broke the silence by asking, “Did Adam ever speak to you of his great uncle Isaiah?”

  She plucked at her cold biscuit. “No.”

  “Well, he was actually my uncle, brother to my father Ezekiel. He was an amazing man.”

  “Was?”

  “We lost him many years ago. He was, I believed, a great model for the rest of us to follow. He was kind, patient, generous, charitable, and wonderful with the children on the farm. I remember being a boy and thinking he was almost mythological, like the man you English call Saint Nicholas.

  “When Uncle Isaiah would travel to our home, he would always bring treasures he had found and show us new ways to have fun. He could transform the most irritating chores into treasure hunts and adventures. As I grew into a man, he proved to be not only an influential elder I held in great esteem, but a friend. I miss my uncle very much.”

  “What happened to him?”

  She watched as the man took a long sip from his goblet and placed the heavy metal cup on the table. “At first we were not sure what was happening. He was working beside me in the field one day when, all the sudden, he fell from his horse. He split his arm, but managed to heal by the next day. He had suddenly become clumsy. This man I hero-worshipped my entire life who could do anything in my eyes was suddenly incapable of simple tasks. The more he had these spells, the more his disposition changed.

  “One day, after another bad fall, he had taken to bed. He had damaged his back, a painful injury even for our kind. I had finished my chores early and told Abilene I wanted to check on my uncle. She sent me with a basket of food to take to him and I went on my way. When I arrived, his home was dark. Younger generations live with their families until they marry most of the time. Isaiah was quite old though, so he had his own home built several years prior.

  “I walked into the quiet dwelling and heard him in the back room. The house smelled of death. I could hear him moving around and moaning and I hoped he hadn’t fallen and worsened his injury. I dropped my basket and ran into his private room. When I found him, he was in bed and asleep, but not sleeping the way our kind normally does. He was tossing and turning and groaning. He sounded like he was with a female, yet would sometimes make sounds of such anguish I did not understand what was happening. He was definitely alone. I made sure of it.

  “As I am sure you have noticed, our people sleep quite soundly. Although Adam dreams, he only does so when he is sharing a dream with you, his mate. I’m several times my son’s age and had never had a dream in my long life. It is something that does not happen. Until we are called to our mate, that is.”

  “So your uncle was dreaming? He was being called?”

  “Yes.” Jonas sighed. “He had been having the dreams and dizzy spells for some time, but chose not to tell anyone. I had noticed other oddities as well. One day we had been shoeing horses in the barn for a few hours. When we left the shade, he hissed and jumped back into the shelter of the barn. Evolution has made it so that we can tolerate the sun. It has been so for so long I am not sure if there was ever any truth to the whole sunlight kills vampyres legend anyway. Yet, when it is time for one of our kind to find their mate, the sun becomes a problem.”

  “But Adam is gone during the day.”

  “It is a chore. He purchased sunspecs while he was searching for you. I watch him in the early hours of the day. The trek from the house to shelter is becoming more difficult with each passing day. He does most of his work in the shade of the barns, but getting there still wears on him. This morning alone his flesh was burned to the degree that it would have sent a mere human to the hospital.”

  “But he seemed fine when I saw him.”

  Jonas waved a finger at her. “Rapid healing. It is part of the reason he requires more blood of late. His body is expending more energy. It is also why you do not see him during first meal with the rest of us. By midafternoon the sun is too extreme for him to venture into its rays.”

  They sat quietly for a while. Annalise finally said, “Please tell me more about your uncle.”

  “After I realized Isaiah was showing signs of the calling, I went right to my father. There was a meeting, and the elders decided they needed to make a swift decision. Isaiah was already beginning to change. I did not even get a chance to wish him a safe trip and speedy return. He was gone within the hour.

  “After two weeks and not a word from Isaiah, there was another meeting. I was not invited to this one. I found my father after the meeting ha
d been adjourned. He was furious but mostly upset. He, along with several other males of The Order, would leave that evening to track Isaiah. If they found him with his mate they would bring him home. If they found him alone, they would trap him and…destroy him.”

  Anna gasped. “Why?” She knew Adam had said that the same would happen with him if they did not bond, but she still didn’t understand why such measures where necessary.

  “When one of us is called and does not find our mate, they become the unanswered. We are all animals before rational thinking beings. When the calling is unanswered and one’s mate proves elusive, the mind begins to fragment. The sun begins to limit our freedom and the bloodlust becomes a force too powerful to ignore. Small creatures no longer satisfy our appetites and actual food becomes too complex for our systems to digest. This leads to a need for more blood in order to sustain us. Only the blood begins to run through our systems like water. There is only one blood that will stop the process. The blood of a true mate.

  “However at that point, the mind is so far gone the man is incapable of courting said mate. He is more animal than man, a nocturnal beast that lurks in the shadows, bearing fangs and claws and watching the world through glowing eyes. You could imagine, when your mate is a human and grew up on tales that told of monsters that were only folklore meant to keep the kiddies in bed at night, that seeing a deranged creature, an unanswered vampyre, that the mating would not go too smoothly. That is if the mate is ever truly found at all.

  “Once a male or female of our kind reaches that point, they are not thinking clearly. They are so blood hungry and confused they begin taking victims at random, a game of roulette, hoping to fall across their called mate. When the blood hits the system and they realize it is again not satisfying the need the way a mate’s would, the beast falls into a rage and usually rips the victim’s throat out.” Anna gasped and Jonas sadly said, “There is a lot of carnage and a lot of innocent lives are destroyed. Not to mention the lives of those related to the victims, sons, daughters, spouses, mothers, fathers. It is a tragedy. Those lives lost are our burden. The guilt is ours to bear, and the crimes are our responsibility to end.

 

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