We walked to the shadows and the boy searched for the street sign as I walked close to him. He pointed towards a sign. “Oh, there is the street ya need.”
He turned towards me, but I pushed him up against the brick building behind him and placed my hand over his mouth for him not to scream. The hood on my cloak fell back as I turned his head, looking to his neck where I could see the skin faintly beating from his heart. I stroked it, looking it over, feeling the beating below it, the blood rushing to that area. All the hairs on him stood at attention, the skin flushing warm and tingling.
I leaned into him, my fangs feeling heavy in my mouth, easily sinking into the skin as I bit down. The liquid scorched my tongue, as if I had drunk a cup of tea too quickly, not letting it cool. I didn’t taste anything at first, but as the fluid continued to fill my mouth, I started to taste a sweet, irony substance, slipping through my teeth, over my tongue and down my throat. My stomach and throat burned as it glided down, the feeling making me want to faint, though I kept my composure, holding the boy up, even as he struggled.
I could only compare the experience to when Vincent and I first made love. It was painful at first, but the pain seemed to dull away to an immense pleasure that wasn’t even measurable. Even the iron taste seemed to disappear. Only velvet sweetness took its place.
I had to pull away. I fell back as blood poured down my chin, the boy falling to the ground before me.
Vincent ran over to me, blood soaking his lips and teeth, he had obviously taken care of the customer. His eyes went to the boy before he turned to me. “He is still alive Annalee, you need to drink more.”
I turned to him, nearly crying, falling to my knees. “I cannot! I cannot take anymore!”
He ran up to me. “You have to! His heart cannot beat! He will recover more quickly than you think and then he will be a witness to what we are. Drink!”
He got down on his knees, grabbing the boy and biting his wrist, pushing the wound up toward me. I stared at it for a moment before I reluctantly grabbed it, latching onto it, feeling his heartbeat through his veins as they clanged against my fangs painfully. I listened intently, the beating of his heart ceasing before I let go, throwing the boys dead limb away from me. I turned, coughing, nearly vomiting what I had taken back up.
Vincent grabbed hold of me, pulling me to my feet before he lifted me up into his arms.
Chapter Nineteen
The Countess
He brought me back to the manor, my new home.
I lay on his bed on my side, the blood running through me, sudden flashes coming over me, making me dizzy, my eyes firmly shut. On top of that, my body would suddenly tense, pain rocking through me from the violent body aches. It was hot and painful, sweat running down my forehead, beading on my body as I held my stomach, my forehead against Vincent’s shoulder.
Vincent’s head was on top of mine, holding me against him. He had helped me change out of my gown and into my nightgown.
“It will pass,” he whispered. “I remember when I went through it, I remember the pain. Soon it won’t be painful, sooner than you think. It comes quickly.”
He kissed my forehead, his lips feeling cold, which felt nice.
I felt my body heave and stifled a moan. “Tell me—tell me about it again. Tell me how you turned, tell it like you did the first time, pretend I don’t know.” I felt a violent shudder rip through me.
His brow furrowed. “All right. Back in America, one hundred years ago when I was twenty-five, you know my mother died. After her funeral my father flew into a drunken rage and began to beat me. I told him he could not treat me as he did my mother and that he was the death of her. Of course, this angered him more and he lunged towards me, but I fought back. I grabbed a knife from the table and stabbed him. He died in front of me and…I felt no remorse.”
I imagined him lunging forward with the knife in his hand. I imagined the knife piercing the skin, the blood flowing out. Blood…thick, warm…
Vincent sighed, cutting me off from my thoughts. “I was running through a field trying to escape the villagers who were in pursuit of me, running into Christos. I cannot remember why he was there in that field…or perhaps I do. I think he was there searching for his evening meal. He preferred virgins.
“Sometimes, I remember his dirtied hair and thick Greek accent like he is standing before me. Sometimes, it comforts me. And, sometimes, I cannot even put together his facial features…and that comforts me.
“He promised me eternal life, youth, money, power. I was young and foolish and gladly accepted it to escape being beheaded for my father’s murder. I never knew how or what it meant for him to give me those things. He left me in a cold cellar on some land he had purchased. He brought me a young girl, perhaps the same age as Miss O’Neil, and in a crazed hunger I fed off of her. He kept me like an animal, bringing me food, only letting me out when he wanted some brief company.”
After a silence I looked up to him. “I love you.”
He laughed. “The feeling is mutual. I love you. But, I really do wish we did this the proper way. At least I know you will not be locked in a cellar for months on end.” He frowned lightly, looking my face over.
I sighed as I felt the burning continue through me, squinting harshly as I winced in pain. “It feels like everything is set on fire…”
He nodded. “I know. But, as I said, sooner than you think it will be gone. Only a few days of this, I promise you. Your body will get used to it all.”
I nodded, closing my eyes again. I felt my feet start to go cold and numb. “Afterwards, tell me about afterwards.”
“Christos started to let me out of the cellar, but only when he was in a good mood. I think he wanted company. Well, I began looking about his home. I could read, so I read his books, which interested me in art, so I began admiring his art. I learned quite a bit and found a lot of my present interests that way. He taught me to write, which was not easy, and he also taught me how to play the piano.
“One evening he went to town, Salem, and a mob grabbed hold of him and accused him of witchcraft. They had found out he was stealing the young girls, though they believed he was using them in Satanic rituals.” He laughed lightly. “Of course, they were to feed me, as well as himself. However, no one at the time knew where I was, except a priest Christos knew. He knew of me, but not exactly who I was.
“Christos was burned at the stake in front of all the spectators, the jeering crowd. The priest found me in Christos’ castle, following Christos’ wishes after his unfortunate demise. I was handed over all the fortune he had stacked up, the deed to the land, the castle. I sold what I could, took what I could and fled. I decided to make my own life.”
I really thought about it. Yes, there was a proper way for Vincent and I to have turned me into a vampire. But, as he said, at least I wasn’t caged away in a dungeon. I wondered if Vincent had the choice…
I let my head fall into him, letting myself completely fall against him. I didn’t want to think about it.
It took a few hours for the burning to finally subside. The body aches went from being every few seconds to every thirty or so seconds, then every minute, then I lost track and they just stopped.
I was still sweaty and extremely tired. I wanted to sleep, but I was too aware of everything around me. I was hearing all the sounds of the manor, the servants speaking, washing dishes, cooking food, cleaning up the kitchen. I must have fallen asleep because I suddenly awoke, my eyes opening and I surprisingly felt very alert.
I sat up in the bed, Vincent gone from my side. I glanced around the room and swallowed hard. All I heard was silence.
I smiled. Finally.
I got up, walking over to the fireplace before I turned and saw my little toilette case on Vincent’s large Italian desk to my right. I opened it up, searching through it, finding my barrette. I looked it over, the smooth curved, oval shaped wooden hair accessory, smiling lightly as I remembered it holding back my straight hair.
&nb
sp; I sat down at the desk, peering into the looking-glass, looking over my hair, which was no longer straight. It was still wavy, thick and gorgeous, except for around my hairline, where it was sweaty.
I frowned, gathering as much of it as I could, securing it back with my barrette. It didn’t hold as tightly as I wanted it to, like it used to, due to the thickness of it. I shrugged because it still looked beautiful.
I turned to see Vincent in the doorway, holding a book in his hand.
“Ah, you are up. Do you feel any better?” He walked up to me, looking me over.
I nodded. “A little.”
“Well, you slept another day away, so I would hope so.”
“A whole day?” I asked, my voice surprising me still, very soft, very feminine. Was it like this before?
He nodded. “It is now Friday evening. Not to worry, not only do you need the rest, but it also gave me time to sort some things out. Also, the inspector sent me a letter, wants to speak to me again. I would not be surprised if it is about your body going missing at the mausoleum. Perhaps, now I will be labeled as a grave robber.”
He walked over to the bed and sat on the end of it, almost delighted at the thought of being labeled as such.
I took in his attire. His hair was neatly pulled back as always, all the strands were perfectly aligned. He was not wearing his waistcoat, his blouse loose around his neck, the large sleeves hanging off of his broad shoulders. I could see every move in the fabric from his muscle, from his skin reacting to the fabric. It held my attention for quite some time.
“I have packed away your things with mine, except your toilette case, I thought you would need it when you woke. I do not think anyone will really seek out your things among my own, but I have hidden them well. I figured we would move to a town just south of here. It is small, but I had purchased land there before I decided to come to London.”
His voice seemed a little distant as I continued to stare, looking from his chest to his neck, then to his face, where my eyes sat for a long while. Then I blinked myself out of the dreamy state, turning to the fire, my back to him. “I suppose it is a town that has never heard of Annalee Harding?”
He was up in a flash, up by my side, kneeling beside me. Even with my new pair of eyes, I still couldn’t make out his movements or catch him walking over to me. “They have not heard of Countess Annalee Moor either.”
“Countess?”
He smiled. “I thought it had a nice ring to it.” He stood, taking his book from the mantle and walking over to the bed, sitting on it once again.
I stood, walking in front of him, my nightgown swaying. “So you are an Earl now?”
“With the right amount of money I can be anything I wish, darling. We could be a duke and duchess if you wish. Technically, it is befitting. After all, my father was a duke. I would have taken his title, if I hadn’t been the one to kill him and the villagers had not found out.”
He smiled as he slid back on the bed, sitting against the pillows. He patted beside him, motioning for me to sit with him.
“I have not quite got the paper work all in order yet, though I like the sound of Vincent Moor, Earl of Whittley. I won the title in a game of Faro.”
I smiled as I sat on the bed beside him, curling up into him. “When do we leave?”
“Oh, do not worry about that,” he said, stroking my hair. “I will have everything in order before you know it. I want to give you enough time to adjust, have the withdrawals subside.”
“Withdrawals?” I asked, looking up to him.
He nodded. “Yes. The pain you experience is not only from getting used to your body absorbing the blood, but also from your body using the blood. Once your body has used it all, you go through a withdrawal. It only lasts a few days, you get used to it quickly. Your body adjusts. Being a vampire comes in handy that way.”
I thought about it, understanding slightly because of my father’s occupation. I knew of going through painful withdrawals from certain drugs. I sighed. “I guess it is a lot easier to be close to me now.”
“It was easy before,” he said, holding me tighter. “Once I knew I loved you, touching you and being so intimate with you was not a problem. I wish we had more time when you were mortal to enjoy it. Though, this way you can experience the things I enjoy doing.”
“Killing?” I asked.
“Yes,” he smiled. “Once the pain stops, you will learn to enjoy it. You will even learn how to enjoy toying with them before you sink your teeth in.”
“How did I taste? Did it satisfy you like you had hoped?” I looked up to him. It was one of the few thoughts I remember from before I passed on.
“It was bittersweet,” he sighed. “I was rushed, angered and starved. It felt amazing to have your scent, which has always been something so tempting, materialize into that crimson liquid and have a taste you wouldn’t believe.” He kept his eyes on my mouth before he turned and sighed heavily once again. “But, I was rushed, I was angered, I was starved, so I did not do things as I wish I had.”
“How did you want things to be done?”
“Well, from when you asked me about it, that night…I had imagined I would make love to you afterwards, even before. I wish I could have experienced that one more time, making love to you as a mortal.”
I could only imagine what he felt when we did. Everything was so magnified. It must have been intense for him.
“You did not answer my question, did it satisfy you?” I was hoping his eyes would meet mine, but they instead went back to my mouth, staring.
“No. It didn’t. I still want you and probably more now than ever because I had a taste.”
“But, now blood does not run through my veins.”
“Ah, not true, it does indeed run through you. After every meal it makes its way through each part of your body.”
“So, you could bite me again?” I asked, smiling lightly.
He smiled also, nodding. “It is possible. Christos and I spoke of it once. I always assumed it would be erotic. Especially if it were to be with one you made yourself. It would be like taking from your own.”
“Would you ever?”
He smiled again. “If you wanted to try it, but perhaps when you are fully adjusted. Not quite yet.”
I smiled lightly, but frowned looking down to his chest. “My father…will he be all right?”
He nodded. “He will. Death is a part of life, darling. It is…sad that he had to experience it as he did. He loves you so very much. You were his entire world, as you are mine. It is a pity we could not share you. I guess we were both selfish.”
I licked my lips and frowned again. I felt slightly dizzy, my eyes finding it hard to focus. I sighed, shaking my head.
“What is wrong?” he asked, pulling me away from him, looking me over.
“I am…dizzy, very dizzy,” I said.
I suddenly felt my stomach start to burn, the scorching feeling making its way up my throat and into my lungs. I began to cough violently, almost vomiting.
“What is happening to me?” I called out between coughs.
“We need to get you fed,” Vincent said as he quickly scooped me up in his arms.
I felt my eyes filling with tears, I looked up at the ceiling, the coughing making my throat and lungs hurt. “This is what it feels like to be hungry?”
He laughed a little. “Until you adjust, yes. Your body goes through withdrawal and then needs to be replenished.”
He carried me through the house, not bothering to even get me out of my nightgown. I found comfort being cradled in Vincent’s arms as he carried me swiftly through the fields and then to the roads and into town.
I couldn’t help feeling slightly afraid—this was the second time I would experience feeding. The pain was excruciating though all I could think about was fulfilling the obvious need I had to drink more blood. I knew that would stop the pain and I needed it as soon as possible. In a way it made the want for the blood more intense. I not only wanted it,
I also needed it.
We stood in the shadows of one of the shops, Vincent placing me down gently and holding onto me tightly as my face cringed in pain, a sharp stabbing sensation now picking at my stomach.
Vincent’s eyes quickly jumped around, looking through the fading darkness. “Do you think you can walk?”
I shook my head. “I do not think so.”
“I will need to lead someone over,” he said. His eyes came to me, raising my chin. “I will be right back.”
I nodded as he quickly left me in the shadows. I let my back rest against the wall behind me as I felt another wave of dizziness overcome me. I suddenly felt like I was going to vomit, gagging slightly. I swallowed quickly, trying to take deep breaths, shaking my head. I was not going to vomit.
I turned my head as it rest against the cold wall, watching as Vincent ran over to a man who was exiting a pub. The man seemed nervous, a little tall, very thin, thinner than Vincent. I didn’t even need to strain to hear them.
“Excuse me sir, could you come and help me? My wife has taken ill. I do not know what is wrong,” Vincent said, worry in his voice.
The man’s eyes moved around nervously, but nodded as Vincent turned and began to break out into a slight run towards me. I knew I already looked ill, but it came naturally to try and play it up. They ran over to me, Vincent trying not to smile.
“What is wrong exactly?” The man looked me over, reaching out to my hand. “Oh dear, are you all right?”
I pulled myself forward, the burning in my stomach and throat making me wail out in pain as I fell into his arms. The man glanced down to me as I wrapped my arms around him and pulled myself up to his level, straightening myself out. I grabbed hold of his neck and caught a glimpse of Vincent behind him, who stood in the shadows smirking, his green embers burning in the darkness.
I leaned down and pulled his neck violently, biting into the same spot as I had the boy earlier in the night. The sweet, hot liquid began spurting out. It flowed lightly at first, but as the burning sensation began to strengthen in my stomach I began to clamp down harder making the flow like a geyser. It gushed into my mouth, silkily making its way down my throat and comforting the burning in my stomach and lungs.
Out of My Grave Page 23