by Cameron Dean
I was going to die.
I had a strange, crystalline moment then, a moment out of time. Even as sensation began to leave it for good, I felt my whole body, every single part of it, for the very last time. My butt against the vampire’s lap, my shoulders and head where they rested against his supporting shoulder and arm. My legs, stretched straight out in front of me, extending past him to rest on the wet sidewalk. The throb of my broken wrist, trapped between us. My head, turned away, facing out toward the street. My left arm extending into space, the hand, palm up. As if they belonged to a stranger, I watched the fingers move, and it seemed to me that they were trying to tell me something. My body was getting it backward, and my hand was trying to give my brain a command. There was something the hand should do. Something important.
Just go for it, I thought. The world was a sea of shades of gray, like an old black-and-white television show. I watched as my pale gray fingers trembled, then jerked toward the darker gray that was the closest jacket pocket. My hand fumbled there for precious, endless seconds, then found its way inside. And, at that moment, my brain caught up. It knew what it was supposed to do now. It was supposed to save me.
In that pocket was my other silver wand.
I felt my fingers close around it and, for one blinding second, there was color in the world once more. A haze of red pain so bright and vicious it made me scream even with the vampire’s teeth embedded in my throat. My hand jerked, straight out, the silver wand clutched in my fist. My arm shot straight up. Then, as if those two motions had exhausted my last strength, my arm began to fall back down. Against all odds, I felt the tip of the silver wand catch, then drag as my arm descended.
The teeth in my throat let go as the vampire opened his mouth to howl, a furious, inhuman sound. He released me, shoving me from him with a violence so sudden I tumbled over backward, the back of my head bouncing against the sidewalk like a rubber ball. Stars wheeled before my eyes. Gorgeous, silver, sparkling. They reminded me of something. A thing that made me want to weep and sing, all at the same time.
And then even they disappeared and the only thing that existed in the world was the rain, falling down into my open, sightless eyes.
Two
When I knew myself once more, I was in the dark, but a kind of dark I almost didn’t recognize. Backward, just like my hand and brain had been. Not external, but coming from somewhere deep inside my own form. The outlines of my surroundings loomed around me, but they were shapes only, impressions in a fog. I could no longer feel the wind or rain. Inside, I thought. Out of the storm. A living room, perhaps. I was lying on my side on what I thought must be a couch. A low table sat alongside. I tried to reach for it, but found I couldn’t move. I had the desire, but not the strength, to make my body function.
“Candace,” I heard a voice say. “Candace.” And it seemed to me suddenly that I’d been hearing it all along. This was what had called me back to even this shadowy world. This voice, saying my name over and over. Begging, swearing, pleading. This set of arms, holding me as if they’d never let go. I felt them lift me, shake me, and in that moment the pain roared through me, hot enough to scald. I wasn’t dead then. Not yet. Agony belongs to living beings. Against all odds, I was still alive.
“Candace,” the voice said, once more. “You’ve got to look at me. You’ve got to focus. We haven’t much time.”
I blinked rapidly, desperately trying to clear my vision, and suddenly the dark was full of stars. They danced and wavered, then narrowed down to two. Two. His eyes.
“Ash,” I said. Forcing the single syllable through my throat was like swallowing ground glass. Ash, the vampire I hated. Ash, the man I still loved. He made an incomprehensible sound. Catching my face between his hands once more, leaning his own face close to mine. His silver eyes had a strange and dazzling sheen to them, and in the very next moment, I realized the cause. Ash, my fierce, implacable vampire lover, was weeping, weeping like an inconsolable child.
That was when I knew the truth: I was going to die.
“Candace,” Ash said, as if, by the simple act of repeating my name, he could hold back death, keep me alive. “You’ve been attacked. You’ve lost a lot of blood. Too much to stay alive. I can save you. There is a way. But there isn’t much time.”
I ran my tongue across my lips, summoning up the courage to say the word that was between us. That had always been between us.
“Vampire.”
“Yes,” Ash said at once. “The only way I can save you is to make you a vampire. The last time we saw each other, we parted in anger. I know you must feel you don’t have any reason to trust me. I’m begging you to do it anyhow. Trust me, Candace. Let me save you.”
“Ash,” I managed. “Don’t—”
“No,” he said, fiercely, cutting me off. “Do you hear me, Candace? I said, no. Ask anything else you want of me, but don’t ask for this. Do not make me sit here and watch you die.”
I pulled in what might very well be my last full breath. The pain in my throat was like hot knives.
“Ash…,” I said again, desperate to make myself understood this time. I might not have another chance.
“Do not let me go.”
I heard him give a sob then, and he brought his lips to mine. But I could barely feel his kiss. Gently, yet swiftly, he lowered me back against the couch. Without taking his eyes from mine, he reached beside him to the low table and brought up a small ivory-handled knife. I had seen it before. The night when he told me what he was. I knew how he would use it now. What must be done.
He opened the blade then set the tip against the inside of his bare arm, bore down. Deeper than he needed to, I think, as if to counterbalance my pain with his own. Bright-red blood welled up at once, streamed down his arm. I heard a clatter as he released the knife back onto the tabletop, and then he was lifting me up once more.
“You understand what has to happen?” he asked. I nodded. I couldn’t have spoken even if I had known what to say. “Then drink, my love. Let me save you. Let me save us both.”
Gently, he eased my face down, toward where his blood flowed. Willing my mind to ignore the actions of my body, I fastened my lips upon the wound and began to suck. As the taste of blood filled my mouth, began to fill my being, my head jerked back, just once. But Ash was there, gently holding me in place until my resistance gave way to a hunger so elemental it could not be denied.
This was the first step on my journey to becoming what Ash was. The taking of his blood. Then Ash would take mine. He would drink from me until I was no longer alive. Then I would feed again, and the blood I took from him, coursing through my veins, would revive me in my new existence as a vampire.
As he felt me begin to accept, Ash made one last, gutteral sound. Then bent his head, sank his teeth deep into my throat, and finished the job the first vampire had begun.
I surfaced again to a world of red. A world of pain and desire. Blood. My mouth would never lose the taste of it; my body would never lose its craving for it. Ash was holding me away from him now, his silver eyes pinning mine as we faced each other down the length of the couch.
“What do you want, Candace?” he demanded. “Tell me what you want.”
I pushed against his hold, struggling to get closer. “You know. You have to know,” I panted out.
“I want to hear you say it. I need to hear you say it.”
“I want you,” I all but shouted. “I want your blood. Inside my mouth. Inside my body. Inside my heart. You started this, you sonofabitch. Now let’s finish it. Don’t think I’m going to let you stop now.”
He released me to tear his shirt open with a single yank. The fabric gave way with a high, keening sound. Ash bared his chest. Then, reaching for the knife, pressed it into my hand.
“Take it, Candace,” he said. “Take what you need. Take what is already yours.”
I surged forward, pushing him back against the padded arm of the couch. I took the tip of the knife and ran it across the width
of his naked chest, then plunged the knife into the back of the couch. A line of red welled up where I had drawn the knife. I bent my head, and followed the path of the knife with my tongue. I felt Ash’s hands come up to cradle the back of my head, urging me to feed, reveling in my desire for his blood.
“More,” he said, his voice husky. “Candace, take more.” Without warning, he yanked my head back and to the side. I gave a growl, desperate to feed. Slowly, deliberately, his eyes again on mine, Ash tilted his own head, exposing the long, muscular line of his throat. For several seconds, we regarded one another.
“Take more, Candace,” he urged again.
I felt a different kind of hunger flood me then. Not just for Ash’s blood, but for Ash himself, for who and what he was; a hunger I was pretty certain had started the very day we’d met, that I knew now would last as long, and longer, than life. I leaned forward, turning his face back toward me, and brought his mouth to mine. I swept my tongue into his mouth, tasted my own blood as he bit down on it, hard. My blood. His blood. It was all the same. All desire.
My mouth left his to run nipping kisses down the length of his neck. I swear I heard him make a sound of pleasure as I sank my teeth into his throat. I fed until my whole world turned red, and I could remember no other color.
When I was aware again, I was on my side, lying quietly in Ash’s arms. My head was in his lap, one arm curled beneath his leg, the other extending forward into space. My legs stretched out. I could feel Ash’s fingers stroking gently through my hair, and it seemed to me I felt them tremble ever so slightly. No longer dark and indistinct, the world seemed clear and sharp. As if before I’d only seen the world through a filter, and now it had been pulled aside. Everything around me seemed so crisp and clean; even inanimate objects possessed the power to startle the eye. Without moving my head, I gazed around.
My earlier impressions had been correct. I was in an opulent living room, lying on a leather couch. A rosewood coffee table sat just at my eye level. Beneath it, an expanse of honey-colored wood floor streamed out in all directions, till the dark corners of the room swallowed it up. Opposite where I lay, between two windows, with drapes pulled closed, a single lamp with a stained-glass shade cast jeweled patterns on the wall. I had a vague impression of objects crowding together, hugging the edges of the room, just out of range of my vision.
I moved my legs, discovered that they functioned. The second I moved, I felt Ash’s fingers pause. I rolled onto my back, face up, and met his eyes. Those strange and wonderful eyes of silver that I’d loved from the moment I first saw him. I couldn’t quite read their expression.
“Are you all right?” he asked, quietly.
A laugh rose up, escaped me, before I could help it. Such a prosaic, everyday sort of question. But then, if I’d been the one to speak first, I might very well have said, “Where am I?”
“I’m not quite sure I know,” I answered honestly. “I’m thinking it will take a little time to figure out.”
“Fair enough,” Ash said, but I thought I could hear the way he had to work to keep his voice steady, his emotions under control. I realized then, how taut his body felt as I lay against it. As if stretched almost to the breaking point, it was holding so many different things inside.
“Candace,” Ash said. “I…”
I reached up then, and pressed the fingers of my right hand against his lips to silence him. And it was only as his own hand came up to capture mine, holding my palm against his face as he closed his eyes and turned to press his lips against the center of my palm, that I realized the pain in my hand was gone. I flexed my fingers, felt Ash’s tighten. My whole arm should be screaming in pain. My right wrist should be broken.
Except it wasn’t.
I pulled my hand away then, fingers fumbling at my throat, my throat that had been savaged, torn open. It was smooth and whole. I felt a sob rise up then, as inexorable as the laugh had been just moments before.
As a human, I was torn and bleeding.
As a vampire, I was whole.
“Don’t,” Ash said suddenly, pulling me upright, his arms at my shoulders, supporting me. He pressed a quick, hard kiss against my mouth. My mouth that, just moments ago, I’d used to drink his blood. To make me what he was. “Don’t say you regret this, Candace. Don’t even think it.”
“I don’t,” I said in a shaky voice. “I’m not. It’s just…” I began to tremble then, uncontrollably, as I felt the truth come home.
The last time I had seen Ash, I’d felt so furious and betrayed I had come within a hair’s breadth of taking him out. But when faced with the choice between a vampire’s existence or none at all, I had taken the path Ash offered. The thing I’d fought so long and hard against had finally come true in spite of me. The world looked different because I was different. I was a vampire. And the only constant in a world suddenly turned upside down was Ash himself.
“Hold on to me, Ash,” I begged through teeth that had suddenly begun to chatter. “Hold me. Don’t let me go.”
“Never,” he answered, and I felt his arms tighten. “Listen to me, Candace. You are mine forever. I will never let you go.”
“Okay,” I managed as, to my horror, I struggled against the hot prick of tears at the back of my eyes. I suppose I might have been considered entitled under the circumstances, but the truth is, I seriously hate to cry. It always seems like such a useless thing to do.
“Forever. That sounds about right.” The tears came anyway then. There was not a thing on earth I could have done to stop them. “Oh, Jesus, Ash, I thought I was going to die.”
“I thought so, too,” he said simply, and even through my tears, I heard the horror in his voice. “I thought I was too late—that I did not get to you in time.”
“But you did,” I said. “You did. You always do. Why is that, I wonder?”
“Don’t be stupid, Candace,” Ash said mildly, and suddenly I was laughing instead of crying. So much had changed. So much would stay the same. “You know the answer to that as well as I do.”
I wiped the tears from my face with the backs of my hands, looked up into those silver eyes.
“That doesn’t mean I wouldn’t like to hear you say it anyway,” I told him. “I haven’t changed that much.”
“I came for you because I love you, Candace,” Ash said, softly. “I will never let you go, because I’ll always love you.”
“That was the right answer,” I said. And brought his mouth to mine.
I felt the passion fill me then, a desire for Ash stronger than any craving for blood. I had done things with Ash I had never imagined I was capable of doing, wanted things with him I had not known it was possible to want. But there had always been one fundamental difference between us, one fundamental barrier: I was a living, breathing human being; Ash was not. But now, as I felt his lips leave mine to roam across my face, as I felt those strong, fierce hands molding my body to his, holding me close, I realized that this last barrier between us was gone. Not quite equal, I was still too newly made for that, and Ash too strong. But no longer different. Now we were the same. Both vampires.
I pushed myself upright, twisted so that I straddled him, then slowly eased him back to lie beneath me on the couch. I could feel his body begin to stir, my own need sharpen, focus. My desire for Ash was like a fever in my blood. I could feel it pouring through my veins. Clean, pure lust. My body was a well-honed tool, every single inch of it ready to do with as I wished. And, in that moment, I thought I understood the truth. The most heady power of the vampire wasn’t the ability to control another. It was the knowledge that, finally, at long last, you had been granted the ability to truly control yourself.
I rocked ever so gently, reveling in the slide of my body against the hardening form of Ash’s cock. He lay perfectly still, as if content for the moment to watch me enjoying my newfound powers, his eyes as bright as silver coins. The button-down shirt I had worn to the movies had long since been taken off. Beneath it, I wore a tight-fitt
ing undershirt, a lacy bra. I crossed my arms in front of my chest, hooked my thumbs under the edge of the T-shirt, then drew it up and off. Ash didn’t make a sound. But his hands came up to caress my skin, slid down to where my body spanned his, my pace slightly more urgent now. I put my hands to the clasp on the front of my bra, slid it open. I shrugged, thrusting my breasts forward even as Ash’s hands came up to ease the bra from my shoulders. And then his mouth was there, pulling one breast deep as he reared up. I made a sound at the back of my throat.
Too much, I thought. Too much. Too many barriers still between us. Too many clothes. When what I wanted was skin to skin, mouth to mouth, heart to heart, soul to soul. My fingers flew at the buttons on his jeans, desperate to have them off him, even as I felt him lift me to deal with my own. But when he would have turned me to lie beneath him, I resisted.
“No, Ash,” I panted. “Let me…I want…”
“Show me,” he said as his fingers danced along my spine. I arched back and felt his mouth at my breast once more. His clever fingers, teasing at my clit.
“Take what you want, Candace. Take me. Take it all.”
I pushed him back against the couch, centered myself over him, then, slowly, my eyes never leaving his, I sank down. I saw his lips part, his eyes go from bright and cool to white-hot metal. Blind. I began to rock again, feeling him in the very core of my body, so hard and deep I swear I felt him bump against my heart. I eased up, paused for a fraction of a second, then sank down, once more.
Mine, I thought. Mine. Now and forever. No matter what happens. He had saved me, and I would never let him go.
I felt his hands at the notch of my thighs. I lifted one hand, brought it to my lips, pulled one thumb deep inside my mouth. His cock pulsed inside me in answer. My hips were moving of their own accord now. Up and down. Up and down. Ash took his thumb from my mouth and slid it across the head of my clit. I cried out. Every cell in my body was screaming at me to go fast, go faster. Ruthlessly, I held it down. Forcing myself to a slow and steady rhythm, inexorable as waves against the shore. Holding my passion back, feeling it pound like the heartbeat I no longer possessed, making my body pulse and throb. And Ash was moving with me. Thrusting up to meet me, his hands like fire across my bare skin.