Hera, Love & Revenge

Hera #05

To my surprise, we leave the house shortly after nightfall with just a quick goodbye to Cata. Still no sign of Richard, but from Cata and Bart's attitudes, it's apparently normal. For some reason, I'm both nervous and curious to see him again. It's strange. I feel like he's... the foundation for this new life I've just taken my first breaths in. I keep looking for him unconsciously.

For now, though, Bart is my guide. We walk away from the mansion, and I just start to realize how rooted their home is in London. From the outside, it's like any other house on the street. It even looks somewhat better kept than the other houses; the paint seems fresh and there isn't a single leaf on the lawn...

"Disappointed?" scoffs Bart.

"Yeah. I was expecting spiderwebs and bats."

"We used to have rats," he chuckles, "but we have a house cleaning service that comes in twice a week, and Cata's a bit of a cleaning freak if you haven't noticed."

I chuckle, and he offers me his arm, helping me walk around. One thing I had forgotten is that London is full of old cobblestone streets, a nightmare for heels... Thankfully, my legs feel stronger. Like, really strong. I don't shake, I don't waver, and if there's a hint of unsteadiness, my body adjusts in a millisecond. I feel like one of those models who walk effortlessly in twelve-inch heels when I used to always feel like a baby deer even in the shortest ones. I've never felt so... in tune with my body, nor this strong. I don't feel like I could lift a truck, but I can take long strides without the slightest fear of face-planting despite these high heels, which is definitely a win.

"So," I ask, "what's the lesson? I still don't understand why I'm dressed like I'm about to audition for a gothic adult movie."

"I've seen you with kinkier s**t on." He chuckles, glancing at my legs.

"So you really did see that stupid movie…" I groan.

"I looked you up, Miss Starr. I'm kind of curious though. You were on track for one hell of a career, and it suddenly went downhill. I hate the mainstream s**t, but you didn't seem that bad of an actress either."

"Isn't it rude to ask about someone's death or something like that?"

"I'm not asking about your death, Baby Vamp. I'm asking about why the tabloids said you left the public scene for months out of the blue. I looked it up. You were one of the most promising young actresses of your generation, represented by one of the biggest acting agencies, and all of a sudden, things started going to s**t. What happened?"

I don't want to answer. I thought I was getting a clean slate by transforming, not that I would have to answer questions like it's a f*****g press conference all over again. We walk a bit more, but Bart's still waiting, and this is awkward. I sigh.

"Some... things happened. Did you read about the accident?"

"Yeah, and that wasn't your fault. The guy was literally chasing you and he had a car accident that was bound to happen."

"It doesn't change the fact that a man died because I didn't let him take a photo," I mutter. "...He had two kids, Bart."

"Yeah, and you were twenty years old."

"Alright," I declare, "but if you ask questions, I get to ask some too."

"Oh, feel free to." He shrugs, amused. "I'm an open book and an incredibly boring one at that. Bartholomew Heartgraves, nice to meet you. Tell me what question tickles your little mind."

"How old are you?"

"I died at twenty-two. Want to guess what year?"

"Well, I already know you're a century older than Cata, so that's a bit scary... 1800 something?"

"I'm flattered." He chuckles. "Born and raised in London in 1644, I died in 1666. So, yeah, nothing as grand as an acting career to report. I was an apprentice in a workshop, which honestly tells you all you need to know about my future prospects."

"How did you...?"

He chuckles.

"1666," he says. "...It doesn't ring a bell?"

Was there a war or something I'm supposed to know...? Damn, I wish I had a better memory of my history classes. After a while, Bart rolls his eyes.

"The Great Fire of London! Man, what do they teach you in school these days?"

"I went to school in the US, not England," I protest.

"I thought you were English?"

"You listened to my conversation with Cata? …Of course, you did. I was born here, but my father sent me to California after my mother died; I was four at the time."

"That explains it..." He sighs.

"So," I say. "When does my lesson actually start?"

"What an obvious way to change the subject." He chuckles.

I don't answer. I learned pretty much what I wanted to learn about Bart already, and while I'd love to hear about his three centuries of life, it's not worth letting him dig any further into my pathetic childhood... or my botched career.

We keep walking, now in a more crowded area. After a little while, I recognize Soho. The mansion must be near Hyde Park, as I suspected. Night fell just a while ago, but we're in October, so it's still pretty early in the evening.

"Does it take long?" I frown, confused.

"Hunting? No. But we might as well have some fun laying the trap..."

While I'm still confused, Bart wraps an arm around my waist and guides me toward an even more crowded area. The streets are flooding with more and more people, and I don't mind him being close as I'm legitimately worried about losing him. Luckily, he's already set on this bar with loud music. It’s quite old but fancy, with loud punk rock music and all, but there's a crazy queue... Nevermind that. To my surprise, the bouncer doesn't even flinch and lets us through after just one glance from Bart.

"...You know him?" I ask as we walk in.

"Nope, but he's been Charmed enough times."

Oh, so it's literally a conditioned reflex... Damn, I need to learn that.

"Is it hard to Charm someone?"

"To Charm a human? Depends on the human." He chuckles, taking me to the bar. "A vampire? You'll learn to Dominate one if you live to be a couple of centuries old."

I might not master it, but I'd really like to grow somewhat immune... I'm a bit worried about what they could make me do, not that he's used it on me at all. Bart's presence isn't as imposing as Richard’s. In fact, for someone a century older than Cata, I don't feel much of a difference... How freaking old and powerful is the Heartgraves patriarch?

While I'm left to wonder, I also have to navigate between the sweaty bodies moving all around us. Looking around at the other girls here, the napkin I'm wearing for a dress fits in just fine. Bart's gone from holding my waist to just pulling my hand, and I follow the little path he effortlessly makes through the dancers. His bleached hair and smooth criminal look get him a few glances, and I can't help but try and keep my head down when those stares linger on me too. Thankfully, we soon reach the bar, and I'm impressed by how quickly Bart gets the bartender’s attention, given all the screaming people and the loud music above us.

"Two whiskeys on the rocks, the best you got. Keep the change."

This time, he doesn't Charm the barman to get those for free and just hands him a big bill. I guess there are some rules...

He hands me a glass and we clink them. He turns around, glancing at the humans moving their bodies around with a smirk, scanning the crowd. I keep my elbows on the bar; I'm still worried about showing my face. I take a sip; oh, it's sweet... I think I'm going to have to trust them when it comes to anything I eat or drink for a while.

"How's your thirst?" he asks.

I take a second. I'm... thirsty. Like, really thirsty. I just emptied my whiskey, but it does absolutely nothing, it's like I just took in some air. I groan.

"Still there."

"Yeah, the first year is the worst," he scoffs. "I bet Richard would have taken you to hunt himself if he wasn't tired. My lucky day."

"Why? You don't usually get to... hunt?"

"I'm on house arrest." He grimaces. "I made a bit of a mess a few months ago... I have to drink that bottled crap until Richard lets me hunt by myself like a big boy again."

"What kind of mess?"

"None of your business… Now, listen up. There are rules when you hunt, so you'd better listen. First, and most importantly, we don't kill."

"I didn't intend to." I frown. "What do you take me for…?"

"You say that now, but wait until you taste the real thing," he scoffs. "Trust me, it's going to be harder than you think. So just try to remember that, but we'll see how you do in practice. Second, we don't leave our victims anywhere that could put them at risk. So when you're done, walk away but make sure they make it home alive."

"...A bit weird, but okay."

"Third, we never touch children. You understand? No kids, and I mean anyone underage. If you have a doubt, it's a no. We also stay away from junkies, cops, military, and religious ones."

"That's one weird mix."

"I know, but trust me, you want to stay off those. Also try to avoid people that could be useful or see you often, like the staff of the places we hunt at."

"Got it."

I mean, most of this sort of makes sense so far, but I'm getting a bit tired of the lesson, of the theory. I finally turn to face the room, glancing around. The people here are already intoxicated, most of them anyway. I'm starting to understand why Bart brought me here. We get to actually confirm that they're all adults since they made it into the bar, for one. Moreover, I'm definitely the bait... A group of guys is eyeing me from afar, and not being subtle about it. Bart chuckles.

"Looks like you got your prey already, Baby."

It's easy. I'm a sexy blonde in a rather tempting dress with my legs exposed, and from where those guys stand, Bart probably doesn't look like he's with me either. Those guys look a bit drunk, drunk enough to be daring and wanting to impress their buddies.

"Pick one."

I already did. The most arrogant-looking one, a tall dude with a square jaw who's been giving me creepy looks since earlier. I stare at him, using my best acting skills to act like a young, impressionable girl thinking she just caught the bad boy's eye. It's almost too easy. I've always been aware I'm pretty, and guys like him just love an easy but out-of-their-league conquest to brag about.

"Good job," chuckles Bart. "Now, time to isolate him from the pack."

"...How?"

"Emergency exit."

Seriously? …I launch another fiery glance toward my prey and slowly walk away. One last glance back... I got him. He's following me. I look for the emergency exit sign, hoping Bart's right about that. He is. I push the door and find myself in a tiny street, a small dead-end no sane woman would want to find herself alone in. I can hear the music of the bar pulsating from the other side of the door, but here, there isn't even a window.

"Hello there, hot stuff..."

I turn around and greet Big Guy with a meek smile. The door closes behind him, and I take off that smile, looking almost scared. I slowly retreat, grateful for my heels, finding myself backed against the wall. This guy is just enjoying it... He looks down on me without an ounce of respect. He's here to get his prize and then go back to gloat to his friends.

"What's that, darling? You can't just tease me and walk away like that..."

Oh, I have no plan to walk away, “darling”. Not when dinner's almost served…

He comes closer, and I'm getting excited. Not with lust, but with ravenous hunger. Something wakes up, a gripping sensation in my stomach, in my throat, something that makes my fangs tingle a bit. It crawls under my skin, like a hot shiver. He comes closer, and my eyes fall on his thick neck. I want it... I want to bite that skin and taste the sweet, warm blood under it. It's haunting my mind, a vision so clear that I open up my mouth. He smells... appetizing.

"Hey," he mutters, unsure.

I direct my eyes to him, and I see the worry on his face… It excites me even more. I grab that fear, and I twist it more, his eyes opening wider. He can't run away. He's my prey. I step closer, so close to that... delicious-looking skin. That pretty vein that's softly beating, with a gorgeous, perfect purple color... I lick my lips, impatient. I want it. I want to taste it now... I grab his neck and open my mouth. I inhale again... and I can't resist anymore. His skin makes a satisfying sound as my fangs pierce into that mouthwatering, hot stream of blood. It floods my throat. So good... It's so good. It's heaven and hell on my tongue, nectar that fills my mouth, and finally frees my throat from that pain. I can't stop... I want more. I bite again, deeper. He makes a sound, but I don't care. More. Give me more. I need more! I want it all. Another sip, and again, so good, it's so good...

"Alright, that's enough."

My prey is taken away from me. I hiss, but immediately, Bart's threatening growl makes me jump back.

I blink. What... What the heck did I do…? Bart holds the guy by his collar and glances at the injury. It's large and covered in blood. I cover my mouth. I can't believe I just did that! What’s worse is that I want to do it again. Just the thought of that taste... No, no, snap out of it.

"You little savage," chuckles Bart.

He takes out a handkerchief and wipes the guy's neck before looking at him.

"You're going to text your friends and tell them you're going home with your date," he says. "You're going to go home, go to sleep, and forget this. Understood?"

"...Yes."

Bart lets go of the guy's collar. We watch him slowly take out his phone, send the text, and turn around, slowly walking away, looking in a bit of a daze.

"...What about the... injury?"

"It will be healed in less than five minutes," explains Bart. "Our fangs contain a venom which works as both an anesthetic and a powerful coagulant. At worst, this guy will look like you gave him the hickey of his life."

That's a relief... I take a deep breath, trying to calm down. My gosh, I can still feel the hot shivers from that... Bart walks over and grabs me by my chin, wiping off the blood with a clean corner of the handkerchief.

"Don't worry, you did good for your first time, Hera. A lot of people would have attacked me, or fought to grab their prey back."

"How do you learn to... stop?" I mutter. "I would have... sucked him dry."

Bart takes out a lighter and sets fire to the handkerchief, throwing it to the ground and, once it's burnt enough, steps on it to stop the fire.

"Practice, dear. Practice… Ready for round two?"

I nod. Yeah.

I want more, and I want to learn how to stop...