***NOTE*** Although the title characters have different names, the story runs on Twilight themes. I did change a lot of plot categories (I always felt vampires need to have fangs) to fit my mystery, but I hope you like it anyway. In the end, it is about a love that conquers all!
I also wrote it all in one setting and don't have it separated by chapters, sorry. It turns out to be about 13 pages long in Word. ***END OF NOTE***
A Change of Scenery
Vast distances of tall, pine trees were on either side of the long driveway. The old limousine slithered its way toward "the Manor" as if it was following its own trail, forged from many journeys and countless years of use. Laura stared out the window, hoping the scenery would change, but the path seemed to wind on forever. Her eyes avoided the rearview mirror even though the old driver probably never looked at her. She was sure he could drive blindfolded, but his icy glare remained focused on the road.
Her current situation was unexplainable. The series of events that placed her in this car at this moment in time were muddled in her head. After her father's death everything had seemed like a long, dark play that took place in front of her. She was just an actress, unable to control her own fate. It would sound bad to any rational human being, but the irrational is what Laura thrived on now. She loved the idea of letting go, allowing the forces that be swallow her body, her flittering soul left as the only remnant of her existence.
Her body surged forward. The car had stopped in front of an enormous Germanic-style mansion. Its opulence was evident on the outside from the well-trimmed hedges and rose bushes that lined the perimeter of the lawn. The grotesque gargoyles that guarded the front entrance stared at her, their ugly tongues making a mockery of her attention. The old driver hobbled over and opened the car door. The screeching noise of the ancient metal door sent shivers down her spine and caused goose bumps to prick up across her skin. The contact between her foot and brick pavement brought her out of shock and she breathed the sweet, rose scented air of her new environment.
When Laura's luggage hit the dark, wooden floor it stirred centuries of collected dust into motion. She coughed and the noise reverberated through the foyer, causing the porcelain vases that lined the gold-leaf walls to chime back to life. The crystal chandelier twinkled with a dim, yellow glow as the driver flipped a cob-webbed switch on the right side of the wall. There was a long, double-sided ivory staircase that wound its way to the foot of the grand foyer. The two opposite walls left everything to the imagination, since they were closed off by massive mahogany doors.
"Please follow me to your chamber, madam." The driver picked both of her suitcases up with surprising strength and trotted toward the gleaming staircase. Laura followed him, mesmerized by the golden flakes of dust in the air.
When they reached two large, double doors at the end of a mile-long hallway lit by crystal sconces on either side, her two suitcases hit the floor again. No dust flew up this time, but the creak of old wood affected Laura's body in the same way that the old metal did. The sudden transition from darkness to light left her temporarily blind and when she opened her eyes, blinking frantically, what lay in front of her rendered her mouth agape with awe.
She felt like she had stepped into a fairytale princess's bedroom. The walls were covered in gilded ivory wallpaper that matched the ivory curtains of the king-size canopy bed. The sheer drapes revealed a fluffy, white comforter and matching crocheted pillow shams that looked so inviting her body was moving on its own in the bed's direction. The ceiling was a four-sided pyramid with wooden beams running to the center where a long-necked chandelier cascaded down and hovered just above the bed. The rest of the furniture looked like it came straight out of a museum, resembling something she had seen in pictures of the Versailles palace. Laura stood at the base of her new bed and rubbed her eyes; this had to be a dream. But she was still there, the smell of old, dormant dust ever-present in the air.
"Dinner is served at seven." She had forgotten the old man was still there and turned around to apologize for her ignorance, but he was gone. Laura strained her brain to try and remember his name, "Patrick!?" No reply. She was sure it was Patrick, but it was like he had never been there. How could he move so fast when he hobbled everywhere? It was a mystery she didn't care to solve. Laura took her shoes off, separated the ivory curtains and hopped into bed. The smell of mothballs surrounded her as she buried her face in the down pillow and dozed off.
The Strangest Dream
She had the strangest dream.
Laura wasn't sure if it was because she hadn't dreamt in a while that it was strange or that it was unsettlingly familiar.
She was sitting in the middle of a meadow of wildflowers. The meadow was surrounded by a dark forest. A gentle, warm breeze was blowing loose strands of auburn hair across her forehead. Thick, grey clouds filled the sky and suddenly snowflakes started falling. The breeze blew even warmer.
"Don't you think this place is rather strange?" The tenor voice spoke from behind her. Laura swung around, but there was no one there.
"Who's there? Where are you?" She swung around again, but couldn't catch the owner of the voice.
"It's snowing and it's warm at the same time." The voice seemed amused and puzzled at the oddity. Laura turned again, but couldn't catch whoever it was. She figured that she hadn't been harmed thus far and decided to stop looking.
"It's a dream. I'm not surprised." She was calming herself down. Her heart was pacing quickly, she didn't know if it was doing so in real life. Laura took a deep breath through her nose and exhaled through her mouth.
"How do you know it's a dream?" The voice was still behind her and seemed genuinely interested in her response.
"This can't be real." She exhaled deeply again.
"So you believe in the human laws of nature?" He was patronizing her.
"You don't?" It was absurd. This whole conversation was absurd. Laura wanted to wake up, but for some reason couldn't make herself do so.
"If I did, then I wouldn't believe in my own existence." He chuckled to himself. He was still behind her.
She turned on her heel and almost fell forward from the momentum as she teetered to a halt. A foreign hand steadied her and was gone as quickly as it had appeared.
"I thought you had given up on trying to look at me." The voice spoke with bemusement.
She gulped the warm air, swallowing an ice-cold snowflake in the process, "Wouldn't you be curious if there was a strange voice coming from behind you but you couldn't see whose it was?"
"I guess." He said nothing else and Laura stayed silent for a while. Whoever it was that was behind her didn't breathe. This was a strange dream indeed.
"I want to wake up." She was sure he was preventing her from waking up.
"Why? You don't want to talk to me?" He was being sarcastic. She imagined a smug expression on the voice's face—but she couldn't picture a face it was just an aura of smugness.
"I think my body's hungry. It's probably seven by now; I can't trust that old guy to wake me up. What if I starve?" She would use any excuse necessary to get away from this strange being.
"You won't starve." He sounded so certain.
Suddenly she heard the rustling of the wildflowers behind her and someone's chest was pressed against her back. Two arms encircled her torso and brought her body closer to theirs. Laura wanted to scream and run, but as was often the case in dreams, her voice no longer worked and her body wouldn't move. She was frozen in place and able to feel this person's chin rest on her left shoulder. Their ice-cold right cheek touched her left and the fear in her started dissipating. There was something very gentle about this stranger's movements. There was something very gentle about the way his frozen, soft lips kissed her cheek and brushed against her ear as his soothing, tenor voice said, "You can wake up now."
The Awakening
Laura threw the white down comforter off of her and jumped out of bed, almost ripping the sheer canopy off. Her body was covered in sweat. She was freezing and scorching hot at the same time. The fabric against her skin was unbearable.
She placed her cupped hands under the freezing water and waited for them to fill until she splashed the icy liquid across her face. The bathroom was stark-white ivory with gold hardware. Laura wasn't surprised to see another crystal chandelier hanging off the frescoed ceiling. The painting was a replica of a portion of the Sistine chapel's ceiling, having God creating Adam right above the lion-pawed antique tub. How classy, Laura thought, and splashed another round of water across her face. It was nice not having to worry about her clothes getting wet from the water as she went back to her bedroom stark naked.
A lily-white evening gown lay across her bed which was now made. Laura's eyes darted to every corner of the room but found it completely empty. She spun on her heel again, like she did in her dream, but there was no voice and no other presence. Did the old man come in when she was in the bathroom? What if he saw her undressed? How did he know to bring her a change of clothes?
Laura walked toward her bed and picked the dress up. It was very light and soft, but wasn't sheer. It looked like something from the Victorian era with its high collar, but it was sleeveless and thus acceptable for the modern era. Laura thought she'd have some fun with her image as she ran her fingers through long, wavy hair that she slowly piled up at the top of her head.
As she looked at her profile in the mirror, Laura thought she could be one of those ladies in the Victorian brooches—her hair in a bun, and frilly collar tickling her chin. She smiled, pleased with the result of her inside joke.
"Dinner is ready, madam." The old man had snuck up on her. His bowed figure was reflected in the large, oval vanity and it took all her self-control not to scream like a fool. She refused to be startled by the little creeper.
"Good, I'm starving."
Awareness
The table in the dining hall was big enough to seat ten people but Laura was the only one seated at the end across from the large, white double doors. The walls were covered in teal blue wallpaper that had a golden crest pattern engraved throughout it. On the right-hand wall hung a large landscape portrait, accented by an intricate gold-leaf frame. The stuffed white and gold chairs along the dining table were upholstered with identical blue fabric. The mahogany floor was covered by a white rug with a teal blue flower-print border to match the walls and the chairs. The ceiling was extremely high and sported a not-so-surprising gold and crystal chandelier. In one corner of the room was a tall, antique ivory clock that began playing Mozart's fur Elise when the hour struck seven.
Laura finally remembered that she was hungry as she took a bite of the Kaiser roll she had been holding in her hand. It was warm and fresh, melting away in her mouth. She didn't know if it was her hunger or the actual truth that it tasted like the best piece of bread she had ever had. The meat was just as delicious, roasted to perfection—not overdone, nor gushing blood. Laura hated the sight of blood; it was why she had chosen not to be a doctor when she finally made it to college. Thoughts of her past life were beginning to creep up on her. She didn't like it.
The light dress was very accommodating to her enlarged stomach. She felt like she hadn't eaten in days. Maybe it was because she hadn't really eaten well since her dad's passing. Images of friends and family coming to comfort her only to be chased away by her cold, aloofness flashed through her head. They didn't care about me, she had told herself. The only person that cared about me was gone forever.
Patrick came in. How did he know she was done eating? It's not like the door was open the whole time. Was he the one that prepared the dinner? Come to think of it, she hadn't seen another living soul in the house since she had arrived.
"Did you make this?" She nudged her chin toward the food.
"Yes." He didn't elaborate.
"So...you're the master chef, driver, and housekeeper of this place?" She counted off his duties on her fingers.
"Yes." Patrick picked up one of the plates from in front of her.
"Don't you get tired? This is kind of a big place to run for one old guy." His hand hesitated for a second before it picked up the second plate.
"I don't get tired...it's habit." It sounded like he was looking for an excuse to explain his lack of exhaustion. Patrick looked like he was at least seventy, if not older. Yet, he moved very swiftly and now she found out that he takes care of the entire manor by himself.
Laura took a sip of water from her glass and threw it at the wall, watching it shatter into a million pieces. What was she expecting? For the old guy to do some superman move and catch the glass before it ever hit the wall. Laura was now faced with the awkward task of explaining her rash behavior.
"Sorry, I'll get that. I don't know what happened." She did know, but it was too childish to mention.
Patrick placed the collected, dirty dishes on the table and walked over to where the glass shards were scattered. "Don't worry about it madam. I will clean this up." He hunched over and began picking up the little, shiny pieces. They twinkled just like the chandelier and suddenly there was blood trickling from the old man's finger. Laura shut her eyes. She hated the sight of blood. Her body felt weak all of a sudden, the scent was so putrid. She tasted blood and felt a warm liquid run down her chin. She covered her mouth before it dripped on her ivory dress.
The old man's finger was no longer bleeding as he stood up and walked to her side. He picked up the still-folded cloth napkin on the table and proceeded to unclasp her hand from her mouth. He wiped away the now-congealed crimson liquid off of her chin. Patrick grabbed her chin between his thumb and index finger, forcing her to open her mouth. Laura smelled the blood on her breath. It was her own blood; she recognized the sweet, musky scent.
His eyes squinted as he examined the inside of her mouth, "You need to be more aware of yourself. Your stubbornness won't help you now, Laura. If you don't learn to control your body..." Patrick didn't elaborate. She knew where he was going.
Stark White and Red
Laura had another dream.
Her white dress was covered in blood. It smeared from her dress onto the body in front of her. She had been near the brink of death a few hours ago. Now, her senses were sharpened, the air reeked of blood and she could hear the crowd of footsteps approaching her bedroom. They had heard her scream. The trickling blood mixed with tears that were rolling down her cheeks. She picked the body up and cradled it in her arms. Laura held the grey-haired head against her unmoving heart.
Her own voice whispered, "Father, why did you do it?"
The servants let out their own screams of horror as they saw the two bloody figures in the center of the triangle-domed room: stark-white against stark-red.
Back to Life
She leaned against the doorframe of the kitchen. The old man was busy preparing breakfast. Laura knew he would've brought it to her bed, but she had risen much earlier than expected. Not waking in a cold sweat helped a little.
"Thank you, Patrick." He didn't turn around.
"I have served you for a very long time; why the sudden need to thank me?" He chopped a carrot and threw it in a pot filled with other vegetables.
"I have been absent for so long. The place was starting to really look abandoned." She walked over to his side, taking his hand in hers, "I can always count on you to bring me back to life." Laura craned her neck to the side and smelled her own blood permeate the air again. She had suppressed her own hunger and nature by avoiding blood at any cost. It had helped her forget who she really was for so long.
~*~Beginnings~*~
Every time something strange happened in town, like people disappearing out of nowhere, a certain family's name was never far from people's lips. Fortunately for them, they had enough money and power to keep rumors from stirring for too long. Her family had never paid them much attention. They were powerful aristocrats as well and knew any danger posed by the Wellingtons did not pertain to them.
Laura remembered tales about supernatural happenings that concerned that family. Ever since she was little, boys in the area proved their bravery by spending a night in the Wellington woods. All the girls would swoon over the newest "survivor," but Laura never swooned over any of them. She also wanted to be a survivor.
And so it was. One summer evening Laura Samuelson found herself among a group of boys sneaking around the Wellington woods after sunset. They had all protested her coming along. She was not just a girl, but also a Samuelson. What if a high-class young lady got hurt, surely the commoner boys would be blamed! Even as a twelve-year-old, Laura knew that money could change the mind of the staunchest opponents.
"Did you hear that?" One of the boys let go of the others' hands. They had promised not to let go from the beginning.
"Paul, get back here!" John, the leader of the pack, spat into the darkness.
Laura was in the middle of four other boys, it was the safest this way. She was a girl, after all. She started feeling a little uncomfortable fifteen minutes into their little adventure. The forest was so dense, the moonlight did not shine through and they found themselves in pitch black darkness. Technically, to be counted as survivors, all they had to do was spend the night in the forest. Laura didn't know why they couldn't just sleep right there.
The boys wanted to go up to the mansion. They wanted to take a memento with them to impress the girls. Since Laura had no such intention, she could care less about the house itself. But less than half an hour into their little adventure, they had lost their first survivor. The other boys convinced John that Paul had probably went back out, they weren't far into the forest anyway.
The future survivors continued up the forest in the direction of the house. The closer they got, the clammier the hands Laura was holding became. She was hoping they would change their minds, but soon there was a clearing. A surprising meadow of wildflowers appeared before them under the moonlight. The long-stemmed flowers swayed in the wind that had been unable to blow through the forest's barrier of trees.
The boys immediately let go of each-other's hands and started walking through the meadow. In the distance a faint yellowish light could be seen. It was emitted by the Wellington estate's electric lighting—like that of her own home and other nobles'. It was a luxury she had been exposed to since birth and those who weren't able to afford it could immediately recognize it as a sign of wealth.
Laura had stopped for too long. Her companions were now out of sight. She hoped they had left a trail in the meadow, but it was still too dark. Suddenly, she felt terribly alone and helpless. It was difficult to figure out why she had insisted on going in the first place. Maybe she could go back on her own. Laura turned to look at the forest behind her; the thought of traversing the darkness on her own immediately seemed like a bad idea. She decided to wait. They would come back for her—they had to come back for her.
Laura sat down in the grass, feeling the flower stems tickle her skin was somehow comforting. She waited. How long had it been now? Laura had heard no other noise coming through the grass. Where were they? She stood up, but only saw that yellow light in the distance again. Should she go to the house? She looked behind her at the dark, ominous forest and the decision was made much easier.
The house was a lot farther than she had anticipated. Every time she thought progress was made, the yellow glow seemed no closer than before. Maybe she should have waited for the boys a little longer. Now that she was headed in the direction, it seemed like it would have taken them some time to get there. There was no going back, so she pressed on.
A faint rustling from behind made Laura freeze in her tracks. She turned but saw nothing. It must have been her own movements that had made the noise. Laura continued, but the rustling noise crossed her ears again. She stopped. "Who's there?" She whispered and twirled all around. Nothing.
"I didn't mean to do any harm," Laura didn't know why she was making up excuses to the air. But she could feel a presence. "I'm just looking for my friends."
"They went back already." A deep voice said from behind her.
Laura spun around but saw no one there. The hat that was supposed to conceal her gender fell off in the process and a long stream of dark auburn hair cascaded down and twirled around her, "Who said that?" Again, there was no one behind her.
"Why is a refined young lady like you, Miss Samuelson, running around other people's property?" The voice was taunting but amused.
She blushed with shame, how did they know who she was? "I wanted to go back, but my friends didn't come back for me, so..." What was she going to tell this stranger? That she was afraid of the dark forest?
"You're afraid of the dark, aren't you?" The deep voice sounded melodic as it teased her. It was definitely a male voice, almost like a tenor. She spun on her heel to catch a glimpse of him and almost lost her balance. Two large hands caught her and let go the minute she seemed to have regained her composure.
"Alright, now I know you are there. You should definitely show yourself. It is rude to tease a lady." Laura tried to say it with as much pompous aristocracy as she could. The boys' clothes did not help her argument.
"Silly girl, you still need a few years before you become a lady!" He chuckled.
Laura was officially angry with the mystery voice. First, he teased her and now he dared to insult her! She turned around again and expected to find no one, but instead her dark-brown eyes met two jovial, emerald ones.
It had all felt real up until now. Although she wasn't able to catch him at first, Laura told herself that maybe he had better reflexes than she did. But now she stood face to face with the strangest sight.
His skin color was the same as the moonlight, luminescent and pale. He both blended in with the lighting and stood out. In the darkness his hair appeared to be a light color, but was tinted by the moon and darkness, so Laura couldn't quite pinpoint it. His eyes, however, twinkled in the darkness. They were such a mesmerizing shade of green that they would probably be visible in the blackest of forests. His face was both masculine and breathtakingly beautiful at the same time. The cheeks, as if chiseled by a symmetry-conscious artist's hands, were the perfect companions to a perfectly-straight nose that lead the eye to plump lips, whose edges aligned flawlessly with the center of his green irises. The masterpiece that was his face was finished off with a square jaw that left very little guess-work as to his gender.
Laura blinked a few times to make sure she wasn't imagining him. He was still there, smiling. It was the first time in her young life that she experienced what the adults referred to as "attraction" to the opposite sex. For as long as she could remember, she would make fun of her girlfriends for having crushes on boys. Boys were stupid, disgusting pigs, why would anyone like them?
But this person wasn't a boy. He looked about the same age as Laura's older cousin, Gregory. Gregory was seventeen this year, practically a man. She felt embarrassed for having such thoughts and was glad the darkness hid the changes in color on her face.
He reached out to her; she didn't know why she was frozen in place. His ice cold fingers pushed her chin up. "You don't look well. Your skin is hot."
The contact of their skin made her face burn even hotter. What was wrong with her? His hand immediately retracted and there was fear in his eyes. What had happened to him?
"Are you okay?" The look on his face was completely different from just a second ago. He was terrified of something, but she didn't know what. It was dead silent around them. The flowers swayed in the warm breeze. A loose strand of hair flew across her forehead.
The terror in his eyes changed to cold indifference, "Promise to never come here again."
"What?" She was really confused. Laura felt she never made any indication that she wanted to come back. Was her infatuation with him so obvious? She cursed her inability to hide her emotions.
"Don't ever come here again. For the rest of your life, you cannot come here again. I will take you home if you promise me that." His voice was more forceful now.
"Why? Did I do something wrong?" It was a stupid question; she was trespassing on someone else's property.
"I will leave you alone here and you can find your own way back if you want." He began to walk away.
She ran after him and grabbed a hold of his cold hand, "Don't leave me alone. I promise. I won't come back, but could you do me a favor."
He turned, those green eyes piercing through her, "Tell me your name! You already know who I am. I just want to know your name."
He smiled, "I'm Patrick."
"Nice to meet you, Patrick." She smiled at him too. He suddenly picked her up into his arms and they ran toward the forest at amazing speed. When he reached the base of a tree, he held onto her with only one arm and started climbing it with the same agility as he ran. Soon they were jumping from tree top to tree top. The air was cooler up there as it brushed through her hair. Laura clung to Patrick's neck because she was scared and because she wanted to be close to him. He suddenly jumped down and they were at the base of the forest on the other end. Patrick still held her in his arms.
"This is goodbye. Please don't return." He finally put her down.
"What are you?" She had never met anyone who could fly before. The stories about the Wellingtons suddenly sprang back into her head. There were many theories, but the most prominent theory was the most absurd and most frightening.
"You know already." With that he had disappeared into the forest again.
She took several gulps of air before whispering the most terrifying rumor about the Wellington family, "...vampires."
To See You Again
Falling ill from tuberculosis during the Victorian age was as good as a death sentence, even at the tender age of sixteen. Her youth had been stolen from her. Her father would go through any means to cure his child. She was the only family he had.
He had paid the best doctors in the country to examine her, but the prognosis remained the same. Laura Samuelson's days were numbered and there was nothing anyone could do. Her father wouldn't leave her side even though the doctor urged him to stay away. What if he became infected? He would rather die than see his child die before him.
Laura opened her eyes. She had slept for so long, the light was blinding. Her father was sleeping in a chair next to her bed. She shoved the covers off of herself and went to her window without waking him up. Laura looked in the direction of the Wellington's house.
Four years had passed and she still had frequent dreams about that meadow. They were strange dreams and the dialogue was never the same. No matter what, she could never catch the owner of the deep voice behind her. It saddened her that she could not see Patrick's face. She knew it was him in her dreams. There were many superstitions about vampires. One was that they could steal people's dreams. Did he often enter her dreams? Since she has fallen ill, she didn't dream of him.
She didn't have long to live. Since that day, Laura had kept her promise. She had not returned to the Wellington estate. But soon she wouldn't be able to go back even if she wanted to. Soon, she would no longer exist in this world. If she went now, it really would be the last time. Her father continued sleeping in the chair.
She slipped on an overcoat and tip-toed out of her room. The servants were all busy with their chores and nobody noticed her exit the house. It was close to sunset in the month of May and there was a slight breeze in the air. It was just like the first time she had met Patrick. Would she be able to find him again?
Nothing mattered. If she died of exhaustion on the way, it was just speeding up the inevitable. Laura pulled the hood over her waist-long tresses and crossed her arms in front of her chest. It was much more difficult to hide her gender now. Over the past two years she had become renowned for her beauty and her father often saw several suitors a week. He always reported potential prospects to her, but Laura was never interested. The thought of being with someone she didn't love put her off.
Although it was impossible and stupid, she couldn't imagine feeling the burning passion in her heart for anyone other than Patrick. Laura had met him once, but it was enough to steal her heart away. The dreams had only reinforced the bond she had forged with him that night. They had had full conversations, the same type of conversations one has when making new friends. Laura had not seen his face in four years, but his voice had captivated her many nights.
She stood in front of the forest. It was dark now. Laura took a deep breath and entered. She could see nothing around her, but knew the general direction of the big house. As long as she kept climbing the hill, she would eventually make it to the meadow in her dreams. Laura began to cough from the exasperation and had to halt for a little while. She coughed uncontrollably. It was a particularly bad episode this time. Something warm and moist hit her hand. She had never felt anything like it. Laura wiped the substance off on her dress and continued up the hill.
She could see light through the trunks. The brightness took some adjusting. It was just like the first time she had been here four years ago. Suddenly, there was a breeze and the scent of wildflowers drifted into her nostrils. She inhaled deeply, but coughed again. There was a moist feeling between her fingers. When she finally pulled her hand away, her eyes noticed the liquid on her hand was bright red. She looked down at her white dress where she had wiped her hand off in the forest. There was a bright red smear on it.
These were the final symptoms. She was finally coughing up blood. Her lungs were at their limit. The rustling sound around her was like déjà vu. "Patrick." She whispered and coughed again. This time the blood streamed out of her and she collapsed into his cold frame.
The Fate of Vampires
His green eyes changed to yellow. Was it the blood, she wondered? He had told her to stay away because of his bloodlust.
Patrick had explained that he chased her away for her own safety. Her blood was sweet and musky, the most desirable of all blood kinds. The night they first met he had come very close to biting her. That's why he had to push her away. Nobody deserved his fate. Eternal life was eternal suffering. His family had died centuries ago and now he lived with a clan of unrelated vampires that pretended to be a family to throw off the humans.
Vampires could live for very long periods of time without consuming the blood of humans, years in fact. They could nourish themselves with raw meat of animals, but nothing compared to the rejuvenating effects of human blood. Vampires who had found a mate, could live off of the mate's blood, but if either one left the other, they would age at the same pace as humans unless they drank other humans' blood. Unfortunately, that was the equivalent of cheating on your spouse in vampire society. It was shameful and looked down upon to betray your lover for your own survival. Still, they were animals with uncontrollable urges.
Newly-born vampires had problems controlling their fangs. Often, they would bite themselves and bleed profusely because the wound would re-open. Most new vampires had poor self-control. Some had a terrible aversion to blood; they couldn't stand the sight of it and refused to drink it until they eventually perished, although it could take years. Others had bloodlust that was so bad, they kill those they drink from because their thirst is never quenched.
Either way, once vampires learn to control either their aversion to blood or their bloodlust, they form two groups of vampires. Ideally, vampire mates were usually made of one individual from each group.
The One I Love
"I promise this is the last time I'll come here." Her body heaved within his grasp as she coughed up another stream of blood.
Patrick's yellow eyes reflected great pain, his beautiful face twisted with primal urges and a desire to retain his rational consciousness, "Why did you come here?"
She smiled weakly, "I just wanted to see the one I love before I die." It was too late to lie to herself or him.
Tears escaped his eyes, "I'm sorry, Laura, but I'm too selfish." He embraced her tightly, his cold body relieving her feverish one. His lips met hers for a brief second and traced down her jawline to her neck. Two pricks were followed by intense pressure. Her blood which had become like poison to her body was now flowing into him. Laura looked at the moon through half-open eyes and finally fainted.
~*~I Will Never Lose You Again~*~
Patrick pulled away from her neck, his green eyes no longer hidden beneath loose skin nor surrounded by wrinkles.
Laura pressed a hand against his young, smooth skin. He placed his hand on top of hers and moved to kiss the inside of her palm. "I thought I wouldn't find you." His green eyes reflected years of pain.
She had a natural aversion to blood and the loss of her father to suicide upon learning that she had disappeared, left her in shock. No matter how hard Patrick tried to revive her to her senses, she didn't get better. The rest of her family finally decided to place her in a sanatorium against all her protest. Patrick didn't have much say in the matter. In the human world, they had no relationship.
As the years passed, the employees in the sanatorium were becoming suspicious of the fact that she never aged. Patrick visited her often, and when the aunt that had placed Laura there passed away, he was finally able to become her guardian and take her back home.
Laura became better and even started to feed off of him, but it was always very difficult. Nevertheless, they lived happily together for many years, until old nightmares and guilt about her father's death finally forced her to lose her memory. One night, she actually disappeared.
Patrick searched for her and never gave up hope. He was aging quickly because he no longer had her blood to nourish him. Finally, he found her in America. She was a college student there, convinced that she had been adopted by a family at a very young age.
The family she lived with were also vampires and kept the secret from her, knowing there was something wrong. They had found her only a few years ago, confused and wandering the streets. They had no idea who she was, but she kept referring to her father and that he had died.
They soon started searching for the clan she belonged to, but there were no clans that missed a young woman with her description. Through sheer accident they found a British missing person's report line on the internet and there was her picture. Patrick thanked the heavens for using human means to search for her.
They had contacted him a few weeks ago and the first time he laid eyes on her, he had to control himself. He had not drunk blood in ages and the presence of her body was like a magnet for him. Yet, he stopped himself and waited until her memory came back.
His last hope had been the dream in the meadow. It was snowing in his heart, even though she still remembered the warm breeze of their first meeting. Now she was here, in his arms and he would never lose her again.
She looked up at him and smiled. The look of recognition in her eyes brought tears to his own, and she quickly wiped them away with her slender fingers. He kissed her on the forehead, nose, and lips before hugging her even more tightly.