I wake up from being drained of blood, to sitting untouched upon the alter – with the brothers still around me.
I sit up onto my elbows, gazing over my woundless skin.
I’m not bleeding.
The brotherhood of vampires are putting away handkerchiefs to hide the blood they’ve wiped from their chins.
But – that is not the concern.
I turn to Darc, who has a glowing strength about him now.
He looks a little bit more alive and more tan, rather than white like stone.
“Angel killer,” I hiss with fear.
Darc sees me looking for a way out. Somewhere to run too!
The forest was dense and I was their toy right now. I had no hope – but I had to listen to Armando.
Darc snatches my chin with lightning fast reflexes – I didn’t even see his arm move. He pulls my wondering face back to his and doesn’t let my chin go. Darc states like the monster he is, “If you want to leave… Wynter… you mustn’t panic.”
“You’re much stronger than before,” I whisper helplessly, feeling the strength in his hold of me, I can’t pull out of his grip even as I strain backwards.
“Your blood is a tool,” Darc restrains himself from saying much more.
“But I don’t feel weaker…” I murmur, glancing over all of them, “Why don’t I feel weaker? Where are my wounds?”
“Because you heal quickly,” Darc suggests, smirking to his friends.
“Why did you try to tell me I’m a mortal? Where are my wings? I’m an angel.”
“So, you remember much more while dying?” Darc chuckles.
“This was bound to happen eventually,” Fane smiles at me, standing next to Darc.
“We should kill her now,” Horace gazes at the alter and the surrounds, and back to Darc, who’s brow is raised inquisitively.
He waits a bit too long.
“…no,” Darc slips his other hand under my palm and raises it into the air, politely, like some gentlemen as he addresses me, “Sweetheart. Your death is futile already… so I wish to know you some more before that night,” that meant life was possible – for now. I slip from the stone and stand up, and Darc’s hand is holding mine tightly, as he hides me from Horace’s view while he spins to face his friends, “Save your ideas for a more appropriate time, Horace. Solomon – put the knife away.”
Knife?! I gaze past Darc’s left to see Solomon pocketing a freaking butchers knife into his black robe as his silver jewellery chimes along his ears with the wind, and I find my hand squeezing Darc’s so tight. Shit.
“I’m patient,” Solomon smiles charmingly at me.
Charming to a disturbing degree.
They all go silent as they watch me, but my main fearful eye is on Solomon’s violet gaze and Horace’s intense hunger.
“Don’t be complacent upon my brother Ash and Fane,” Darc notices my attention, warning me, “They’re quiet… but they’re viciously quiet.”
Ash and Fane ignore his statement.
“…and what are you?” I murmur to him, afraid.
“The death of you,” Darc turns as he says that, rolling a shoulder while tilting his head playfully to his close friends, “Shall we return to the Academy?”
Without a word, only nods or understanding eyes – they all turn and we begin to trek back.
I slip my hand from Darc’s and walk just beside him.
An angel killer?
Geez. Dramatic much.
What was I to do? What did that even mean for me – and what was my life above? Did I stand a chance getting back again?
All I knew now was I was stuck here.
I speak into their silence, the only noise is the creepy wind, as I question Darc, “If you study during the day… and rarely sleep at night… what do you do all night?” I ask, immediately gulping down that feeling of bile from the digested cherry making its way back up my oesophagus.
Regret has immediately surged through me, I didn’t want to know that answer but I had to ask what was in store upon our return.
Here was the answer.
“We save the night for murder and torture and sex, surprised?” Darc is so calm – all emotion gone again, “Angel,” he reaches out and snatches my hand back when I don’t expect it as he pulls me into his stride, turning me to make me walk backwards while he strides forward. I stumble but try to keep up as Darc drawls down at me, “For your blood you receive our friendship… for your body you’ll receive your memories… my version which I tell you.”
My eyes widen.
He has no idea how much I actually felt when I went to the Upper when they all drained me.
I must have died for a few seconds as they took my pulse away.
Did I have a heart attack?
And then I came back again. Healing myself. How powerful was I? Probably powerful enough not to give into his every wish and demand. I go with that.
“We’ll see about that,” I answer, as I try not to trip as he holds my wrists tight so I keep having to walk backwards. I’m stubborn as I state, “No. I won’t give you everything.”
Darc smiles brilliantly through his neutrality and shoves me backwards.
I just manage to keep my balance and I spin around to stride ahead of them.
I was serious in standing up for my rights – what little I had left.
“The longer you wait – the less I’ll tell,” Darc teases.
“I think you mean the longer you will wait,” I murmur under my breath, as I start to stride on slick wet gravel.
Black wet gravel.
I halt as I glare down, confused.
It’s… oh shit, it’s not rain or a run off from water.
It’s dripping down from the left –
As I turn, I see remains up the incline.
I’m frozen as my jaw hits the ground.
He is dismembered. He is in so many parts, I can’t count, strewn around and butchered to hell.
Pushed by a gust of chilled wind, an eyeball rolls down to my feet and I step around to avoid it.
The brotherhood walk by me like it’s nothing new.
“You did this,” I state.
“You were asleep for a minute,” Darc calls back, “You’re welcome for the protection spell.”
“Protection spell?” I yell out.
Darc is watching me with a knowing, smug look.
“We made Gorg your Guard in Sleuth,” Darc answers, proud, “How else will you survive the Academy whence we are not near you? You will study too. Why not? Gorg will kill anyone who tries to kill you, just call him forth.”
As I stumble along to catch up, I see a small shadow move to my right.
I stop again to watch something a bit more majestic than that horrid sight behind me.
A beautiful black kitty cat slinks it’s way down the rocks and pounces over to rub between my legs.
I love cats!
I lean down to pet it, “You’re gorgeous,” I whisper, entranced by it’s yellow eyes and pert little ears.
A good name for the Orc turned into a damn cat.
Thank you, Darc?