Sweet Blooded

Ten: Burned and scorned

Nights passed, each one blending into the next. They grew colder, and I imagined that it was snowing outside. There were no windows in the apartment, so I had no way of knowing what the weather was like.

One night, when the light from the sconce in my room woke me up, I rolled over, pulling the blankets tighter around me. I buried myself in the warmth of my bed, avoiding the frigid chill I’d be greeted by as soon as I stood up.

I debated what to do for the day. My door was still closed, which usually meant they weren’t waiting for me-they didn’t need something from me immediately. So I mulled over how to spend the day: reading or sitting and staring at the walls. 

I read the four books three times each since finding them. I finished them faster and faster each time. Soon, I’d have to find something new to keep me occupied. 

With a loud sigh, I threw the blankets from my body and stood up, crossing to the dresser quickly. I changed clothes. All of the clothes left much of the skin across my shoulders, chest and back exposed. For easy access, I supposed. But it was the primary reason that I’d lived inches away from the fire since it began getting colder.

I scarfed down the bowl of lukewarm oatmeal left on my dresser sometime before I woke, then dug through the drawers filled with black clothing. Dressing swiftly, I pulled on a pair of cotton leggings and a long sleeved shirt. I added one of the long black dresses over the top, layering the clothing so that it would act as a sort of robe or cloak, and might keep me warmer. 

I carried the dirty clothes across the hall, disposing of them in the bin in the bathroom. When I exited the bathroom, angled toward the study, I noticed that something was off about the lighting. I turned to my right slightly, looking down the hall toward the front of the apartment. It seemed dimmer than usual, lit by only a soft glow.

Distracted, I made my way to the end of the hallway. The lights in the kitchen were off. The glow I was seeing came from the sitting area opposite the dining room.

I crossed the rest of the way through the kitchen, coming to the arch and stopped dead in my tracks. My eyes narrowed in on the tree standing by the empty hearth in the sitting room. It was tall and wide, so large I wondered how they had gotten it in through the door. The fresh, piney smell reached across the room, all the way to where I stood frozen, tickling at memories I’d locked far away in the back of my mind. The soft glow I’d been seeing came from the stringed lights- hundreds of lights wrapped intricately through the branches. Gorgeous bulbs of red, green and gold were arranged beautifully in between the layers of gold-beaded garland wound loosely around the tree. 

Unbidden memories flooded my mind and I faltered, stepping back quickly. Without realizing it, I’d crossed the room and was inches away from caressing one of the branches. I closed my eyes tightly, swallowing tears and turned to leave.I walked face first into the chest of a silent vampire who’d snuck up behind me. 

“Whoa, now! Don’t knock it over!”

He grabbed my wrist tightly before I could stumble backward, making sure my feet were steady before he released me just as quickly.

I opened my eyes to see Lukas hurry past me, as though to make sure the tree was okay. I turned around in a daze, not before noticing that Markus was settled on the sofa. Had he been there the whole time? Admittedly, once I caught sight of the tree, I didn’t notice much else.

Lukas let out a relieved sigh. “I don’t know what I would have done if you’d knocked it over. We spent all day putting this absurd thing together.”

I looked over my shoulder, muttering an apology, before turning to leave again.

“How do you like it?” Markus called behind me.

I hesitated again, turning to look at the twins once more. “How do I like what? The tree?” 

Markus nodded once, and I threw the tree a half glance, screaming loudly inside my head as a distraction. Childhood memories were lingering just outside the barriers that I’d placed around my mind to separate me from the person that I used to be. 

“It’s pretty,” I finally answered. 

“Pretty,” Lukas scoffed.

I froze slightly, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you. It’s actually very-”

“Calm down pet, we’re not mad,” Markus interrupted, looking away in disinterest.

I bristled at the term ‘pet.’

“Why don’t you like Christmas?” Lukas demanded from behind me.

I turned and looked at the vampire, shifting my eyes to his chest when we made eye contact. “Cattle don’t get to celebrate Christmas, so it's nothing special.”

“You aren’t cattle, though,” Markus argued.

I froze again. I don’t know why it surprised me that he knew. Gabriel probably had him look into it to see if I was lying. 

“I was cattle for twelve years,” I amended. “We didn’t do Christmas.” And even though it wasn’t the reason for my aversion, it also wasn’t a lie. The twins said nothing else, so I walked off at a more controlled pace. 

I sat on the carpet near the fire, one of the four books wrapped tightly in my arms. The corners were digging painfully into my abdomen and forearms. I squeezed the book tighter, ignoring the pain as I fought to contain the tears. 

Staring into the flames, all I could see was my childhood home. Every entryway was decorated in garland, threaded with golden lights and red ribbons. A Christmas wreath hung on every door. A glowing tree stood proudly in the entryway, heavy with both handmade ornaments and store bought bulbs. 

My mother played Christmas music while she made my sister and I mugs of apple cider to drink while we watched a movie, our Christmas Eve tradition. 

My father was always on his knees near the tree, rearranging the few wrapped gifts they’d managed to get us, trying to make it look fuller. They didn’t know that my sister and I had already carefully peeled apart the wrapping, to see if we could get a peak of what was inside. Sometimes we were successful, sometimes we couldn’t tell what it was.

My sister was on the floor, in the kitchen with my mother. She had all her toys lined up in front of her. 

I was on the floor near the hearth in the living room, wrapped up in a blanket, with my nose in a book. My favorite place to be. 

As I paused my reading to turn the pages, I would look up and around, staring for a moment at the snow falling lazily outside the darkened window. Lights glowed outside as well, from the families in our neighborhood who decorated for Christmas as well.

In a fit of blind rage, I screamed, wailed. I squeezed the book in my arms even tighter. But that didn’t make the anger go away, so I threw it. It landed in the fire, sending ash and embers forth in a puff of hot air. 

I gasped, realizing what I’d done, and scrambled forward, trying to pull it out without directly touching the flames. Pinching a corner of the cover, I snatched the book up, and dropped it in the black bricked hearth. 

“s**t…shit, s**t, s**t,” I repeated the swear word under my breath as I slapped the pages of the book, trying to smother the tiny flames dancing around the edges. I sat back on my feet and stared at the ruined book before me. 

“I think that’s the most alive I’ve ever seen you,” a nearly amused sounding voice called from the doorway.

I froze. Gabriel. I stared at the singed pages with a renewed horror. I’d ruined one of his books. Or well… he said it wasn’t a part of his library. Would it upset him? Probably… 

I turned around slowly, trying not to move too much to the side so that he wouldn’t see the book. Unfortunately, I turned only to find him towering over me. He crouched down in front of me, staring at me with bright silver eyes full of suspicion. 

“You weren’t trying to throw yourself into the fire were you?” He asked seriously, suddenly not sounding so amused. “It’s not a good way to go. It’s excruciating.” He said this as if he knew from experience.

“N-no…” 

Without breaking eye contact, he reached around me and picked up the book. He held it out to the side for a minute before finally looking at it, then back to me. 

“I- I’m sorry,” I whispered.

“Why did you throw it in the fire?” he asked me with that same edge in his tone.

I looked from him to the book, then back to him with wide, panicked eyes. I honestly didn’t have an answer.

“Evelyn…” he warned, and I hated that he’d ever gotten a hold of my name. Just hearing him say it sent droplets of terror slipping down my spine. 

“Idon’tknow….” I said, the words tumbling out so fast that I wasn’t sure they were inteligible, “I’m sorry, I don’t know why I did it, I don’t know…”

He reached out for me and I flinched, scooting away. But he only grabbed my arm, and I tensed. He lowered himself the rest of the way to the floor and laid the book on the ground, and then turned my arm so that my palm was facing up. It was bright red and already looked swollen. He took my left hand and examined it as well. It was a little red, but not as bad as the right. Gabriel let out a long breath, releasing my right arm and then raising my left up toward his mouth.

I began to panic again when I realized he intended to bite me. I pulled backward swiftly, pleading, “Please don’t, I said I’m sorry.”

“Stop, Evelyn,” he growled out.

Despite myself, I obeyed, looking downward before closing my eyes tightly. Maybe one of these days, I would throw myself into the fire. It did sound excruciating, but if it were my only option…

“Agh-” I clamped my lips closed tightly, cutting my yell short. He’d bitten into my forearm this time. 

For some stupid reason, I looked up at him. He was watching me, his eyes glowing brighter as he drank. Entranced, I stared back at him. His normally pale, sun-deprived complexion was taking on a slightly warmer hue. His throat bobbed visibly as he swallowed once, twice, then he pulled his fangs out and licked the bite marks.

He chuckled darkly at my expression, which I’m sure intensified when he lifted his palm to his mouth and tore at the flesh there. Snatching my right hand once more, he placed his bleeding palm into my burned hand, twining his fingers between mine. I hissed immediately at the stinging this caused, instinctively jerking away. As always, he held onto me firmly. 

“Relax,” he hummed, and when I looked up, he was grinning. The sadistic bastard was enjoying my discomfort.

The ache in my hand dulled and when he finally let me go, I inspected my hand to find the burns were gone, and the flesh like new. I didn’t resist when he took my left hand and did the same, before licking his own palm to stop the bleeding. 

So vampire blood definitely had healing capabilities. That was the second time he’d done it to me. I joined my hands, clasping them tightly, and placed them in my lap before looking back up to his watchful expression. 

“If you can just touch me with your blood, why did you make me swallow it last time,” I muttered boldly.

“Because you drank the poison. Your wounds were on the inside.”

Makes sense. “Okay… then why did you not just do this-” I waved my hands in the air, “instead of calling the doctor… for my back.”

He leaned back at this, a satisfied look on his face that made me suddenly self conscious. “It only works if I have your blood in my system. Take and give.”

“The only reason you can heal me is because you drink my blood?” I repeated.

He nodded, that same satisfied expression on his face. I clenched my teeth at the sight, looking back to my hands, waiting for him to either leave or say something more. To my dismay, he remained seated in front of me, silent for several minutes. The silence weighed heavy across my shoulders, and before long, I couldn’t stand it. 

My eyes traveled to the book. He noticed, and picked it up, inspecting it. It nearly crumbled in his grasp. 

“It’s ruined,” he observed.

I nodded, a pang of regret striking me in the stomach.

Why am I so stupid?

Before either of us said anything else, there was a loud crash out in the hallway. I looked up sharply, bracing on either side of me, prepared to jump up. Gabriel beat me to it, facing the door just as a shrill voice sounded close to the closed door.

“Sir Gaaaaabriel, your laaaaate.”