by Brandon Hill
Several droplets of blood spilled from her mouth when she removed her hands. These were followed by her human canines, now replaced by fangs that were fully extended and visible below her pale gums. The change was complete.
“It’s…It’s going away,” she whispered, her voice weak and faint. She looked at me with bleary eyes and smiled. “You were right. It hurt, but it wasn’t as bad as withdrawal.”
I smiled back as she licked her still red lips with a pale tongue. “Oh, God…my God, I’m…so thirsty.”
Hurriedly, I went for the case of blood packs. I removed one from the steel container, its surface cold from the dry ice used to package it, and pressed it to her hands. “Drink,” I said with urgency. The thirst of the newly Turned was powerful, and she could have broken through the door to seek out a human if I did not quickly slake it. “Hurry.”
Amelia stared at the bag at first, hesitant with confusion and near disgust, not understanding how to open it, and with her human side balking at the idea of having to drink blood. But when she sniffed at it, all her reservations evaporated.
I saw her eyes flash with an all-too-familiar feral light. Her fangs tore into it with fierce gusto and she emptied its contents in one draft, swallowing loudly and rhythmically as she drained the contents of the pack.
I felt her exquisite, indescribable pleasure at that first drink overtake her as her eyes rolled back. She mewled in near-orgasmic delight, falling back upon the bed, her body twisting and undulating as if the liquid were making love to her from the inside. Amelia was completely oblivious to the speed at which she drained the bag, and when she at last noticed, she let out a lilting noise of frustration.
“You notice how good blood tastes to us, hm?” I said with some amusement.
“That was blood?” Amelia was panting from the effects of her first drink. She stared at the empty plastic bag, and for the first time, noticed the writing upon its label. “Good God! That felt better than what you did to me last night! Is that what drinking blood does to you?”
“It does the same to all of us,” I said. “And that was probably the most tasteless of any blood you could drink. It’s refrigerated and preserved, strictly for emergencies.”
“You’re kidding!”
“You’ll eventually learn that I’m not,” I said, “but it’s too early to have you practice with humans.”
“I want more,” Amelia pleaded. She controlled the tone of her voice, but I felt her thoughts. They cried out for more like a junkie looking for his next fix. She was newly turned, and I would not deny her yet. For now, she needed to become strong. Training to control her thirst and her powers would come soon enough.
She finished three more bags after the one I gave her, and then settled heavily into the bed. The force of her movement released a loud belch from her. I watched with amusement as she turned red with embarrassment.
“I guess that means you’re full? I said, laughing as I settled beside her.
“Yeah,” Amelia said meekly. “I mean I don’t feel full, but I’m…I don’t know…satisfied, I guess. It’s really…” She frowned. “I wish I could describe it.”
“You’ll adjust,” I said, bringing her fingers to my lips. “You make a very beautiful vampire, you know?”
“I do?” She smiled.
“Oh, I forgot!” I said. “You never got the chance to see yourself in a mirror, did you?” With my other hand, I drew upon my Jewel and solidified the air into a flat, circular disk, rearranging the atoms behind the makeshift mirror to form a slate backing in order to make the surface of the ice reflective.
I let it float in front of Amelia as she examined herself. At first she gasped at the sight of her reflection, and then her free hand went to her cheek. She turned her head right, then left. Then she lifted her lips to view her now-retracted fangs. She winced when her sharp claws nicked her flesh, which healed quickly. She then examined her hands, her now-crimson eyes wide with wonder.
“Oh, wow!” she whispered, and I disintegrated the mirror into vapor.
“You’re more beautiful than ever,” I purred into her ear as I leaned forward.
“Wow, and this is when I’m naked,” Amelia said, giggling at the feel of my lips. Then suddenly, she stiffened.
“What is it?” I said, sensing the sudden alarm in her thoughts.
“I can feel you!”
“Of course you can feel me,” I said with a laugh as I nibbled absently at her earlobe.
“No, I mean, I can feel you! You’re more than just there; you’re…there! I can feel your… presence, I guess you would say: your love. Oh, Talante…do you really feel that way about me?”
So she was becoming aware of our ability to detect thoughts. I smiled, breaking off my play with her ear. Taking her other hand in mine, I touched my forehead to hers.
Now, you understand what you mean to me, I said, sending the thought deliberately to her. I let my entire heart pour out my emotions to her so she would know the full extent of my love. I felt the coolness of her skin warm with her awareness of what I sent, and saw the tears in her eyes.
I love you, my Amelia. My consummate host. My dearest, most precious love!
Her thoughts, steeped in love and roiling passion, could not form a coherent word, but her emotions were enough to satisfy me. I kissed her, and we fell into the bed. I tasted her, and she was no less sweet than before.
I felt the sting of her fangs into my neck, and felt her arms tighten around me as she moaned in the renewed bliss of the drink. My fangs pierced her neck in turn, and we fed deeply from each other, drowning in each other. Neither of us would satisfy the other physically this way, but through it we expressed our desire all the same. Our kind did this during love, a sharing of each other, in spite of our uselessness to each other as food. The taste and effects were no less potent than when feeding from a human, and the pleasure was just as devastating.
Upon the onset of morning we fell asleep in each other’s arms. The next night must have been a quiet night among my children, because there had been no disruptions the entire evening, which, after breakfasting upon the remaining blood packs, we spent testing each other’s preternatural stamina in bed.
By then, Amelia had drunk enough blood to offset her gauntness that I had caused in draining her blood to turn her. Her body was much warmer, and her soft skin had regained its suppleness as we had all we could of each other, erasing hour by hour the shame I felt at making her one of my children.
* * * *
At the breaking of the dawn, my shame had become gladness and a maddening desire to make permanent the bond I had sealed in blood. I resolved to seal it just as fully in vows as I gave Amelia her own Jewel: a diamond encrusted golden ring, along with a proposal she had never expected of me, but nonetheless accepted, her response enthusiastic, and given before I could even finish the question. I can only guess that she figured if she were to tie her destiny with me, then she would do it fully, folly or not.
In for a penny, in for a pound.
* * * *
Amelia showed little regret at leaving her mortal life, and took to my training with the passion of a zealot. I had always underestimated how happy she had been with me, as well as my happiness at being with her. Surely, I believed, it could not be folly to have such happiness after spending so incalculably long in loneliness.
I had never actually felt alone, truth be told, but when Amelia made herself part of my life, I became fully aware of just how solitary my existence had been, especially when she braved the withdrawal for our love’s sake. But I cannot help but ask myself, in such a time as this, in what could be the cusp of a time of attrition, the closest thing to an apocalypse for our kind, was it truly wise to bring Amelia into this? Despite our love, despite the array of powers at her disposal against our enemy, seeing her dead is still a very real possibility. Could I endure that?
Whether I can endure such a possibility or not, I have, as I said, forever bound Amelia’s fate with mine, and
she is happy. For now, I can only push aside these dark thoughts, and live together in happiness with Amelia for the time that we have together. Still, the future is uncertain. Attrition may well come, and I do not know what will become of us.
I feel this story has not yet ended, but of this, I can write no more.
THE END
About the Author
Brandon Hill is a native of Louisiana and current resident of Lafayette. An avid and frequent reader of science fiction and fantasy, he began writing in the 11th grade. He is a graduate of McNeese State University in Lake Charles.
Of himself:
“I am a ‘classic nerd’ and hopeless romantic who loves sci-fi and fantasy, and am a prolific writer who has had dreams of authorship since childhood. I sketch about as prolifically as I write, and have drawings of just about every character my warped imagination has come up with. I hope to continue sharing these ideas, characters, and stories with others for years to come.”