A bus pulled into the intersection, stopping to let out passengers right in front of Ashe. By the time it had left again, Peter and the man were nowhere to be seen. The crosswalk light turned green and Ashe hurried towards the park desperate for another glimpse of the man. It was her father, she was sure. But at the same time, it couldn’t have been. Surely, he would have aged in the time he had been away. His hair would have grayed more; his face would have shown the years in its wrinkles.
Ashe let her steps slow until she was standing like a lost child in the middle of the park. She felt foolish. Of course the man hadn’t been her father. She had been thinking too much of Peter and their conversation yesterday, and her mind had seen what it wanted to. Still, that voice of doubt, of distrust, that had dogged Ashe ever since her father left her now whispered in her ear: Peter and her father were colluding to hurt her again.
She turned to go back to the student center and saw Peter coming towards her. He was alone. Ashe put a hand to her head, feeling for all the world like she was losing her mind.
David looked haggard, with hollow cheeks and visible points to his canine teeth. He wore a brimmed hat to keep off the weak sunlight and a scarf was wrapped tight around his neck. He wore a long grey coat, and on his hands was a pair leather gloves. Not an inch of skin was visible besides his face. He looked like a detective from a 50’s pulp novel. He struggled to keep up with Peter as they walked through the park together. Peter hoped he was not neglecting to feed himself.
“I told you, it’s all yours. Every last drop.”
Landon’s clan was draining David dry, taking all of the blood he procured as soon as he got it leaving none for Peter and his family. Peter needed assurances that this time would be different.
“I’ll be waiting around back for you to come out. You try to stiff me, and you won’t like the consequences. Remember, I’ve been in this game a century longer than you. Don’t think you can pull one over on me.”
“I’m not trying to deceive you,” David said holding up his hands as if to ward off Peter’s threat. “I thought your blood would last. This city is plenty big enough for me to supply both your clans, as long as you give me the time to do it. You can’t keep going through bags like it’s the Middle Ages. You need to get your sisters under control.”
Peter kept his voice low so the passerby wouldn’t hear him, but he wanted more than anything to yell at David for trying to dodge the blame. Instead, he let the anger drip through his words like a slow-burning fire lit under David’s feet. “Your duty is to my clan, not theirs. They were able to find blood just fine on their own before you got here, and they can go back to doing it that way. Your only concern is us.”
David protested, “I told you I can manage. You just have to give me some time. It’s not so simple—”
“I know about your past,” Peter cut him off. “The family you left behind. Your word is worthless, as far as I’m concerned.” He had not meant to bring Ashe into this, but he couldn’t stop thinking about what she had said to him in the café last night.
“What are you talking about?” David said, a bead of sweat forming on his brow despite the cold.
Peter stopped in front of a stand of trees. “I know that you abandoned your young daughter and that she has never forgiven you. You should see the woman she has grown to become. She’s independent, brilliant, and beautiful but she still struggles with the pain you caused her and it’s holding her back. You may have forgotten your life before all this, but the people you left behind have not. They still live in the mess you made all those years ago.”
David wiped his damp brow with a shaking hand, but there was already too much sweat for him to hide. “You—you’ve seen my daughter? Is she still here?”
“What do you care?” Peter spat.
“You have to understand, it wasn’t my choice to leave her,” David said, nearly shouting. Peter had to gesture for him to be quieter. “Just let me explain, please,” David said in a softer tone.
“Fine,” Peter replied reluctantly. The man seemed desperate and Peter needed him calm before he went into the hospital to steal the blood.
David began, “Like I said, I didn’t leave my family because I wanted to. I left them to protect them, not to hurt them.
“I was in a car accident, on my way home from work. I don’t remember much, but I do remember lying on the pavement bleeding out with a piece of the car’s wreckage poking through my side and the thought that I’d never see my wife or daughter again. I was probably in a lot of pain, but all I could think about was my family. I didn’t even notice the woman calling my name at first. I’d never seen her before but she seemed to know me. Or maybe she’d read my name from my driver’s license. Anyway, she leaned over me as I lay there dying and told me she could save me. She said that I would not only be healed, but I would also never grow old. However, I would have to become a vampire like her in order to be saved.
I thought I was delirious from the blood loss and having a hallucination, but her cold hand on my cheek seemed real and the more she explained the more it all seemed to make sense. She said I needed to make my decision fast, because once I was gone there was no bringing me back. I was terrified of becoming like her, but she said it was the only way I’d be able to stay with my family. I believed her, and as soon as the first drops of her blood touched my lips not only was the pain gone, but the world came back into sharp focus and I was able to sit up on my own. I looked down at the bloody hole in my shirt only to find smooth skin beneath. It was as if I’d never been an accident. It was a miracle. I went home to my family never telling them what had happened.”
Peter listened to David’s story with a knot of dread in his stomach. He had seen enough freshly-turned vampires over the years to know just how strong the desire to feed was during those first months. Control came with practice, and a new vampire was at the highest risk of going feral and attacking those around him.
“But no one had told me of the hunger, or of the changes that came with my new condition. I tried eating normal food but was violently ill. The only thing I could keep down were raw, bloody steaks but even those settled poorly in my stomach. I kept dreaming of waking up in the night to drain my wife dry and in the day, all I could think about was the sweet smell of blood.
“I had accepted the woman’s help, thinking it was the only way I’d be able to stay with my family, but I soon realized I was a danger to them. So I packed my things and left them.”
Peter couldn’t believe the vampire that had turned David had just let him go off on his own like that. It was beyond irresponsible. He truly was a victim, just as Ashe was and all the others who had been hurt by vampirism whether they knew it or not.
Peter sighed. “I’m sorry for what that vampire did to you. But it doesn’t change the situation now. You’re still a vampire, and we still need our blood. You have to stop supplying to Landon’s clan.”
“But that’s the thing,” David said looking resigned. He started walking again and Peter had no choice but to follow. “Did you ever wonder why I moved back here, when there was such a high risk I’d be recognized?”
Peter shrugged. He thought it had been strange, but had been more worried about other things. Namely, fighting his own thirst for Ashe’s blood.
“Landon’s mother, Constance. She’s the one who turned me. Their clan used to go out into the country to feed, but these days it’s just not enough. She tracked me down and offered me a job. I knew that if I refused, she’d hurt my family.”
Of course, Peter thought. Landon had been all too smug about his family’s new blood supplier. Like David, Peter did not see any other alternative. He did not want to see Ashe come to any harm. But it didn’t change the fact that his family needed blood.
“Okay, I won’t let that happen. Let’s go to the hospital now. You get what you can, and I’ll meet you around back. I’ll make sure you keep enough for both yourself and to keep Landon’s clan happy. My clan will be fine for anothe
r few days.” Though this last part was a complete lie, Peter did not want David to panic and put the whole operation in jeopardy. He just needed a little time to think of an alternative. If Peter had to, he would go hungry for a couple of days. He knew he could stay in control. He had to.
They came to the edge of the park and Peter looked up just in time to see Ashe standing across the street waiting for the light to turn. She was the last person he wanted to see right now. It didn’t seem like she had spotted them yet. Peter had to act fast.
He put a hand on David’s shoulder, stopping him mid-stride. “You go ahead to the hospital. I’ll be there when you get out. I don’t want people seeing us together around the hospital, just in case something goes wrong.”
David nodded and set off at a brisk pace towards the tan stone building. Peter turned down a path out of sight from the intersection. They were both gone by the time Ashe crossed the street.
“Ashe,” Peter said, walking up to her with his hands in his pockets. “Taking a break from studying?” He gave her a warm smile.
Ashe tried to appear calm, though she felt like she was losing it. There was no one with Peter, no professor and certainly not her father.
“I—I wanted some fresh air,” she stuttered. “But I probably should be getting back. I left my books all over a table in the student center.”
“I’ll walk you,” Peter said. He put a friendly arm around her shoulders as they walked back towards campus together. Ashe couldn’t help but lean into his side as they walked, knowing his embrace was only one of friendship but feeling like she was his.
The feeling gave her the confidence to ask him about the man she had seen him with. “Hey, were you walking with someone earlier?” she asked.
Peter took his arm from around her shoulders and looked at her. “No,” he said with a slight frown. “I came to the park by myself. Why?”
“Never mind,” Ashe said feeling stupid. It must have been her mind playing tricks on her, after all.
“Professor Sharp’s going to start announcing topics for the final paper,” Peter said, happy to change the subject. “So you’d better get caught up on your reading by the end of the week if you want plenty of time for research. I can recommend some books once you’ve decided what you want to write about.”
Surprisingly enough, Ashe was already close to finishing the required reading for the class. All she had was a book about the history of vampire lore to get through. All of the gruesome artwork in the book had turned her stomach and she was struggling to get through even the first few chapters. It seemed terrible that anyone had the imagination to invent such stories in the first place. Ashe preferred the children’s folklore of the middle ages, though that too could be grim at times. It had to be, for an age when the life expectancy was nearly half what it was now. At least vampires could live forever, Ashe thought with a smile.
Peter walked her back to the student center before saying goodbye. He had a psychology class to get to and couldn’t stay with her to study. Ashe reluctantly went back to her books, wishing she could have spent the time with Peter instead. Even so, she found herself absorbed by her reading, enough that she nearly forgot to leave in time for her shift at the bookstore. She hastily gathered up her things and ran downstairs.
The church bell started to toll before she had made it in the door. Her supervisor, an elderly lady with thick glasses and a perpetual frown clicked her tongue as Ashe threw her bag behind the counter and clipped her nametag to her sweater. She had forgotten she was wearing the black one with the holes in it that barely covered her band t-shirt underneath. This warranted another tongue-click from her supervisor. The bookstore was nearly dead, only a few red-eyed students wandering between high stacks of shelves, no doubt looking for books they should have picked up at the start of the semester.
The door opened with a rush of cold air and a student Ashe vaguely recognized walked in. It took a moment for her to place him as the man who had nodded at her on campus only a day ago. Today he was wearing a long wool coat like the kind Peter often wore and his sleek black hair looked disheveled as if he had recently woken up. He smiled as he saw her looking at him. Ashe averted her eyes and busied herself with the inventory list.
The student came up to the counter, drumming his long, slender fingers against its edge. “Ashe, right?”
Ashe looked up in surprise. The student gestured at her nametag.
“Did you need something?” she asked.
“I only wanted to introduce myself. I’m Landon.” He held out his hand to shake but Ashe ignored it. He shrugged and put his hand back on the counter.
“You’re friends with Peter, right?” he asked. The way he said this made Ashe think he was a friend of Peter’s as well, though she couldn’t recall seeing the two of them together before.
“Yeah,” Ashe replied. “He’s my mythology tutor.”
Landon chuckled. “Of course he is. It’s always been his best subject.”
Ashe went back to checking the inventory list. She was supposed to be working, not talking, and she could feel the sharp glare of her supervisor coming from behind a stack of books to her left.
“But he’s not just your friend, is he?” Landon asked with a raise of his eyebrow.
Ashe tried to not let her embarrassment show. “Like I said, he’s my tutor.”
“He’s told me a lot about you,” Landon said in a low voice. “Really, you’re all he talks about.”
Ashe couldn’t help but feel a swell of hope at these words, though her face remained a mask. Maybe she and Peter had a shot of being together after all.
Landon glanced over at Ashe’s supervisor before leaning in towards Ashe and whispering, “Don’t let his words fool you. Deep down he’s shy and unsure of himself. I think he only needs a nudge in the right direction to make him see that he doesn’t need to hide his feelings for you.”
He leaned away just as Ashe’s supervisor started making a beeline straight for the counter. The depth of her scowl gave Ashe no doubt that she was about to kick Landon out.
Landon smiled at the old woman, then at Ashe, and left the store with a skip in his step. Ashe watched the door close behind him, feeling all at once excited and terrified at the idea of tempting Peter to forget his duties as her tutor. She knew she could manage Professor Sharp’s class on her own. She didn’t need Peter to help her study. She needed him to be hers.
CHAPTER 5
Peter’s phone buzzed loudly against the wooden top of the dresser. Peter groaned and sat up. He was both exhausted and jittery and his stomach was making obscene noises as it called for Peter to feed.
He picked up the phone. “Hello?” he grumbled.
“Can I come over?” Ashe asked. She didn’t sound upset, but rather there was an almost singsong quality to her voice. She seemed happy.
But Peter had no intention of inviting her to his house and he didn’t think he was up for meeting her anyway. “Sorry,” he replied. “The place is still a mess from the move and I’m supposed to take care of some errands.”
He lurched through the hallway and into the kitchen. The plastic shopping bag David had dropped by the house was still sitting on the counter. There were maybe five or six bags of blood inside, not nearly enough to tide the clan over. Peter forced himself not to take one of the bags.
“Please,” Ashe pleaded. “I need help with this book I’m reading. I’ve been trying to understand it on my own but no matter how many times I read the chapter I just can’t wrap my head around it.”
She really did sound like she was trying and Peter had a responsibility to help her. He found himself digging through the plastic bag on the counter with his free hand as he replied, “I guess I could make some time for you. But I can’t stay long.”
“Great,” Ashe replied. Peter couldn’t remember her sounding so happy. She must have finally become motivated to do well in Sharp’s class.
Peter took a glass from the cupboard. “But you can’t come to th
e house. I’ll meet you on campus. The student center okay?”
“Meet me in the music building. I found a study room we can use,” Ashe told him as he filled the glass with blood.
Peter said goodbye and hung up. He tried not to picture Ashe’s face as he drank the contents of the glass in his hand, but it was no use. His desire was too strong. He could imagine the feel of his lips against the soft skin of her neck, and then his teeth, followed by the warm rush of life flowing from her veins into his. The thought both disgusted and excited him. He promised himself he would not lose control as he walked from his house back to campus.
The music building was quiet today and Ashe was waiting for him at the front doors. Despite the cold she wore tight jeans with slash marks all the way up her thighs and a form-fitting sweater that couldn’t have done much to ward against the cold. She smiled at him and took his arm. Peter gulped, feeling his hands grow clammy as he followed her into the building.
This time, instead of going up to the roof, which was now inaccessible, Ashe led him into a small study room off the main hallway in the basement. It held little more than a desk and a single chair, and couldn’t have been much bigger than a broom closet. It looked like it had once been a music practice room that had since been turned into a makeshift study room. Peter supposed that an enterprising music student had done so years ago.
Peter held his breath as Ashe squeezed past him and went to the desk.
“You can sit here,” she said, offering Peter the only chair in the room. The book that Ashe had apparently been struggling with was already open on the desk. Ashe leaned against the desk off to the side, not having a place of her own to sit.
Peter tried to ignore the sound of her beating heart echoing through the tiny room as he looked at the page.
Ashe leaned over him and circled the passage with the capped end of a pen she was holding. He could almost smell her blood through her skin. “It’s this part that I’m confused about. It starts talking about witches and vampire lore and in a lot of places it’s hard to determine between the two. Like this part about staking witches through the heart and the Albanian witch that drinks blood. But Professor Sharp wants us to talk about the two as separate myths and I don’t know where to draw the line.”
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