Eternity and a Year

by Ranae Rose

  The bear rose with alarming speed and Carrie peeked from above her forearms to see it standing on its hind legs, towering above her with its nose to the air. The cry came again, and a deep rumbling filled its chest, rising up and out of a toothy mouth, threatening. Carrie moved as quickly as she could, darting around to the other side of the tree and scrambling through the underbrush, away from the bear.

  It was apparently the wrong decision. The animal returned to all fours, shaking the ground as it did so, and lumbered after her, felling saplings as it went. Carrie shrieked, all pretence of being motionless, lifeless—and hopefully flavourless—gone as she sprinted through the woods, in constant danger of falling as she stumbled over unseen obstacles. The strange cry that had originally alarmed the bear sounded again, and the beast roared in agitated response but didn’t abandon its pursuit of Carrie, who was struck with a sudden, despairing vision of being chased by two savagely carnivorous creatures. The image pushed her to run faster, leaping forward with a second, terror-induced wind.

  Her feet never hit the ground. Rather, they struck a protruding root, and she was airborne, crying out in alarm, emptying her lungs before the impact of the hard ground could do it for her.

  The bear was on her at once. Its wickedly long claws scraped her side, its feet stamping as it pawed at her back and ribs, attempting to turn her over. It snorted in frustration when it was unsuccessful, and its hot, stinking breath hit her hair and sent it flying in a heated blast. She braced herself for the inevitable teeth closing around her neck, for the shock of snapping bone.

  The nearby vegetation exploded with the crash of breaking wood and a shower of leaves and dirt. The bear’s breath was gone from her neck as quickly as it had come, and its claws marred the earth as it turned, its huge body poised for combat.

  Two angry, wild cries clashed, and strong bodies collided. Carrie took advantage of the distraction to curl herself into a ball again, shielding what parts of herself she could. Abruptly, all fell silent.

  Chapter Eight

  Something soft brushed Carrie’s cheek. “Carrie?”

  Her eyes flew open. “Brendan?” Her voice trembled with shock. Where was the bear? Where was the monster that had fought it?

  Brendan pulled her into a fierce embrace. “Carrie! Are you all right? Are you hurt?” He grasped her by her shoulders and held her at arms’ length, scouring her body and dirt-smeared clothing for any signs of damage.

  “W—what?” Her clothes were filthy, she realised, and her T-shirt had been torn nearly to tatters.

  “The bear,” Brendan said. “Did it hurt you?” He tightened his grip on her arms.

  “No,” Carrie replied. “You got here just in time.” He bore the evidence of combat—wildly tousled hair, blood- and dirt-streaked skin and a feral glimmer that lingered in his eyes. Suddenly, it wasn’t so hard to imagine he’d made those fierce sounds. “How did you know?”

  Brendan’s eyes caught the moonlight, and for a moment they flashed bright red. “I didn’t. I’d heard you calling, then you stopped abruptly,” he said. “So I started running.”

  So he had been the second beast raging through the dark forest. And he had… Carrie turned to peer over his shoulder at the large mound of dark, thick-haired flesh. It was still save for the shallow rise and fall of its sides. Brendan must have paralysed it.

  She collapsed against him, pressing her forehead into his shoulder as she tried to blink back tears, terror and shock draining from her body, leaving her weak in their wake.

  Brendan scooped her into his arms and stood wordlessly. She cried quietly against his shoulder as he carried her through the woods.

  When he stopped and lowered himself to his knees again, she lifted her head. They were back in the clearing. “Where did you go?” she asked. “Why did you leave me here alone?”

  Brendan was silent. Carrie was surprised to see a tear sliding down his face.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Why?” she asked. Her stomach clenched as she waited for his reply.

  He stared at her through eyes that were even redder than they normally were. “Do you have any idea what I’ve done to you?” he asked.

  Carrie stared. “No, but I’m trying to get you to tell me! Why did you abandon me?” Her desperation to know the reason for his actions lent an edge to her voice.

  “Carrie, I changed you.”

  It took several moments for the words to sink in. “You…changed me? Into a vampire?” Carrie whispered.

  “Yes.”

  She gaped at Brendan, dumbfounded. “But you said… I thought…” She stared suddenly down at her hands, searching for evidence of the change he claimed to have made in her. They were white—had they always been that white?

  “I had to have you, Carrie! When I saw you in your dress, I knew. And when I made love to you as your husband, I was sure. I had to have you…forever. I had to change you.” He stared at his knees as he spoke but looked up suddenly as he finished, pleading.

  Carrie continued to gape at him. “Am I really…”

  “Yes.” He cupped her face between his hands, gazing into her eyes. “They’re red,” he whispered. “They’re not brown anymore. They’re red. And your teeth…”

  He brushed a finger against her mouth, and she parted her lips willingly. He slid it inside, and she tasted it with her tongue.

  “They’re sharp,” he said. “Yes, I changed you.”

  Fierce happiness surged through her, laced with amazement. “You changed me.” Saying it out loud didn’t make the statement seem quite real, as she’d hoped it would.

  “Are you…glad?” he asked tentatively.

  “Yes!” Carrie pulled Brendan into a tight embrace, noticing, for the first time, that his body no longer felt cool to her. “Did it feel good?”

  “What?”

  “Did it feel good?” she repeated, curious. “You told me it feels good when you release venom. I was wondering how it felt when you changed me.”

  “It was amazing,” he said, then ran his tongue over the wounds he’d left in the side of her neck. “Mostly because I knew I was making you mine forever.”

  She embraced him silently for a long minute, revelling in the knowledge of what he’d done to her. She had been sure she wanted him to change her, but she’d thought he’d put up a fight, even if she waited until after the first few weeks of their marriage had passed. The frightening events of the night didn’t seem as terrible when she considered what she had gained. Finally, she spoke. “Is that why you left me?” she asked. “Were you sorry you changed me?”

  He shook his head. “No! I’m… I know I’m a selfish bastard for it, but I’m not sorry. I left to hunt.”

  “To hunt?” Carrie repeated.

  “Aren’t you thirsty?” Brendan asked.

  “Yes. Very.” Her throat felt dry, like ancient paper, and longing burnt in the pit of her stomach, a fierce bloodlust. In her ignorance and panic, she hadn’t recognised it for what it was and had turned to water, which could no longer satisfy her.

  “I wanted to have something waiting for you when you woke,” Brendan said, “so I went into the woods, searching for a deer. I took too long.” His shoulders slumped.

  Carrie stroked his hair from root to end, feeling the hard protrusion of a vertebra beneath her fingertips at the base of his neck. “It’s okay,” she said.

  Brendan shook his head. “Why do you always say that?”

  “No real harm was done,” she insisted, trying not to think of the bear’s breath against her neck.

  He pulled her into his lap, wrapping his arms beneath her breasts and resting his cheek on top of her head.

  “Did you get a deer?” she asked, nearly as eager to change the subject as she was to assuage her thirst.

  He shook his head.

  “Oh.” She tried unsuccessfully not to sound disappointed. How was it that everything else—the fear she had so recently felt and the exhilaration of knowi
ng she had been changed—faded into insignificance beside her raging thirst? Was this what it meant to be a vampire?

  “The bear…” Brendan said.

  Carrie wrinkled her nose. It’s fur had been so thick, and that musky smell—Then the memory of the blood she’d scented on it returned to her, strangely enticing. Apparently, she’d been too terrified to lust for it then. But now…

  “You mean you’re going to…” Thirsty as she was, she couldn’t quite stomach the idea of pressing her mouth against that sour and hairy beast.

  “Of course I am!” Brendan replied indignantly. “I’m a vampire, Carrie, and so are you.”

  Carrie looked down, saying nothing.

  “This is what I am, Carrie!” Brendan continued. “This is what being a vampire is like! I tried to tell you, but you wouldn’t listen! This is what you asked for!”

  Carrie met his gaze levelly. “But that doesn’t really matter, does it?” she asked. “Because you would have changed me anyway.”

  Brendan glared back at her. “Yeah, I would have.”

  He covered her mouth with his. Carrie leaned into the kiss, spreading her legs so she straddled him, and the stiff form of his erection pressed teasingly against her clitoris through their pants. She thrust her tongue deep into his mouth, and her fangs met his with a clack like crossed swords.

  “Oh!” She pulled away, startled.

  Brendan chuckled. “You asked for that, too.”

  “I—I didn’t think…”

  “It makes everything a little different,” he said with a grin, “being a vampire. For instance…” He lowered his head and bit Carrie’s breast through a tear in her shirt. His teeth dented her flesh but didn’t break her new vampire skin, despite the fact he applied a moderate amount of pressure. Apparently, it was as resilient against another vampire’s bite as it was against a bear’s claws. He tugged her breast free of her bra, centred her nipple between his fangs and drew it into his mouth.

  “It makes biting you a lot more fun,” he said after releasing her and leaning back. “I don’t think you ever used to make sounds that loud before.”

  “I don’t make loud sounds,” she protested.

  “Yes you do.” He bit her again in demonstration.

  She suppressed a gasp, digging her fingers deep into the flesh of his shoulders instead.

  “Well, I like that, too,” he said.

  “I want to try.” Carrie loosened her grip a little and leaned in to brush his neck with her lips. She opened her mouth and pressed it against his flesh, feeling it sink beneath the tips of her fangs. It resisted penetration, and she pressed harder, using all her strength to pierce his skin. He did not try to stop her, but rather brushed a lock of hair out of her way, tilting his head slightly for her convenience.

  A strong pressure welled up beneath her gums, surging and insistent, longing to be released. Her whole mouth tingled, and her fangs ached until she thought her mouth would burst with the build-up. She willed it to do just that, and to her surprise, it seemed to. A liquid, sweet yet faintly acidic, surged over her teeth and touched her tongue. She dislodged her fangs from his flesh and gasped.

  Brendan smiled, touched a finger to his neck and licked it, consuming a smear of clear, shining liquid. “No, it won’t affect me,” he said, reading Carrie’s surprised expression. “Vampires are immune to venom. We don’t have any blood for it to travel through.”

  “That felt so…strange,” Carrie remarked, wiping a corner of her mouth with her wrist. “Good, but strange.”

  “You’ll get used to it.”

  She grasped her throat and made a strangled sound.

  “Thirsty?” he asked knowingly.

  She nodded. Her throat felt as if it had suddenly burst into flame, and for a moment her head spun as a renewed longing gripped her.

  “Your body expects to be fed after releasing venom,” Brendan explained. “That’s why it’s so hard to change someone. You have to inject the venom while tasting their blood in your mouth, then stop and turn away.”

  No, transforming someone would not be a simple matter. But right now… She grasped his hand, imploring him to help her, to lead her to drink.

  “Come on,” he said.

  She followed him eagerly into the woods, feeling much more confident with him by her side than she had the last time, when she’d entered the forest alone. He led her by the hand, but she could have walked there with her eyes closed, drawn by the surprisingly alluring, coppery smell of blood.

  “Oh,” she said softly when they reached the place where the bear lay fallen, the tempting scent rushing under its skin warring for dominance with the repellent, sour musk of its body. She was suddenly torn between the urge to leap upon it and the urge to vomit.

  Brendan squeezed her hand before releasing it and strode confidently forward, stopping when he reached the stilled bear. He pulled its huge head gently backwards by one round ear, exposing the throat. As Carrie watched, he pressed his mouth against it, burying his face in the thick, black hide.

  “It’s all right,” he said, pausing after a minute. “You can do it. It’ll feel natural once you start.”

  Dubiously, she eyed the blood that streamed down his chin, fighting the urge to lick her lips and losing spectacularly. Her stomach protested feebly while her mouth and her new instincts screamed for her to obey now!

  “Come here,” he urged, extending a hand.

  She drifted forward to kneel beside him, and he folded her hand into his as he bent over his victim’s neck again. He rose without swallowing and leaned towards Carrie as if to kiss her. His lips met hers, which sprang open instinctively at the coppery tang of blood. He pressed hard around her mouth, creating a seal. She quivered as the blood rushed over her tongue and down her parched throat in a warm, delicious torrent.

  “How—?” Brendan began when he’d pulled back from her.

  She paid no attention. She seized one of the bear’s gigantic paws and held it aloft, pressing her mouth against the flesh just below its wrist, eager to break its skin, no longer caring that she had to take in a mouthful of thick, black fur to do so.

  The urge to release venom began to build as soon as she sensed the warm liquid beneath the tough skin. By the time she had swallowed several mouthfuls, it was nearly unbearable. She fought the urge to release for a moment then gave in, moaning as its strange taste mixed with blood.

  It was some time later that Carrie finally relaxed, abandoning the beast’s body.

  “How do you feel?” Brendan asked.

  “A lot better,” she admitted, a bit embarrassed. She had enjoyed the bear’s blood. Immensely. It hadn’t been easy, leaving enough to allow it to live.

  “Good.” He took her hand in his again. “Let’s go back and get your dress so we can go home.”

  He eyed her body slowly and deliberately, allowing his gaze to cling to her every curve. Desire welled up in her, surprisingly strong.

  “Okay,” she said breathlessly, rising as he did and following him towards the clearing where they had wed.

  He cast a quick glance in the direction of Carrie’s abandoned gown when they arrived. “There it is,” he said, not sounding as if he cared.

  Carrie stepped forward so their hips met and her breasts pressed against his chest. “Are you ready to head home?” she asked.

  “No.” Brendan placed a hand on either side of her face, lifted it and bent to kiss her.

  She responded with passion, detecting traces of blood in his mouth and probing deeper with her tongue to find more, as he did the same to her.

  “You taste good,” she gasped when their lips parted.

  He cupped her buttocks through her mud- and grass-stained jeans, pulling her upwards against him until her toes left the ground. “So do you,” he replied, leaning forward to trace the Cupid’s bow curve of her upper lip with the tip of his tongue.

  She lifted her dangling legs and wrapped them around his hips while she pressed her hands against the back of h
is skull, urging him to abandon his teasing and really kiss her.

  “Mmmm…” he moaned as his mouth covered hers, moving slowly and thoroughly.

  “I wish you’d take off your clothes,” she said when it ended, longing to feel his erection pressing against her bare skin instead of through so much fabric. The desire that raged within her was not unlike the longing that had driven her to drink the bear’s blood.

  “Well, you’re going to have to get down, then,” he replied.

  She slid off him reluctantly then removed her own clothing with haste, sinking to her knees afterwards to watch in impatient expectation as he stripped. When his pants plunged over his leanly muscular hips, she reached up to cup his testicles, squeezing lightly as the head of his penis parted her lips. She grasped his buttocks and pulled his cock all the way into her mouth, feeling her fangs drag down its sides.

  She quickly released him. “Sorry! I forgot. Are you okay?”

  He had screwed his eyes shut and stood trembling slightly. “I’m fine,” he breathed. “I think you’ll find you can be a bit rougher with me than you could when I was human.”

  Her eyes widened in surprised understanding. “Oh,” she said softly.

  She allowed the long shaft of his penis to fill her mouth again, letting her fangs stroke its sides while her tongue pressed against it from below. He moaned, aiding her task by moving his hips gently as she continued. His stiff flesh pressed against her teeth, and the urge to release venom began to build. Suddenly, her mouth was filled with its bittersweetness. She released him reluctantly, before the urge to sink her fangs into something became overwhelming. The entire length of his cock gleamed wetly in the moonlight, as if it had been dipped in translucent silver. She looked away, abashed, even as the sight of it fuelled her lust.

  Brendan placed a finger under her chin and forced her to meet his gaze. “That was wonderful,” he said.

  Carrie was grateful she could no longer blush. She closed her eyes as he lowered himself to the ground beside her, and he massaged her skull with his fingertips as he buried them in her hair. “I guess you can be rougher with me, too,” she said as he settled himself between her thighs. “No holding back.”