Nectar: DD Prince

by Prince, DD

  She nodded. “Was the transition hard?”

  “So hard. Imagine everything you know changing in a heartbeat. I guess you can imagine that, huh? Then imagine on top of all of that finding out you aren’t who you thought you were. You’re someone else and you’ve been watched your whole life.”

  He got up and looked out the window and was contemplative for a moment, “Enough about me for now. Tell me about you, about growing up. About why you have that personal bubble of steel that your roommate talked about.”

  “That’s surrounded by a molten lava moat and protected by a fire-breathing dragon?” She laughed, wondering what else Daisy had said to him.

  “That sounds about accurate,” he chuckled and lay back down on the bed and gathered her close.

  “Well, I don’t know who I am, really. I’m just a product of my upbringing. I only just barely remember my parents. I remember a few times together more than remember them. I vaguely remember a woman with a kind face on a park bench telling me that they wouldn’t be coming back and that they were going to find me a new Mommy and Daddy. I think I became very withdrawn and maybe that’s why I was never adopted. I moved around a lot in the first few years. I had some bad experiences in the foster care system. I didn’t have anyone looking out for me.

  My case kept getting shuffled from social worker to social worker, too. No one stood up for me when I was little and when I got into my teens I rebelled and got into a few clashes with foster parents and other kids in the system so I wound up in group homes instead of foster homes and those were so impersonal and cold. I guess I built a wall.

  Every time I trusted someone I got the shaft so trust just doesn’t come easy. When I turned 18 I was out on my ear. They subsidized my income for the first few years so I could be on my own and I did that for a while but then I moved in with my boyfriend.” Kyla started to choke up.

  Tristan squeezed her close and rubbed her shoulder.

  “Big mistake. Jackson was from the system like me. He sorta got me. But he loved to party. He sold drugs and did b&e’s and stuff and got progressively into harder drugs. He and I went from smoking pot together and giggling in front of the TV every night to me being pissed off all the time and him becoming a full-on addict --- doing pills, crack, whippits, whatever he could get his hands on for a high.

  He got in trouble with the police. Like, a lot. I was a mouthy little thing. Shocker, right? He and I used to have awful screaming matches, usually about him coming home with a stolen stereo that he’d bought with grocery money, letting his scuzzy friends sleep on our couch, or spending our rent money on dope.

  I broke up with him after a big fight one night when one of his buddies, someone barely a friend, climbed into our bed and started molesting me while Jackson was passed out in his own vomit on the bathroom floor. They’d just broken into a vet clinic and stole drugs together and he let me down by leaving me vulnerable like that. The guy almost raped me. It was horrible. I dumped Jackson for it.” She took a deep breath, “He jumped off a bridge right after that. They said he was brain dead. The plug got pulled. They said they found all kinds of drugs in his system and that he probably tripped out but it felt like my fault. He told me he couldn’t live without me and I laughed in his face and told him to go take a flying fuck and then I left. I never saw him awake again,” she started laughing and crying at the same time, “Who would’ve thought he’d actually take a flying fuck off a bridge? I say terrible things when I’m mad.”

  “It’s not your fault he did all those drugs,” he lifted a tear off her cheek with his index finger and tasted it.

  “No, but,” she frowned at him and wiped her eyes, “I saw him in the hospital once and when I found out they were going to pull the plug I ran. I decided to start over somewhere new after that. I didn’t want anyone’s pity and our friends…some would blame me. Just decided to get out of there, make sure I make something of my life so I moved here, worked my ass off, kept to myself, and had planned to go to college in another year to get a degree and make something of my ‘not much of a’ life. I was working toward that when I became your birthday present.”

  He winced, looking guilty for his careless ‘not much of a life’ comment. “I’m glad you came here. I’m sorry you went through that but it means we got to meet.” he kissed her softly on the temple and wiped another tear from her cheek with his thumb and put his thumb in his mouth.

  “Weirdo,” she laughed.

  “I want to take your tears away,” he shrugged.

  Kyla’s heart warmed, “I’m glad we got to meet, too. But yeah, that’s quite a story too, though, huh? I clearly don’t just have normal hook ups and break ups, Tristan. And that scares me about us, especially with what you’ve told me about the danger we’re in.”

  “Let’s not think about that right now. Let’s take a break. It’ll all be there to deal with tomorrow.”

  “Sounds like a good idea to me.”

  He kissed her and pulled her close. She hadn’t said Jackson’s name out loud since leaving the hospital that day. She couldn’t believe that all those thoughts and feelings had tumbled out of her like that.

  “Mmm, peach cobbler,” she mumbled.

  “Hmm?” He kissed her again.

  “That kiss, tasted like peach cobbler.”

  “Not brownies?”

  “Nope.”

  “That’s weird.”

  Kyla smiled, “You don’t know?”

  “Know what?”

  “Your kisses. They always taste like dessert. The taste varies but it’s very addicting. You smell like dessert, too.”

  “That’s weird,” he said.

  “I thought it was part of the mesmerizing thing. Since I’m a sugar junkie you’ve been using that to your advantage.”

  “I had no idea. You smell and taste good, too. Like sunshine. And melons. Wait, thousand calories?”

  “Yes!”

  “Ah, now I get it. What does this one taste like?” he kissed her passionately, his tongue caressing hers and sending tingles all through her body. She felt like she was melting.

  “Uhhh, cherries. And cheesecake.”

  “And this one?” he kissed her again, sliding his tongue in once again.

  “Tiramisu, I think…” she groaned.

  “I bet you like Tiramisu, don’t you?” he said huskily and kissed her chin.

  “You bet your ass I do. Coffee in your dessert? What could be better?”

  “And this one?”

  “Still tiramisu. You’re gonna make me fat. And jittery.” She laughed and poked him in the chest accusingly.

  He rolled over, taking her with him so she was on top.

  They cuddled quietly, Kyla wrestling with the demons --- old and new, and Tristan rubbing her back and stroking her hair until she fell asleep on top of him.

  -9-

  Kyla woke with a start, she’d been dreaming about Tristan. It was still dark.

  They were in a beautiful lush meadow and he was pushing her on a tree swing. They were laughing. Birds were chirping and flowers bloomed at rapid speed before her very eyes. She could smell him. That sweet, manly, candy-like smell. Mmm, Man-candy. She giggled in the dream.

  She felt happy, joyful, like tickly bubbly champagne flowed through her veins. Then suddenly he’d bared his fangs and his eyes turned black. He got hold of her throat and wouldn’t let go. In the dream she’d screamed his name over and over but it did nothing to stop him. Then she saw Jackson, standing in the shadows, looking gray, gaunt, and watching.

  “Kyla!” Tristan had her shoulders. She was drenched in sweat. “Just a bad dream. It’s okay, baby.”

  She started to hyperventilate. Tristan rubbed her shoulders, “Tell me what it was about.”

  She shook her head, “I don’t remember. It’s okay.”

  He looked directly into her eyes “Never ever lie to me.” he looked angry. Kyla threw her arms around him, trying to hold him as tight as possible.

  “You were scream
ing my name but thrashing. You were in pain,” He caressed her head and ran his hands up and down her back. She just held on tight. She felt so overwhelmed. Being in Tristan’s arms felt so safe --- it was a safety she’d never remembered feeling at any other time in her life. She didn’t want to let go. How many times had she woken up afraid and alone at night? Never was there anyone she could grab onto.

  She never wanted to grab onto Jackson when she was scared. She never got close enough to anyone else to feel that way, either. She felt like she belonged in Tristan’s arms when she was afraid. It instantly helped steady her heart rate. It felt so amazing to have someone to grab onto when she was so used to being alone with her grief and her fears.

  “Did I hurt you in the dream? I did, didn’t I?” he asked, rhythmically stroking her back up and down.

  She couldn’t answer, she just held on tight and let the steady beat of his heart steady hers.

  “I won’t. I won’t let anybody hurt you. Ever.” He squeezed her tight.

  How can he promise me that? This enchanted blood bond thing…on one hand she hoped it would never end because clearly it was responsible for this, whatever this was, but it felt like it couldn’t possibly end well, with a happily ever after. Why couldn’t things just be normal? Why could she just be a girl with non-enchanted blood and Tristan just a guy who didn’t need to drink blood?

  He feared for her safety. She feared for her life and as much as she felt like she had feelings for him that ran deeper than any feelings she’d ever had for anyone she was afraid of the monster that lurked not too deep within him. He’d said, himself, she had seen nothing yet of that monster. What did that mean? How did that bode for her with his self-control and the issues related to her blood?

  That dream… fear gripped her and must be manifesting itself when she slept. When she was awake she was floating on a cloud of giddiness but when she slept her fear gripped her. Was her intuition trying to shake her out of the floaty lovesick feeling by giving her a dose of harsh reality in her dreams?

  She still knew almost nothing about him, about his past, about the world he lived in. She wanted to know what she was facing; she needed to know more about him, too. He’d been pretty vague so far.

  It was 5:41am but morning nonetheless so she decided to get up.

  “I’m just going to get a shower. I’m okay, honest.” Kyla got up and looked back at him. Damn, he was beautiful. He lay naked in the bed with the sheet barely covering his crotch. His tanned strong leg was bent up and one of his arms was behind his head. She blew out a slow breath and closed the bathroom door behind her.

  When she got out of the shower she put on a new long maxi halter sundress. It was hot and sunny outside beating down from the skylight and through the windows. The yellow and white floral dress was casual, for poolside or beach wear but it felt good to wear something pretty and new.

  She twisted her hair into a French braid and despite the gorgeous shoes there, she slid into her favourite beach flip flops. She put on some eyeliner, mascara, and lip gloss. She wondered where Tristan was.

  She spotted a note on the bed, which had been made already.

  “Meet me in the kitchen. Xo, T.”

  She brightened, looking forward to getting out of the master suite again.

  She found Tristan in the kitchen, cooking. Led Zeppelin’s “All of my Love” blared throughout the kitchen. He was only wearing a pair of tight and faded cut-off jean shorts, which sat low on his hips, revealing some tan lines, his happy trail, and that sexy V shape that led to a place she could attest was wonderful. A sexy vampire with a sun tan. She chuckled. What an oxymoron. He was singing along. He had a great voice.

  He smiled, flashing dimples, “Get your sexy self over here and kiss me immediately!”

  He flipped omelettes over in a frying pan and then grabbed her and pulled her to him. He kissed her. He tasted like bacon and something sweet.

  “Mmm,” she moaned appreciatively and deepened the kiss; bacon was, after all, making its way into desserts nowadays.

  He held onto her braid and gently tugged so that her chin lifted and more of her throat was exposed to his mouth and then he sank his teeth in and started to drink. She groaned and leaned into him, feeling his erection poking her. She rubbed his shoulders and down his biceps.

  “Is it rude that I didn’t ask first?” he whispered, tonguing her earlobe.

  “Not at all,” she muttered, “I’m all yours.”

  He groaned into her ear, “Mmmm, damn straight you’re all mine.”

  Shivers tickled her spine. He smelled so yummy she leaned over and put her teeth onto his shoulder,

  “You smell delicious enough to eat, too. I should bite you,” she said teasingly and licked his shoulder, “I vant to bite your neck.” She used her best mock Dracula voice and got onto her tiptoes and then sniffed the crook of his neck.

  He grasped her shoulders and hauled her a few inches back and looked at her seriously. Kyla was taken aback.

  “Not unless you want to become a vampire, too, baby.”

  She felt stupid. Of course. She knew from last night that here was at least one vampire legend that wasn’t bunk. If you drank a vampire’s blood you became a vampire.

  “Yeah, not so much.”

  His smile returned and he pulled her close and then his tongue flicked her throat quickly and he sucked on her earlobe for a beat, “Let’s eat, shall we?”

  “Yes. Let’s talk, too. I have some questions.” For a beat she wondered what it’d be like to be a vampire. Would it solve their problems if she was one, too? She shrugged the thought away after thinking for a beat that most of the vampire romances she’d read resulted in the human girl becoming a vampire. She shook that thought off as he passed her a glass of already poured juice and plated the omelettes and added bacon on the side. The toaster popped.

  ~~~

  It was another sunny gorgeous day in the courtyard. And the omelette was the best she’d ever tasted, filled with mushrooms, zucchini, peppers, onions, tomatoes, and cheese. Paradise, with a gorgeous man who could cook like nobody’s business. It almost felt normal here with just the two of them. Almost. She shook herself back to quasi-reality, quasi because this still didn’t feel like reality, totally.

  “I have questions. I think it’s fair that I ask you some questions. You seem like you keep trying to dodge them.”

  He put his fork down and looked at her expectantly, “Not at all. I’ve just been caught up in everything that has been happening. There’s a lot going on and a lot I’ll have to tell you but it’s a lot all at once so I’ve decided to let you guide the pace. Ask away.”

  “I’ve seen, so far, that some things from the books and movies about vampires aren’t true.”

  He smiled, “You ain’t whistlin’ Dixie. Here are some of the very basics. And this isn’t me just offering info so you won’t ask other questions. If you have questions, ask. I was transformed 10 years ago. Thankfully I can still be around garlic. That’s a myth. Thank God! I’d never want to give up garlic.” He winked and took a sip of coffee, then was quiet for a beat, looking reflective, then continued, “There’s a lot of misinformation out there about the paranormal or supernatural but most people can’t handle it. People are so enamored with power, immortality, and hedonism that we have to work to keep our secrets. Most people just couldn’t handle it. The world would be a terrible dangerous place if many of the people out there could just choose vampirism. It’s already bad enough and there are some bad eggs with powers similar to mine already. Anyway, we age slowly but most are not exactly immortal. I know vampires who are over 150 years old. They look like they’re around my age. I attended a funeral last year for a vampire who died in his sleep, looking like natural causes. He was 270. Most of the vamps in my immediate circles are under 100 years old so I haven’t been around too many elders yet. There are a lot more older vampires in Europe, for example.

  I was changed into a vampire because of who I’m related to, I
already told you that. That’s why I was chosen to be put in a position of authority, due to my blood lines. It made me a prime candidate for leadership. So, you see, I understand being wanted for your blood type.”

  His words stung, reminding her of why she wasn’t back home, blissfully ignorant about the existence of vampires.

  “Due to my bloodlines I might actually be pretty close to immortal. We’re not sure yet. Not something I’m anxious to test out, of course. I had a period of adjustment, too, once I knew what plans were in store for me. I was resistant at first. But then I was groomed for a leadership role and I excelled at it so was promoted 15 years ahead of schedule.”

  She briefly pondered what immortality must feel like. Did it result in fearlessness? It was as if the sun pulsed in the sky; it got very bright and Kyla shielded her eyes.

  “Oh, and I can handle sunlight; we all can. No magical sunscreen required. We need food but we need blood more. Vampires are physically strong and we have powers of persuasion --- some, more than others. Some vampires have psychic abilities, like varying degrees of telepathy or telekinesis. The strength of a vampire depends on several things, including pre-vampire body chemistry and blood line, who sired them, and how they live their post-human life. A vamp gets to know what works for him or her to feel at their best with food, exercise, blood. I, for example…” he eyed her studiously, “I feel at my best when I consume blood from green-eyed brunettes and when I exercise daily. I also have a voracious sexual appetite. In case you hadn’t noticed.”