His words spark another bit of knowledge from who-knows-where. “Right, humans must give compensation for the gift they are given, but Nyx and Diasta know the joy of creation, and don’t wish to deprive humans of that joy completely. So, they decided they would each offer one child.”
He peers at me. “How do you know these things?”
I shrug. “Part of that was in my dream, but I’m really not sure. It comes to me in bits and pieces. Anyway, if you aren’t venomous, how does the turning work?”
His eyebrows draw down into a picture of intense concentration. “We have DNA that is dominant over human DNA. When we drink some of your blood, it depletes your supply, causing your body to produce more. When we give you some of our blood in return, the cells immediately start to reproduce. This first wave starts the changes, including growing your fangs. We take some more from you to make space for those cells, and you take some more from us to add even more of those special cells. Once a majority of cells in your body are vampiric, the true changes start.” He looks pleased with himself for having remembered all that.
“Like what?”
“Human illnesses are cured. Damage to your body is fixed. The vampiric cells are the picture of perfect health. They transfer these traits to the rest of your body as they take over your bones, muscles, and tissue. The slow aging and the lack of illnesses are part of our genetic makeup, which we pass along to those we turn.”
“So, does that mean your bloodline will replace mine? Will I no longer be related to my parents?” I don’t know how I feel about being ‘related’ to my mate.
Damien shakes his head. “I am not certain, Chérie. I only know the basics of the change. I am not a scientist. We can find out, if you’d like.”
We sit for a few moments in silence as I digest this information. I don’t really know if I want an answer to that question or not. Thankfully, it doesn’t take me long to come up with some more questions.
“Why do you eat regular food?”
“Our physical composition is not much different than that of a human. As such, we need regular sustenance.”
“How does your body process the blood after drinking it? I mean, are your digestive and circulatory systems linked?”
“It was explained to me once that it is something to do with our fangs. However, science never was my strong point.”
He looks embarrassed. “All right, I’ll try to avoid the science-y questions.”
“Thank you, Chérie.” He answers with a relieved grin.
“Is the vampire population a peaceful one? Do you have wars?”
“While we were not always peaceful, we are such a small population in comparison to the world as a whole that we long ago came to the conclusion that it is pointless to wage war amongst ourselves.”
“Makes sense. Do different people taste differently?”
“Yes and no. In humans, each blood type has its own distinct taste. It is generally believed that each vampire has a different taste, but as only mated pairs drink from each other, we only have personal descriptions to go by.”
“Really?”
“Yes, Chérie. A vampire will not allow him or herself to be drunk from except by his or her mate.”
“Oh. So drinking blood for you guys is like sex?” I’m starting to understand why he was so upset earlier.
“Yes, and no. In many way, it is so much more. But allow me to finish answering your question.” He sounds uncomfortable, so I let it go. “The most accepted theory about the taste of a vampire’s blood is that over the centuries, as vampires found their favorite ‘flavor’ of human, their blood adapted that taste. Then, when he or she mated with another vampire, their offspring’s blood contained characteristics of both parents’ blood, creating a unique flavor all its own. As DNA does not combine in the same way often, this results in hundreds, perhaps thousands, of unique flavors.”
“Which is your favorite?”
“AB positive.” I grin, thinking he will be in for a nice surprise. “No, it has not changed because of you. That is just a coincidence.”
“You know what blood type I am?”
“Yes, each blood type also has a unique smell.”
“Was that why you sniffed me?”
He scratches his head and looks away. “You noticed that?”
“Obviously.”
“Well, yes, it was, but I also like your own unique scent.”
“What do I smell like?” I’m a little apprehensive about the answer.
His eyes close and he smiles softly. “Vanilla . . . and something that makes me think of exotic places. Occasionally, if I see you early enough in the day, I catch a hint of mango as well.”
“That’s my body wash. The smell must wear off over the course of the day.”
“Yes, that makes sense.”
Mention of my normal routine brings another question to mind. “By the way, where’s Shawn?”
“I believe he is still asleep. I must say that I am amazed he knew my secret and was able to keep that fact from me.”
“Yeah, me too.” I snuggle close to him and feel him stiffen slightly. “Are you hungry?”
“No, but having you this close heightens your smell. Do not worry, Chérie, I will manage.”
“That’s why you would push me away sometimes.”
“Yes. I did not wish to take from you without your consent, although I came close on a few occasions.”
“Will it be easier for you once you have your first taste?”
“Yes, part of the problem is that my instinct is screaming for me to finish our Bond.”
“Then drink.” I lean my head back, exposing my neck.
“Elysabeth, I cannot.”
I look him dead in the eye. “Don’t give me that bullshit, Damien. We’re getting Bonded in less than a week. And you’ve laid your claim on me; it’s only fair that I get to do the same. Now, come on, drink.”
He leans over me. “When you put it that way, I suppose I have no choice.”
I feel vaguely insulted. “Don’t sound so enthusiastic.” My words are dripping with sarcasm.
He pulls back to look me in the eyes again. “Forgive me, Chérie,” he says seriously. “You must understand, after I drink from you, I will never be able to drink from another source ever again. Not even from the blood we have delivered.”
“Oh. Oh! So, this is big. Like losing your v-card or getting married big!”
“Yes, Elysabeth, it is like that. Both exciting, and nerve-wracking. But, I made it through one quite well,” he grins, “so I am certain I can make it through this experience.”
I wonder what lucky girl got to break him in. I don’t really want to know about exes, though, so I focus on the task at hand. “Good, now . . . ” I swallow hard, both incredibly excited, and slightly nervous. What if Damien is affected by my blood like his father was? I take a deep breath. “Just don’t take too much.”
He leans over me and kisses my neck, then licks me lightly. He pauses a moment, most likely to let his fangs descend, then bites down. I feel a rush of pure ecstasy as he takes his first drink. It’s amazing, and completely overwhelming in its unexpectedness. My world shrinks to the feeling of his lips pressed against my neck, his teeth embedded in me.
With a groan, he pulls me to him tightly and I feel his lips tighten against my neck. His second drink is smaller, and brings me right to the brink. He takes one more drink before clamping his hand over my mouth to keep me from screaming my ecstasy as I dive right over the cliff into a wonderland of absolute bliss.
I shudder as he removes his fangs, feeling oddly empty. He licks the bite, breathing heavily. Our eyes meet, sharing a moment of stunned silence, before he pulls me close and kisses me with renewed ferocity. Thoughts flee, and instinct takes over. I’m lying under him on the bed, his hand up my shirt when someone knocks on the door. We bolt upright, both breathing heavily. I thank my lucky stars that someone stopped by, or who knows how far we might have gone. We had been oblivi
ous to a house full of vampires with superior hearing.
“Damien, Cucciolo, does Elysabeth desire lunch?” His mother’s voice, coming from the other side of the closed door, is like a bucket of cold water. I’m exceedingly thankful she won’t be able to read the naughty thoughts that fill my mind as I watch Damien walk to the door and open it to speak with her. I can’t quite hear what is said, but she nods.
“Lys, I will await you in my sitting room. Damien will show you down when you are ready.”
“Thank you, Ma’am.”
Damien turns and closes the door as she leaves. I give him a curious look which he correctly interprets.
“I do not know how my saliva stops the bleeding or heals the wound. I do not know why that caused so much pleasure for us both.” He stalks toward me as he speaks, eyes locked on mine. “I do know that your blood is the most exquisite thing I have ever tasted. It is raging, like fire, through my veins. I feel amazing, energized. I will want to try that again, and again, every day for the rest of my existence.”
He takes my head in his hands and leans down to give me a kiss. “Your blood is seriously high octane, Chérie.” I push him away slightly to get off the bed, feeling it isn’t the best place to be when pinned by his heated stare.
“So, it’s not always like that?”
“Not from what I understand.”
As I straighten myself up, he untucks his shirt to cover his crotch.
I toss him a wicked grin. “Problems, Damien?”
“Only the good kind.” After a moment, he looks at me expectantly. I realize he’s waiting for a question, so I blurt out the first thing that comes to mind.
“Why are you all so gorgeous?”
He laughs. “That is a gift from our Goddesses. It was meant as an attractant to humans, so we could lure them in more easily. Remember, there was a time when blood could not be delivered to your door. At least not in little plastic bags.”
“So, does a person become more attractive when they’re turned?”
“Not exactly. Their physical shape and bone structure will not change, but they will appear at their most healthy and most beautiful, so they will appear more attractive.”
“Oh, that makes sense. Can vampires be overweight?”
“I am not certain, Chérie, but I have never seen an overweight vampire.”
“Luckies. If you drink from an intoxicated human, will you be affected?”
“No, Chérie, drugs, and alcohol have no effect upon us. Our cells simply treat them as waste. We do, however, often drink simply for the pleasure of the taste.”
“Huh, so you can’t get drunk. That’s good.” I ignore his questioning look, as I do not want to explain about the different vampire books I’ve read. “You know I probably shouldn’t keep your mother waiting.” I gather up the drawing I did earlier, and Damien leads me back down to the sitting room. Mrs. Delanciennes calls to me as I enter.
“Lys, we have had some troubles. Hilda cannot decide on a design for your dress. She said everything feels wrong to her.” Damien leaves quietly, either uninterested, or following some custom unknown to me.
“That’s okay, Mrs. Delanciennes, I had another dream. I have the perfect dress. And I know where to have the ceremony.”
“You do?” She looks relieved. “That’s wonderful. Tell me all about it.”
“There’s a park just outside of town with a large field surrounded by trees. We held the ceremony there in my dream. And I was wearing this dress.” I pull out the picture I had drawn.
“You are talented.”
“Thank you, but not normally. I think that drawing was a gift from Nyx.”
Her eyebrows disappear into her hairline and her jaw drops before she composes herself. “Elysabeth, we do not call the Goddess Nyx solely by her name. She must be referred to as the Goddess Nyx, the Goddess of the Night, or even simply our Goddess.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize.”
“It is quite all right.” She adjusts her hair and necklace nervously. “You could not possibly have known. Now, what makes you believe it was a gift from the Goddess Nyx?”
“Because she was in my dream. She said she was representing her family right before I woke up.”
She touches her throat lightly as she stands. “Excuse me a moment, dear. I must tell my husband. Let me ring for Hilda so you can show her the design.” She rings the bell, then leaves the room.
A minute later, Hilda enters, a smile on her face. “Miss Vance, it is good to see you again.”
“Please, Hilda, call me Lys.”
“Very well, Lys.” She takes a quick peek around the room. “Where is the queen?” It takes me a moment to realize who she’s referring to.
“She went to speak to her husband.”
“Did she tell you of the problem I am having?”
“Yes, but I think I have the answer.” I show her the drawing and her smile lights up her face.
“Yes, this feels right. This is perfect. How did you come up with this dress?”
“I think it was a gift from N—the Goddess Nyx.” She raises her eyebrows, but doesn’t comment.
“It is a beautiful dress. The Goddess of Night, naturally, has impeccable taste.” She holds the drawing close, deciphering some symbols. “See the embroidery here; it is her own moon and star design.” She focuses on another portion. “And over here, on the tulle is the sun design of her sister.” Her voice is becoming increasingly surprised. “And the beading under the bust spells the family motto. You cannot know all this. This truly is a gift from our Goddess. You are very blessed.”
“Hilda, are you sure?” We turn to see Mr. and Mrs. Delanciennes at the door.
“Very sure, your Majesty. This girl could never have designed this. The family motto is in the Old Language.”
“Then this is the dress.” Declares Mrs. Delanciennes. “We must not anger our Goddess.”
Hilda nods to her mistress then indicates the sketch. “May I have this, Lys?”
“Of course, Hilda. It was meant for you.”
“I will begin this right away. It should be ready for a fitting tomorrow.”
“Really? Wow, you work fast!”
“Vampire speed, dear.” She scurries out of the room, stopping only to have a quick word with Mrs. Delanciennes, before racing down the hall.
“Mr. Delanciennes, it’s good to see you again. Is everyone here a vampire?”
“Yes, it would be rather difficult to keep our nature a secret otherwise. Now, my wife tells me you had another dream?”
“Yes, Sir,” I tell them about it, making sure not to leave anything out.
“That would seem to confirm my suspicions. I must still do some more research. I do not wish to deceive you or raise your expectations, so I will not tell you of my theory until it is proven fact.”
“I understand, Sir.” Although, I’m pretty sure I know what he’s researching. He thinks I’m related to Nyx. It’s a preposterous idea though. There’s just no way. I can’t possibly be related to a goddess.
“On another note, I must say, you are a special young lady, Lys. You let my son drink from you.” It isn’t a question, but I decide to answer anyway.
“Yes, Sir. He said it would be easier for him after the first drink.”
“Yes, it should be. Forgive me, ma petite. I do not mean to embarrass you, but he mentioned there were some . . . odd occurrences.”
I blush, bright red. “Oh. How much did he tell you?”
Red starts creeping into his cheeks as well. “Only that it was oddly pleasurable for you both.”
I sigh. “That’s a massive understatement, but it gets the point across.”
He clears his throat. “As I am sure you have gathered, that is not a normal occurrence. There is . . . how to put it. There is often some pleasure, generally from the intimacy of the act, but it is not usually . . . overwhelming.” He’s bright red again.
“Add that to the growing list of odd things that have
been happening. I’m sure N—the Goddess Nyx will explain it all when she visits.”
“You are confident that your dream was prophetic?” Mrs. Delanciennes sounds skeptical.
“Yes, Ma’am. I don’t know why, but I am.”
“I believe I know why,” answers Mr. Delanciennes. “Selini, I will need to visit the archives. If I take the jet, I can be there by early morning, and will be back no later than Tuesday. Can you manage without me?”
“Yes, of course, Tesoro, but for the love of our Goddesses, don’t be late.”
He takes her hands and kisses them. “I will not, I swear it. Lys, please excuse me.”
“Of course, Sir.” He hurries out.
Mrs. Delanciennes takes pity on my confusion. “The archives are at the castle, Lys.”
“Oh. So, he’s going to France.”
“Si, Cara. This is a mystery that must be solved, especially considering you are Bonding with the heir to our throne.”
“I can understand that.” Before we can do anything, Hilda returns.
“Your Majesty, might I bother you about the cloth for the Bonding gown?”
“Of course, Hilda. Come, Lys.” I follow them back to the room where I’d been measured. Several bolts of fabric are laid out on a table. I gravitate to the red silk for the outer layer. I point it out.
“This one. This is it. It’s the exact fabric that was in my dream.”
“Are you sure? Taffeta is usually selected for Bonding gowns.”
I have my back to her, feeling the material, but I somehow know her statement is wrong. Is Mrs. Delanciennes testing me?
It must be silk.
That voice again. Can it possibly be Nyx herself? Can I discount anything at this point? “No, the Goddess Nyx prefers silk. It needs to be silk.”
“How do you know, Lys?” Mrs. Delanciennes sounds confused.
I turn back to her. “I think she told me. I think she wants me to be prepared. This union is important somehow.”
The Most Special Chosen (Exalted Bloodlines Book 1) Page 26