Samantha Watkins: Chronicles of an Extraordinary Ordinary Life (Samantha Watkins Series Book 1)

by Aurélie Venem

  There was nothing sharp or cold about his voice in that moment. It was filled with vulnerability, the gauge of true sincerity. I’d held my breath during his speech, and now that it was over and he was searching my face for my reaction, I was finding it difficult to breathe. Unable to do anything else, I let the flood of tears I’d been holding back stream down my face.

  His confession completely floored me. If he was telling me all this, it was because he was afraid of his attachment to me. He considered affection—emotional and physical affection—so weak that he refused to open up to me. However . . . he thought of me as a true friend. I realized it was the same for me. Even if I got along with Angela and Matthew, I knew that they would never know me as well as the vampire beside me, and he was waiting to hear if I forgave him or not.

  I took a deep breath and looked him straight in the eye.

  “You hurt me. Never do it again.”

  “I promise you.”

  He was surprised when I closed the distance between us and nestled against him. I found that his smell comforted me, and that sensation increased when he wrapped his arms around me and held me against him.

  That simple promise was enough to purge me of all the heartache that was weighing me down. It meant that from now on, the vampire and his human were connected by an unfailing friendship, founded on trust and sincerity.

  I was ready to go back with him, but at the station exit I gave him the conditions of my return.

  “Now that everything is in order, you can call me Sam. And since friends do each other favors, you can call a taxi to get us back to Scarborough. I forgive you, but it’s out of the question for me to find myself flying again like a bird riding a bat.”

  He stared, smiled, then whistled at the first taxi that approached the station.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Encounters

  When we returned to the manor, it was almost eleven o’clock, but I wasn’t tired at all. Phoenix settled into the sofa in the parlor while I got us both something to drink. Seated in an armchair, I sipped my lemonade before testing just how far Phoenix trusted me.

  “Phoenix . . . that’s not your real name, right?”

  Silence. He must have been weighing the pros and cons of telling me. But then he spoke.

  “I chose that name when I became a vampire. After all, I had risen from the dead.”

  “What is your name?” I asked, wanting to learn as much as possible about his life before.

  “My family was Irish. I was Aydan MacKinley.”

  “Aydan . . . ,” I murmured.

  I liked the name.

  “No one has called me that for centuries.”

  “Tell me about your family . . . please.”

  He sighed and stared fixedly at his glass of blood, as if recalling old memories revived emotions that had disappeared long ago.

  “We were just peasants. We farmed the land of an English nobleman named Carson. He was a greedy brute without any regard for the woman he took to bed. My sister, Keira, was beautiful, and unfortunately for her, Lord Carson noticed her one day as he was passing by our farm . . .”

  He gritted his teeth. I was afraid that I’d been too nosy and he would clam up again. I knew that his story didn’t have a happy ending, and I didn’t want to open old wounds just to satisfy my curiosity.

  “I’m sorry . . . it’s fine if you stop there.”

  “No. I think that you must hear this story in order to better understand me.”

  I nodded.

  “I loved my sister, and I was very happy when my parents allowed her to marry the man she loved. As for me, despite being the eldest and thirty years old, I was still unmarried. It drove my father crazy, but I did not care much about that. My sister was sixteen, and I protected her fiercely. Her fiancé, Thomas, really had to prove himself before he could hope to even talk to her.” Phoenix smiled at that.

  “One night, when we’d organized a small party with the villagers to seal the union between our two families, two riders passing by came, attracted by our singing. The first was Lord Carson, the second, one of his guests, a man called Finn. When our lord asked my parents why we were celebrating, they spoke of Thomas and Keira’s upcoming wedding and asked for his blessing. As soon as he saw my sister, I saw the lust in his eyes. I was the only one to notice it. Suddenly anxious about Keira’s future, I had not noticed that I had also caught someone’s eye . . . Finn’s . . . but I shall return to that.

  “What I had feared happened. Two days before the wedding, I was helping my father repair our roof when we saw several men on horseback heading in our direction. They ordered Keira to go with them for the honor of being deflowered by our lord. It had already happened to Shannon, another young woman in our village. Shannon was never the same afterward . . . and I could not stand for that . . .”

  I was at once captivated and horrified by his words. I thought about the movie Braveheart, and I was sure that the outcome of Phoenix’s story would be just as tragic.

  “I asked Shannon’s brothers to help me free Keira from these knights before they arrived at their castle and all would be lost. Our knowledge of the area gave us the advantage to catch up with them quickly, and we knew a shortcut that allowed us to set up an ambush. We only had stones, sticks, and the element of surprise. We managed to break Keira free, and I hid her in another village, with an elderly relative. I thought that in time our lord would forget everything, but I was wrong. He deployed all his forces to find us, and when he did, his vengeance knew no limits.

  “Keira and Thomas were hanged together in the public square, and Lord Carson’s men made us watch. When they hanged my parents and the parents of my accomplices, Carson had a front-row seat, and he savored every minute of each horrific spectacle. Then it was our turn.

  “To make it more enjoyable, our judge chose to burn us alive at midnight. He made everyone in the village come to watch. Finn was there too.

  “Before bringing us to the pyre, we were forced to stand in front of our lord to beg his forgiveness. Of course, we had been tortured prior to that. All my accomplices yielded to the whims of the man behind our misfortune, but not me. I wanted to spit on his face, but the executioner stopped me. I struggled so much they had to tie me up. All that made Lord Carson laugh. Finn, who was by his side, said nothing and was content to examine me strangely. I learned why later, after seeing my friends perish in the flames, smelling the stench of their burned flesh while I waited to follow them into that grisly death.

  “Lord Carson and Finn came up to me then. The lord stared at me, his smile cruel.

  “He said, ‘I do not know if you can call yourself lucky, given what is waiting for you, but Finn has gotten you a reprieve. You have impressed him. You should know that one of his favorite activities is to break arrogant rebels like you. He told me what is in store for you. Believe me, you will be amused. Come on. You can thank me for putting you in the hands of such a lord. Ha-ha-ha! Bring him!’ he ordered his guards.

  “The following night, they chained me up and made me get on a horse, ready to follow my new master. We rode for a week, and he never said a single word. I did not understand why, but we only traveled at night. Sometimes he would tie me up in a stable while he went off on his own. When he came back, he always seemed healthier and more energetic than before.

  “When we finally reached his estate, vast lands and a majestic manor, his plans for me became clear. That very evening, he summoned me before him and ordered that my chains be removed. I stared at him, confused, and he said, ‘Those chains are of little use since you will not be going anywhere. I have big plans for you.’

  “Then he announced point-blank that the courage I had shown at the death of my family had made an impression on him, and so he had chosen me to be his son.”

  Phoenix stared into his glass. I hung on his every word.

  “His son, you said?”

  “I was just as surprised as you. But the adoption he had in mind entailed taking a step I was
not ready for. My death.”

  A light bulb went on in my head.

  “So Finn is your creator? It’s him. He’s the one who gave you that scar on your back, isn’t he?”

  “You are perceptive as well as observant. But stop cutting me off. It is rude.”

  Oops.

  “Well, I had not gone through all that suffering just for someone to kill me and then bring me back to life as a blood-drinking monster, and then to make me serve the one who did it. The next day, I escaped. I ran as far as I could, but once night fell, he found me. I tried to get away from him, but that is when he cut open my back with his knife. When I fell to the ground, bathed in my own blood, he told me that I would keep that mark forever, that it would always be a reminder that he could find me anywhere. He then picked me up and took flight. Now you know where I get that ability from.

  “He did not come near me again until the wound on my back started to heal over. I had an infection and a fever, despite the attentions of the servants . . . but Finn would not let me die. As I hallucinated, he drained me of my blood. I can say that despite my delirium, I felt an indescribable pain that reached its height when he began the Blood Exchange to transform me from a human into a vampire. The transformation of a human into a vampire causes horrible suffering, which explains why in most cases the humans end up dying, for good. But I woke up . . .

  “It was night, and I was starving. The only thing I wanted was blood and not just any blood—Lord Carson’s. Finn used his authority as my creator to stop me from going to kill my former master. I was connected to Finn, and I could not disobey him no matter how much I hated him. So he trained me, for a long time. When he finally deemed me ready, he let me carry out the vengeance that would mark the definitive loss of my humanity . . . but I would prefer to not talk about that.”

  I understood why. Phoenix must have thought that I would look upon him with absolute horror if he ever described the hell he must have given Lord Carson before ending his life. Maybe that would have been my reaction . . .

  He continued. “Finn and I went from continent to continent. He taught me everything he knew about life, humans, the vampire community, and weaponry. I learned to respect him over time, and in a way, he did act as a father to me. At least as much as a vampire could be a father. We stayed together for a hundred years, then he decided he had nothing more to teach me. He set me free, and here I am.”

  I looked at him wide-eyed. How could the story be over? I wanted to hear more.

  “But . . . he set you free, and that’s it? You never heard from him again? He can’t force you to carry out his will anymore?”

  “The reason why I learned to respect Finn, and why I still respect him, wherever he is, is that he taught me that I can be a vampire without necessarily being a monster, because he was not one. Well, at least compared to others. I told you before, it is rare for creators and their protégés to stay together for several centuries, because the need for independence always takes priority. Generally, when the young vampires are ready, their creators free them from their authority so they can be autonomous. Young vampires always demonstrate exceptional loyalty to their creators.”

  “You say you respect him. Does that mean you’ve forgiven him for giving you that scar? And for making you suffer so much as you became a vampire?”

  “The transformation does not just change our body. Our moral codes are no longer the same. We do not see things the same way. We are not human anymore.”

  “That means you accept it . . .”

  “But I’ll never forget,” he said.

  Incredible. Phoenix had revealed his whole story to me, and except for the part about his sister, not a single emotion had registered on his face.

  “Thank you, Phoenix . . . for opening up. I understand certain things better now.”

  “I am not used to talking about my life from before. You are the first person I have told that to. Even my friends don’t know the details of my human life. Only Finn knows.”

  Very selfishly, I felt an immense burst of pride. After all, I’d finally gotten what I wanted, and more. However, I also felt compassion for Phoenix and his tragic life story.

  “You can trust me.”

  “I know. I found that out when you confronted Heath. You did not tell him where I was,” he said, looking at me closely.

  “I told him to go fry in the sunlight!” I smiled.

  “You showed great courage . . .”

  I wasn’t fishing for laurels, but the compliment pleased me.

  “And you were hurt.”

  Ah. Yes. Damn, I’d almost forgotten. Walking around with a broken rib was not supposed to be easy, but strangely this was the case for me. I felt a throbbing pain of course, but nothing really bad. I must have been bizarrely constituted.

  “I don’t know what Heath likes about my arm, but he has an unpleasant tendency to pull on it and then send me flying across the pavement like a barrel at every one of our meetings. At least I got away with no more than a broken rib.”

  “You know you need to be treated . . . and you cannot really go to a hospital. Someone will ask how that happened.”

  I tensed up suddenly, understanding his meaning.

  “Oh no! Not that!”

  Phoenix sighed. “And what other option do we have?”

  “Oh, there are people who live quite well with only one kidney, so I could live with a broken rib. You’ll see, I won’t complain about it at all,” I said, full of hope.

  “You were right. When you panic, you will say just about anything. Come on. It’s not the end of the world, you will not become a vampire, I promise!”

  After all that I’d read about his species, I dreaded the side effects that a small amount of his blood would have on me. The first time Phoenix made me drink his blood, I’d been unconscious, but now I was fully awake, and I balked at the thought of becoming some kind of junkie or nymphomaniac.

  “But yuck! It’s too gross! I don’t want to become a raging madwoman after drinking it. I didn’t make sure to avoid cults all my life only to suffer delirium tremens thanks to vampire blood.”

  “Don’t be scared, nothing bad will happen. You will just feel a bit warmer.”

  “So hot that I’ll take off my clothes!” Oops. I’d let my thought escape. I blushed. “Oh, fine, OK!”

  He gestured for me to join him on the sofa, and I rolled my eyes before complying. I was not overly confident about this.

  “Are you ready?”

  As my answer, I looked at him like a beaten dog. He abruptly brought his wrist to his mouth and cut open his skin with his fangs. He showed his wrist to me, blood dripping from his lips.

  “Drink,” he ordered.

  I gagged, but I couldn’t back out now.

  Carefully, I leaned forward, took his wrist in my hands, and took a taste. A tenth of a second later, I sat straight up, disgusted, and I heard Phoenix growl.

  “Drink, Sam!”

  It was not so much his insistence as the use of my nickname that affected me. Once again, I held his wrist, and this time, I drank in his blood, more intentionally. I found the first mouthful terrible. Then, my revulsion yielded to indifference, then curiosity. At the same time, a strange warmth invaded my body and brought warmth to my cheeks. The warmth wasn’t burning me, though; it was keeping me in a kind of pleasurable state that got more and more pronounced. Reaching the height of that warmth, my eyes closed of their own accord, and I squirmed in my seat. At the very moment of an explosion of sensuality in my body, Phoenix pulled away . . .

  “I think that’s enough.”

  Immediately brought down to earth, I realized what had happened and nearly choked with shame and indignation.

  “Good grief,” I panted, ready to explode, but for a different reason.

  “You do not need to be ashamed. Your reaction is perfectly normal. And before you drive a stake through my heart, remember that I told you to expect feeling a certain . . . heat.”

  “You
definitely didn’t define what you meant by heat!” I roared.

  “Maybe, but I told you the truth. Are you still in pain?”

  He wanted to distract me so I wouldn’t jump down his throat, but that suited me well enough. I didn’t want to elaborate on the tidal wave that had taken me by surprise. Just thinking about it again . . . Argh! It was too embarrassing! I focused my attention on my rib cage.

  “No, I don’t feel anything anymore. Did my bruises disappear too? Because I was starting to look like a raisin, there were so many.”

  “I cannot predict the effect my blood will have on you. Maybe it will heal more than your broken rib, maybe not. You will know tomorrow.”

  “I read somewhere that a connection is created between a vampire and a human who drinks the vampire’s blood. Is that true?”

  “No, not at all. My blood has no effect other than the one you just felt, but at the same time, I have never had anyone else drink from me.”

  At the mention of my response to his blood, I immediately blushed scarlet, so I rushed to turn the focus to his second point.

  “You’ve never, um, what do you call that? Created someone? Since becoming a vampire?”

  “No. I do not feel the need. And it’s not like we can bring new vampires into the world as we please.”

  “Oh, yeah, population control.”

  “Exactly.”

  “It’s strange . . . the words you use. ‘Son.’ ‘Bring into the world.’ It’s as if transforming someone is just like childbirth.”

  “Since we are dead, and even though we can have physical relations with other vampires and humans, procreation is impossible for us. Therefore, transforming someone has symbolic value in our eyes, and we do not take it lightly. Most do it to have a companion after a long, solitary existence, and the tie that binds the two parties can take different forms. Parent and adopted child, master and pupil, a sexual relationship. Each vampire is responsible for his or her student. If it turns out that the master has flouted our laws by neglecting the student’s training, both are equally punished.”