Lacing Shadows

by Tina Smith

  Consumed, he gritted his teeth and tensed all over. I wondered if he was done but as I did, he rose up on his arms rocked again, working himself up with the motion as though agitated. His movements became more rhythmic as his hips pressed forward and then he pulled in and out. I held to his broad back as he began to plunge slower and deeper as though if he did anything more he would burst. He scaled me with his eyes and I flushed, staring back.

  I ran my hand over his chest and when I looked up his eyes were dark and smoldering, still locked on mine. He tilted my chin up with an icy hand and tasted my pouted lips. He laid his face into my shoulder and shifted deeper, his hard muscles twitching. His breathing increased until every inch of him writhed, consumed with pleasure. He gave a deep moan and rested over me; I was wrapped in his arms, the coolness of his skin against my sweaty brow. He drew a breath and rolled away. In the quiet as I listened to my own breath, it began to dawn on me; I had lost my virginity to a vampire...

  As he slid back into the bed, his cool hands found me in the darkness and wandered mine for hours as the world spun around me. We rolled under the sheets, my body buzzing with pleasure. The kiss of his cold lips on my shoulder made my body tingle. He sucked my neck and caressed my body running his sharp nose along my flesh. Exhausted and exhilarated, I fell asleep against his body in the creased sheets—happy that I had waited for him.

  Chapter 8. Cloud Shadows

  I lay on my side under his dark blanket. A narrow strip of daylight was cast through high frosted windows.

  I traced his white sculpted face, my finger tip carefully examining every curve. His mauve eyelids fluttered from the movement.

  “Why did you tell me what you were?” I asked.

  “You wouldn’t tell.” He opened his caramel eyes and slanted them on me.

  “Because you trust me?” I looked at him lazily.

  “Yes.”

  “I think it’s because you hope I won’t,” I teased. Our legs were intertwined and my foot brushed his.

  His eyes narrowed. “I can kill you if you tell. I will have to,” he whispered.

  “What have you been living off? You can’t only eat that stored blood.” I gave him a look that said he must have been hungry.

  “I eat pigeons, from the roof. Animals, stray cats, rats even....” he sniffed.

  “Human is the best?” I guessed pulling a piece of lint from the pillow.

  “Mainly we get blood from banks.” He looked as though even thinking of the taste dissatisfied him. He grabbed my hand. “You are beautiful, smart and funny, why kill yourself?” His voice was breathy as his eyes scanned mine.

  “All those things don’t make me happy, not since the accident.” I had wished everyday it was me and not them. There was a gaping hole inside me. I was relieved when he didn’t push the point.

  “If you still feel the same in a year I’ll come and I’ll gladly drain your body of every drop of blood.” I had never been really frightened of him until that moment when he looked upon me with a savage hunger in his eyes. His skin was deathly pale but less grey than it had been that day. There was a glimmer in his golden eyes.

  I let it sink in. “I will hold you to that.” I held him in my gaze.

  He tensed his lower lip and took a sharp breath. I wondered if he would cave and bite me now.

  I smiled at him as a warm feeling spread through me and I slid my arms around him. I liked the primal look on his face as he came closer and kissed me. I relaxed in his cool embrace.

  I wondered, “What’s with this tat?” I touched his back.

  He glanced at his shoulder shifting his eyes back to me. He rolled over to let me see it.

  I ran my finger over his back, feeling the dark grey shades of ink: a large Celtic cross, a skull and wings, with the lettering beneath. I read the word ‘redemption’ woven through the design.

  “Do all vampires get tattoos?”

  “Cyrus got one that says Beyond Redemption.” He rolled back to meet my face to his.

  “No?” But I saw he was serious. “Why?”

  “Emulation is the highest form of flattery. He likes to provoke and destroy others’ happiness, probably because he has little of it himself.” He tone was bitter and he sat up. Cyrus was a dark cloud but strangely he was the thing that drew us together.

  “Was he always like that?” I wondered.

  “He seems to have gotten worse with age. Some do.” He sat on the edge of the bed.

  “You haven’t.”

  He gave a pained look.

  “Did you used to be?” I guessed.

  “I never enjoyed it like he did. I came here to get away from him—the coven.” He had come here to hide from the past, just like me. I liked that we had that in common.

  “What about the Guard?”

  “The Guard evaluates us; we have a tendency to get out of control. Some even turn psychopathic.”

  “They keep you in line?”

  “They try,” Joe bowed his head.

  I didn’t know what to say. So I changed the subject. “I’m hungry.” I got up and threw a shirt at him. He had promised me breakfast.

  My neck felt a little sore. Curious, I looked in the dresser mirror.

  I had two bite marks on my neck, but there was another set on the other side.

  The color drained from my face. Panicked I look at him in the mirror. “Will I turn into one of you?” My heart skipped a beat. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t felt it before that moment.

  He looked ashamed as his chin turned down.

  “Tell me,” I said more harshly. What game was he playing?

  His voice was quiet. “No,” his eyes fell.

  I felt my heart slow and I leant on the dresser sighing in relief. I guessed vampires were created from more than just a bite. “How much blood did you take?”

  “Not much, a taste.”

  I glanced up at him in the mirror. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.” He let out a sigh himself as he sat on the bed. “Being turned is a process.”

  I considered the ramifications. “Will it heal?”

  He nodded. “There may be a light scar.”

  “That’s all?”

  He nodded heavily. Maybe I wanted to ask why he stopped but I didn’t wish to sour the moment. The bliss of happiness was too intoxicating.

  I felt sorry for him, with his bowed head. It seemed vegetarianism had worn him down.

  “Is my blood good?”

  His eyes were raw. “I’m sorry, I truly couldn’t stop myself,” he muttered.

  “Will it happen again?” I wondered if he could taste the crushing grief.

  “No.” He pressed his lips together.

  I decided to believe him. I wondered if he would be able to stop.

  I wondered if things would be different now, that he had tasted me. Would he be satisfied? Surely he would he want more.

  “Don’t look like that.” He pulled on the shirt and adjusted his shoulders. “I’m a vampire, Farren.” He assessed my expression. He left and returned with a cotton swab and disinfectant. He sat beside me and dabbed it on the marks on both sides of my neck. It felt methodical, like he had done it before. He looked at my face, perhaps apologetically. “Let’s get you some food,” he finally said easing up with an exhale.

  Chapter 9. New Shadow

  He donned his familiar black coat and escorted me to the grocery store, where we bought supplies for dinner—which only I would eat, though I wasn’t sure I minded. I stared at his ghostly face under the fluorescent lights. It was nice to be with him, doing normal things. I blushed as he held doors for me.

  We unpacked the groceries in the loft kitchen and I began to cut an onion. I wondered if with one slip of the knife, one tiny trickle of blood, he would change his mind in a flash. He was studying me as I chopped. Strangely I was exhilarated by the animal look in his eyes. I ignored the bagged blood in the fridge as I placed the rest of the cherry tomatoes away. A nervous feeling rose in my stomach as I ca
ught his eye and lingered, subsiding as my heart beat, pulsing through me, warm and human—his preferred taste.

  “How old are you?” I narrowed my eyes playfully. He had that effect on me and I liked it.

  “I’m…” He breathed. “I’ve lost count.” He seemed dispirited by the question.

  But I wouldn’t let it go so easily. I put the cut tomato in a bowl. I followed him with my eyes. “How old when you were.” I found the word, “turned?”

  “I was seventeen.”

  I shouldn’t have been surprised. “Just a kid?”

  “Yes, it was unfair.”

  Like most things in life, I thought.

  “I’m sorry.” I swallowed. I meant it.

  “Ha,” he considered my sympathy with surprise. “That’s a first,” he said to himself.

  “Sometimes someone caring makes all the difference, understanding…” —it was something that I had learned in Psych class. I concentrated on the chopping again.

  “You couldn’t understand.”

  That irritated me. “I understand loss.” I was taken aback.

  He used the opportunity to turn the tables. “I saw it, in you.” He paused. “We see what humans can’t, details…”

  “What details do you see?” No one could see emotions.

  “It’s hard to explain.”

  “Try me,” I challenged him.

  “We have at least twenty-twenty vision. I heard it’s as good as twenty-two vision.”

  “Twenty-two?”

  “Yes, twenty, slash, two—vision, like a bird of prey.”

  I wondered if he saw every flaw in my face. “Like a hawk?”

  “Yeah,” he admitted with a smile to himself. “An eagle.” He licked the inside of his lips and smirked.

  “But you can’t see the loss in me?” I put down the knife. How far could his powers go? Could he see the dark clouds that hung over me?

  “No—in your eyes.” He leant on the bench. “In your iris, to be precise.”

  “How?” I narrowed my eyes, and took a few tiny sauntering steps towards him.

  He reached for me. I slid into him, resting my head against his coat. I could feel his cold hand on my neck. I liked the sensation, I heard him swallow. I looked up to see the expression on his face.

  “I saw the tiny lines in your iris, many of them; it’s not something you see in someone so young: pain. They are tortured lines, I saw them and I understood.” He gazed at me, his eyes wide.

  “Can I see them?” I wondered.

  “Not like I do.”

  “Do you have them?” I squinted as though I might be able to see.

  “I have nearly as many as you.” He chuckled under his breath.

  “You lost people too?” I asked innocently.

  “Everyone I know.” I wondered if he would one day lose me too. I touched his hand. Lacing my fingers in his, I pulled his hand to my chest linked in mine.

  I stared into his eyes, my heart rate increasing. “Sadie was right.”

  “Yeah?” His crisp breath brushed my face sending prickling down my neck.

  It seemed impossible that he could make all the pain go away but he did. “She said all I needed to do was fall in love.” I hadn’t thought about what I was implying until it had slipped from my mouth.

  He breathed a laugh. “Love doesn’t last.”

  I searched his eyes. Our hands fell.

  He stepped back. “We can’t.”

  “Be in love?” I watched him move uncomfortably.

  He paced in frustration and gathered himself.

  “Why?” I asked.

  “Because I’m a vampire.” His voice was vehement.

  I tensed. Of course he didn’t love me. I knew he didn’t, love hardly ever lasted one lifetime.

  “Farren, I’m sorry but this is impossible.” He was apologetic.

  I felt a fool. “It’s best now to be honest,” I agreed. But it pinched. All the warmth I had felt around me vanished.

  I had to look away. Trust me to shatter my own illusions. What made me think this was possible? Life was a shit fest that destroyed part of you more each day. Until your body was as degenerated as your outlook.

  “I thought what we shared was…I don’t know…” I let out a defeated breath.

  “Vampires cannot be in love with humans…”

  I frowned, fathoming my foolishness. But I did not want to believe it; there must have been a reason. “Did Cyrus tell you to say this…?” I tried to understand.

  “No.” Of course he’d had a piece of me and now he was done. “You know it’s inevitable, we can’t last, this was never a long term thing.”

  “Then why begin something at all?” I asked more upset.

  He broke away. I stood, uncomfortably, as he paced. “You cloud my judgment, Farren,” he growled. His anger startled me.

  I thought it over; he was right—the longer he dragged it out the more I was fooling myself. My heart sank.

  “Tell me what you’re thinking,” he asked his voice low.

  How could I? “Take me home,” my voice rasped. He tried to hug me but I resisted, shrugging him off. My jaw set. My voice fell away. “You’re right.” What am I doing here with him, making dinner?

  He went to say my name. “Fa—”

  “No.” I held it together. My breath was shaky “Maybe we shouldn’t continue…” He was right. Despite my words I wanted him to refuse—to turn me.

  “Last night was a mistake.” I was wrong to have thought it was something more; he had tasted the mud in my veins. “You’re right.” I felt numb.

  “I’m sorry,” he agreed. I tried not to let the falling sensation inside me spread through every inch of my screaming soul. We stood in pained silence.

  Finally he broke the quiet. “I’ll take you home.” He cleared his throat.

  We drove in silence to the dorms. He was right. I felt stupid for thinking it was anything more than a fling.

  He pulled up near the dorms, engine running. “Cyrus shouldn’t hurt you.” He lent across to the glove box and popped it open. “Take this, carry it all the time.” He unwrapped a cloth to reveal a cross, pointed at one end.

  I clasped it as tears welled and spilled over the rim of my eyes. I wished I didn’t look so pathetic.

  “Silver burns our skin,” he advised aloofly.

  What he was saying didn’t matter. It was over. I just had to get out. I quickly grabbed the door but I paused. He touched my arm, but I couldn’t look in his direction. I wished I could just erase every moment I had spent with him.

  “Don’t do anything reckless, please,” he urged. I stilled as more tears surged. He sighed. “The Guard will be watching.” He put the car into gear.

  “But not you?”

  “No.” He faced the windshield.

  I thought to say something sarcastic, hurtful. But I already looked beyond pathetic, unable to stop the falling tears. In the silence he touched the gear stick again, avoiding eye contact.

  I stepped out and closed the car door against my every instinct and I ran up to the building and didn’t stop until I had slammed the door behind me and like a cliché I bawled on the bed into my pillow, feeling more alone than before I knew him. I could hardly breathe as the sadness welled inside me.

  He was a killer. He was dangerous. For the sake of everyone I had left, I should remove him from my life. But that was why I was so intensely attracted to him. What life did I have?

  After hours of sobbing, with a sick sadness, I found my way to the dresser drawer and took a few pain killers to help me sleep. I knew in the back of my mind that he would leave me but for that brief moment I let myself believe that it wasn’t all bad. That despite everything thrown in my way, I could go on. But the rug had been pulled out from beneath me.

  He had been a distraction for me for a time, a brief respite, and now I had to suffer the agony of living without him. I needed time to process what had happened, to come to terms. I wished Cyrus would come and take
it all away.

  *

  Days passed, then weeks, the summer came and went. He didn’t come back. I was under a grey cloud, darker than before. I looked for signs of vampires. I found myself wondering about the Guard. Joe had never explained what they did.

  I looked at the address book tucked down the side of the mattress one morning after waking drowsy from a tortured sleep. I knew with determination what I would do next. The mundane wouldn’t ever suffice; not now I knew something else existed. I clasped the address book in my fingers.

  Chapter 10. Underworld

  They say things come full circle. That night I walked through the park. I waited on the bridge in the darkness. It was winter, and the snow had fallen, lightly coating the ground. The sky was filled with mottled grey misty clouds backlit by the full moon. I was strangely at ease with my decision until the time crept closer.

  I stood up as he approached. My heart beat in my chest. “You look pale,” I joked, despite my nerves. I wondered how long he had been there as steam misted from my mouth in the crisp air.

  “You look simply delectable.” Cyrus was the only person I met that seemed to have not only two accents but two styles of speaking. He was a chameleon. Despite the weather he was dressed in a T-Shirt. “Your blood is sweet.” He drew in air. His manner seemed more like Joe now. “O blood—pure,” he eased closer as though drawn with another breath. “Delicious.” He held his expression as though intoxicated by the scent. He was second best, if I couldn’t have Joe.

  I took my chance. “Here.” I pricked my finger with a pin. The blood bubbled as I squeezed it. Then I touched it to my mouth. I lazily ran my eyes over his muscular body, as the cherry red blood coated my lips.

  Then I stepped towards him and touched my finger to his lips, sliding my finger across his parted mouth.

  I watched as he stiffened. Before I knew it he was against me, his mouth parted. I bowed back but he held me. I reached into my pocket as I used my other hand to guide his chin to my mouth. I pressed my bloody soft lips to his, parted to taste the saccharine coffee flavor of his breath as he pressed his icy lips to mine, the metallic taste of my blood coating my warm tongue.