In truth, however, nothing can make me more uncomfortable than facing the reality of what I’ve just done.
I drank blood. Human blood. I drank it and it fueled me and it made me feel alive and invigorated and raw and whole. It satiated that deep thirst that was ebbing through my bones, that thirst that was unlike any I’ve felt before.
I sit on the edge of the bed and finger the gemstone on the ring. Raul’s gift. I can’t believe he’s been watching me for so long. How many years have I been known by the Sorens? He said something about the celestial charts, and how my birth was written in the stars…
Even a month ago, I would have found that difficult to believe. But now? Now, it seems like the most plausible explanation in the world.
I look at my hands. I open and close my fingers slowly. I curl them in and look at my nails. I feel the claws hiding just underneath the skin, claws that I can push out at any time…
These are the hands of a killer.
Everything about my body is now focused on one thing: Death.
Death, killing, and murder. My enhanced hearing, my acute sense of smell, the strength within my muscles… all of it makes me a perfect killing machine.
Is that what it means to be a vampire?
I want to feel sad and repulsed at what I’ve become—at what I’ve had no choice but to become—and yet I do not. I cannot muster up the requisite feelings for those emotions.
Instead, I feel a growing sort of… excitement. The world has opened up to me in a spectacular new way. I won’t age. I can’t catch disease. If everything I’ve learned about vampires is accurate, I’m bound to live forever, to remain in this body for all of eternity…
That is a fascinating thought. Yet I don’t feel excited enough. I don’t feel enthused enough.
Could the ring be tempering my excitement?
For a few minutes I debate taking it off. I don’t know what will happen if I do. Will I be overwhelmed by the bloodlust? Or will I be able to control it, since I’ve recently fed?
In the end, I decide to leave it on. Better to not take any unnecessary risks.
Not this soon.
A knock on the door makes me leap up. “Come in,” I say, quickly composing myself to try to look less like a startled sheep.
The door slowly creaks open… and Patricia steps to the threshold.
She looks horrid. Her face is gaunt and her eyes are rimmed with red. There are tear trails on her cheeks that she hasn’t bothered to wipe away. She’s wearing a tattered white shirt, translucent enough that all the hard angles and jutting bones of her body clearly show.
Her arms and legs are thin, frail, and borderline wasted away. She keeps her eyes glued squarely to the floor.
“I’m sorry if I’m disturbing you,” she says. Her voice quavers. “But I had nowhere else to go.”
“You’re not disturbing me,” I say quickly. I hurry to her. “Come in, please, close the door. It’s wonderful to see you!”
She shies away with every step I take. I don’t understand why—but then it hits me.
The vampire hierarchy of power.
Patricia is so weak that I can barely feel she’s a vampire. And me? Well, my powers are so far above her that she might as well be a candle flame held up against the sun.
I stop halfway to the door. “Patricia, you don’t have to worry about my strength,” I say. “We’re friends. I know how you helped me escape. I owe my life to you.”
She glances at me. I see true terror in her eyes. I wonder if a stronger vampire has ever given her permission to be treated as a friend.
“Truly?” she whispers.
“Yes.” I say. “Now come in, and tell me what’s wrong. You’ve been crying—where’s Jacob? Is he with you?”
“No… no. Jacob’s dead!” She emits a sordid sob and rushes to me.
I catch her and let her cry against my body, doing my best to lend her comfort as she relates the horrible tale of her husband’s fate.
“And after Phillip fed,” she finishes, “that awful new guard, Captain Commander Smithson, he released me and told me that I was free to go. I didn’t know where else to turn. Jacob was my life—he was everything to me! And now he’s gone, and I have nothing, nothing to live for, nothing left, nothing at all...!”
She collapses into another round of helpless sobs.
“I can’t get Jacob back,” I tell her, after giving her appropriate time to grieve. “But I can offer you my friendship. And—” I hesitate, “— my protection.”
She looks up at me. “Really?”
“As much as I can give,” I say. “But I have to be honest. I don’t know the extent of my influence or even my powers. But if you stay close to me, I will do everything I can to help.” I take her hands in mine. “I just need you to promise me one thing.”