Blood Crescent

by S. M. McCoy

  My vision blurred and it all faded away until the world was back in the apartment I had in Seattle. It was a shitty little place, but it was home.

  My dad brought home a pie and I could smell it cooking in the microwave, not the same as a fresh oven heating, but he never did like to cook, even if the meal was already made.

  “Got a nice pie from work.” He said over the beeping of the timer. That always meant that it was something that was getting thrown away that night. Not that he was allowed to pull product from being thrown away, but he always thought it was such a waste to throw something away that he could use, just couldn’t afford.

  I walked into the kitchen that night in my pajamas thinking the whole world had forgotten my birthday, even my dad who didn’t even take the day off of work from the bakery department at the local grocery store. He only worked there so that he could get deals on the food, but found out later that they didn’t have employee discounts. He’d probably have been fired if they caught him taking the throw-away stuff home from time to time.

  I sighed remembering that night I didn’t know what my dad was going through, all that mattered was that he forgot my birthday and brought home a pie, but it did smell good. I sat at the table staring at him fiddling with the pie and thinking he was taking an awfully long time to cut and put it on a plate.

  “Did you get whipped cream too?” I asked, a bit hopeful.

  I could see his shoulders slump like he’d failed at something and I fidgeted in my chair uncomfortably, feeling bad for asking. It didn’t take long before I firmed up my own shoulders thinking about how he’d forgotten my birthday and he should be the one uncomfortable, not me.

  He turned around with the pie on a plate and the same candle from many years before sticking out of it. It was my birthday candle. I laughed so hard that my eyes watered and I think I actually was crying, and saw his eyes turn down at the pie and he shakily started singing “Happy Birthday” to me. But it wasn’t long before he was laughing along with me and the pie sat there in between us until he said to me between chortles, “Make a wish, little star.”

  I blew out the candle, in my flannel pajamas, and took up a fork and dug into warm-ish pie—it was still cold in the middle, but I didn’t care. I wished that he wouldn’t struggle anymore, and that I would get to have a real birthday party one day. I blamed my wish for a while when that was the last birthday I’d ever have with him.

  I sat there eating the cold pie, actually tasting it all over again and wishing that in this memory that I had hugged him, because I kept staring across the table wishing that’s what I was doing right then.

  There was a tight, comforting squeeze around me and tried to suck in the tears threatening to escape but they dripped down and pooled on the arm under my head.

  “It’s okay, I’m here,” he said to me and I snapped back to reality. The world seemed as it was before…a mountain loft, a man with a distorted kaleidoscope face the longer I looked, and strangely I was no longer hungry.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  My Angel is a Vampire

  Sunset was making the sky orange and pink. I stared out the window watching it pass over the horizon. As the sun retired, the moon came to dominate the sky.

  He looked over at me. Half his face was always hidden from me ever since I’d woken. When he turned he finally let me see what he’d been hiding the whole time. The side that was facing away from me before was knitting itself together, slowly like invisible healing insects were crawling on his skin. Those angelic features were marred by chunks of scarred and bloodied pieces, like a cheese grater or a clumsy man with a razor hacked his skin off. Was he in a fight? Did he win or barely get away? His face was definitely not injured when I saw him at the charity event.

  I rushed across the room to the window and he was gone by the time I got there.

  “Stop running away from me.” I felt the cool breeze behind me. Spinning around I opened my arms and held myself to his hard torso. “Who did this to you?” I ignored the fact that I was the one who should’ve been running away from him. I had this internal tug, pulling me between irrational comfort around him and the more rational fear.

  He wrapped his arms around me whispering, “Shhh, I am fine. Honest.” It was like he had always been there, a virus implanting itself in my cells concealing itself as normal so the rest of me didn’t attack. My stomach fluttered, but I knew I wasn’t hungry anymore. I had softened to him, and he’d crawled himself into my heart before I even had a chance to defend against it.

  Why did I feel so compelled to care about him? This wasn’t real…was it? I had to get away, didn’t I?

  I pushed away but his arms kept me in place. Releasing his arms I pushed away and furrowed my brow. “Who did this to you?” Why did I care? He was holding me captive, and yet I felt hurt that he was injured. I felt injured.

  “Who do you think?”

  “What does the Shifter have against you?”

  “I can’t drag you into this. There’s always been bad blood between the Shifters and the Drawn.”

  He was pausing to think about his words carefully. He was struggling with my questions. Why?

  He held my face in his hands to look at him, scars and all. Why now? The moonlight was easing its way into the room through the window. Slowly it inched its way from only covering our arms and shoulders then his neck and it washed over his face centimeter by centimeter, in what seemed like slow motion seconds. The light radiated off of him and looked like it was moving on the surface like little glow bugs. His skin was knitting itself back together at much faster pace. The light filled the whole window and we were in the middle of it. He glowed like the angel I remembered that night on the balcony, basking in the moonlight and stars.

  “Who are you?” I felt his face. It was new, unscathed, like nothing ever happened…smooth.

  He turned away from me and hid in the shadows, ashamed.

  “It takes time to re-grow the skin. If it’s damaged, healing is instantaneous. But if it’s gone, it takes a while. I thought you knew. You don’t remember anything.” He closed his eyes and a look of anguish crossed his face briefly before it was replaced with a smile.

  A fake smile.

  It was a perfect smile, like mine when I fooled people. It would have fooled even me if it wasn’t for the moment of sorrow.

  I wasn’t stupid, I knew what was going on here. I touched my neck and looked up at him. He saw where my hand was and the look within his eyes told the lies of his smile. The smile turned somber and a slight nod from him gave me all the information I needed.

  “Not a doctor…”

  A shake of his head and he turned away to sit on the chaise lounge, frustrated.

  “Were you the one who bit me?”

  “No.” He was monotone and only a hint could be detected of disgust at the very question of it.

  “Do you know who?” I already knew the answer to that one.

  “Yes.”

  “Who?” I wanted him to admit it, to actually say everything that was on his mind, to quit holding back.

  “The Shifter.”

  “Why do you call him that?”

  “He is a type of vampire that can change appearances. Usually they can only maintain the form of the last person they touched or fed on, but this one is different. He has abilities I’ve never seen a Shifter exhibit, ever.” I shuddered, thinking how many times I might have seen a Shifter and never have known it.

  “What type are you?”

  “The psychic type.” The type that was making me ill…the type causing my time lapses? God, I remembered the hazy moment when I was drugged and covered my mouth with my hands to stop myself from screaming. He practically admitted to feeding off of me. How stupid was I? Falling for a guy that drained my energy so low I felt like I was dying.

  “I don’t attack humans,” he defended, seeing the tension in my muscles at trying to restrain my aghast. He sped up his explanation when he saw no change in my demeanor. “I’ve
only fed off of the residual energy at parties and gatherings.” He stood his ground like he didn’t need to defend his actions to me.

  His shoulders stiffened and his jaw was tight, I could hear it in his voice—it was strained. I offended him and I could feel my belly twist at the thought. Even my saliva tasted like copper as the feeling of remorse at accusing him filled me. But I was right, I knew I was right.

  “Each person emits a small amount of energy, like a leaky faucet just one drop at a time. When they are excited, angry, even frightened or aroused, that faucet is a small steady stream evaporating into the room. Take a large group of people, and I needn’t even be too close to absorb their energy for myself.

  “I repurpose a discarded life force to maintain my existence. I don’t harm anyone…anymore.”

  “So, the charity?” I gulped to get the taste out of my mouth.

  “Just one of the many functions I show up at when I need to.” He sighed from the questions…I could tell he was getting weary of my inquiries. I didn’t have much time left that he would accommodate my inquisitiveness. “But, I’ll admit I was stationed to be at the event to find an anomaly.”

  “Me?” I felt my anger grow. He wasn’t the only one weary of everything. My theory was totally shot to the ground. A wasted bullet. I could sense the dread at all my wasted dreams and that I had no clues as to where they were leading.

  “I didn’t know you were going to be there if that’s what you’re implying.” He breathed in heavily. “I didn’t bring you here by choice. I brought you here because we were both targeted by him, leaving you there wasn’t an option.”

  I stared at him waiting, listening for more, and thinking.

  He wasn’t there to protect me, not really. I was an inconvenience that was dropped into his lap. He didn’t want me here, I wasn’t kidnapped, just saved. That’s what happens when you want to know the truth, you get a big heaping mound of crap. Finally, I decided it was time to let him hate me for being there, but I didn’t have to watch it happen, I turned away and looked out into the night’s moon.

  I felt hurt by this revelation, but I shouldn’t have been surprised.

  “You are an anomaly,” he admitted.

  “Don’t you dispose of those?” I said testily.

  “Yes, but I have no intention of turning you in.”

  My eyes widened. Turn me into where?

  “What do you want from me? Want to hear me say it?” His voice rumbled behind me.

  I didn’t look back, I didn’t need to hear him say anything…not anymore.

  He whispered in my ear, his breath hot and heated, “What do you want to hear from me? That I’m a monster like him? That I’m capable of everything he’s done? I am, and I have.”

  Inhaling a gasp, I held on to it within my lungs and stopped motionless. There was a raggedness to his angelic voice…my angel wasn’t as angelic as he looked.

  I tried to slowly release the air so that he wouldn’t notice my involuntary heavy intake. I coughed instead. The tension built around us to the point where his outlash finally got under me and lifted me into a state of anger. He didn’t want me here anyway.

  “You’re a different kind of monster,” I let out vehemently beneath my breath.

  “Don’t tempt me.”

  A finger trailed along my neck and I shivered.

  “Why’d you even take me here? To make you feel better about yourself?” Grabbing that finger, I yanked it down away from my neck.

  “I’ll take you home tomorrow.” He turned away and my heart ached.

  What about the danger? What about wanting to protect me? What about that moment when he let me touch his face and see what he was? A vampire healing himself in the moonlight. A mysterious man helping a stranger. A monster that only pretended to be one. He wasn’t fooling me, or was he?

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Gone… All of It

  I woke up in the unknown bed, fit for a queen, today, stronger from the weeks of recuperation at what I came to nickname Mount Angel, the castle-like loft in the mountains. It was almost like glamping, just a large room made of what looked like castle construction materials, with a large bed, ornately decorated with old-school foreign tapestries, bedding, sculptures and paintings. It felt like a castle too, a bit drafty but still warm. The windows didn’t even have glass in them, they were just holes in the wall like the archways in a roman villa.

  My angel still hadn’t told me his name. I figured he had his reasons, but after a while I didn’t care because I was feeling better and more alive than I had in a while. I still tried to ask him his name but he grunted and hid in a shadow somewhere when I did. He wasn’t over yesterday.

  When I saw him staring out the window I noticed a letter in the cracked open drawer of a desk where I sat. Okay, so I didn’t notice the letter first. I noticed the drawer and was curious. At the same time that I pushed the wooden chair as I stood I also opened the drawer so that both sounds would happen at the same time. Opened it enough to see a letter, folded and unsealed in a way where all I’d have to do is poke a few fingers in to grab and lift it out. I made sure to turn around and keep looking at him staring out the window, while behind my back I was tweezering some evidence from my mysterious man.

  It was probably nothing…or maybe something…but I didn’t feel bad for snooping on a man who thought it was better to kidnap me instead of doing something normal—maybe, say, bring me to a place where other people were present. Either way, I was currently ungrateful that the dress he had for me didn’t have pockets…but grateful enough that his style choice had open sides, that I could slip the paper through and catch it in the back of my underwear.

  He’d been ignoring me most of the time since he knew there was no where I could go, so it wasn’t difficult to walk to the bathroom area and shut the door.

  I quickly opened the letter as soon as my back was against the door.

  Guardian:

  By the power vested in the Moon Goddess, a mission foreseen by the Oracle, you are summoned to fulfill your duties. As guardian you are bound to protect the Council, maintain order, and ensure the safety of humans from anomalies. In your district there have been two anomalies for your retrieval back to the university. Please report to handling for further instructions.

  Council of the Divine

  Order of the Moon

  Mission Code A-Class

  This was dated over a month ago. What exactly did they do to protect humans from anomalies? I folded the paper and put it in my only hiding place. I ran the water in the sink for a moment then went back out to replace the letter in the desk drawer. He wasn’t at the window anymore. I looked at the desk, at the window, then scanned the room. He was like a ghost.

  Instead of going straight to the desk I couldn’t risk that he could see me, so I went to the window and sat on the cushioned built-in alcove at its base, with my letter pressed to the wall. Keeping my secret safe, and making sure I could see from all angles, but I ended up being distracted by the view of the mountains. It seemed unreal.

  There was no door. Just a window. I leaned to look down at the steep drop to the jagged rocks below. The wind drifted in my face letting the curtains roll like gentle waves to my side, but it wasn’t cold. I looked at my bare arms and felt them. Rubbing them as if I should be feeling the wind’s chill, but I didn’t. I felt numb, and for a brief moment I thought about what it would feel like to have the wind rush against me before meeting the rocks below. I didn’t think about escaping; I believed him when he said he’d take me home today.

  “Are you cold?” he asked. There was no point trying to look for him; he’d try to hide himself from view either way. I continued to stare off into the vanishing point, the point where everything converged and distance was too far to see.

  “No?” I questioned even my own senses. It was the mountains after all, I should be cold…shouldn’t I? Not even my skin noticed the wind, being free of bumps or the pale rashes of blood burrowing to the core to c
onserve more heat.

  “I forget to ask sometimes. I have never felt the briskness of a wind’s chill. I was born this way.” The very idea of him being born as a vampire startled me. Was that even possible? What did he do, come out of the womb fully grown? I thought vampires didn’t age. I had so many more questions that I was incapable of asking, so I just said the truth.

  “I find it hard to imagine that.” I should have been shocked that he was admitting to me that he was one of them, a vampire, but I wasn’t. I had known all along, I only wanted him to admit it and tell me the truth. I sat there solemn, imagining what a life born as a vampire would be like.

  “Very few vampires are created the way fiction portrays us. They have a myth handed down by generations from one instance of vampires sucking blood, or biting someone and turning them into us, and it becomes a misnomer for us all. Very few survive the virus of a bite; it’s a 99.9 percent certainty of death. It’s why we banned feeding that way after the Blood Wars.”

  Finally, I wanted to say to him. I had been waiting for so long to be told the truth, to not believe I was going insane, to know for certain that the serpents were real. His kind took my mother, his kind could help me find her.

  “So being bitten is a death sentence.” I closed my eyes and leaned my head against the wall behind me. I felt the wind upon my skin, but like him I didn’t feel the chill of its touch like I used to.

  “Not if the person has the gene. A genetic anomaly that attaches to the virus and either repels it, neutralizing its effects, or integrates it, transforming its host into the virus itself. But most vampires are born when two people mate with the same anomaly, and even that is chance based on how strong the anomaly is. But being bitten is called the serpent’s kiss—most of the time it’s a kiss of death.”

  I looked toward where I heard his voice to see him sitting on the ledge of the window, legs dangling off the side and his black hair with white roots sweeping across his thoughtful face. He wasn’t looking at me, even he was captured by the landscape around us.