“That’s fine, but you will stay here. I need you close in case something happens and we need to get you inside. There will be no going up to a mountain top to see the sunrise, ok!”
“Ok.”
The doorbell rang and they heard the door open and shut again. Then, they heard Danielle’s voice call out, “It’s me.”
“Come down,” Jeremiah called with his gravelly voice. Then he turned to Alex. “I am not going to tell you what is in this.” He waved the syringe in the air.
“That’s ok.” Alex curled his lip. “I don’t want to know.”
Danielle entered the lab and came to his side. “So, the time has come.”
“Yes, and I’m glad you’re here with me.”
“I am always with you when you need me, Alex.”
“If something happens to me, what will happen to Jaiden?”
Danielle looked at him in a reprimanding way. “There will be no questions like that. Have faith that it will work.”
“Yes, but still…”
Jeremiah put his wrinkled hand on Alex’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, Danielle and I are here to bring you to the safety of darkness if anything goes wrong.”
“Then I’m ready.”
“Ok.” Jeremiah held up the syringe. “You’ll have to take this every night at least four hours before dawn. It needs time to take effect, which is why I called you here so early.” Jeremiah flicked the syringe with his index finger.
“I’ll give you a week’s supply. When you run out, come see me and I’ll do some tests and give you another week’s supply.”
“I understand.”
“I’m just going to inject you now to make sure you don’t have any side effects to the formula itself.”
Alex nodded, took off his jacket and set it aside. Then, he rolled up his sleeve and sat in one of the chairs by Jeremiah’s table. He felt no pain when Jeremiah stuck the large needle into his skin.
He closed his eyes and let it flow through his veins. Nothing out of the ordinary happened. For some reason, he had expected it to be a bit more eventful.
“I don’t feel anything.” He opened his eyes to find Jeremiah staring at him intensely.
“You’re not supposed to.” Jeremiah sat down across from Alex. “Now, we wait until sunrise and see if it really works.”
Alex glanced at the clock. It was only twelve thirty. So, he had to wait around for hours to see if he was going to die. He rolled his sleeve back down and put his jacket on. Jeremiah went to his computer and started typing again.
“Let’s go outside.” Danielle took his hand and led him up the staircase and out the door. Once on the porch, they seated themselves on the wooden swing which hung from chains attached to an overhang.
Alex thought it was a perfect place to sit. There was a spectacular view of the lake, which was surrounded by lush, tree covered mountains. The glittering stars of the night made their way around a half moon and were mirrored in still waters of the lake.
“Are you afraid?” Danielle asked him.
“Yes.”
“You were never afraid before.”
“You tell me not to be afraid…to trust you, and I do, but I’m still scared of burning to death. Now, there is so much more at stake. I want to be alive to see all this through.”
Danielle examined his face. “So, you are starting to care for Jaiden already.”
He laughed lightly. “How could I not?”
Danielle continued, “And I know you, Alex, I know you are beginning to have feelings for Isabella.”
Alex sighed. “I can’t help it. She’s just so great with Jaiden…and beautiful too. I don’t know how I’m supposed to live around her for so many years. Yet at the same time, I don’t think I could stand being away from her either.”
Danielle giggled. “Well, it sounds like you have quite a problem on your hands.”
“You mean,” Alex feigned a look of shock, “you aren’t going to give me any advice?”
“Do you need some?” she asked teasingly.
“Nope, I’m just going to have to get over it.”
“You know, Alex, over time, love has driven people to do great things.”
Confused, he asked her, “What are you trying to say?”
“I am trying to ask you if it would be so bad for you to fall in love.”
“Danielle, she is mortal. Someday, I would have to decide if I want her to die or if I want to make her immortal and there is no guarantee that, if I did, she would be able to defeat the evil as Chris and I have.”
“Alex, there are people who see someone one time and that is it for them. They fall in love, then they never get to see that person again, yet that moment of love is what drives them for the rest of their life.”
“You don’t make sense, Danielle. I have to live with Isabella and Jaiden until Jaiden is grown, so how does that fit our situation?”
“It doesn’t.”
Alex hated how she could get him so frustrated with her brief answers. “Danielle, I could never bring myself to make another vampire.”
“Your decisions are yours to make. But remember, sometimes, it is better to live in the moment and have some fun than to worry about what might have been or about what is going to happen.”
“Are you trying to tell me that I am no fun?”
She sighed dramatically. “I’m sorry to tell you this, Alex, but lately, you have been quite boring.”
“What?”
“You heard me.”
Alex pretended to be wounded. “I am not boring; I am a very deep, intellectual man.”
“Yes, and that is why I am telling you this. I am sure Isabella will want to go on a date to the library.” Danielle’s voice was unusually sarcastic as her lips curled into a smile.
“Why are you, of all people, trying to encourage this? I thought you would be like Chris and tell me to deal with it as soon as possible.”
Her smile remained while she grabbed his hand and squeezed it. “All I am trying to say is that everything is going to be all right and that it is ok for you to have feelings for someone, even if she is human.”
“Thank you, Danielle.” He looked at his watch. “It’s not even close.”
“Be patient, Alex, it will come soon enough.”
14
Stewart had not yet cracked even though he had endured more physical pain in the last several hours than he had in his entire life.
Malcolms’ goons had tortured him while Malcolm had stood by and watched. Malcolm had asked him over and over again to help him but with every strike of the whip, Stewart had screamed that he would not.
They had underestimated Stewart. He had even underestimated himself. Stewart had stayed true to the council and his oath.
Because of that oath and his love for the council members, he lay propped up against a stone wall with his wrists cuffed and chained above his head. Blood ran down his arms from the cuts caused by the sharp, protruding pieces of metal on the inside of the cuffs.
With every move, his cuts became deeper. The warm blood ran down his arms and mingled with the blood from the many wounds covering his chest and back. It continued to run down his body until it reached the hard stone floor where it pooled into a large scarlet puddle in which he sat.
Pain, once so fierce, had now numbed him into semi-consciousness. He had tried to use his magic but he was not able to free himself. After he had tried to call the council many times without getting any answer, he gave up.
He wondered if they were trying to reach him as well. Why wasn’t his telepathy working?
The vampire guards spoke openly about how good his blood smelled and how they couldn’t wait to get a little taste.
Stewart was tempted to give them a few little zaps just to prove to them that he wasn’t completely defenseless but he held back his temper. A temper that, even after hours of whipping, was still hard to control.
He knew the only reason Malcolm hadn’t killed him was because he wanted info
rmation. That was another reason he refused to divulge anything. Stewart realized he should have told someone what was going on, but for some reason he had kept it to himself and had hoped that eventually Malcolm would leave him alone. It was very bold of Malcolm to take Stewart because if the council found out, they would try their hardest to slay him.
Stewart would have kicked himself if he wasn’t tied up. It seemed that everything that happened to him involved some kind of pain. When would life deal him a good card?
Stewart heard screams from far away. He figured it was other prisoners. After he had listened for a while, he decided that is it sounded like there were hundreds of them. Why would Malcolm need hundreds of prisoners? Didn’t vampires usually go and hunt their food, and then go on about their business? He could see him bringing home one or two, but hundreds?
He thought the room he was in looked like an underground cave. The damp stone walls had foreign carvings etched into them. There were no bars anywhere, the only things which kept him captive were the chains attached to his cuffs and the guards.
I have to find a way out, he told himself, then thought about the puddle of his own blood in which he sat. There was no way he could move with the amount of blood he had lost.
He knew his only chance would be for the council to find him. He was sure he would bleed to death if he stayed cuffed in the cold much longer.
A few moments later, he heard a commotion in the stairwell leading to his prison. Then, a tall woman emerged onto the landing. She had short black hair and wore very large dangling diamond earrings. Her maroon evening gown shimmered like it was covered in the same diamonds which hung from her ears.
She locked gazes with Stewart. He stared deep into her green pupils; as she breathed in, her eyes briefly flashed red. Slowly, she turned to the guards and told them in a thick British accent, “Malcolm wants him taken to the doctor now.”
“Right away, Miss Levine,” the largest of the guards replied.
“He said to come and get him after they have him healthy enough.” She turned back to Stewart and crouched down over him.
Stewart knew of Levine, though he had never seen her; hardly anyone had ever seen her. She was Malcolm’s lady. The story was that he had never taken another lady besides her and she had remained by his side as his queen for hundreds of years.
Her lips moved lightly over his earlobe. “Your blood smells delicious.”
“Thank you.”
“Oh, young man, you have no idea what I could do to you right now if I wanted to.”
Stewart snorted. “I’ll use my imagination.”
She caressed his face. “It’s lucky for you that my husband wants you alive and untouched.”
“Yeah, that’s lucky.” He couldn’t help the sarcasm.
She removed her hands and stood. “Just be a good little prisoner.”
With that said, she turned quickly, exiting, via the stairs from which she had arrived.
What she said had confused him, though. Why would they want to cause him so much pain and suffering, and then make him well again? It seemed awfully strange to him. But if they were going to fix him, he wasn’t going to argue.
The guards released his wrists from the cuffs. When he was finally free, he slumped to the ground with a sort of relieved weakness.
The two guards grabbed his wrists and yanked him to his feet, which caused him to cry out in pain. Silently, they dragged him, one on each side, up the stairs. They let his body thump each stair as they ascended. The pain was so excruciating in his wrists, back, and chest that he passed out.
When he woke, he lay in what looked like an emergency room. There were hospital beds side by side with green curtains separating them. Little machines sat next to each bed along with a metal stand holding an IV bag.
He lay in one of the beds with only his boxer shorts on and no blanket. He saw that his wrists had been wrapped and he could feel that his wounds on his back had been taken care of, as had the ones on his chest.
Further observation of the room told him that he was still in the caves; the walls and floor were covered with plastic sheeting. He guessed that was their way of trying to make the place more sterile.
When he realized that he was not tied down to the bed, he sat up quickly. A little too quickly. He waited a few seconds until his head cleared and the room stopped spinning, then he swung his feet over the edge and started to get off the bed.
A deep voice stopped him. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
Stewart froze.
A man with light brown hair and a doctor’s coat appeared in front of him. “You would never find your way out of here even if you did get out of this room.”
Stewart was far from surprised to see this man. He knew they wouldn’t leave him unbound and unsupervised. Silently, he lifted his feet back up onto the bed and laid his head back down on the pillows.
“So,” the doctor said, “you are a quiet one, eh?”
Stewart remained silent, and the doctor didn’t say anything else to him. Instead, he took a radio out of his jacket, pushed the button on the side and said, “He’s awake.”
Then put the radio back into the pocket of his white doctors’ coat.
Stewart wondered who he was talking to but didn’t say so. He closed his eyes and figured he would pretend to sleep. Maybe then, they would leave him alone. He heard the doctor sit down at a little desk he had set up in the corner of the room.
A moment later, he heard someone else enter the room.
“Here is the meal that Malcolm ordered for the prisoner.”
“Set it down there,” the doctor replied.
Stewart heard papers and things being moved around before the tray was placed on the desk. Then, whoever had brought the meal left. Even though he was famished, he managed to keep his eyes shut.
“I know you want to eat this, so you may as well open your eyes,” the doctor said.
Stewart did. As much as he wanted to be defiant, he was hungry. Also, the more he ate, the more strength he would get for his attempt to escape.
He opened his eyes. The first thing he saw was the doctor standing over him. Stewart let the doctor help him sit up and then waited for him to bring the tray. The doctor placed it on his lap; there was a giant cheeseburger with the works, French fries, and cola in a plastic cup with a straw.
Stewart wasn’t able to restrain himself any longer; he picked up the cheeseburger and dug into it. The doctor went back to sit down and watch Stewart devour the cheeseburger in a matter of minutes.
When he was done, the doctor removed the tray from his lap and told him to rest. Stewart didn’t want to rest but his eyes were heavy with exhaustion. He lapsed into a deep sleep. Briefly, during his unconsciousness, he heard a male voice asking the doctor if he was ready.
“Not yet,” the doctor answered. “He lost too much blood. It will be a while before he is ready.”
“All right,” the other voice answered. “I’ll tell Malcolm.”
The source of the voice left the room and Stewart fell back to sleep, wondering what he needed to be ready for.
15
Alex and Danielle sat in silence and stared out at the night sky. Alex realized how easy it was for them to simply enjoy each other’s company. After a while, he asked, “Have you ever been in love?”
“Once,” she answered without looking at him.
“When and with whom?”
“That, Alex, is none of your business.”
“I told you mine.”
“No.” Danielle was firm.
“Come on, Danielle.”
“Stop it, Alex, I told you I don’t want to talk about it.”
“All right, fine, I’ll stop.”
“Good.”
They fell silent again and listened to the creatures of the night. Crickets made their cricket noises and frogs croaked in turn. Occasionally, they heard a car pass in the distance, and a soft breeze stroked their hair and faces while they gently swung back
and forth.
Eventually, Danielle broke the silence.
“I was nineteen,” she whispered.
Curiosity kept Alex quiet. He wanted to hear her story.
“As you know, when I was alive, I came from a wealthy and upstanding family. I lived in a lovely home and was a proper young woman. My parents arranged for me to be married to a man that I did not love…a man that I did not even know. I couldn’t refuse; it was just the way things were back then. It happened all the time and women spent their lives in service and misery with abusive, horrible men, who did not love them either.
I married him and lived a life of solitude. I never left the house because I was afraid that someone would see my bruises. Each and every night when we went to bed, I could only close my eyes and try to take myself somewhere else. I thought for sure that one day he would kill me, but still I stayed, for my parents and their precious money and stature I stayed.
Then, one day while I was sitting by my bedroom window and staring down into our beautiful gardens, I saw a man down there.
He was wearing a hat with a huge brim. It seemed as if the rays of sunlight we shining down directly onto him. In an earth covered hand, he held a small spade to help him make room for a bunch of yellow daffodils.
He seemed to care for those flowers like they were his children. I watched him take off his hat and pull a stained white handkerchief out of the back pocket of his trousers. Then, he set the spade on the ground and stood; he turned in the direction of my window and wiped the glistening sweat from his forehead.
At that moment, he looked up. Our eyes met and something stirred inside me, something I had never felt before. Yet, even with the distance between us, I knew that if I could see his green eyes from the window, he could see my discolored face, so I turned away in shame.
Every day after that, I would sit in my window and watch him tend to the flowers and plants; he showed them so much care. His hands were gentle and loving when he handled them. I could tell by watching him that he was a good man.
Each evening after supper, I would take a walk through the garden. On one particular evening, I found a single red rose lying atop a stone bench, the same bench where I always sat to read.
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