by Angie Martin
I nuzzled my cheek into the pillow and shut my eyes. Seeking to replace the comfort of Dark Man with the blanket, I pulled the fabric tighter against my chest.
“You can’t leave me now.”
Distress boiled in my gut as Mr. Smith’s voice rattled my soul. This wasn’t me. I was a chronicler, not a blood seeker. I hadn’t left my family and friends behind – my career and entire life – to ingest blood from another and find warmth in Dark Man’s dangerous seduction.
“Maybe I’ve been trying to deny that I feel anything for you, and that’s not working for me anymore.”
Unbidden tears escaped my eyes as reality set in. Whatever inside of me that remained human silently cried out for Mr. Smith. I had also denied any emotion toward him outside of irritation and contempt. Anything to hold him beyond arm’s length. I wished I hadn’t done that so many times.
But, now… I was lost. Lost to him, lost to myself. In no time at all, nothing of that woman would remain. I would become a monster for him to slay. Maybe, I already was. I let my tears flow as I drifted back to sleep.
Chapter Thirty-two
P ain wracked my midsection, waking me from dreamless sleep. My arms wrapped around my stomach, and my knees raised to my chest in a fetal position. I squeezed my eyes shut, willing away the torturous, sharp cramps that seized me.
Another set of footsteps approached the bed, but they did not belong to Dark Man. A figure neared the bed, and I opened my tear-filled eyes to see the silhouette of a woman, possibly the one who had been in my room earlier. I had forgotten about her and the other two blood seekers. Had she never left?
Her body sat next to me on the bed, and I rolled over to face her. My eyes narrowed, my head shook ever-so-slightly. Hallucinations must be common in my state, I thought. Or else, I’m in a dream.
But, as she spoke, her words reinforced that she was there. That she was real. “You have no idea how envious I am right now,” she said.
“What… what are you doing here, Liz?” I asked, still not quite believing my eyes. The pain lifted from my abdomen and settled in my heart. Brent, and now Liz? What world had Mr. Smith brought me into?
“You haven’t figured it out yet, have you?” She sighed and crossed her arms, demonstrating her impatience.
I thought about all our time together, all the laughter, memories. How we’d encourage each other or hold each other up during bad moments. From the time we met, we had been inseparable. Never once had she exhibited any blood seeker behavior. She didn’t smell like one, either. “But, you’re not a…” The words seemed too strange to utter, but I managed them anyway. “You’re not a blood seeker.”
“I’m a companion,” she said. “I was tasked to find you and stay with you in case you were called as a chronicler.”
“You can’t be.” My mind wandered to Mr. Smith’s explanation of a companion’s role. “You… you let them feed on you?”
“Of course, I do. You’ve experienced it now.” She leaned over and clucked her tongue. “Better than the best sex, isn’t it? And, speaking of sex—”
“But, you can’t be a companion. You’re my best friend. We spend so much time together, and we…” I remembered our meeting in the coffee shop. How she just so happened to have a free spot at her table and invited me over. Could it be that our meeting wasn’t accidental? That her bumping into me was part of a farce that shifted into a fast, one-sided friendship?
“All part of the plan, Mads,” she said. “Did you even stop to wonder how they found you at the new hotel after that night stalker spooked you?”
Her betrayal hit me hard – probably what Mr. Smith felt seeing his brother, Brent, as a blood seeker. But, I still had questions. Needed the information should I ever make it back to the complex. “How did you know I’d be called as a chronicler?”
“We didn’t. There are hundreds of companions out there, all saddled with the job of befriending an ancestor of a past chronicler. I happened to be the lucky one who found you. Soon enough, I’ll be rewarded for it.”
“Rewarded?” My stomach churned as a rock sunk inside my gut. I pulled my knees up to my chest once more and clenched my abdomen. The effects of dying, perhaps?
“I’ll be like him. Like what you’re becoming,” she said. “But, don’t think for a second you’ll take my place by his side. He doesn’t care for you, no matter what he says, pet.” She spat the last word at me in cruel fashion. I’d never heard her so vicious.
Something rose into my throat, bile, vomit… possibly something else. I knew there was only one cure. “Blood,” I said. “I need more blood.”
“Oh,” she said, with mock caring. “You mean this?” She lifted the cup of blood off the table beside me. “I don’t think so. I think you’re meant to suffer a bit, aren’t you? Really feel the effects of death.”
Pain gripped my organs, ripping through my torso with a fury like no other. I screamed and clawed at my abdomen, praying for it to stop. “Please!” I begged, before another wail escaped my throat.
She set the cup back down on the table and examined me like a science experiment. “You don’t know how lucky you are. Transitioning from life to death like this. Becoming something more – better than human.”
“Need… blood…” I could barely get the words past my scratchy throat with the agony seizing my body.
“I think you should be grateful I’m letting you experience the full transition,” she said, smiling. “It’s so much better when you get to feel everything, don’t you think? You should be grateful to—”
“What are you doing?” Dark Man’s voice thundered through the room, and he was soon at my bedside. He lifted Liz and shoved her away from me.
“I was just getting her some more blood,” Liz said, her repentant voice meek and childlike. “I didn’t move fast enough and—”
“How dare you make her wait! Out!”
Without another word, her footsteps scurried out of the room.
Anticipated relief from the anguish filled me as Dark Man sat on the edge of the bed and helped me to sit. The cup touched my lips, and I gulped down the blood. As the liquid flowed down my esophagus, it coated my decaying organs, easing the pain.
He took the cup away from me. “You have to drink slowly,” he said. “I’m sorry, pet. I should have never left her with you.”
Liz’s role in my demise came back to the forefront of my mind, and defeat mocked me once more.
“What do you need?” he asked. “Anything you ask shall be yours.”
“Drain me,” I whispered, tears flooding my eyes. “End my life.”
“You wish for that now,” he said, his fingers tangled in my hair, “but not for long.”
My heart heavy, I could only think of one other thing. “Then, drink from me. Paralyze me again so I don’t feel this slow death.”
“Not for a couple more hours. We can’t let the virus move too quickly through your body.”
My requests denied, I said, “Please don’t let her in here again. I can’t bear the pain.”
“She will be punished for her actions,” he said. “But, we need her blood to feed you. Once your transition is complete, she will be sent to another nest far away from here, and she will become food for them. You won’t have to worry about her ever again.”
If becoming a blood seeker was my fate, at least Liz would face the consequences for her part in it. I’d have to find satisfaction in that.
“I have to leave you, but I will return shortly. Then, I’ll stay with you until you are one of us.”
The thought of being alone again terrified me, but I also wanted Dark Man to leave. I slipped back down on the bed, under the warmth of the blanket, and watched him retreat. Between Brent, Liz, and my impending death, this nightmare could not get much worse.
An explosion racked the house, shaking the bed. At first, I thought it to be an earthquake, but the nearing sounds of battle painted a new picture in my mind. Mr. Smith. He had come for me, though too late. The
idea of him seeing me like this… He’d have no choice but to take my head.
I expected Dark Man to rush in and steal me away, but he never came. Minute after minute passed, shifting into what seemed like hours. Maybe everyone had perished, and I would be left to the whimsical throes of death.
When someone entered my room, I sucked in my breath and tried to stave off the growing aching of my body. Mr. Smith’s face appeared above me, concern cinching his features as he took in the sight of me. He checked my skin where Dark Man had feasted and shook his head.
I grimaced and clenched my teeth against the pain. I needed more blood, and fast. But, who would feed me now?
“Kill me,” I said. “I’m infected.”
“Never,” he said. “There’s got to be another way.”
“You don’t have a choice. I need… I need more blood.”
He fumbled with a knife and slashed at one of the wounds on his arm. “Then, take mine.” He lowered his forearm to my lips.
I grasped his arm with both hands and reluctantly drank from him as the tears raced from my eyes, crossing my temples and soaking into my hair. Remembering Dark Man’s warnings not to drink too quickly, I slowed myself and released Mr. Smith from my mouth.
He lifted the bottom of his shirt and wiped my lips. “Let’s get you out of here.”
“No,” I said. “You have to kill me. I can’t stay like this.”
His palm cupped my cheek. “We will find a way to fix this. I don’t care how long it takes.”
The firmness of his tone convinced me, and I nodded. He tucked the blanket under me, lifted me from the bed, and cradled me in his arms. He carried me through what I thought was my tomb, avoiding the corpses of blood seekers along the way. When he laid me down in the back of an SUV and told someone to drive, I closed my eyes and allowed myself to sleep peacefully.
Chapter Thirty-three
T he café where I first met Mr. Smith a million years ago was a most comforting sight, despite having shared time with Liz there. As I wandered to the back room, where Mr. Smith had come into my life, I smiled at his figure – this time, unbound – sitting at our table.
Realizing we were in another shared dream, I understood that he had truly found me and taken me away from Dark Man. That hadn’t been a dream. My questions for Mr. Smith bounded out of my mouth. “How did you find me?” I asked, standing at the edge of the table. “How did you even know where to look?”
He glanced down at the white, paper tablecloth, a child caught in the act. “I placed a tracker in one of your shoes.”
The revelation didn’t faze me. As Keira had said, he was quite stealthy. The old me would have ranted and let anger take control. But, I should have known he would do something like that to keep tabs on me. Just in case. Besides, I was safe. Alive. I could not be angry at him for saving my life, again.
I lowered myself into the seat across from him, and we spent a few moments in warm silence, staring into each other’s eyes. I no longer experienced irritation around him, nor any form of contempt. In the room, dying at Dark Man’s hands, I had come to accept my feelings for Mr. Smith, whatever they were and wherever they might lead.
“You look good,” he said, breaking the stillness between us. “You have no idea how scared I was when I found you.”
“I’m sure this isn’t what I look like outside of this dream,” I said.
The corner of his mouth tweaked upward. “You’re looking better out there, too.”
“How am I still alive? Or, am I still alive?”
“You are,” he said. “You’ve not breached death yet, and you won’t.”
Half-alive, half-dead. In a perpetual state of dying. “How long has it been?”
“The doctor induced the coma a week ago. We had to keep you under until we knew how to save you.”
Hope swelled in my chest. “And, did you? Save me?”
His smile fell, crushing my spirits. “You’re alive, but you’ll always have the virus inside of you.”
The revelation brought back every bit of fear I experienced with Dark Man. “I don’t understand. How am I still alive then?”
“It took time to find something to substitute for a cure. Every day, we’ve fed you half a pint of blood, and you’ve improved in your condition. We think that, soon, the virus will weaken and you won’t need blood daily. But, you’ll still require it on occasion – most likely weekly – so the virus doesn’t take control and kill you.”
I leaned back in my seat and let out a heavy breath. I didn’t want to live as a blood seeker, but this almost seemed worse. A time bomb inside of me that could go off if it wasn’t fed. What if something changed in the future and the transformation into a blood seeker continued? Completed?
From across the table, Mr. Smith’s hand landed on mine. “You’re going to be fine, Madison. There’s nothing to worry about.”
But, I still worried.
“If something happens and I turn—”
“Nothing will happen,” he said.
“If it does, I want you to be the one to end my life. It’s only right.”
Much like before the mission, when I had asked him to promise me the same thing, he hesitated.
“Promise me, Spencer.”
He squeezed my hand and said, “I want to go somewhere else. Somewhere more pleasant.”
I narrowed my eyes, wondering what he meant. In a blink, the scenery around me changed, and we stood on the balcony at the complex. The sun crowned the mountains, just as it had the first night he took me there.
I wandered toward the edge, halting at the railing. “It is much nicer here,” I said wistfully, gazing at the beautiful scene before me.
Mr. Smith stepped up beside me, close enough that our arms brushed against each other. “Much better,” he said.
“How do we keep finding each other in a dream?” I asked, afraid of the answer.
His shoulders heaved with several deep breaths. “I don’t mind so much,” he said.
The words floated around us, and in that moment, I wished I could read his mind. Taking a chance, I turned my body to face him, and I slipped my hand around his upper arm.
He also turned, stepping an inch closer so our bodies collided, but he didn’t move beyond that. I stared up at him, into the eyes I’d come to adore, and lost myself in the reflection of his soul. Still, he remained static, no matter how much I silently begged him to do something.
I remembered our previous kiss – the passion and anger combined – and realized he wasn’t about to make that mistake again. Yet, I was also too afraid of… everything.
“Madison—”
Lifting up on my tiptoes, I reached for his face, silencing him. My hand caressed the stubble across his cheek, and he finally lowered his mouth to mine. As the kiss intensified, waves of emotion crashed into me. I pressed into him, letting him know in that moment that I was his, despite knowing that it would not go any further than this. Not in a dream, at least. Maybe not even outside of one.
But, the kiss continued, neither of us able to take enough from each other. The man had saved my life, more than a few times, yet it had nothing to do with how I saw him. There was something more between us – it had been there since the moment we met in the bookstore, though unrecognized by either of us. Or, maybe we did see it, but chose to push it away. No matter how it started, no matter how we reacted to it, this was how I wanted it at that moment. In his arms, driven over the brink by his lips, his hands…
“Spencer.”
The familiar voice broke through the dream, and suddenly, I stood in my bedroom at the complex, no longer lip-locked with Mr. Smith. I looked around to find him leaning back in a recliner, one that had been moved in my room since the last time I saw it. His eyes opened, he breathed deeply, and he stared at the door as he came into consciousness.
“Hey, Spence,” Keira said. “Sorry to wake you.”
He shook his head, as if gathering his bearings. His gaze traveled to my bed, and I
followed it. I slept quietly, a ventilator in my mouth and an IV connected to my arm. There were other things, machines, tubes, equipment I didn’t recognize. I realized that while Keira had broken through my shared dream with Mr. Smith, I was still lost in that world, but somehow able to see and hear their interaction.
“It’s okay,” he said. “What’s up?”
“You should really eat something,” she said. “You’ve been asleep for a while now.”
He glanced back at my form on the bed.
“I know you don’t want to leave her,” Keira said, “but I can sit with her while you eat.”
“Do you mind just bringing me something in here?”
Keira crossed the room and stood over him. “You’ve barely left her room since we brought her back.”
“And, I don’t plan on it until she wakes up.” He rose from the chair. “Tell you what. If you can bring me something to eat, I’ll stay here with her.” He walked to my bedside and took a seat in an empty chair next to my body. Staring down at me, he asked, “Is it time for the doctor to take more blood?”
“Spence, you can’t keep up like this. I know you want to make sure she’s good, but you don’t have to be the only one giving her blood. Garrett is also compatible—”
“No,” he said.
“It’s too much blood,” she said. “The doctor said—”
“It’s going to be my blood and mine alone. I don’t want anyone else having to do this. Besides, she’ll be awake soon.”
“What makes you say that?” Keira asked.
He smiled at me, and his tongue wet his lips as if he still tasted me on them. The gesture set my heart into an irregular beat, and a beep on one of the monitors indicated it.
His smile grew as he stared down at me. “Oh, I have a feeling it’ll be real soon.”
Chapter Thirty-four
Five weeks later…
T he feather pen dipped into the black of the inkwell. I wondered how much to shake off the tip before touching it to paper, but gave it a try anyway. Black ink soaked into the paper, not too heavy, but enough to see the words I wrote: The Chronicler.