Darlings of Darkness: A Vampire Anthology Part 164

"Carl, if you're freaking out and scared and can't, you know, express it? Then I want to say I'm not planning on hurting you. I'm trying to figure this out. Promise."

He looked back at me solemnly.

"Talk to me, it's weird when you don't. What age are you? Do you have a job? Family? Anything like that?" I wasn't used to making small talk; I hadn't a clue how to initiate conversations. Especially with a complete stranger I'd accidentally enthralled.

"I'm... twenty-seven. Engaged. Live with her. Maria. I work... in an office, accountancy." He scrunched up his nose and squinted, like he was trying really hard. Oh, G.o.d, what have I done?

"Engaged. Wow. You must be planning the wedding, yes?"

He put his fork down and looked thoughtful. He seemed to make a conscious effort to gather his thoughts and speak to me properly.

"She is. I don't want to." A pained expression settled on his face.

"Don't want to plan or get married?"

"Get married. We're together ages. It's what you're supposed to do."

"I'm pretty sure you're supposed to do what makes you happy."

He looked directly at me, clarity in his eyes. But it pa.s.sed within seconds. His eyes dulled again, and he went back to his food.

"Don't worry, Carl. I found someone who might be able to help sort out our little problem. Then you can go home and forget all about me."

He shook his head. "No, thanks."

I was afraid of that.

"Whatever it is you're feeling, it isn't normal. This isn't what you really want. And it's dangerous for you here. I'm a danger to you. So you need to go. Okay? Trust me, you'll thank me later."

He smiled blankly at me. It was frustrating trying to talk to him, so I gave up. "Go watch TV or something for a while."

I finished my food and went to lay on my bed, thinking about what to do next. I could visit the man my grandmother recommended, Peter Brannigan, but we might not be back by dark, and I didn't want to risk that vampire seeing us again. He was bound to return; I saw how curious he had been.

I decided it would be better to leave as soon as it got bright the next morning to avoid trouble. Vampires couldn't handle sun light, so daytime meant protection. Unfortunately, during winter, there weren't that many daylight hours; I had often spotted vampires out and about just before dusk. My biggest problem, however, was spending another night with Carl.

I had been okay while we were eating, but now I wasn't doing anything in particular, my ears kept zoning in on his pulse again. I began to imagine what he tasted like. I clawed at my clothes, bit at my knuckles and struggled to stay still, wondering if it felt anything like a junkie's withdrawal. Carl knocked at my door right on cue as though he knew how I was feeling.

"I'm trying to sleep. Go away!" I shouted at him, my voice bordering on hysterical.

I had to keep him away from me. He was all too willing to be a victim. I reminded myself he had a family somewhere, people who would miss him if he didn't come home. I remembered my grandmother's words.

I'm bigger than my thirst; it doesn't own me. I repeated that sentence in my head over and over again until I dozed off.

My dreams were all about Carl. He was in the alleyway again, pinned against a wall, his eyes wide with fear. But it was me holding him there, my eyes that glowed red. It was me nipping his neck and licking his wound slowly, sensually.

I awoke crying, my stomach growling with hunger, my heart racing with need. I heard him move and prayed he wouldn't come near me because I was way too close to the edge. I stayed awake, pretending to read, until daylight came. I was counting on Peter Brannigan to solve all of my problems.

I showered, dressed, and then stuffed myself full of cereal and toast, hoping to get out of the apartment without killing Carl. I sent him into the bathroom to get washed up.

"Don't even attempt to shave," I hollered at him through the door. The last thing I needed was for him to cut himself on a razor. I nibbled on chocolate until he was ready.

"We're going to see a man called Peter," I told him. "He's going to help us. You'll snap out of it, and everything will go back to normal." I didn't add what else I was thinking-hopefully he could help before I tore Carl's throat out.

Carl moved toward me suddenly, catching me unaware despite my edginess. He held my arms and moved close to me. My heart pounded with antic.i.p.ation. I lifted my face and nuzzled against his chest, inhaling his scent and relis.h.i.+ng the feel of his heartbeat against my cheek. I realised I was licking my lips again when he jerked his head down and brushed his neck across my mouth.

My fangs shot out rapidly, shocking me into action. My head fought against my instincts, and I pushed him away as hard as I could, even as my mouth opened to bite him. I stumbled backward, losing my balance as Carl fell to the ground. I lay there panting, half afraid to move.

"We have to get out of here," I muttered, the thirst almost blinding me with its intensity. The angry girl inside hadn't been much help this time, and my head felt like it might explode.

"It's okay, Ava," Carl said, moving close to me again.

"No, it really isn't. Don't come near me!"

He stopped moving straight away, to my relief. I wasn't able to control the thirst. It would always get the best of me. It was like an animal trapped inside me, wild and feral. I'd never tame it. I needed help.

I had no choice but to reach out and find it.

Chapter Three.

I shuffled up the driveway to Peter Brannigan's house warily, not knowing what to expect. My grandmother hadn't given me much information other than his name and address, and the a.s.surance he could help me.

Carl strolled along beside me; being outside in the fresh air made it much easier for me to avoid sniffing at him like a hungry wolf. I felt a lot more human in the daylight; the thirst was weakest in the afternoon. The sun wasn't particularly good for me, but I was pale-skinned and red-headed; the same could be said for anyone with my complexion.

Peter's house was in a nice area with lots of families, dogs, and unnecessary seven-seaters. Safe from the other world; the one most of his neighbours didn't believe in. Even safer than the world I lived in, with its dirt and crime. Going from my home to Peter's was like pa.s.sing through a portal into another dimension. Strange, that the person who could help me lived in the middle of a suburb.

Uncomfortable about suddenly welcoming so many humans into my life, I hesitated at the door. I glanced at Carl who stood too still, staring at me with emotionless eyes. I screwed up his life, so I had to fix it. I rang Peter Brannigan's doorbell before I could change my mind.

A man answered the door, and I found myself appreciating his appearance. He wasn't pretty like Carl, or as tall, but something about him seemed so safe and solid that I wanted to tuck myself under his arm and be protected.

He was young enough, maybe thirty, but his eyes were old and weary. Combined with the long scar across his chin, I just knew he'd seen more than his fair share of trouble. He had cropped sandy brown hair, and hazel eyes that stared into mine until I flushed with heat. I realised I had been so busy crus.h.i.+ng on him that I hadn't even heard his heartbeat or smelled his blood. I figured he must be Peter's son or something.

"You looking for someone?" he said, his eyes flas.h.i.+ng between myself and Carl. I was sure I didn't imagine his eyes lingering on me.

"Uh, yeah, sorry," I said, getting my head together. "I'm Ava. I was given this address and told to look for a Peter Brannigan. I have a, uh, problem I need some help with." I hoped I didn't sound like too much of an idiot.

He stared at us both for a couple more seconds, his eyes sweeping over me appraisingly once more before he nodded, his face unreadable.

"I'm Peter. Come on in."

As soon as I stepped over the threshold, a bright light zeroed in on me, accompanied by a loud alarm.

"What the...?"

Peter's expression turned to horror and then rage as he lifted his arm. I stared at the ceiling for a few seconds before realising he had hit me. Hard. My brain signals finally caught up, and white hot pain seared through my jaw.

I tried to sit up, only to see Peter fling Carl off his back like he was possessed. He jumped on me before I could react. Pinning me to the ground, his face contorted with anger making him look psychotic. I was too shocked to struggle. The siren stopped, but I was still seeing lights.

"What did you do?" he snarled. "Force some sorcerer to make a talisman that lets you move around during the day?" He s.h.i.+fted until one knee held down my arm while the other leaned too hard on my throat.

"What? No! What are you talking about?" I gasped for air, panicking when I realised his position was cutting off my air supply. "I can't breathe. Get off me!" I swatted at him ineffectively, unable to take a good swing.

"Yeah right, bloodsuckers don't breathe. Who sent you, b.i.t.c.h?"

His eyes darkened, and I slowly realised he would be happy to see me die right there on his floor. I struggled against him, frantic, and grabbed at his s.h.i.+rt sleeve until it exposed Celtic symbols tattooed on his biceps. My eyesight blurred from the lack of oxygen; I was too panicked to find his weak spot. Just in time, Carl pulled him off me and tossed him aside easily, much to my relief. I sucked in air too quickly for my lungs to cope with, setting off a minor coughing fit.

"Don't hit Ava again," Carl said sternly, pummelling Peter in the stomach repeatedly.

Good minion.

I managed to shut the hall door so none of the neighbours could see the scuffle then crawled over to the men, my head still spinning from being punched in the face.

"Stop now, Carl," I said. He did, but Peter jumped toward me again. Carl grabbed his s.h.i.+rt and pulled him backward before he could reach me. I tried to act like I hadn't just shrieked like a teenage girl.

"Just hold him like that for a minute," I told Carl, my heart pounding hard. "I'm sorry Peter, but he's going to keep hitting you if you keep attacking me. It isn't his fault. Like I said, I have a problem I need help with."

Peter snarled at me, his face twisted with hate. He spoke a few words under his breath in a language I wasn't familiar with, smirking slightly. I couldn't understand what he was saying, but his face fell in surprise when nothing happened.

"Look," I said, getting as close to him as I dared. "I don't know what just happened, but I'm guessing you think I'm a big, bad bag of scary. Well, I'm not. At least, not exactly. I don't want to hurt anyone. I just want to be left alone. But I need help with that. This big guy pinning you down? He's Carl. I think I accidentally made him my servant or something. I need it to stop. Like now."

Peter's gaze pierced mine. For a second, I was hopeful, but the hateful sneer he sent my way snapped me back down to earth.

"Please," I said, my voice shaky.

"Why would I help you?"

"Because Carl here keeps offering me his neck, and I'm getting thirsty. If you have any kind of compa.s.sion, you'll help him out."

"So drink then. That's what you do, right?" He sounded so scornful and cynical, I felt my hackles rise.

"None of your business, is it? Point is, I don't want a servant. I want Carl gone. Can you help or not?"

"Get off me," he told Carl, perhaps feeling his lack of macho at being held down in his own hallway.

"It's okay, Carl. Let him go. He'll be good." I hoped.

Carl nodded and let go of Peter, who immediately stood up and tried to tower over us. I was still too wiped to even bother standing up.

"I don't know who gave you my address or why you're really here, but you need to leave. Now."

"You're not going to help," I said, seeing the look on Peter's face. I had no idea how to spend another hour with Carl, never mind another night.

"Why the h.e.l.l would I help out a vamp? I don't know how you're managing to get around during the day without frying, but the alarm doesn't lie. Get out before I blind you with holy water."

"I've done nothing wrong, all right?" My panic made me defensive. He was supposed to help us, not freak out on me.

"Yeah, except enslave this poor sod," he said, gesturing at Carl.

"That was an accident!"

"Leave." He clenched his fists, his jaw tautening with anger. I knew better than to waste my time reasoning with hatred. I was on my own. I couldn't believe he was ready to let Carl die. I had been so sure he would help me, I hadn't even imagined what I would do if he didn't.

Carl and I walked home together in silence as I thought about Peter and wondered if I could have handled it better. I wiped away a few tears of frustration and tried to figure out my next move, but there was no Plan B-Peter Brannigan had been my only hope.

As soon as we got back to my place, I dove into my freezer for some ice. My face hurt like h.e.l.l. I winced as I held a towel full of ice cubes against my cheek, sorely regretting not getting a punch in. I heated up some leftovers in the microwave and once again made Carl sit as far away from me as possible. My jaw made it hard to eat, but I had to chew through the pain if I wanted Carl to survive the rest of the day.

Carl kept looking at me anxiously. "It's okay," I said, sensing he was worried about me as part of the whole vampire-minion bond thing. "Everything's going to be okay," I told him, but I didn't believe it. I kept forcing food into my mouth, swallowing hard to get it past the lump in my throat, surprised by how emotional I felt.

A knock at the door soon interrupted our meal. I was so depressed I didn't even remember to look through the peephole. As soon as I opened the door and saw Peter Brannigan standing there, I backed away in horror lest he punch me again. His lips curved upward with a grim sort of amus.e.m.e.nt. I put on my game face and acted as snarly and vampire-like as I could. It was kind of hard with a swollen face.

"What do you want?" I said, crossing my arms and letting my fangs show purposely for one of the few times in my entire life. He took a step backward in disgust. I retracted them hurriedly, not having the energy to keep scaring him. He waited a few seconds then came closer again.

"I followed you home," he said, looking over my shoulder into my apartment. "Big lunk's still alive, I see."

He brushed past me and came inside, glancing around the room and picking up a book I had left on the coffee table. Carl watched his every move.

"Come on in then," I muttered, shutting the door.

"Tiny place."

"Yeah, well, we can't all live in a big house with a white picket fence. Wouldn't do my reputation any good. So, did you want something in particular? Or were you just pa.s.sing through and felt like hitting something?"

His eyes narrowed. "I wanted to see where you live so I could kill the whole nest. But I see you're a loner."

"You came to kill the whole nest and decided to knock first?"

"Well, I knew there had to be humans here too."

I didn't tell him he would never have found my place if he meant to do me harm, thanks to some of the protection spells scattered around my home. Instead I shrugged and sat down to try and eat the rest of my food. Peter smelled really good, and I was hungry. Best thing for me to do was distract myself with human gluttony.

"Lunch for two? How sweet," Peter said, but he was frowning. I wondered why until I realised that vampires probably couldn't eat human food. I waited for him to speak, but he was too busy inspecting the room like he wanted to buy the place. He came across as c.o.c.ky, but I caught an underlying scent of fear. A couple of minutes later, he had calmed down significantly.

"Listen, I don't know what your game is, but it isn't fair to leave the big fella in the middle of it, seeing as he has no control over his actions."

I snapped my head up to meet his eyes, afraid to hope. He sounded deadly serious.

"You're going to help me? Really?" I said, still cautious.

"Not you. Carl. He's human. I help humans. They deserve it."

I lowered my head. "Of course," I murmured. I didn't care about his att.i.tude, helping Carl would in turn help me.