Chapter 46
"There is more…" he immediately blinks releasing a heavy gasp while jerking his head to the side, his entire body a live wire ready to snap at any moment and defend himself should the need arise. His eyes betraying his astonishment at the sight now before his humble eyes.
His room was clean. His room was normal. There was no darkness…there was no wolf…
Just a girl leaning against one of the four bedposts of his bed barely holding herself up with her right hand. "But I can't show you any m…" his eyes go wide at the sight of her falling form. Seras's eyelids drop and her body gives in to the welcoming touch of darkness, her knees finally failing her.
She drops loosing consciousness, but her body never hits the cold floor.
.
.
Her knees buckle beneath her, but he was quick to catch her and hold her up with his left arm cradling her against his chest pulling her close in a gesture he didn't realize he was doing until the deed was already done. He moved despite the weakness in his own body and the throbbing in his lungs that each breath brought; the two of them ending up on the floor in front of the bed once his own knees buckle under their combined weight. Her head falls limp backwards and all the remaining shadows around her feet dissipated vanishing into thin air as he momentarily struggled with a particular sharp stab of pain in his left side and keep his balance. He picked her up and was suddenly reminded of how weightless she truly was. Just like that night.
And to his surprise, the wolf reappears from the lingering shadows claws grating against the floor and bared teeth flashing in the candle light. He emerges from the shadows as soon as his hands touch her skin growling, watching and following his each and every move with the utmost interest, 4 pairs of burning orbs never faltering from the sight of his charge and the man who had entrusted her to him without ever knowing. He remained in the shadows with his ears up and poised and his long tail flicking behind him unsure whether to stop or twitch again.
The prince's lips curl into a satisfied grin before his chuckles fill the room most pleased by the sheer amount of power she could display while so utterly weak. He already knew what she was capable of while properly fed making this an ever bigger surprise. She killed most efficiently destroying everything like an unstoppable force of nature when set upon proper task. What it was to be Nosferatu. Without weakness, insecurity or fear. Without the limitations of a mortal life.
And it all changed in the blink of an eye when he saw her struggle to eat. Vampires fed off blood and that much was certain of, but this creature before him couldn't accomplish such a feat for some reason. And that made it all the more interesting.
.
.
Seras didn't know how long she'd been unconscious for. Her eyelids weakly flutter open and when she woke she found herself lying down on the very bed she had stood watch over these last two weeks with her right arm draped over her stomach, her yellow hair sprawled all over his pillow and a soft, warm blanket beneath her. Still, the biggest surprise was finding her master sitting down on the bed on her left watching her with an intensely focused expression while his back leaned against the black mahogany headboard. His head was turned in her direction and his right arm was outstretched, the back of his index finger tenderly caressing her left cheek before pulling away.
He spent the last few two hours or so by watching her sleep and guarding her in more or less the same manner she had done for him, repaying a kindness. Outside, the sun burned brighter and brighter rising beyond the horizon, the fresh morning air seeping into through the open balcony door. The hours passed in silence with only the sound of his own breathing to rhythmically disturb it. The intense constricting sensation vanished once he too sat down to rest, though not completely. He was certain he popped one of his stitches and judging by the stain of red on his chest, though the amount itself wasn't not overly large, he was most likely right in that assumption. Changing the bandages would have to wait; he simply could care less about it.
After a while his eyes close, head leaning back against the headboard, giving in to the gentle call of slumber. At least for a moment he would briefly rest his eyes. However, just when he was about to sink in further into the welcoming embrace of warm and peaceful slumber his eyes snap open to the sound of Seras's voice, a faint and gentle sigh, as her head turned towards him burying her face further into his pillow and drawing those long and slender legs up a little to her chest. Even after all this time watching her, the sight continued to fascinate him as to the manner of clothing she wore: so foreign and strange. So utterly formfitting that it left nothing to the imagination. And though he'd seen his share of beautiful women dressed to match in elegant gowns as well as simple ones, there was something completely different to the creature standing before him.
Her waist was small and thin flowing from her ample breasts to the curve of her hips also encased in the same soft fabric before the later stopped around mid thigh exposing almost the entire length of those very long and very slender, elegant legs. And whether the black silk like material she wore over them was an undergarment of some sorts ceased to be important. She looked exquisitely exotic and the thought of running his fingers along all of those very lines and cradling her curves in the palms of his hands briefly flickered to life though they were all quickly stomped much like the rest. The silk like soft sweater felt warm to the touch hugging her upper body and leaving those luscious legs encased in what seemed to be another form of black silk that ended rather abruptly around her upper thighs thus leaving a very visible patch of pale, bare skin between black and cream.
It wasn't proper, but damn if the temptation wasn't worth it. And the thought alone amused him bringing a genuine smile to his face. He'd spent his life trying to get people to live with honor and dignity, the very little their narrow-minded brains were capable of, and loyalty and truth were among the few things he held most dear. After all, they were what he was most depraved of as a child growing up with nothing but darkness, lies and deceit in his ever present struggle to survive. He wanted those around him to be truthful. He wanted them to be loyal, if not to him personally then at least towards each other. But most of all, deep down, he wanted not to fear being around them. He wanted to trust.
And with each passing year that desire dwindled more and more with the realization that the people would never rise to the occasion, that there weren't many around him he could trust. They could only fear and everything they did and the way they acted came in accordance to that fear. It was tiring. They can't change and they won't change.
What is this?
What I can do.
What she could do…
The experience had been thrilling and liberating. Freedom while bathe in utter and complete fear. After so long, after so many years of struggling to put that emotion, that weakness, behind him she had to conjure it back to the surface with the ease of child picking up his favorite toy. What more could she do? What more was this small creature capable of? This vampire…Everything so far was just a sample. And it left him yearning for more. Years ago he never really did get his answers. He was left hanging.
And whilst watching her he found himself touching her face without realizing it. It was always she that initiated any form of contact between them in the past. So for once, he wished to be the one to try at his own pace and at his own time. Her skin felt unbelievably soft and it was barely a tiny caress. From her face, tracing one elegant cheekbone, his index finger trailed down along the underside of her jaw and throat slipping into the hollow at the base of her neck and then finding the low hem of her equally soft sweater as it fell a little over her bare shoulders. Just one more mystery to unfold. What fabric was this? Where did it come from? It was incredibly soft and warm to the touch, but it wasn't silk or cotton or even the type of wool he was accustomed to though it seemed to be the closest match he could think of.
"Whose loyalty do you keep?"
He found himself asking the questions ravaging his mind for some time now out loud to the silence of the room where no one would be able to hear it or offer him proper reply in return. He could no longer ignore the tiny voice in his head demanding answers. More so now when said vampire purposely implicated in his own flesh and blood in the mix. The undead were…
His eyes drift shut and away from her sleeping face turning instead to the faraway wall as though it would wield him the answers he desired while leaning his head back against the headboard for a second time. They were…dead for a lack of a better word. Dead and decaying corpses rising from their graves to feast on the flesh of the living,. Rising with the moon with skin pale and cold and rotten, the sunlight burning their putrid and diseased flesh. Bloodthirsty creatures with no morals and no creed to follow in life. Harbingers of death.
And yet…
Seras's second sigh and the light movement of her body capture his attention once more and his deep blue eyes fall over her face baring more questions than answers.
Damn useless book. It really was utterly useless just as she proclaimed it to be.
None of these features lay in the creature before him. Her skin was pale. Beautifully pale in fact like an exquisitely carved marble statue flawless in its perfection. Her figure just as flawless with a small, curvy and slim built. She barely came up to the base of his throat with him needing to look down at her each time they spoke. Fragile…she looked incredibly fragile, ready to break and it was all he could think of once the terror she put him through faded leaving her stranded at his mercy and unconscious in his arms. She fit so perfectly in his arms pressed against him, now just like then. She needed only to speak up and her voice filled the room with an immediate sense of comfort and peace. A trait that did not falter after 15 years of silence. The years left him wanting and the regrettable events of late stole more of that precious time.
He trusted her. He trusted a demon girl…vampire…a childe not of God more than any other mortal. And with this recent turn of events he felt confident he could offer her his whole life without ever coming to regret it. He finally had a sense of loyalty that would not falter no matter what. And it was beautiful.
The prince releases a breath momentarily cursing his own train of thought. These weren't things he should be considering and thoughts he should be having towards another woman especially one such as herself. Her hair flowed like silk, like a halo, around her head accentuating the paleness of her skin, the slender slope of her nose and the dark color of her long eyelashes along with the long and inviting column of her elegant throat so easily within his reach should he just lean in and bury his face in the crook of her neck and loose himself in the sweet scent of that very yellow hair like melted gold. Her chest never moved and now that he was free to really look at her he kept expecting the smallest movement to appear. And more than once he found himself with his hand hovering just above her heart eager reach out and touch… just to see how it would feel not have the rhythmic beat stomp against his palm. More than once he had to stop himself from lowering his fingers all the way down and encase the inner swell of her left breast just to feel. He knew for a fact that the small organ had no problem beating when she took the form of that small white cat, but he didn't really get a chance to feel her heart while in human form. Her chest always had the appearance and the illusion of movement whenever she spoke or spent more time with someone other than himself in the same room with them. To them, she had to appear alive. Even the way in which she seemed to move appeared unworldly and her body completely disconnected from the rest of the world around her. The more he looked the less unusual it became. He rarely noticed her chest moving after a while, nor her breaths making a sound.
Her irises were red upon waking and half lidded with sleep partially hidden behind her golden bangs. Beautiful…
"You need blood." It's the first thing he whispers while gazing directly into those tired eyes, the words coming so easily despite their meaning.
"Yes master." She whispers back weakly, eyelids momentarily dropping. A light growl pierces through the following silence alerting them both to the wolf's presence. The large form moved like a shadow in the far corner of the room with red eyes ablaze and teeth glistening in the glow of the fire burning in the fireplace. His long claws scratching the wooden floor once more as he paced and his long bushy tail flickered behind him moving from side to side in short swipes. The prince's gaze briefly flickers over the creature, over the dark and ghostly figure brushing along the length of the back wall of the room. He seemed to be watching and examining as the red of hid eyes did not break eye contact with his own blue despite the movement of his large body; a body larger than that of a normal sized grown wolf. He faded away after the first few agonizing minutes in which those very crimson eyes had stared him down like a bug ready to crush it should any misfortune befall his mistress.
He was protecting her and be the time he chose to meet that murderous gaze once more, the creature vanished completely as if issuing a silent proclamation. I trust you keep her safe.
Now that she was awake once more the momentary peace was broken and he would pounce without restraint should it be asked of him. Let me show you what I can do, how I can protect by easily misleading you in getting to close.
The hound was the chill the prince had been force to ignore throughout his time guarding her. He never saw him, but always felt him somewhere in the back of his mind along with those crimson eyes so unlike hers following his every move without his body actually existing in the same room with them at the same physical level. He felt watched from the moment she collapsed in his arms in exhaustion and the moment the creature's body evaporated. H never truly left to begin with.
"He won't harm you." The sound of her voice breaks the spell the wolf had over him making the prince turn his attention back to the young woman sitting beside him. "He's just…."
"You need to drink Childe." He gently interrupts her. He didn't need to hear her say 'protecting me' to grasp on what she was going to add. Both his tone and his expression are serious while addressing her to which he expected the same kind of serious response on her behalf considering how weak she was. And yet she just smiles making the sleepy expression of her face all the more endearing. He already had a glass of blood prepared on the bedside table, blood he took from his own wrist before deciding to rest his eyes next to her.
/You will drink./ she looks so peaceful there by his side under the narrowing gaze of his Safire eyes and the unuttered words slowly coming to life in his mind. She had to drink….she had to…
"I can't." She tells him knowing she would have to give the reason why truthfully. He deserved it. Her eyelashes briefly close and her chest finally moves in the one single inhale and subsequent exhale he had been waiting for all this time; a tiny sigh passing her full lips.
"You will do as I say." The tone of his voice lowers and the words no longer come as a simple request, but an outright demand with emphasis on that one particular word. The act prompts the hound to tense and stop pacing and his chest to rumble with a low growl in warning. The hound was indeed protective of his mistress as concluded. However, his warning is more than ignored by the prince. He trusted her now and that wasn't about to waver because of one irritated, overgrown puppy. Sp he moves to grab the cup from atop the table with his right hand and present it with an expression that left no room for arguments.
He makes sure she holds the cup in her own hands before he peals back the hem of his sleeve over his right wrist exposing it and the white bandage wrapped around it underneath, a bandaged partially smeared in blood over his pulse point. And that could mean only one thing: the blood in the glass was his and it was fresh and it was warm. She'd been so caught up in the fact that he was offering her blood, whether it was his or not at this point, that she missed the unique aroma his blood alone held for those first few seconds. And when it finally did register, the scent in question easily filled her lungs to the brink long before while gaze lowered to the bleeding bandage marred with fresh and warm crimson. He was indeed offering it to her of his own free will.
"I don't want it." And still she refuses. She had to. No matter how badly she wanted to quench her thirst and drown in his scent. Her entire expression saddens and the look in her eyes almost makes him drop the subject, almost.
And so he smiles. For the briefest of seconds his lips curl upward in a genuine smile before reverting back to his normal and stoic expression. Had he planed the entire thing as a test of trust in nothing more than a spur of the moment and things could not have turned out better. There is no deceit or falseness in her reply, but genuine regret and restraint. He can see her fangs already peering from between her pink lips without her consent and he can the see the hunger in her tired, crimson eyes as the pupils dilate in response to the scent of the most tempting offer. She was so very hungry. Hungry and trapped in a room with the loud sound of his heartbeat pounding against her eardrums calling, taunting, warm… close.
"Drink..." The devil's offer is hard to resist, the words dipped in honey and silkily spoken by an experienced viper's tongue.
"Please." She pleads looking up at him with such beautiful and expressive eyes. And though she's pleading he finds no fault in her gesture and the usual sense of disgust eludes him. He offers nothing in return and merely brings his own left hand up to the cup encircling her fingers with his own. Why not drink? It made no sense, when the hunger in her crimson eyes was so great and spoke so loudly. When he saw her struggle with that girl? Yet as he looked closer, he slowly saw logic within the madness. She was refusing….as he had once refused…..and it was her decision to make no matter the consequences.
"So you wish to die instead?" he asks her directly hitting the nail on the coffin though his tone became more gentle and patient. He would not get another chance to breech this sort of subject with the same easiness and comfort he now felt. He wanted to know, he genuinely wanted to know. "That would be disappointing Childe. Have you learned nothing in all these years?" he momentarily teases her with a smirk using her own words against him while briefly tilting his head to the left towards her.
"I already did." She tells him meeting his gaze. And when done she smiles offering a genuine weak smile. "I had peace and quite, if only briefly."
The prince nods encouraging her to speak further assuring her he was listening, his hand holding hers tight over the cup. "Then things changed. And the silence was gone. Death is not always the mercy and peace one seeks in life."
It was a more than obvious answer and when she smiles a second time he knows she doesn't have to go in any more detail for him to understand. The fire, he had seen her die consumed by those very flames that night. Their last night together as Edirne burned to the ground.
The fire…" he whispers ready to say more had she not weakly smiled mouthing a silent 'no' while looking up and away from him for a mere second. She couldn't tell him 'by your hand' and by a different form of fire: a shot through the heat and a voice mockingly asking if she were a virgin. All the while smiling that grin she grew to love.
Flashback
"Police girl…" the man's deep baritone voice was now more rich and alluring now that she was dying than it had been the first time she'd heard it not a minute ago. It called to her like a siren dragging her victims to the depths of the ocean. "Tonight is truly," Her reflection flashed for a moment in the orange tint of his glasses as he fixed his gaze more firmly on the virgin canvas fate had brought before his unworthy feet. "A beautiful night." His fangs shone more clearly as he grins with even more satisfaction.
Flashback end
The admittance captures his attention and his right eyebrow rises in question, the slight confusion in his otherwise serious expression endearing if only briefly.
"You've forgotten." She gingerly whispers taking in a deep reassuring breath. "Some of the things I said while teaching you. It took a monster to show me mercy in death. However much a game and whim it was to begin with."
"Tell me how you died." He finally found the time to ask that. He desired to know and more than anything he found himself wanting to know why she kept calling him master with an ease that made it sound unnatural. All he knew of the word 'master' was a hidden form of distain carefully hidden beneath false statements of alleged loyalty. That was all, until the day she changed it. "Who made you?" the tone of his voice calm and patient betraying genuine interest in what she had to say.
/You.../ her mind desperately wished to tell him all the while imagining what else she could say to him. Freeing her right arm she reaches up to his face where her fingers brush the raven tips of his bangs from his eyes and forehead and then move to gently caress his right cheek. But she couldn't. She was bound to keep her word and that memory wasn't something she could share that easily. It takes her a little to utter her next words and when it happens they don't do anything to ease the discomfort of not yet knowing the truth and whether or not she would ever comfy in that kind of secret.
"Master died a human betrayed and buried." Seras's gaze drops back to the glass containing fresh blood before she slowly frees it and her left hand form his grasp. "He wasn't born as most vampires are and h…"
"Born?" Vlad interrupts her unconsciously lowering the tone of his already deep voice at the implication of her poorly chosen words.
"Not like that." She smiles, lips gently curling upward while looking towards him once again and trailing her right index finger along the edge of the glass in a slow and circular motion. "All vampires are human to begin with, but we are made by the vampires that came before us. We are born though the bite of our masters and the sharing of our blood. To be turned that person must be pure and untouched."
"And if not?" he asks already anticipating her answer.
"You turn into a mindless ghoul. They are true undead as you know them, as you read in that book of yours. Ghouls hold no reason or will other than that of their masters wishes. They are mostly what humans mistake vampires to be. Corpses freshly risen from their graves. They die with the sun, the cross and silver. They die by cutting off the head or piercing the heart."
"I see." He whispers with the knowledge that he too had first thought that of her upon their first meeting. Silence briefly falls between them as the prince contemplates his next question with care. Silver, the cross and fire, all these things could bring about her death and yet she shaded them without restraint or fear of having them been used against her. She even forced a blade into her own heart to prove it. "Show me."
"I can't. It's not for you to see." One of many.
"Why?" his eyes narrow though his tone of voice remains mainly peaceful. His curiosity growing more and more. The sun hadn't hurt her. Why? He desperately needed to know.
/Because he is you. Because I would have to show you your own death./
More words she could not openly tell him without the possibly of dire consequences in the long run.
"It wouldn't mean anything to you. How some human met his end at another's hand or became undead. It doesn't really matter. None of it does."
"They why does he stand out from the rest?" his question catches her off guard as he shrewdly uses her own words against her. His thin lips hold a playful and mocking grin at having caught her exactly where he wanted her. "What things did this other master have you do?"
"There are things I should not tell you no matter what."
"Yet you could." Again, he was twisting everything she said with such cunning ease.
"If I did that, what good would it do?" What good would it do to him more specifically?
"I would know where you stand." He tells her in a far softer tone than before as his blue eyes betray a single second of true vulnerability and desire to get close. And closer still.
"I stand where you see me."
"I am not your master Childe." The words have al almost ripple effect immediately upon speaking.
I am not your master. Words whispered by the young teen as well along with the irrevocable resemblance to the shadow of the boy she could see hidden within his mature features.
"Not really, no." Seras offers a painful smile agreeing with him wholeheartedly. And it hurt to properly acknowledge it. They were all just broken pieces of a once stable whole.
"Then why do your eyes betray sadness in such a reply?"
"Because the truth will help neither you or me. You may ask me all you like, but I will not answer." She sighs heavily knowing she had too much said already. "I am bound by blood t…"
"To a promise made." The prince shuts his eyes almost growling as the words come out, clenching his hands into tights fists for a moment in sheer reflex. He turns his head from her and in doing so several long strands of his long raven hair flow down his left shoulder like a shawl contrasting the white undershirt he wore. He remembered those words all too well. They had been, at the time, the tipping point of their relation. A promise made, but not made to me. Anger rose within him though it had no cause to do so. Why did a measly promise matter so much? Worse, why did it still bother him so much after so long a time? Just because the promise was made to someone other than himself. He was acting beyond foolish.
"Was I too make you a promise such as that you would wish me to keep it." Her voice has an immediate calming effect and the tension in his shoulders fades listening to reason. He would indeed expect a promise to be kept as though it were a sacred vow. So he slowly turns his head back to her peering from under the tips of his bangs as her words continue to appease the sudden anger he couldn't quite explain. Why had she such a distracting effect on him? First anger, the jealousy, and anger all over again only to be chilled with kind words." And were I to make you a promise I would indeed keep it as I keep this one." Amongst all these emotions the on he mostly felt cautioned about was the deeply rutted sense of peace she instilled within him without having to try. One look was enough. And if she ever came so close as to briefly touch his arm or grab his sleeve in that utterly innocent manner he had recently discovered while confined to his bed, he easily felt the entire weight of the world melt right off his shoulders as though it were nothing at all.
"What is your name Childe?" he finds himself asking with a longing he's not had in years. The same kind of longing a child possessed while eagerly waiting to open a most expected present. His tone was soft and eager, yet nervous at the same time. There was hesitance he no longer felt the need to hide or justify in her presence. Would she ever tell him? "Tell me, for I once knew your name."
"Childe will do." Seras whispers in return meeting his gaze, her own eyes softening in a bittersweet emotion. 'Childe' will forever do.
Never tell me Seras.
She won't.
"Why?" Somehow, it was becoming increasingly hard to accept the things she wasn't going to tell him.
"Why offer me blood?" damn her questions and damned the way she was looking at him: with such…affection…hidden behind those half lidded eyelids and long lashes.
"Because I am your master now." He tells her briefly gesturing with his right hand towards the goblet in hers. "And we once had a deal, you and I. You belong to me."
"We did." Seras replies in an equally soft manner. The statement held incredible power and would hold so much more the moment he finally acknowledged it as a true fact. He didn't need to have her pledge allegiance to him. She was already willingly accepting his rule as it were.
Very fascinating indeed, this little girl who held so many surprises.
"Then drink." The sound of his deep voice offers no margin for disobedience any longer. At the same time he brings his left hand back to the blood filled cup and gently pushes it towards her face with his index finger. "And do as I say."
It turned into a battle of wills as the two stared each other down unwilling to surrender.
"It might be poison." She challenges, defiance rising to the surface in blood red shade of her irises.
"All things could."
"As you wish then." He couldn't help but wonder if surrender had ever sounded this good throughout his life. If it had ever been spoken out loud with such ease and trust?
Blood was heavenly… but she only took a small portion testing the waters first. The taste was good and the liquid warm, but it wasn't truly her master's blood. Something was missing…one small defining quality that made her master her master. It wasn't the blood, the power, the mortal or immortal quality…just one little thing that made it unique. Just one little fragment missing that would have made it whole. It just wasn't the same. Not quite, though tantalizingly close.
Pulling the glass from her lips she sighs softly, the sound barely audible, and makes an effort to push herself up into a sitting position beside her master; her knees going up towards her chest to offer the glass much needed support as she let it rest there whilst still holding it between her hands and leaning her back against the headboard much like he did. One single taste had her fangs grow to full length in singular anticipation of the feast yet to come. And she was so utterly hungry….starved…it would not be enough.
Her head drops a little and her eyes take on a distant look as she gazes deeply into the remains of the small pool of perfect crimson liquid securely held within her hands. "A vampire master may be no different than a human master. The one who made me was kind, but I was among the very few who saw it and the only one he allowed himself to be so with. He was a vampire of the old world. He saw things differently than the rest of the humans around us. People didn't quite understand and those who might have once no longer stood by his side. Master was lonely." And always alone.
"What is the old world Childe?"
"He was born…" Seras stops herself before giving way too much information. "I'm sorry, but I can't tell you that." She offers him a kind smile. "He's centuries older than me, that I can say. And everything he saw and lived was different that what I grew up with."
"I see." The prince tells her, despite not being fully satisfied with her answer.
"Actually, you're just humoring me." The smile didn't yet fade as she lightly tilted her head to the side catching his bluff. "You don't really like my answer. You wish to know so much more than I'm willing to part with."
"Then show me the rest." She hadn't expected him to say anything else on that particular subject much less wish to know more. Of all the things that made up her master: private and silent, always keeping to himself never revealing any secret. Always watching and waiting, seeing though you with the same ease one would do regarding a mere blank sheet of paper.
"One day." She doesn't yet raise her head to meet his eyes and gently increases the hold on her cup, her lips still tainted red from just taking a sip. "There is much to say. Blood is life. The currency of the soul and the medium through which life can be transferred from one person to another. To drink blood is to take the essence of a soul into yourself." And when she does find the strength to look him in the eyes, she keeps her voice down and her tone low. "And you freely gave me your blood. Do you understand the full ramifications of that?"
She never expected him to laugh. Of all things her admission could have brought to the surface laughing wasn't one of them. The prince laughs without restraint. His head tilting back against the headboard, the tone of his voice darkening in amusement he made no move to hide while chuckling unable to hide the grin from appearing on his lips and the delight shining within his ocean blue eyes. The sound was heavy reverberating of the nearby walls like a wild tidal wave crashing against sheer bedrock.
There is a second where, amongst the sheer madness of his enjoinment, she captures a glance of genuine laughter born of pure amusement and she has to admit his features never looked more beautiful. It is the first time ever seeing the older version of the young prince actually smile this way with such freedom. And as such she stays quite and waits for any sign that he wished to say something, but all that greets her is silence once the beautiful sound ends. He is surprisingly quite and his eyes betray nothing as he holds her gaze with a patience one wouldn't expect in such a situation. There is a sudden tension between them that only hints at something more hidden beneath the surface layer and Seras suddenly feels utterly exposed as though recently awaken and scared in an unfamiliar place surrounded by people she didn't know, people hunting her down and wishing for her. Then finally, his lips part and her eyes are immediately drawn to his mouth.
"And what have you seen little one?" the mere sound of those words sent chills down her spine. He grins and his lips curl upward in a more than familiar gesture. All that was missing was the jagged shape of his teeth and the glint of his fangs lengthening in amusement whenever he smiled this way. Those canines though were close enough and his expression mesmerizing.
"Whether I tell you or not makes no difference." Seras sketches a smile, content to having gotten it right. "Because whether you believe me or not is something you alone can justify. Besides, I already know about a lot whereas you still have a measure of reserve towards some of the things I've already shown you." once upon a time he'd told her a story knowing she'd have nothing more than his word as a guaranty. It was now time to do the same and take the risk and plunge head on into the dark abyss waiting her below.
His grin only grows at the statement delighted in how very perceptive she was. It was true, he had his doubts and she already saw his life. All the pitiful moment of his rather pathetic existence. The worst possible moments of his life and so very few of the good. But who wouldn't be skeptical in such a unique turn of events? Who would believe something as beautiful as this creature to be a bloodthirsty and ruthless monster? A vampire. An abomination upon this earth and creature fallen from grace shunned by God from his paradise, cursed to a life of sin for sins committed in life. Who would believe her powers to be true and something more than mere witchcraft? All these things as something other than under God.
"Drink." He whispers almost urgently while leaning forward a bit more and pushing the cup in her hands towards her, his long and elegant fingers curling around her smaller hands purposely and distractingly. And Seras blushes, her cheeks tainting pink the closer he gets. A little more and she would feel the warmth of his breath upon her face. His eyes, if only they were red…
"And see what else I may offer you vampire." The tone within his baritone voice lowers to a husky and tempting whisper sending yet another thrill of excitement down her spine.
The crimson of her irises turns darker as a reply accepting the challenge becoming more vibrant the closer he leaned over her. She whispers the words in a way that involuntary forces his gaze to lower onto her lips. "When we die the pain is swift, brutal and... agonizingly slow." She doesn't flinch when his right arm comes up and his fingers entangle themselves in the loose yellow strands cascading down her right shoulder or when they move closer still and his thumb traces her cheekbone.
"Then drink…" Her eyes mimic his by falling on his lips again, but quickly rise when his right hand settles fully over her right cheek in a ghostly, feather like touch briefly tilting her chin up before pulling away in silence. He was too close now, far too close. Strands of his raven bangs touch gold and his breath was warm and his lips too close for comfort. Just a little more…and they would….would…
He leans in almost close enough to brush the tip of his nose against hers, the first time in 15 years when he initiates contact first. His eyes were the most intense she had ever seen so far, the young boy included, and for a moment she couldn't help but notice the powerful resemblance. His breath warmed her face though his lips never made a sound.
The thought was brief as it flashed through her mind. Why was the man so different from the boy? She loved the boy. But the boy was gone. She adored her master, but he was a ghost now. All that remained was something else, something more. And he was standing right here in front of her.
"Why touch me?" Seras breathes and the sound of her voice comes out as a beautiful sigh, the pink in her cheeks darkening if only just. "You've always hated it telling me to get off." What good are you dead while giving into your desires?
"What is there to fear of a little girl?"
"Everything." Seras parts her lips revealing her pearl white fangs as they flash with a speak of light from a nearby candle, uncurling fully from under her full upper lip still marred red in his blood. Her eyes dare him and the seductive curl of her lips invites him in and it takes of all his will power to pull back into safety and put a respectable distance between them. Still their breaths mingled and their eyes never loose focus on another. She loved the boy, but he was gone.
He now stood the man before her.
"Fear doesn't become me." His tone echoes deeply in the silence of the room, dark and deadly. The glass is gently pried out of her grasp and brought over the edge of the bed and emptied without a word spilling all the rich crimson she had yet to drink onto the floor and carpet below like a swift and unjust punishment. The glass shatters a moment later echoing so much louder than his words had; the grin on his face wielding more power over her than the sudden sound. His blue eyes were daring her to prove his beliefs wrong. And as his injured right wrist came up between them, the stained bandage standing out between them like a sore thumb, he offered her the very means through which to prove him wrong. It was a dangerous game and he was leaping head on into the death's embrace by offering his blood directly from the source to a starving vampire. She was toying with his mind. The mere manner in which she spoke and looked at him intrigued him. There was a familiarity between them he could not overlook give their history together and surprisingly, neither did he want to. Not any more. He'd already wasted so much time with petty nonsense, ideals and morals that held no bearing when dealing with a creature such as her. He was, dare one say it, so incredibly comfortable with her around him. And it was thrilling and exhilarating at the same time. A high he has not properly experienced these long 15 years. So he offered her the chance to feed to see just what she would do next. To see whether it would feel the same for him as it did that girl.
"What will you have me offer in return?" Seras asks of him proving herself to be the challenge he was expecting her to rise up to. The scent of his blood filled her nostrils form the very moment he'd offered her his blood. The glass had been full, but the blood luck warm from having cooled over time. This time it would be fresh. It would be hot not warm. And it would be heaven.
"Faith." Loyalty. He replies as her right hand takes hold of his wounded wrist and her fingers curl around his wound. She pulls on his arm until the back of his hand brushed the side of her right knees and holds the wrist face up peeling back the white fabric of his sleeve with her left hand exposing the bandage that wrapped a little more of his arm than just his wrist. Her fingers undue the bandage with ease, with slow and tender movement exposing the few cm long red and fresh cut running vertically down the length of his wrist towards the beginning of his forearm. The tips of her fingers then trace a careful path over the cut while the right hand trails up a little more over his open palm and long fingers.
"To you or a ghost?" her daring question should have upset him, but his sole reply is to tilt his head to the left and offer that beautiful grin of his.
.
She loved the boy, but he was gone.
.
He stands the man before her. But he will never know.
.
.
His blood was heaven.
And the deal once struck finally came to an end.
To be continued…
