Grave Burden

by P. Anastasia

  “That monster saved my life,” he hissed, squeezing my fingers. “After you and that bastard left me to rot in my own backyard.”

  “It was a mistake. I’m sorry for what happened to you,” I said, making a feeble attempt to pull my hand away. “We didn’t know.”

  “Are you sure he didn’t know?”

  No… But, he wouldn’t have…

  Would he?

  No!

  I trusted Matthaya.

  “He wouldn’t lie to me,” I replied. My voice wavered. “Why would you suggest such a thing?”

  “If you say so,” he replied, turning my hand over to caress my palm in a circular motion with his thumb. “Have you missed me?”

  His hand slipped down to my wrist and clutched me tightly. An intense urge to distance myself from him electrified me.

  “It must have been hard going on without me,” he said with a raspy voice. His vivid eyes fixated on mine as he lifted my hand.

  I tried to pull free again, but my body felt heavy and slow, difficult to move, as if time had come to a crawl. In my mind, I thought to escape his grasp, but in reality, I hadn’t moved an inch.

  Derek jerked me forward and sank his fangs into the skin of my upturned wrist.

  A searing burn jolted through me and my vision faded to black. A twisting, ripping sensation spiraled into each nerve, making me convulse.

  Then I gasped, the air knocked from my lungs by the sheer force of him slamming my body against a wall that had appeared from out of nowhere.

  I could see again, but things were different.

  It was bright. Artificial light stung my eyes.

  Everything was blurry, but I knew we weren’t in the cemetery anymore.

  Derek planted both hands near the sides of my head, pinning me against the phantom wall. As he leaned in closer, his hot breath against my throat made the hairs on the back of my neck perk up and goose bumps rise along my arms.

  His body felt warm—something vampires are not.

  The air became uncomfortably stuffy and my head started to spin as his fingertips crept across my collarbone.

  “Don’t fight it, Kathera,” he whispered as his lips dragged up my cheek toward my ear.

  Why can’t I get away? I was frozen, unable to move.

  A great hunger roiled inside him and it was as if he had opened up his mind so that I might witness his lust for me simmering there.

  He wanted all of me, and he further established his intentions by wrapping his hands around the jut of my hipbones and forcing my body to be flush with his.

  I groaned reluctantly and turned my face to the side.

  “You wanted to give in before, didn’t you?” he asked and kissed me behind my ear. “I felt it in you.” A hand slipped up under my shirt. “You wanted me, but you wanted to wait.” His fingers walked up my ribs. “Wait for… what was it again?”

  He knew damn well the answer to that question.

  “Well?”

  My lips quivered. I was so weak, I trembled. The room was closing in on me, and the only thing I could hear was his voice—his desperate, angry words, taunting me.

  “Matthaya!” I tried to cry out, but it wouldn’t manifest from my lips.

  “No,” Derek corrected, sneering in disagreement and shaking his head. “No. I don’t think that was it.” He kissed the base of my neck and slid his tongue up to my throat. “Ah. I remember.” He took a deep breath and exhaled on my skin. “You wanted to wait until you were married.”

  I drew in a heaving breath and then coughed. My throat was so dry, I could hardly breathe. Sweat beaded on my forehead and I felt smothered.

  Everything I was experiencing was human, but how?

  The hand on my hip released me and latched onto my wrist, pressing my arm up and back against the wall. My legs shook, my knees were about to give out, and my heart ached more with every inch of my body he touched against my will.

  “Well,” he exhaled into my ear, “I think it’s safe to say that you’re married now.”

  He let go, and I plummeted to my knees. I used every last ounce of strength to call out to Matthaya again.

  Derek loomed over me. I crumpled over in a frantic attempt to put pressure on the oozing puncture wounds on my wrist.

  Our surroundings went dark again and the night sky reappeared overhead, the illusionary walls and lighting fading away. I looked up, my gaze meeting the moon, wishing it would take the pain away.

  Dark burgundy blood trickled down my fingers and I could barely keep my head up.

  “Get away from her!” Matthaya’s voice resonated from nearby. I lifted my face toward the sound but could only see fractals of light and distorted shapes.

  “Matthaya?” I muttered. Cold fingers grasped my shoulder and Matthaya’s presence grew as he knelt beside me.

  “Are you all right?” His words were like echoes, bouncing through endless space.

  “For now,” I uttered.

  He released me and stood. “What did you do to her?”

  “This isn’t high school,” Derek replied, chuckling. “If you don’t know, I suggest you ask her.”

  A deep, animalistic growl rumbled in Matthaya’s throat as he reached for my wrist and turned it over. The growl intensified and he let out a loud, beastly snarl toward Derek. “You… you bit her? You twisted bastard!”

  Derek laughed callously. “Hey, some girls like that kind of thing.”

  Matthaya roared and the earth quaked beneath me.

  “Not that you would know anything about what women want,” Derek continued. “You broke her heart, vanished into thin air, and then later came skulking out of the shadows to try to win her back, only to destroy my life in the blink of an eye. You hurt Kathera, and then you stole her from me, leaving your Sire, Ve’tani, all alone in the darkness. You call me a ‘twisted bastard,’ but you treat women like shit.”

  The tremors rippling through my body slowed and I tried to stand, staggering to catch my balance. Matthaya noticed and helped pull me to my feet. My vision had finally returned to normal, and I gazed down at the festering puncture holes in my wrist. Blood continued to escape, so I brought it close to my face and licked it quickly.

  The reaction between saliva and my open wound caused the blood to bubble up, sizzle, and burn. The throbbing sensation made me cower as the skin began to seal itself closed and the holes began to fade.

  Matthaya clenched a fist. “You’ll pay for this!”

  Derek had already begun to back away from us. “Oh, I know,” he replied with a snarky nod. “In fact, I look forward to it. We seem to have a disagreement that needs to be settled. Kathera’s mine and I’ll prove it.”

  The seams of Matthaya’s coat began to flex and part as his wings threatened to unfold from his back.

  “No!” I reached for his arm.

  He glared at me with vibrant, poison-green eyes flickering angrily. “Why not!?” He resisted me. Stitches ripped, the sound making my sensitive ears twitch. “He bit you! He shouldn’t be alive right now. Ve’tani saved him so he could torment us! Why shouldn’t I put him out of his misery?”

  “I’m eager to hear the answer, myself,” Derek said, grinning at me.

  Our eyes met. The heaviness came over me again, but I fought it back as I stumbled closer to him.

  Matthaya stretched an arm out in front of me to block my way. “No,” he said. “I won’t let you.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said weakly to Derek. “I’m sorry we didn’t know you were still alive when we left you there. I’m sorry that woman did this to you. Please, let us be. I’ve chosen to be with Matthaya. You have to accept that.”

  “I don’t have to accept a damn thing.” Derek bared his fangs and bright yellow light burned behind his irises, casting a soft amber glow around his eyes.

  I felt Matthaya’s temper rising, so I took his hand.

  “Leave us alone,” I said firmly. “Please.”

&nbs
p; Derek bit down and his nostrils flared. Then, after a few moments, the anger and hate shaping his face unexpectedly faded away and he composed himself.

  “Like I said,” he added, glaring at Matthaya, “I’ll prove it. But, until then.” He tipped his head slightly but didn’t break eye contact.

  And in a fleeting moment, he vanished into the darkness, the air swiftly cleansed of his presence.

  The heaviness left me, and I felt stronger, but my thirst for blood had intensified.

  Matthaya’s grasp tightened and he squeezed my fingers. Although rage still coiled inside him, he looked over at me and said, “Let’s go home. We must satiate your hunger before it consumes you.”

  I had Kathera sit on the couch while I put on a fire. As a vampire, she needed warmth less than the fire’s tranquil ambiance and soothing color. I had to do whatever I could to calm her.

  “Wait here,” I said, pressing my fingertips against her shoulder. I left the living room to descend down the basement stairs, where I plucked a bottle from the wine rack, and then returned to her. As I crossed the room toward the kitchen, I saw her cradling her face in her hands while hunching over on the seat.

  The eruption of psychological pain saturating her began to infiltrate me, and a storm of agony, frustration, and regret clouded my mind. Derek had never actually died, although I was certain he had bled to death. At the time, I could not hear a heartbeat.

  How did he survive? When did Ve’tani come back to retrieve him?

  Most importantly—why?

  Ve’tani was not one for sympathetic plights, but she was always keen on strategy, and his becoming a Taken was likely her retaliating against my taking Kathera.

  I twisted the metal spiral of the bottle opener, forcing it down into the cork, and then I turned the handle the opposite direction and withdrew it. The soft plunking sound of the bottle being opened made Kathera look up; her attention shifted to focus on my actions.

  It was not infant blood I poured this time, but it also was not the usual. Since Kathera had wanted to stay in town to work, the inability to travel extensively left the coveted commodity difficult to attain. I made do with what I could acquire. Oftentimes, it was pig blood, and other times, it was something else.

  There are those humans with desires for all manner of things of questionable natures. With enough money, you can find anything, without questions. Still, we reduced our intake of young blood, because it was rare and difficult to procure. Kathera had adapted to what I could provide, and we made do with a lack of variety, even though it meant that our hungers would surface more frequently.

  “Here.” I stretched out an arm and offered her a flute of dark liquid.

  “Thank you,” she whispered, wrapping her fingers around the stem of the glass; I released it into her grasp. She appeared relieved that it did not smell of swine.

  I took a seat beside her on the couch and sipped from my glass.

  “I did not know he was still alive when I had urged us to leave,” I said, glancing over at her. “If I had—”

  “Would you have tried to save him, too?” Kathera looked into my eyes. A glimmer of blood colored her upper lip. “If you’d known?” Her vivid azure irises begged me to respond truthfully.

  “I… I could not have saved you both,” I replied. “I’m sorry. It took much of my own blood to heal your wounds. I couldn’t possibly have done it twice in one night.”

  “How do you suppose he survived long enough for her to return and…” Kathera took another sip from her glass and swallowed.

  “I don’t know. Perhaps when Derek stabbed Ve’tani, her blood spilled on him, clotting some of the wounds. Similar to how I saved you, only far less intentional.”

  “That monster,” Kathera growled. “She didn’t have to do that to him.” She rotated her wrist to reveal the bite mark. It hadn’t yet faded but had lightened, leaving traces of purple bruising where his fangs had punctured the skin.

  “Vampires do not bite other vampires,” I said. “We have no reason to, considering how unsavory vampire blood tastes to our kind. He only did that to prove a point—that you are vulnerable. That you would let him—”

  “I’m not vulnerable!” Blue light flashed through her eyes. “I didn’t know what to do. All this time, I thought he was dead, and that it was my fault Ve’tani had murdered him. But then I found out he was alive, and emotions and memories clouded my judgment. He took my hand and the next thing I knew, I was trapped in a dream state—a place where there was light and warmth and… him. I couldn’t control my body or gather the strength to push him away. Not until you arrived and he released me.” She fell silent, pressing her lips thin and narrowing her eyes.

  “A Sire and Taken may function as one,” I said. “But multiple pairs cannot thrive in proximity.”

  Kathera finished the last of the blood and wiped her thumb across her lip. “He indicated he’d be back,” she whispered, a hint of fear rising in her mind as she set the glass down on the end table.

  “Ve’tani wants you dead, even now. I’m sure of it. But I won’t allow them to take you away from me again.” I glanced over at her and brushed my fingertips across her cheek, trying to display a comforting grin; emotions were harder to convey, now that we shared the dampening effects of the disease. “I will fight for you, but I hope it does not come to that. Derek is not as old or evolved as I am. He hasn’t tested his limits. If Ve’tani doesn’t put him in his place, I will.” I stood from the couch and reached over to the table to retrieve her empty glass. “Are you finished?” I asked.

  She nodded and then pulled her feet up onto the couch and shifted in place, reclining to lay her head against the armrest.

  I turned and made my way back to the kitchen, where I rinsed the two flutes and hung them to dry in a rack above the counter.

  By the time I’d returned, Kathera had fallen into a deep sleep on the couch. Her consciousness had faded from my mind, as if she’d gone into a hibernation-like state.

  The hunger could have done it to her, or the stress.

  Or Derek’s bite.

  I approached slowly and knelt in front of her.

  Since being taken, the subtle, pink undertones of life had left her, leaving her rounded cheeks devoid of delicate color. Shades of blue and purple accented her skin with shadowy, less-than-natural tones. Her hair remained the vivid, dark burgundy red she’d made it, and it framed her innocent round face beautifully still, tumbling over her bare shoulders down to her mid-back.

  She looked peaceful, for once. The suicidal nightmares had ceased, but the struggle to continue her art had filled that void, leaving her frustrated and weary. I did what I could to help, but my loyalty and companionship could not break the unrelenting circle of grief and regret feasting upon her soul.

  Derek had returned to haunt her, by Ve’tani’s command, no doubt. I, too, had been a pet for too long. In the early years, I had listened to and followed my Sire’s every command like a hungry stray.

  Until I broke free.

  Could Derek escape her influence? Did he even desire to?

  He’d begun cultivating a deep hatred for me long before he’d been turned, and that festering anger stayed with him, as our last feelings ultimately do.

  I glanced over at the fireplace. Flames continued to burn, but the light would do little to comfort her, now that she’d fallen asleep. I came to my feet and crouched down, carefully pushing my hands and arms underneath her so I could lift her up from the couch.

  She was lighter than she’d used to be—vampirism had made her body more resilient, but changed the internal structure of her bones and organs, causing much of the water weight to dissolve, as her blood thickened and her veins were less reliant on circulating it.

  Kathera didn’t stir as I lifted her from the couch and adjusted my grasp on her. I carried her into the bedroom and laid her down on the bed. Not a fragment of her consciousness moved through me.

  I walk
ed to the bookshelf beside our bed and slipped out a title. Reading helped pass the time and settle my thoughts, but no words could quiet the turmoil twisting through my brain. I had sworn to keep her safe, but I’d failed her already.

  I sat beside her on the bed and clutched the book in my hands. Kathera’s innocent face mirrored a slumbering angel painted in oils—a vision of art only a master could conjure. But no master artist could alter the reality lurking behind her placid expression.

  Matthaya’s fingers combed through my hair as I slept. His soft touch was comforting, and the safety I felt within his presence allowed me to rest peacefully.

  It was quiet in my mind.

  The emptiness gave me room to create. It was the calm before the storm, when fantastic visions and wild creatures would appear, frolicking across the dreamscape of my consciousness.

  But from that sanctified place of serenity and inspiration, vile things emerged.

  A familiar scent teased my nostrils and I eased my eyes open. Matthaya was gone and the space beside me on the bed empty.

  “You won’t find him here,” a voice spoke from the other side of the room.

  I rolled over. A flicker of amber light emanated from Derek’s eyes as he stood in the shadows at the threshold of the room.

  “How did you…?” My limbs were numb and weak and I strained to sit up.

  Derek crossed the room and sat beside me on the bed. He reached over to drag his hand up my bare arm. The touch felt unusually warm against my skin, unlike Matthaya’s.

  Unlike… any vampire.

  I tried again to move, but an invisible force restricted me, barely allowing me to come up onto my elbows.

  “What’s the hurry?” Derek asked, smirking. His fangs weren’t visible at all.

  “Y-you shouldn’t be here,” I said, trembling as his fingers inched toward my neck.

  “You want me here, though, don’t you?” he asked in a softer tone, leaning over me.

  I…

  I couldn’t reply.