Living in Darkness (Bloodbreeders) (6 page)

Suddenly, I smelled something strange, something I couldn’t place. Then,
I heard a sharp sound coming from the woods on the edge of the graveyard.

“Martin?” I called out, uncertainly. “Is that you?”

I saw a figure step out from the shadows, but it was in no
shape or form
Martin. It wasn’t even male. The woman was
about my height, but she walked with such confidence that I would have sworn
she was three feet taller. Her coal black hair fell just below her shoulders in
ringlets, and her clothing was unlike anything I had ever seen a woman wear. Her
dark red shirt glistened in the moonlight, and the black slacks that it was
tucked into appeared to be riding pants. The black coat she wore was long
enough to dust the tops of her knee high black boots with each step that she
took. As she continued to move in my direction, I noticed three men following
behind her. They, also, were obviously strangers to these parts.

All of the men were very similar in appearance, so much so that one
would have sworn they were brothers. Aside from the shirts, they were all
dressed in a masculine form of the woman’s outfit
;
black pants, black coat, and black boots. The only thing that made it possible
to distinguish between the men was their hair. The man directly behind the
woman had very long, very straight brown hair topped off with a black
sailor-type hat, whereas the one in the middle also had brown hair, but it was
cropped short and he was hatless. The third man was blond, with shoulder-length
locks and a large black-suede cowboy hat. All three men were taller than the
woman, but the way they flanked behind her made them somehow seem small in
comparison.

I began to sit up as they came closer, when the woman held up a hand as
if to stop me. “Don’t be afraid, my dear,” she said soothingly. “We mean you no
harm.”

“You’re like him,” I said, unable to disguise the fear in my voice.
“You’re like Martin, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” she replied. “But we are different. We only want to help you.”

I opened my mouth to ask what she meant, but all four strangers had
stopped moving. The expression on the woman’s face was alarming. About that
time I felt someone grab my arm and yank me to my feet. It was Martin.

“Get behind me, Renee,” he snarled. “Now.”

The strangers began to make a strange noise, similar to that of a cat
hissing, and started moving back towards the wooded area they had come from,
moving very fast. In an instant, all I could see was the faint glow of four
sets of eyes, and then they too were gone. Martin turned to me. I thought at
first he was angry with me, and I didn’t know why. He had a hold of both of my
arms, looking me dead in the eyes. What I saw in his was so overwhelming that
my knees buckled, the only thing keeping me from hitting the ground was the
grip Martin had on me. He pulled me up, and held me close for several minutes. Slowly,
he loosened his hold and started walking with me still cradled in his arms.

“Renee, my sweet,” he said. “You must never wander off without me, do you
understand?”

“Why?” I asked. “Who were those people? I know they were like you but–”

“Like us, Renee,” he interrupted. “Like
us.
”

I let out a sigh, and continued. “Okay, like
us
. Anyway, they
said they were different, that they wanted to help me.” He stopped walking and
sat me down on a large tombstone that was in our path. He knelt before me on
one knee, and took my hands in his, making soft circles on the backs of them
with his thumbs.

“Believe me when I tell you this. They would do, or say, anything to
take you from me,” he stopped momentarily as if to compose himself. “I know you
don’t trust me, and you may even hate me, but hear what I tell you and know it
to be true. They are our enemy. If you see them again, you must promise me that
you will hide.”

This conversation, like the one we had earlier, was only confusing me
more. “I don’t understand. If we are all the same, then why would they harm
us?” I asked.

“Not us, Renee. They would harm
me
by taking you. They know I
could not bear it.”

“How do they know? Do you know them? Have you seen them before?” I pulled
away from him and stood up. “Tell me something… anything, please?”

He stood and stepped in close, almost to the point of touching. I
searched his face, pleading with my eyes to learn
anything
from this
man, this creature, or whatever he might be. He brought his hand up and gently
touched the side of my face. “You have so much to learn, and all the time in
the world to learn it. We have already wasted far too much of this night and
you must feed,” he said.

“No, Martin,” I said, once again on the defensive. “I already told you
I won’t do that, so please don’t ask me again.”

“If you do not, you will die the true death, is that what you want?” he
asked,
frustration once again apparent in his tone.

“True death? What does that mean? Do you really think it could be any
worse than this?” I had barely gotten the words out of my mouth when the pain
hit. My stomach felt as if it had been pummeled with a sledgehammer, and I was
on the ground before I realized that I had moved.

Martin picked me up carefully and made his way back to the crypt that
had become my new home. When we were inside, he laid me down on my makeshift
bed, and closed the stone door securely behind us. I lay there moaning in
agonizing misery, tossing from side to side with my knees pulled as far up to my
chest as they would go. “Oh Dear God,” I exclaimed. “I can’t take this, I’m on
fire.”

I felt as Martin kneeled close to my side. He removed his jacket and
threw it across the room. “You
will
feed,
Renee,” he said sternly, rolling up the sleeve of his shirt. He bared his teeth
and bit down on his own wrist. I was sickened by the sound of him ripping
through his own flesh. He held up his arm, watching, as it was taking only
seconds before the crimson drops began to appear. The blood started flowing
from the wound, and as it did, Martin placed his other hand under my neck,
lifting my head towards the gash.

“I won’t do it, I can’t. Please, Martin!” I begged, thrashing my head
away, trying to turn my back to him. He grabbed me by the back of my hair, and
before I knew what was happening, my head was yanked backwards.

“You will do as you are told.” Martin stated firmly.

He shoved his bleeding arm against my mouth so hard that I was unsure
if the blood that I
was tasting
, was his or mine. I
fought with every ounce of my being to get away, twisting, kicking, clawing,
but he held firm. I tried to scream, but the thick fluid I could feel running
down my throat, caused me to gag every time I gasped for air. I did the only
think that I could think to
do,
I gave him what he
wanted. I grabbed his arm with both of my hands, and bit down as hard as I could.
Now the tables were turned. Martin was the one trying to pull away...in vain.

“What are you doing?” he demanded. “Stop it… I don’t want to hurt you,
Renee, but I will if I must...I said, let go.”

He backhanded me with such force, that my head slammed against the
concrete curved wall, and was almost knocked unconscious. He stared at me in
disbelief as he cradled his mangled arm. Within seconds I realized that I hadn’t
come away empty handed. I had a souvenir, which was still in my mouth.
Disgusted, I spat hard, and didn’t dare look at what now lay on the floor. I
looked up instead at
this
man that I was really
starting to hate, and began to laugh uncontrollably. I knew I must have
appeared crazed, rolling around laughing wildly with blood coating my face.
Martin stared at me for a moment, and then concurred with my actions.

“You’re mad. Now we are stuck here for another cursed day in this,” he
paused waving his good hand about “Horrible dank place.” Then he turned to walk
away and that’s when I heard him say under his breath before collapsing to his
bed, “Maybe I have made a mistake.”

I am not sure why, but hearing him say those words caused my heart to
drop. I watched as he leaned back and closed his eyes, his injured arm lying by
his side, and I felt myself becoming filled with sympathy. Why, after
everything he had done to me, would I feel this way? As I began to gather
myself, I licked my lips and for the first time noticed the taste. The blood no
longer had that sharp metal bitterness to it. Somehow it was sweet like the
nectar from a honeysuckle flower, or fresh honey from a bee hive, tantalizing
my taste buds. I was too exhausted to wrap my mind around the thought, of my
emotional state of being buried alive, waking as a creature that I knew nothing
about, to thinking the taste of blood was something that I could even consider
wanting more of, so I didn’t even try.

I looked at Martin and noticed that his arm continued to bleed
profusely, and that he was making no move to stop it. I slowly got up, and made
my way to his side, looking as ashamed as I felt. I held up the bottom of my
dress up, and used my teeth to make a small tear in the fabric. I ripped the
piece
off of
my dress, and gently lifted his arm. What
I saw when I looked closer at the wound shocked me so bad, that I immediately
looked into his eyes, showing my revulsion. There was a large chunk of flesh
missing, the very piece I had spat on the floor. I’m not sure what I expected
his arm to look like after that, but it definitely wasn’t the gore that I
looked back down at. I swallowed hard, trying to clear the thought from my
mind, that it was none other than
me
 
that
had caused it, and pressed the
cloth firmly against bite. Remembering what my mother had taught me about applying
pressure to try
and
stop the bleeding.

“That doesn’t work on our kind. Just wrap it, and it will slow,” he
said, no anger left in his voice.

“I am so sorry, Martin. I had no idea I could have ever done...” I put
my head down before finishing, “...something like this, to anyone.”

He sat up and reached for my face, causing me to jump. I didn’t mean
to, but I couldn’t help it. He just smiled, and said, “Come, let me help you
clean your face, as you have helped me of your own free will.” I was a little
hesitant, but I let him. He placed his hand on the back of my head, much like
he did moments ago when he was enraged, but this time he touched me like I was
a porcelain doll, fragile and delicate. He pulled me closer, and brought his
face to the point that I could feel the heat of his breath on my skin. I pulled
back slightly, and asked, “What are you doing?” He shushed me softly, and proceeded
to lean in. I closed my eyes as he lightly licked across my lips, and when he
did a small sound escaped from deep inside me, a place that I had never
ventured. I allowed my head to fall back, as he continued to lick the blood,
first from my chin,
then
lower to my neck. My mind was
overcome by the way he touched me. He brought out sensations in my body that I
didn’t even know existed.

He raised my head to look me in the eye, bringing his hand from the
back of my head to ever so delicately caress my cheek. Using the other hand, he
gently stroked his fingers down my forehead and over my left eye, making me
flinch in pain as he lightly traced the mark he had made when he hit me. I had
almost forgotten what had just occurred between us just minutes before, with
his mouth roaming my flesh.

“I have bruised you badly,” he said, the guilt undeniable in his voice.
“Even your lip has been injured, but I cannot deny the pleasure of your taste.”

“The lip you hurt when you forced me to feed, but the other I deserved.”

He put his hand affectionately back behind my head, and asked, “Why do
you feel that you deserve what I did to you? It was I who held you against your
will. You only did what is natural to do.” He then leaned in, and very gently
kissed my forehead, followed by my eye, and then slowly made his way back to my
mouth. At first his kiss was a mere press of his flesh to mine, but then he
opened to me as I opened to him, the heat became a factor that neither of us
could deny. He pulled me close, one hand on my face, the other around my waist.
I unknowingly had placed one of my hands on his chest, and with the other, I
was slowly caressing his leg. Without warning, he pulled away from me.

“Forgive me,” he said breathlessly. “I have forgotten myself. I hope I
have not offended you by taking such liberties without permission.”

I looked away, because I did not want him to see the emotion in my
eyes, or he would see that there was no offence taken in the least. That kiss
was the best thing I had ever felt. I was so embarrassed that I had let him
take me to the point that I was rendered speechless. When I could draw breath,
I answered.

“You’re the only man that’s ever kissed me like that. Please don’t
apologize. I don’t believe I tried to stop you, now did I?” I could feel the
blood rush to my cheeks as I spoke, and knew that he noticed me blushing. A
grin spread across his face,
then
he threw his head
back and laughed.

“We are a pair, are we not?” he asked jovially. “First we beat the
bloody pulp out of one another, and then we tend to each other’s wounds.” He
continued to laugh, and I couldn’t help but join him. Martin settled back onto
his bed, and I continued to kneel next to him on the floor.