Hey everyone!
Sorry for the late update. Just so you all know, Sweet Cinnamon and Honey the novel should be coming out in early August. In my poll it was projected that the book would cost $2 (USD). That, my friends, is the projected cost of the DIGITAL version. I'm still uncertain as to what the paperback version will cost because I haven't gotten that far in the publishing process. The completed novel is 90,000 words, give or take a few hundred, and should span over 200 pages (don't quote me on this.)
To answer some reviewer questions:
1. The original novel will have the same title: Sweet Cinnamon and Honey.
2. As far as fully posting the complete fanfiction on Fanfiction net, I'm not sure. I may post the entire story, I may not. I haven't made the decision yet. All you need to know right now is that I will continue to post chapters (sporadically) at least until the novel is published. After that, it depends on copyright issues and legal stuff like that.
Anyways, you all don't care about that right now. On to the story!
Midnight left the prison town of MacPherson—which resembled more of bloody graveyard than anything since the convicts and guards who hadn't died in the chaos were now fleeing for their lives—around 3:30am, giving him ample time to make the trip back to his hotel room in Magnolia a leisurely affair.
He supposed he could have stayed longer, but he knew that if he killed everyone it would have screamed 'vampire attack' just a little too loudly. There was something of an international government conspiracy to keep vampires and other otherworldly beings swept under the rug, meanwhile utilizing vampire hunter guilds to keep the supernatural populations under control. Vampires had had no official direct say in this from what his sire had told him, but there were rumors that powerful leaders had definitely been influenced in the decision. However, it was widely agreed upon that the decision had been the most efficient outcome for all involved, except perhaps humans who weren't aware. Either way, he trusted that the government would cover up his…activities well enough so that it was presentable to the ignorant commoner population. There was a chance they would involve a guild, but he wasn't worried. After his reminder of how truly pitiful vampire hunters were these days when he'd so easily maimed that Elfman character, he wasn't too concerned about what the result of being tracked and caught up to would be. If he was lucky, the fight might actually turn out to be a challenge.
Unfortunately, no one pursued him—or perhaps it was alright because the bloodlust was dissipating the farther he was from the battlefield. It was only when he saw the artificial lights of Magnolia's few skyscrapers that he was suddenly forced to acknowledge the fact that he really couldn't go anywhere in public the way he looked, no matter how much he enjoyed the feel of shredded flesh embedded under his claws or the dampness of blood on his skin and clothing.
Vaulting over a few fences in the suburbs, where everyone would be asleep at this time, Midnight finally located a decent in-ground pool with running filters to clean up in. His clothing was definitely unsalvageable when it came to appearances' sake, but blood was one of the main reasons he wore all black; at the first or even a second, less discerning glance, one couldn't really tell the clothing was bloodied at all. The only reason he couldn't wear this outfit again was because he'd ripped it places when he'd become a little…overzealous.
By the time he looked relatively presentable again and was walking up the stairs to his third-story hotel room, Midnight at last felt normal again. He could admit it had been a close call, but he hadn't completely lost control in the end. He had calmed down radically and although this situation he faced wasn't ideal, he could see that there were options that didn't have to include quitting his profession, losing Lucy, or going insane and dying—all of which were, now that he was thinking rationally again, quite distasteful outcomes.
However, having somewhat come to terms with the thought of having a mate on his trip back to the hotel, he found that losing Lucy was probably the least favorable of all the possible results—especially because losing her would consequently lead to him eventually losing his life in some way or another. He decided that perhaps he didn't really need his sire or his specific position anymore; he likened it to when a child left his parents' home, married, and had a family of his own.
It seemed like a decent comparison, excluding the part of starting a new family. Vampires couldn't have children—it was against nature entirely. Technically, vampires themselves were a blasphemy to the natural world by being the living dead and by extension, it was impossible for a something that was dead to create life through the act of procreation.
He sincerely hoped Lucy hadn't wanted children in her lifetime—because she certainly wasn't getting any.
Now that he'd fully regained control of his emotions and was aware of what was going on within him, Midnight could see where his instincts started to bleed into what he actually felt for her. Upon closer introspection, he found his sexual attraction to her was not manufactured by the fact that she was apparently his mate and, slightly to his disgruntlement, he was genuinely somewhat fond of her. He didn't know her very well at all, but what he did know wasn't unsatisfactory and it was enough to make him amenable to getting to know her better.
Whatever decision he made moving forward at this point, it included a living Lucy by his side; they were going to have a very long time together and she would spend the better part of it in his close proximity. Even if she spent centuries not speaking to him—because obviously at some point he was going to turn her, although he hadn't decided when yet—she would break eventually. And if she still chose to reject him, she would live a very lonely eternity. He had known it before any of his knowledge about mates, even before he'd acted out on his physical attraction to her.
He would not share.
Finally arriving at the end of the corridor where his room was, he pulled out the key he'd hidden under the door, the tip just barely peeking out. Sliding the plastic card through the magnetized reader, the small light flashed green and the lock clicked open.
He pushed the door open slowly. Lucy was unconscious again—she'd most likely worn herself out fighting her restraints.
Walking over to her, he noticed her skin had lost too much of its pallor and her breathing was slow and uneven. Frowning, he shredded through her bonds and the gag, gently maneuvering her body into a more comfortable position.
As soon as the fabric was uncovered from her mouth, she took an immediate gasp of air as though she'd been oxygen deprived. He frowned at the implication; if he'd been gone too much longer, things might have taken a turn for the worst. In a detached way it would have been almost funny—he'd just come to terms with the situation and then she died by his own hand, completely unintentionally.
Observing her for a time, he noticed that her breathing was still shallow although much steadier now, but she absolutely had to have sustenance—she was extremely pale, her normal peaches-and-cream skin tone almost white.
For a moment there was an irritated pause when he realized there was simply no human food, not even nonperishables, in his hotel room because as a vampire he had no need for it. He wanted to get her something nutritious and healthy, but at this time of night he'd be lucky if there were any stores open at all.
Furthermore, he only had another thirty minutes before the sun would start to rise. As he was still invigorated from his spree it would not be difficult to stay up into the daytime hours to keep watch over her and make her eat as much as she could handle, but if he was going to do that he would have to stock up.
With his limited timeframe his best option turned out to be a 24-hour gas station that had a small grocery section. Refrigerated, previously-freeze-dried fruits and vegetables were the best he could get when it came to vitamins, but he also picked out a relatively fresh pasta salad that had a few redeeming qualities in the form of carrots, peas, and grilled chicken.
However, the perishables would not last because his simple hotel room did not warrant a refrigerator, so he picked out two packages of beef jerky—protein, a large bag of baked potato chips, two bottles of orange juice and a singular, small candy bar—carbohydrates and glucose, and finally a jumbo-sized water bottle—for obvious reasons.
He wasn't about to squander money on something as ridiculous as food from a gas station, so after casting a small glamour, the clerk believed he had paid in full and packed everything into a large plastic bag before bidding him a cheerful, if not somewhat hesitant—he hadn't changed clothes in his haste to beat dawn—'Good night!'
Midnight found it rather humiliating, toting a plastic bag full of mainly junk food around like the common human, but for Lucy's sake—and thereby his sanity's—he had no choice. The one thing he refused to do was walk down the street with it, however, and took to the rooftops as usual. Even if he was forced into the role of caretaker for a weak mortal girl, he still had his dignity.
When he was back in his room, the dim blue light of early morning was peeking mutely through the small, unavoidable gaps where the curtains joined. His first order to business was to wake her and make her eat the perishables—he'd force it down her throat without hesitation if she resisted.
Her opinion mattered even less now; she was so weak she wouldn't be able to lift a single, harmless finger against him. Although it might be amusing if she tried, in a vaguely annoying sort of way. Sitting down on the edge of the bed by her feet, he found his eyes wandering to her soft pink lips. They were parted tantalizingly as she breathed quietly through her mouth and he fought the sudden, unbidden, but not exactly objectionable urge to kiss her so hard she was forced to awaken. In the end, he settled for a more conventional method.
"Lucy," he said, louder than his usual tone, and accentuated his voice with a rough shake. This was absolutely shameful, acting like a nursemaid for a human. She stirred, and upon the second attempt her eyes slowly fluttered open.
Apparently, despite her sickly pallor, she had regained more strength than he'd realized. She screamed upon seeing him and he immediately covered her mouth, glowering at her threateningly until the cry died down and left behind only a fearful expression. When he was certain she'd stay quiet, he removed his hand.
"Wh-why did you-" she immediately tried to stammer.
"You need to eat," he interrupted her brusquely. "Sit up."
If she could scream that loud, she could certainly sit up on her own.
After a few attempts to restore motion to her abused shoulder muscles and a good deal of pitiful whimpers, she at last pulled herself into a stiff sitting position. Her eyes moved from her hands to him, her expression speaking of muted terror, but he ignored it and handed her the pasta salad, fruits, and vegetables.
"Eat."
With trembling hands she opened the pasta bowl first, detaching the prepackaged fork from the lid and unwrapping it before she tentatively began to eat. After the first few bites she seemed to realize how hungry she was because she chewed much more quickly, practically inhaling the food. He stood from the bed and headed towards the bathroom to change, but for fear of her vomiting from eating too quickly, he commented over his shoulder, "Slow down. You'll make yourself sick." She didn't look in his direction but nodding to acknowledge him, visibly taking smaller bites.
He disappeared into the bathroom.
By the time Lucy had eaten all she could, having finished off the pasta salad, fruits, and most of the vegetables, Midnight still hadn't left the bathroom.
In all honesty, she was relieved to be alone.
At one point she'd glanced down at herself and it clicked in her mind that he'd redressed her, although in different clothing, before stealing her unconscious body from her home. It logically made sense, but she found it hard to imagine him doing something so seemingly…thoughtful, especially because of why she hadn't had clothes on in the first place.
Her cheeks turned bright red in shame at the mere mentioning of the memory, but she ignored as her insides twisted in disgust and forced her thoughts to current, more pressing matters.
While she had no interest in questioning him about why he'd tied her up—it was fairly obvious that he'd gone out and had needed to ensure her status as his prisoner before leaving—she was curious as to why she was his prisoner in the first place. No matter how horrifying the reason might be, she decided she needed to know what had changed.
And more importantly, how much did this change affect how long she had to live?
Then the shower turned on and Lucy wasn't sure if she was relieved or made that much more nervous. She was uncertain as to whether her need for information was allowing her to use this time to muster up all the courage she had in her or if his prolonged absence was just exacerbating her already deep-seated fear of him.
His violence towards her that morning when she'd almost exposed him to sunlight had crossed some internal boundary she hadn't known she'd had. Intuitively, she supposed, their interactions so far had been based more on Midnight threatening her rather than him actually making good on those threats. Even though he'd done…those things to her against her will, she had never gotten the feeling the actions were borne from spitefulness or meant to be some kind of demented punishment for an imagined slight. He'd said he was attracted to her and with him somehow believing that because he had not killed her she owed him her life, perhaps he thought he was entitled to it or something. Even though it made her sick to her stomach to try, she could somewhat understand how he might come to that conclusion no matter how completely wrong he was.
But the kidnapping and her near-attempt on his life had changed their dynamic irrevocably, even if he hadn't seemed angry at her anymore in their short interaction before he'd secluded himself in the bathroom. Seeing the sheer, very real insanity in his eyes and the way he'd maliciously hurt her to demonstrate his anger had crossed the previously-mentioned internal boundary—shattered it, even. She'd known logically he could hurt her and her friends the entire time but even then, Natsu and Gray had unknowingly been in the same room as him and he hadn't done anything to harm them. Oh, he'd made it clear he would next time—but she never had to really think about a next time if she promised herself she would follow his rules. The close calls like that, never quite leading to retribution, had obviously instilled a sick sense of false security.
That morning, he'd made good on his words, however relatively benign the punishment had been in comparison to what he could have done if really he wanted to hurt her. That twisted security she'd felt was now shattered; she had proof by her own experience that he truly could hurt anyone he wanted.
And even if she hadn't experienced it for herself, that maddened look in his eyes when he'd glared at her…
The door to the bathroom suddenly opened and Lucy flinched. Midnight came out wearing a different outfit than before; tight black jeans and a form-fitting black V-neck. His strangely two-toned hair was dripping wet and she noted vaguely that his lips and eyes were still darkened by makeup. Against her will she noticed his corded, lean biceps and forearms and the way the shirt fit him so snugly that his pectoral muscles and abs were almost outlined.
At the blatant display of his strength and the reminder of the terrible things he could do with it, Lucy quickly turned away and swallowed with some difficulty. In the end, it seemed that waiting for him to come out so she could question him had only built up her fear to impossible levels. She'd be lucky if she could get out a sentence without tripping over her words so much she didn't make any sense.
She felt his eyes on her; even though he'd been throwing his dirty clothes carelessly on the ground by the chest of drawers, he'd obviously noticed her involuntary inspection of his body. Not daring to look in his direction yet she see a smug look on his face—or worse, hunger in his eyes—she fixated her eyes on the clothing he dropped. All the while, she was very aware of him reclining on the bed beside her. She stiffened at his proximity, but when he made no move to touch her or even speak to her, she relaxed.
Then her eyes actually focused on the discarded clothing. They were ripped in places that they hadn't been before and although slight, they were visibly darkened in some places, the fabric appearing stiffer in the darker patches.
Curious, she studied them more closely. Even at the distance, if she looked hard enough she could see a barely noticeable reddish tint to the stains.
"Is that blood?" she asked shrilly, speaking before she could stop herself.
"Not mine," he replied coolly, completely blasé. Lucy began to tremble in fear. The clothing was stiffer with dried blood than it was its own soft fabric.
She was pretty sure she didn't want to know, but she asked, "Who did you…"
"One hundred, maybe one hundred and twenty. I wasn't counting." If Midnight had any opinion on the matter, if he felt anything at all about what he'd done, it wasn't forthcoming in his tone. He wasn't looking at her either, only staring straight ahead expressionlessly. She was pretty sure the truth was that he didn't care at all and he didn't feel a thing.
Lucy was stunned, unable to speak in horror. Her question had been about who he had hurt, but apparently he hadn't just hurt someone. It had been many people, and the way he had worded it…he'd killed them. You didn't just hurt one hundred-something people.
There was a long period in which Lucy hyperventilated uncontrollably, realizing that the vampire who'd claimed her life, whose touches she had responded to even though it was unwillingly, who was laying on the bed next to her not even three feet away had left her tied up and gagged in his hotel room in order to slaughter over one hundred of people.
Probably innocents.
How was that even possible? She was feeling lightheaded and her breaths came in sharp and shallow.
As if reading her mind, Midnight said irritably, "They were convicted felons. Calm down."
If he thought telling her that was going to make her feel any better, he was wrong. Perhaps if he'd dropped any hints that there had been an actual struggle, some kind of retaliation she might be able to calm down just a bit. But she'd seen his body earlier; there hadn't been so much as a scratch on him and the way he'd said none of the blood on his clothing was his had been completely blunt and honest. Felons or not, it had clearly been nothing less short of a massacre.
Despite that she was physically incapable of doing as he'd commanded, Lucy attempted to slow her breathing. When she'd caught her breath, she whispered, "Why?"
Midnight finally turned to her. Surprisingly, his eyes weren't cold or smug…they were something of a mixture between exasperation and amusement. "If you're going to interrogate me, ask question you actually want to know the answers to."
Swallowing the hard lump in her throat, Lucy spoke a little louder. "I actually do want to know why over one hundred people deserved to die," she insisted, sounding immensely more confident than she really felt. Maybe it was some kind of vehement denial making her tone sound so strong.
Midnight snorted softly in derision at her persistence. "I was having a bad day."
Her jaw dropped in equal parts horror, fury, and incredulity. However, she would not admit that he was right and that she obviously hadn't wanted to know the answer. Strangely enough though, at that moment she was too disgusted with him to be afraid. "You killed that many people because you were having a bad day? What kind of bastard-"
He cocked a brow at her, the gesture interrupting her, daring her continue her rant. Knowing that it was a battle she would lose and also very aware that apparently, he'd spent the entirety of that day—night, really—murdering indiscriminately, she stopped. Angering him was at the bottom of the list of things she wanted to do.
Biting her lip to stop herself from going on, she decided to ask a more relevant question.
"What…happens to me if you have a bad day?"
Now he was looking at her, seeming to actually be interested in the conversation then. "Nothing, if you behave."
She forced the words out before she could lose her random spurt of courage. "Why did you take me from my home? Why am I here?"
To her surprise, he fully turned to her, now laying on his side with his head propped up on his hand. He regarded her with an unidentifiable expression and although she didn't know exactly what it meant, she found herself nervously shifting away from him. Whatever that look was, it warranted some distance.
"Things have changed," he said slowly.
"And these…things…have something do with me?" Lucy asked uncertainly. She scooted away a few more inches, only stopping when she reached the edge of the bed.
He watched her move away from him with amusement before responding. "Only you."
A pit formed in her stomach, but she forged on. If whatever had caused him to kidnap her only concerned her, she clearly needed to know what it was. "What, uh, changed?" She cleared her throat nervously.
"Again, don't ask questions you don't want the answers to." He started to turn away again.
Bristling at his blatant disregard to a question that there was no way she didn't want the answer to, Lucy bristled. "Even if I don't want the answer to it, I think I deserve to know the reason I've been kidnapped!"
In the blink of an eye he was crouching in front of her, his face leaning in so close their noses almost touched. She would have fallen off the bed in her fright had he not grabbed the back of her neck, saving her from an ungraceful tumble but also anchoring her much too close to him.
"You only deserve the answers I decide to give you," he told her harshly. She flinched back, but he kept her from moving away from him with his strong grip. "And you haven't been kidnapped. From now on, your home is by my side, wherever I decide to go."
"No!" she shrieked angrily, her fear making shove against him and not care if she hurt herself falling off the tall bed. "No, you can't do that to me, I won't-"
"I can do whatever I want with you," he hissed, red eyes narrowing dangerously. "You are mine."
She pushed at him harder, trying to disengage his hand from around the back of her neck by twisting and turning her head rapidly. "I never agreed to-"
Her anger flared when he cut her off yet again. "You never had a choice in the matter."
She glared at him hotly, about to argue further and try to actually get a full sentence in, when she realized he wasn't making eye contact anymore. His gaze had strayed to her lips and heaving chest.
Panicking, she changed tune completely and cried, "No, don't-"
Before she could get another word out, he had yanked her into him and his lips were crushing hers.
She attempted to scream. They were in a hotel room; surely someone would hear her! He'd gone to all the trouble of tying her up earlier-
Midnight took advantage of her parted lips and forced his tongue into her mouth. She choked at the intrusion and began to thrash desperately, but he rectified her behavior quickly when he dug his claws painfully into the thin, sensitive skin of her neck.
However, just as soon as he'd deepened the kiss, he was pulling away, although he still didn't allow her to fall off the bed. She closed her teary eyes in relief when he released her once she was fully on the bed again.
"Too weak," he said thoughtfully, and while it was she he was obviously referring to, the comment didn't seem to be aimed at her. Almost comically, he slumped down onto the bed and closed his eyes. "Go to bed."
Too overwhelmed with gratitude towards whatever being had blessed her with a reprieve from Midnight's unwanted amorous advances, Lucy did not argue and tell him she was not tired. If he was looking for some kind of justification to go on, insisting that she could stay awake longer would give him that.
Noting that Midnight seemed to sleep above the covers, she tugged the blanket down as much as she could with his weight on the bed and then shimmied underneath. It was warmer this way and that was nice because she was only wearing shorts and a baggy, thin t-shirt. When dressing her, he had clearly not gone for practicality, or comfort, or…
She found it was perfectly safe to assume Midnight had grabbed the nearest semblance of an outfit and put it on her as quickly as he could get it over with.
Lucy didn't fall asleep for a while, but she relished the warmth of being tucked snugly under the covers, no matter how starchy they were. At the same time, she tried her very best to keep her mind blank because if she let it wander, she would be reminded of the distressing, unacceptable news her captor had given her.
Your home is by my side…
…you never had a choice…
…I can do whatever I want with you…
…You are mine.
She clenched her eyes shut tightly as the words replayed like a terrifying scene from a horror movie, over and over again in her mind.
With frightfully intense regret, Lucy realized that she should have risked him killing her, possibly calling his bluff. She should have opened those damned curtains.
Midnight had not been playful when he'd told her the life-changing news. His tone had been vehement and deadly serious; he meant every word. He wouldn't tell her why he was doing this to her, but he was going to subject her to it all the same.
Suddenly, a hot tear burned a trail down her face. She stifled the sob that threatened to come afterward, but that only seemed to force out a second and third tear until they were gushing.
Refusing to make a sound—she didn't want that bastard to know he had this power over her, the ability to make her cry and her heart ache so terribly—the tears poured unceasingly. But she was utterly silent; he had no idea how much pain she was in and if she was really going to be stuck with him for as long as he decided he wanted her, she wasn't going to show him weakness. His words had had a finality to them; he wasn't intending on letting her go, not in the foreseeable future and possibly not at all.
If that was the case, maybe dying wasn't such a bad alternative to being a veritable slave in every way for the rest of her miserable life.
She was never going to see her friends again.
The tears poured faster.
She thought of Natsu, Gray, and Erza and wondered if any of them had come to check on her yet after not answering their texts or calls for at least twenty-four hours. While she hoped they would launch a successful search party and rescue her, she also remembered that her ripped clothes were still scattered around her couch. When she was found, she didn't want them knowing that she'd been violated in that way.
Tears, hotter and faster, streamed down her cheeks.
And Levy—she might be able to do something too, maybe something even more plausibly helpful than her other friends because she knew vampires existed and she knew of the situation. When she didn't show up for work without calling in sick or swapping shifts with someone, Levy would know something had happened.
But she had no idea when to expect that. What was today? Sunday or Monday? Or could it still be Saturday? Surely not Tuesday…it was frustrating that she wasn't sure anymore, not with her erratic sleep schedule and Midnight's reversed days and nights. Angrily, she realized that she would soon call days nights and nights days just like he did.
The tears were so hot now that they were burning her skin. Her only respite, as she bit her lip to gain some control over how her chest was spasming with her repressed sobs, was that Midnight was asleep and he had no idea that he was able to hurt her this much. Her tears were now hers and hers alone; he would only ever see her anger and rage.
A part of her told her that tears would follow whether it was anger or sadness that he was causing her.
As her heart ached and her lungs heaved and her cheeks burned from her tears, Lucy could only hope that she would receive the mercy of a peaceful, dreamless sleep very soon.
She didn't even realize it when it did.
Again, thank you to all my fantastic reviewers! You guys rock!
