Chapter 2 - Unique Blood
The man just stood there without moving a muscle. “Even your beauty features faded a bit, besides being a lowly human. Is that a wrinkle under your eye?”
“What say you? That’s not a way to treat a lady! You have no manners, sir! “I am only 27. Hmph!” Adria pulled herself from the man’s arm. She tried exiting the ‘prank’ by aiming the door to walk away.
“There is nothing left for you in the mundane world, Adria. Like it or not, you are stuck with me. At least for a decade or two. Yeah, something like that,” murmured the man with his fingers over his chin in a thinking pose. “But hey! If you want the other option, you can go back and open door number two from your earthy office. It’s still a matter of choice. However, I guarantee you that I am a million times more handsome than the bitch behind that door earlier. It looks a bit nasty and is more commanding.”
After hearing the man’s last words, her chin dropped, almost hitting her chest and the room suddenly tilted as she lost her balance. A scarlet wave flashed up from the floor, raising her in the air. She was unconscious. The scarlet energy transformed in a silvery and bloody liquid form that penetrated her heart, her eyes and her mouth. Once all of it entered in Adria, she opened her eyes that were normally hazel but were now bloody. A strong light emanated from her entire body. Its aura created a storm that sent the vampire across the room, crashing into a wall.
“The bitch surfaced much faster than I predicted,” trumpeted the man under his lips while standing up. His eyes turned as bloody as hers and his fangs could be seen like a wolf before engaging a foe. He knew her powers. In the past he was no match for her, but now he matured and learned the ways to combat such a creature. Not only one fight had he won with others like her and absorbed their powers. There were no less than 173 years since he was turned. 173 years of pain, betrayal and sorrow. 173 years of loneliness and plans of revenge. 173 years of waiting for the right divine moment of her reincarnation. The moment when she would be subjected to all the shit he endured.
“Save your fangs and strength Anthony Seymour!” Thundered Adria with a different persona. She seized him with her eyes at a safe distance from her. “It’s not the time nor the place for your revenge now,” she said, mind reading his intentions and gasping his attack posture.
“Not the time Alexandria? 173 years? And now it’s not the time? You fucking bitch!”
Anthony Seymour jumped on her engaging in a physical fight. He threw her on the wall as a return for his previous collision. She raised her arm and with a quick move sent the massive bed into his direction.
“Missed me! What? Not enough juice to aim right? Ha-ha! I was right to bite you, I am now your Master!” Giggling like a boy speaking to his favorite toy, Anthony didn’t pay attention to the mahogany nightstand that hit his head from the left side sending him on the floor for a second. “Really? That’s how you want it?” Drummed Anthony while blocking her with his eyes and keeping her still.
Adria stood like a statue unable to resist and fight back. He imprinted her with the Master poison when he drank her human blood. At his own free will he could counterattack and manipulate her. Her eyes got wider and her mouth opened just a bit.
“Surprised darling? Yes, I learned a thing or two”, replied the vampire with a cocky voice. “Not the stupid Anthony anymore”, continued Seymour coming towards her, facing her, in his previous noble posture with his hands at his back. An electric golden orb formed above his right palm maintaining his left arm at his back. “As you can see, your now mundane blood mixed with other witches’ blood along the years that I absorbed, gave me the witch-vampire powers. I encountered an ancient book about twenty years after my turning where it was revealed the line of ‘unique’ blood. Apparently, each witch born under a full moon, at exactly midnight in the month of March, contains this unique blood. That unique blood empowers a vampire turned through magic, and not bitten, to possess double powers and become sort of a deity let’s say. I have full control and powers over this ‘unique’ blood after I consume enough such witches. Their powers transfer onto me and I become more powerful. I have collected the right amount of blood so far to stand against the Great Witch, High Priestess, Alexandria.” Anthony took out a silver knife from the orb engraved with rubies and the letter “A” on it.
Glancing at the knife, Adria fidgeted. “What are you doing with that?”
“Just completing the ritual my dearest”, replied Anthony on a dry, heavy note. He cut his wrist with the knife and placed on Adria’s lips a few drops.
“NO!” She spat the blood, but it was too late. She licked by mistake a bit of it. The room tilted again, and her bloody eyes closed. Adria’s entire being was drained of energy and she collapsed.
“And that’s day one, love.” Anthony waved his hand over the room and placed everything back in order. He picked up Adria in his arms and headed to the bed. Her head touched his chest, and under the movement of him carrying her, it went back revealing her perfect plump lips in rosy color sprayed with his blood. A strong tickle from his stomach to his lips left him hovering over her lips almost locking them into a kiss. Seymour shook his head and threw Adria on the bed leaving her there alone for the night. He had other plans to deal with until morning.
Thank you for reading! Hope you liked it and are waiting for the next part! Comments, likes, subscription to my website and follows on my social media are more than welcomed!
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Your true friend always,
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Bitter Blood Series-Cursed by Andra-Cristiana Stan, Romania. Copyright © January 2019. All Rights Reserved
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.