A Vampire's Thirst : Markus

by Solease M Barner

  “Blood-mate? I’m not interested in a damn blood-mate. Whatever the hell that is. Shit, I just want this thirst to stop.” He couldn’t have cared less about a true love; he only wanted the blood lust to cease, so he could go back to the way he was before.

  “I’ve been reading about this. Now just listen before you reject what I’m saying.” He crossed the room to sit with Markus. “Now, if this thirst is as bad as you say, and if when you were near the witches you caught a scent that made it worse, and made you want very badly to get to the scent, you have found your blood-mate.”

  Markus shook his head, confused.

  “All that sounds great to someone who cares, but I don’t. The only thing I want is to find that scent.”

  “That means finding her and acknowledging she’s your blood-mate. Only that can stop the thirst.”

  Shock pounded into him, for if his close friend was right, which he didn’t doubt, then his blood-mate could be a witch. He returned to the bar for another drink and took it straight from the bottle. This was turning out worse than he could have imagined.

  “Floyd, let’s forget all that. You can go track her down for me. She’s not alone, and these witches are strong, they cloaked themselves and even stopped me from coming into their place.”

  “I’m on it, but think about what I said.”

  He stood and walked towards the door. Markus stayed near the window; he was thinking about going to find a willing donor, but he decided against it. He didn’t want to hurt anyone, and right now, he couldn’t guarantee that he wouldn’t.

  “I’m not going to think about anything except you finding them, and me securing that sweet essence for myself.”

  Floyd left without another word, and Markus took the bottle with him to his office. If he threw himself into work, maybe he could forget about the thirst, and most of all, forget what Floyd said about him having a mate.

  He had been working for a couple of hours when he got a text from Floyd saying he thought he could track their whereabouts soon. He didn’t respond. The only thing he needed to know was if Floyd had found them, not that he would.

  He continued to down O positive bags, one after the other, until he made himself stop with a supreme effort of will. The thirst was so strong now; it was even stronger than it had been when he was first turned. He looked at an email from one of his managers about the meeting he was scheduled to attend tomorrow evening. He didn’t think he would be able to sit in a meeting with humans and not attack them. It was bad business to suck everyone dry. His only option was to put blood in a cup, and hope he could drink it slowly without looking like a lush. Though he was not big on impressing people, when it came down to two billion dollars, he would do a little impressing.

  He sent a confirming email, with instructions on the blood as well. Then his cell rang. When he saw it wasn’t Floyd, he allowed it to go to voicemail.

  Needing something to do with his time without going to get a donor, or calling one over, he decided on a run. As he was pounding away on his treadmill, at the highest speed and maximum inclination, he realized with a pang that his life was so boring that all he could think of to do was run.

  His cell rang again while he was running. It was the same number as before, so he answered, and when he recognized the voice, he wished he could crawl into a hole and pull it in after him.

  “Hello, Markus, are you dodging my calls?” The woman’s voice was soft, but he knew different. She was far from soft.

  Vivien Green was an agent of The Directive, and one of his least favorite people. Her job was to go round and check on the supers. A dark beauty of medium height with soft, glossy skin, short wavy hair and hazel eyes, her appearance gave no clue to the hardness beneath. Looking at her in person would make any man want her, but he was not any man, and he knew how deadly she was. She was a wolf, with the same speed, the same taste for the red liquid as a vampire.

  “I do apologize,” he responded, hoping to placate her enough that she would leave him alone. “My mind has been elsewhere.” He thanked the gods she was not at his door; prematurely, as it turned out with her next words.

  “Well, I’m glad that I decided to stop at your home. Open the door.”

  She was literally a wolf in sheep’s clothing. He didn’t say anything, because he could feel the thirst rising up in him and he couldn’t let her know, Vivien Green was part of The Directive and he didn’t want them in his business. Ever since he had had to spend those months locked away without any blood, they made it their mission to impose on his life, and he hated it.

  He opened the door and she greeted him with a smile. She walked in, holding a bag of what he assumed were files on him.

  “I could have sworn you were here a few months back.” He couldn’t help but express surprise at the early visit. They usually checked in on him every few years, not every few months.

  She ignored his statement and looked around his place, sniffing the air.

  “You have been entertaining a lot, Mr. Black. I’m sure all the women are alive,” she said, deadpan.

  “You know all the women are alive.” He could hear the agitation in his voice, and gritted his teeth. He needed her to think everything was normal.

  “You would do well to remember that you brought this upon yourself with your reckless behavior,” she said.

  He couldn’t believe she would bring up something that had happened over a hundred years ago. And it only happened because he had been new to the life and uneducated about the rules. He knew he was an asshole, but he never did anything to upset The Directive. He needed to correct this, and fast.

  “Ms Green, I’ve been a little on edge because of a big deal I’m trying to close, but it’s no excuse to be rude. Please, let me make you a drink.” He waved toward the bar.

  “Yes, Mr. Black, a drink would be nice. Gin and tonic, thanks.” She took a seat on the sofa, watching him as he made her drink. He handed her the glass and sat in the chair across from her.

  “How was your trip?” he asked, to make conversation.

  “It was okay, but to be honest I’m here because there have been whispers about witches on the run.”

  He looked at her, trying not to give away how deeply he was shocked by her words. Was she here for him, he wondered, or the witches? He hoped she was just checking on some random rumors, and not following the witches. He needed to find them before anyone else did. He meant them no harm, but he couldn’t guarantee that The Directive didn’t. They had their rules, and if you became a problem, their solution was usually to terminate.

  He took a sip of his drink, buying time. “Witches, wow, didn’t think we were in the business of dealing with the witches.”

  “Yes, well we do when a couple of covens plan on trying to raise some powerful ancestors from the grave. Have you heard anything?”

  Here came the trap. He could tell just by looking at her that she already knew he knew about the witches in the city. The problem was, he hadn’t asked any questions about the witches.

  “I did rent to some witches last night, but they left before 24 hours. I’m not sure where they went.”

  “Well, that’s interesting, did something happen?” Her question was not out of line, but if he said he went to the place twice and tried to enter, it could be bad for him.

  He was always aware that The Directive still considered him a threat, so he couldn’t tell her he had caught a scent from the witches. He was not sure if it would be assumed that he would harm them, even though from what he could tell The Directive didn’t want the witches getting more power. Witches had their own rules, which often conflicted with those imposed by The Directive.

  “I’m not sure if something happened, but I’ll find out if it did.” He lied to her with no regret. He was already irritated by her presence.

  She stood, prompting him to stand as well. She walked slowly toward the door, and just as he thought she was going to leave without saying any more, she spun around to face him. They were mere
inches apart, and he took a reflexive step back.

  “Mr. Black, don’t disappoint me. If you hear anything about the witches, call me.” She stared hard at him, and then out of nowhere, gave him a big smile. She was trying to come across as friendly, but he knew better.

  “You will be the first person I call, Ms. Green.”

  “Oh, call me Vivien, after all I’ve known you for a very long time.”

  He opened the door for her and she nodded her thanks, then walked down the hall to the elevator. Once she disappeared inside the cabin, he slammed the door.

  “Why the hell am I going through this shit?” he said to the empty room.

  He stamped out onto the balcony, letting the night air soothe his temper. As he was about to call Floyd, a text appeared.

  I’ve located the witches.

  Send me your location I’m coming to you

  As soon as Floyd sent him the details, he was off - moving in the high-speed vampire run that removed the need for a vehicle. He was standing next to Floyd in less than five minutes.

  “Where is she? I need to see her.” He couldn’t stop moving, anxious to get to the smell.

  “You can’t go up to her, the house is cloaked, and the only reason I found her is because of a realtor I’ve been with a few times,” Floyd said, with a huge grin.

  “You do business with another realtor? Never mind, we’ll discuss that another time, but right now I need to know how I’m getting into that house.” He focused on the house, and wished he could walk right in, but he knew all too well what happened when you tried to break a witch’s spell.

  “You could use mind compulsion, get a human to do the dirty work.” Floyd nodded to himself, looking smug.

  He looked at his good friend, wishing he could regain his sense of clarity. He used to be able to think on his feet, but now he felt as if his mind was running slower.

  “You know, that’s a great idea, even though I don’t really like using mind compulsion. I’m a desperate man.”

  “You’re more than desperate, it’s almost a little pathetic, but who am I to judge? I’ve done some crazy shit in my life, too.”

  “This is not just some crazy shit, like I’m going to get past this and then move on, every second I’m going through this thirst I feel a little of me slipping away. It’s changing me, Floyd, soon there won’t be any of me left, I can feel it, so it’s do or die.”

  Floyd didn’t respond. He was staring in shock. It was the first time Markus had admitted out loud that he thought he was losing his mind to the point of life and death. And even though he was technically dead, he didn’t ever want to do the dying thing again.

  “I’m trying to help you,” said Floyd, “so turn down the grim shit and get ready to win over your blood-mate.”

  “Yeah, but…”

  “No buts, you get on with the mind compulsion, while I text a lady friend of mine.”

  He couldn’t believe that, in the midst of all this, his friend still had the time to text some woman.

  “I might be able to overlook your betraying me with another realtor, if this works,” he said, looking around for a human he could use.

  “I know, it’s a great idea, right? Admit it, I’m the shit.”

  Markus narrowed his eyes at his friend, but then turned his attention to a young woman taking a run with her dog. If he used her, she would be less suspect to the witches.

  He shot over to her fast, pulling her into an alley. He stared into her eyes, calming her before she could scream. Then he started giving her instructions on what she was going to do for him. The woman relaxed and nodded, agreeing to do as he asked.

  He returned to Floyd, and settled down to watch.

  The young woman walked up to the door and began crying, then knocked on the door. Then she opened the door, the one with the scent. The witch with the scent. He smelled her aroma and moved, but Floyd had him pinned to the ground. He tried to escape, but Floyd was not giving him a chance.

  She was beautiful, and Markus was angry that his friend was keeping him away from her. The scent filling his nose was delicious, nothing like he’d ever smelt before. He admired her long brown hair; the soft brown eyes and huge breasts were a plus.

  He stopped fighting Floyd as he realized the plan was working, then before she stepped outside, she looked around outside, and then looked at the lady. With bated breath, he listened to the questions.

  “Excuse me, you said you had two dogs and one got away? What street was that on?” his delicious witch asked.

  The woman began to stutter, and he knew the jig was up. He broke free from Floyd, moving quickly to the steps of the house.

  They looked at each other for a few seconds. The need to touch her was overpowering. He shot toward the door, but she slammed it just before he reached her.

  “I’m not going to hurt you; you know that, right?” There was no response.

  “Please,” he called. “I know the covens are looking for you, and now The Directive is after you as well. I can help you.” When he reached to touch the door, he could feel the energy radiating from the house.

  “Miss, please! I know you’re here with some other witches, but hold off from telling them about me being here, or they’ll move you. I’d find you, but I want to keep you safe.”

  Still she didn’t reply to him, and the terrible thirst had him licking his lips and trying to retract his fangs. Now he thought about it, his fangs must have been showing and frightened her; that was why she had closed the door.

  “I apologize about the fangs, you make me nervous and that’s why they came out, but not to scare you.”

  He stood there hoping she would respond, but still there was nothing. Floyd was beckoning for him; the fact she was not opening the door was a sure sign the others were on their way back.

  “I’m Markus Black,” he said into the silence, still faintly hoping she would speak to him.

  He began to walk down the stairs with a heavy heart. He would have to live with the thirst another day. As his foot touched the last step, she yelled through the door.

  “Rachel Jones.”

  He turned and rushed back to the door, skidding to a halt just before he touched it.

  “Thank you, Rachel Jones. You and I have unfinished business, but I’ll be back.”

  He zipped away with Floyd, far enough that the others would not notice their presence. Once they were out of sight, he decided to fly (given the fact he had the ability of flying only because it’s assumed his sire passed it down to him.) to the top of the building across the street and watch from the roof. Floyd followed, and they perched on the roof and settled down to watch Rachel Jones’ house.

  “She’s mine. I have to get her away from the other witches.” He spoke out loud, but for himself.

  “Man, you’ve found your blood-mate, that shit is cool as hell.”

  He looked at his friend out of the corner of his eye, ignoring his comment. He was more focused on the fact that her sweet ambrosia sang to him. It was a call to his soul, and if that meant blood-mating he would do it, but if he could have a taste of her to stop the blood lust, that would make him happier than anything.

  “I’m going to get her out of that house and keep her safe.”

  “So are you finally admitting she’s the one?” His friend stood and walked to the other side of the flat roof, looking down at the humans walking by on the street below.

  “I admit nothing, except that she is calling and I need to answer.”

  With that, he jumped off the roof, flying through the city, eager to figure out a plan to get to Rachel Jones. The cure to his bloodlust.

  Chapter Five

  Rachel was pacing the floor over what had just taken place. She couldn’t believe she had given him her name, but she had, and that could lead to all sorts of things. His name popped into her head. Markus Black, she repeated again, admiring how the name fitted him.

  He was a lot more attractive than she’d expected a vampire to be. He w
as not perfect, though; he had tried to trick her into stepping out of her home, using an innocent woman. She was glad she had spelled the woman to go straight home, and that she had also done a protection spell on her, in case he was planning to harm her.

  “Damn it,” she said. “I should have given him a false name.” She looked out the window, hoping to see her aunts. She knew they would be returning soon, and they needed to know that The Directive was searching for them, as well as the covens. The only problem with telling them that information was that she would need to tell them how she knew. She couldn’t see any way of telling them without mentioning the vampire Markus Black, and that wasn’t going to go over well at all. The vampire had told her to keep quiet about him, but the question she must ask herself was whether it was for a selfish reason, or whether he really did want to keep her safe.

  As she walked out of the living area, the door opened and her aunts burst into the room, laden with bags of food.

  “Rach, we’re home!” Maxine screamed.

  “Come get these bags from me, I’m old,” yelled Paula.

  She took a deep breath, then turned and walked back. She relieved her aunts of most of the bags and took them straight to the kitchen. She prayed that they wouldn’t notice anything strange.

  “Rach, darling, you seem a little nervous. Is everything okay?” Maxine asked. She was always the more curious of the two, the one who noticed everything.

  “It’s fine, don’t worry. I’ll put the food away. Are we getting furniture tonight?” she asked, hoping to deflect the questions away from her.

  “We already did but had to use magic. All the furniture stores are closed, but I needed to be in a bed tonight or I’d start turning people into frogs,” Paula said, an edge to her tone.

  She laughed. After all the groceries were put away, she decided to make them a late snack. She could hear her aunts guiding in the delivery men with the furniture as she made some sandwiches and chilled a bottle of wine.

  After all the furniture was in place and they had eaten, everyone went to bed. The aunts were both happy to be sleeping in a safe home that no one knew about, but Rachel was uncomfortably aware that someone did know about it, and that he also knew who they were. Once he revealed that he knew the covens were after her, the only possible response had been to give her name, at least. She might have to use him to get information. Still, he was a vampire who drank blood. Her level of trust in him, or any vampire, wasn’t high to begin with, yet he could perhaps find out more about The Directive looking for them. The situation was serious, and could cost not only her life, but the lives of others. For now, the sexy Markus was not a friend, and she’d treat him like a foe. He had tried to deceive her once, and that meant he might try again.