Blood Blini (by North)
What you need:
4 raw eggs
6 hard boiled eggs
1 1/2 cups of milk
1 cup of water
6 Tablespoons of melted butter
2 cups flour
4 cups of pork blood, congealed
1/2 Tablespoon of butter
1 minced onion
1/4 cup broth
2 Tablespoon of Olive oil
1/2 Teaspoon of salt
How to Prepare:
1)In mixing bowl, add eggs, milk, butter, salt and flour. Mix until well combined. This is the batter for the blini.
2)On a nonstick frying pan, spread a thin layer of olive oil.
3)With a ladle, pour batter until spread evenly and thinly over the surface of the pan.
4)Cook until golden brown. Flip over and cook for a twenty seconds. Remove quickly.
5)Repeat until all batter is used up.
6)For the blood filling, process the congealed pork blood in a processor until minced pieces of blood are formed.
7)To clean frying pan, add minced onion over oil. Fry until translucent.
8)In a separate mixing bowl, add cooked onions, shredded hard boil eggs, blood and broth. Mix till well combined.
9)Add blood mix to the crepe sheet, and roll up.
10) Repeat for rest of the crepe sheets.
11)In clean frying pan, add a thin layer of olive oil again. Place rolls on the pan and heat for 30 seconds. Flip over rolls to cook the other side.
12) Serve with cold sour cream or jam.
~~~0~~~
"Jack? The Guardians?"
The young man nodded.
She blinked, shaking her head. "Well, first off, he's not my boyfriend."
Hans rolled his eyes, muttering something in a language she didn't understand, before continuing on, "Well, Jack Guardian is certainly one of the vampires that I've been looking for."
"You must be mistaken." Elsa shook her head. She thought of the white-haired boy – his awkward manners, his love for mischief, his sweet sincerity. She couldn't compare him to the dark shadow that haunted her nightmares. "What evidence do you have?"
"Maybe you should tell me the evidence," the redhead murmured, choosing at that moment to adjust the cuffs of his sleeve. When she shot him a quizzical expression, he elaborated, "Have you ever witnessed him drink blood?"
"No," she denied scornfully, then paused. "Well, I've seen him eat it. But that was just once." Pause. "Twice." Pause. "A few times." Pause. "So what if he likes the taste of blood? Plenty of cultures over the world eat animal blood. It's a delicacy."
"Whatever you say." Hans sounded skeptical as he went on to the next question. "Does he avoid sunlight?"
"That means nothing." She snorted. "Even I hate the sun. I don't understand people who like the beach! What's wrong with them?"
"Have you seen him react adversely to garlic?"
"He's just allergic!" The blonde girl threw her hands up in the air. "There's nothing evil about being allergic!"
"So at that time when he had an 'allergy attack', you took him to a hospital? Or a clinic?" was Hans' innocent question.
"No…" Elsa said slowly. "He was taken home. But-" she hastily put in when she saw the young man's triumphant expression "-that could have just been because he had medication at home. That's all."
"Have you ever seen him in the mirror?"
She peered curiously at him. "I beg your pardon?"
"Have you ever seen him in a mirror?" he repeated, getting a little impatient. "Vampires don't have reflections."
It took her a while to absorb this bizarre conception. No reflections? Surely in all their time together, she would have noticed if Jack didn't have a reflection, wouldn't she? Mirrors were fairly common place. Then again, when she was with him, her eyes were not exactly on her surroundings.
"Look, I can't stay here all day," Hans said, rising to his feet. "I'm sure the Guardians are already trying to track me down. To shut me up, if not to get revenge. Vampires are a spiteful lot." He let out a sniff as he straightened out his coat. Assessing the young girl slumped against the bench, he sighed. "The truth is, Elsa, I don't think I can capture the Guardians on my own. I need your help."
"I don't understand." And she certainly didn't. She had met most of Jack's family. They were a bit odd, sure, but they were all very polite and kind. Even Jack's elder brother, who was the gruffest of them, was nothing but a gentleman to her. She couldn't imagine any of them attacking Anna. "Why do you have to capture them in the first place?"
"Because they are a threat to human society, Elsa." She registered in the corner of vision him crouching down next to her, his deep green eyes gazing at her with such a regretful resolve that she couldn't doubt his earnestness. This was not some malicious scheme of bloodlust, but a genuine desire to do what was right. She couldn't help but admire that. "I'm not calling you to be a hero, but I want you to understand. The Guardians may seem like nice people now, your boyfriend especially-"
"Not my boyfriend," she corrected. A bitter of her noted that she just a day ago, she wouldn't have minded if the title were true.
"-but it's all just a trick to make you trust them. Don't, Elsa. For goodness' sake." He took one of her gloved hands in his own, making her lift her head in surprise. On her palm, he deposited a gleaming metal ring. "This is made of pure silver. It burns the skin of vampires. I know you don't believe me, so go and test it yourself. For your sister's sake, and your own-" he closed her hand over the metal ornament "-do be careful."
He let go of her hand then, straightening himself back up and granted her a grim smile. "Contact me when you change your mind."
Bowing slightly, he turned on his heel and marched his way out of the gallery. As he did, he halted briefly to look at the 'Portrait of an Ugly Aristocrat'. "That fellow is truly ugly, isn't he?" he remarked with a chortle.
Not waiting for a response, Hans continued his stroll down the gallery and eventually disappeared from view, leaving the girl cradling the silver ring and pondering over all that had been said.
On one hand, it was ridiculous. Jack couldn't possibly be…some weird creature of myth, nor the Guardians. This whole notion was way too unbelievable. However, if this were true, well, it would perfect sense. His reluctance to commit; his avoidance of her questions; the objections of his family. If it was true that the Guardians were secretly a ring of homicidal blood-drinkers, the last thing they would want was their youngest member to be consorting with their victims.
If any of this was really true.
"Oh, Jack," she murmured to herself, pressing the ring between her thumb and her forefinger. She wished that instead of Hans, it was really the white-haired boy who met her this afternoon. She would have much rather had heard the truth from him – whether it'd be Hans' peculiar story, or some other tragic drama tale, or anything. As long as he could honest with her, she would try, at the very least, to understand him.
If he couldn't trust her, how could she trust him?
~~~0~~~
Tandoori Blood Tikka (by Tooth)
What You Need:
400g of cubed Blood Tofu
3 tablespoons of Vegetable Oil
4 tablespoon of Olive Oil
6 tablespoons of Fresh Lemon Juice
1 cup of Greek Yogurt
3 tablespoon of Fresh Onion Paste
1 tablespoon of Fresh Ginger Paste
1/2 tablespoon of Turmeric
1 tablespoon of Coriander Powder
1 tablespoon of Cumin Powder
1/4 tablespoon of Cinnamon Powder
1 tablespoon of Red Chili Powder
How to Prepare:
1) For marinade, add to a large bowl: Greek Yogurt, Olive Oil, Fresh Onion Paste, Fresh Ginger Paste and 4 tablespoon of Lemon Juice. Mix till smooth.
2) Add all powdered spices. Mix evenly.
3) Add Blood Tofu cbues into bowl. Ensure that all the cubes are evenly covered by the marinade.
4) Cover the bowl and refrigerate overnight.
5) Preheat oven.
6) Prepare a tray by lining it with vegetable oil. Spread marinated tofu cubes over it evenly.
7) Bake until tofu is evenly cooked. Stop halfway to turn pieces over if needed.
8) Serve with mint yogurt sauce over basmati rice.
~~~0~~~
"A brand new century, and the world looks exactly the same as yesterday."
"Aye, it does," his companion agreed. They were seated on the porch of the wooden cottage, gazing at the starry expanse above and the shadow-filled grasslands. The humid winds rolled over their skins, with crickets chirping in harmony to the rustling plants.
"Well, it's a new beginning, nonetheless," the young woman amongst them handed them steaming cups of tea, smiling sweetly. "Perhaps now with the fighting over, we might look forward to better things." At a distance, they could hear singing coming from the settlement, where British soldiers attempted 'Auld Lang Syne' in drunken, off-pitch baritones. Raising her own filled cup like a toast, she said, "To the eighteen-hundreds, that it might be a better century for us all."
"To the eighteen-hundreds," echoed her companions joyously, before they downed their cups.
North had acquired the tea off a boat from Canton. It was quite popular amongst the wealthier officers in the East India Company, especially on cool, leisurely nights like this one. It was commodity to be savored, but Jack still grimaced as he swallowed the hot liquid. Till this day, he had yet to be accustomed to taste of the Orient.
Or, perhaps, it would be more accurate to say that he was still not used to the taste of human beverages, and likewise their food.
"Are you alright, Jack?" the Russian man by his side asked. He must have noted the grimace on Jack's face. "Does the tea not suit your taste?"
"I'm afraid I do not quite possess a liking for Chinese tea," he said, forcing a smile on his face as he lowered the cup back to its saucer. "It's far too weak for my taste." Drinking this was pointless. It provided no nourishment, nor did it quench his thirst. He was tired of all this, but he did not say so.
"Well, I have to concede with Jack on this one," the young woman agreed with a measure of pride, though she did take another sip. "There's nothing that quite compares to a strong cup of the brew from Assam."
If any Englishman were to hear her speak, they would rub their eyes and gawk at her in surprise. For Tooth - as she begged her companions to call her since her real name was far too long – could speak as any English lady. Though she still chose to garb the traditional sari of her kinswoman, she also carried herself with a gentility and grace that would have easily contested that of the governor's wife.
She had educated herself, North had told Jack once, in the ways of westerners so that she could learn from
them. She especially enjoyed in devouring texts of science that missionaries had carried from across the sea. If it wasn't for the colour of her skin and her being a woman, North was convinced she would have headed for Europe and climbed the ranks of academia long ago.
Besides her curious diet, of course.
North had met her through a mutual friend, but who that mutual friend was, Jack didn't know. "You will meet him someday," was all the Russian had told him, a twinkle in his eye. The white-haired boy had no idea who this friend was, but with the way Tooth and North spoke of him, he seemed to be quite remarkable.
Kicking against the wooden boards of the porch, Jack rose to his feet. "I think I want to go for a walk."
"At this time of the night?" North raised a bushy brow at him.
"Most of the shops in town would be closed now," Tooth piped in, lifting the metal pot to refill North's cup. "The streets would only be filled with soldiers and lascars. It'd be quite rowdy down there."
Jack smiled slightly as he noted the concern in her tone. In the thirty years that North and himself had stayed with her, he had discovered her to be quite a motherly woman. He had never been fussed over as much as he had been in her presence. He didn't really mind it – it was nice to be cared for - but sometimes he wondered if she forgot that he wasn't a child. He hadn't been since the death of his birth mother, when he had started to make a living for his sister and himself. But Tooth did not know this. She could not be blamed for ignorance – he'd never told her.
"I'll be fine," Jack assured her. She sighed, but spoke no objection, merely returning back inside the house to refill the pot.
As the white-haired boy descended the steps of the porch, he heard North call out, "Jack."
He slowed his pace, turning to face the large man. His expression was questioning.
The Russian sipped from his cup, swallowed, then said in full seriousness, "If anyone bleeds, run."
"Yes, sir."
North grunted. "Have a good walk."
Jack nodded, returning to his stroll down the dirt path.
The cottage that Tooth had built was quite some distance from the capital, but a vampire could move more quickly than human. So within minutes, the boy found his feet stepping on flattened dirt ground, flanked by the painted plaster buildings. As Tooth had guessed, the shops were all closed and the docks were quiet. Most of the streets were dark, with the only light coming from the moon above and blazing fire pits around the city. A couple of soldiers were seen patrolling the streets, but they were in a jovial mood and appeared slightly inebriated. As he passed them, Jack wrinkled in his nose. Undoubtedly, someone had been drinking on the job.
He continued his aimless way down the streets, not quite sure what he was looking for. Well, he did know what he was looking for, but he had no intention of doing anything about it. In the time that he had spent with North, and now Tooth, he had ceased to drink the human blood, exchanging it for the blood of animals instead. The Indian woman had found a sustainable way to do so by draining just a bit of blood from her sheep each time, before letting them heal. While those sheep healed, she drew blood from another set of sheep, and so forth.
Blood from these animals was what she served them and most of the time, it was enough to fill their stomachs. In between feeding times, they occupy their fangs by chewing on human foods, like nuts, fruits and even meat. Their thirst was plugged by human drink, like water and tea. This routine seemed to satisfy his two companions, but if Jack were to be honest, he came away each day full but never sated.
He had never quite adapted to the taste of animal blood. For some reason, it never smelled as sweet as that from humans, nor was it as hot and fresh. All the human foods that Tooth prepared for them did not appeal to him as much as it did when he was still living. He still ate them, knowing that ceasing to do so would ignite worry in his companions' hearts, but in truth, the sweet fruits tasted of paper and the toasted meats of ash. He had been suppressing the dissatisfaction the best he could, trying to convince himself to savour the textures and the sensations, but his body would not cooperate. Against his own will, he found his thoughts drifting back to the time when he had not known about drinking animal blood, back when he had allowed himself to believe that he had no choice other than to consume the blood of humans. His conscience had been wrought then, but at least he believed that he was had no choice. At least his thirst had been quenched.
When he descended down to the near empty docks, the white-haired boy found himself passing a seedy boat house. There was no door – probably worn away by the water long ago – and he heard the sailors in there growling to each other in drawled Cantonese. He could see at least twenty of them, crowded in the small structure, sprawled on their mats and smoking their pipes, puffing themselves into oblivion. They did not notice his presence, and certainly did not notice how he shuddered and hurried away.
Back before he had turned, drunkenness and intoxication was not foreign to him, nor was gambling and other all-consuming vices. His mother had warned him against them, pointing him to the Good Book instead. While he never became as pious as she wanted him to be, Jack had kept her lessons close to his heart. The more he saw of the world, however, the more difficult it was to remember. His reality had been altered over and over. Things that he had taken for granted had been disproven and possibilities that he had never considered were now commonplace.
As the white-haired lad gazed out to the docked ships bobbing over the night tide, the salty breeze running through hair, he suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of confusion and fear. When he had boarded the ship to Calcutta with North, his only goal was to leave England, to prevent himself from ever harming his sister or her family. Now here he was thirty years later, still in Calcutta, having witnessed wars between his fellow Englishmen and the natives of the land, having watched the Company grow in influence and power, having seen more anxious and broken expressions than he'd ever wanted to, and still he had no idea what he was doing with his undead existence.
Jack let out a harsh exhale as it hit him. In four years' time, he would be exactly one hundred years old. His mother was dead. His sister was probably dead too. Maybe his niece and nephews were also dead.
And here he was, trapped between suffering, self-loathing and an immortality that he had never asked for.
He felt like throwing up.
"Are you alright?"
Jack swung around, thinking that the one who had spoken would be might be a dock officer, or one of the patrolling guards. But instead, it was a thin, polished man in a distinguished black overcoat. By his fashion and his accent, Jack wasn't sure if he was English. He didn't sound French or Spanish though, so he had no idea what his origin might be.
"Forgive me if I had interrupted your reverie," the courteous fellow apologized, dipping his hat as he did. He appeared to be in his mid-thirties, with black hair smoothed back and a sharp, angular jaw. For his age, he could have been considered distinguished-looking. Handsome, even. "But you seem unwell. Perhaps it is the smoke?" He waved his cane toward the fuming boat house where the sailor were.
Not knowing how to explain his predicament to this stranger, nor desiring to do so in anyway, Jack nodded.
"Opium. What a ghastly creation," the distinguished fellow said with a contemptuous snort. "As if mankind doesn't have enough revolting vices to indulge in."
Though he couldn't bring himself to speak, the lad found himself agreeing with the statement. He had been disgusted when he had heard that the East India Company began a forceful cultivation of poppy crops in the region, smuggling the processed plants to Canton whether they reaped massive profits. However, a terrible famine had struck the region as a result, with millions starving to death due to the lack of crops. 'Such a waste of life,' North had said regretfully, while Tooth had seethed in silence.
"Maybe we should put some distance between ourselves and that house of hell," the gentlemanly stranger suggested. With his ebony cane, he pointed down the length dock platform as a form of invitation.
Checking himself, Jack decided that he was still full, though not satisfied, from dinner. There was no harm in having some company.
So the two strolled down the harbor, away from the opium den, allowing their nostrils to be filled only with the scent of seawater. As their boots crossed the wooden planks, Jack noted how his companion gazed frequently towards the town, then to the harbor, then back again, as one who soaking in the sights. "Is this your first time in Calcutta?"
"No, actually, but it's been a while since my last visit." His companion paused a short while to examine a schooner docked nearby. "So much has changed."
"Yes." Jack agreed. "This is after all the era of progress."
He heard his companion huff at that. "So they say."
The white-haired boy turned towards him. "You do not agree?"
"Mankind does not progress," sneered the distinguished gentleman. "They may use rifles instead of swords, and cannons instead of trebuchets, but they still continue to wrangle like mindless beasts as their ancestors did. Have you heard of what happened in Mysore?"
Jack nodded with much reluctance. When the word had swept over the town, there had been drinking and celebration amongst the British officers. In their eyes, they had squashed an insurgent foe and secured a profitable venture. However, Tooth had been morose. She herself was not from Mysore, but she felt strongly for the people who had resisted the influence of the East India Company, and who now paid the price for losing. The affair between Mysore and the Company had been a gory line of wars and the only good thing about it was that it was now over.
"Such a waste of young blood," lamented his companion, pressing his cane firmly on the ground for emphasis. "Mankind, it seems, is forever doomed to be a slave to its appetite, be it for opium or control."
"True." While his companion's words made sense, Jack couldn't help but feel a little uneasy about it. It wasn't as if he had never contemplated such on his own, but hearing them spoke so carelessly made it sound much worse. "But perhaps we are too harsh in our judgment. After all, aren't we slaves to our own appetite?"
His companion quirked a brow at him, before letting out a chuckle. "Oh, but my dear boy, we are very much above them. We deserve the privilege of indulgence. They do not."
He was taken aback by the familiarity of the stranger, and confused too. "What do you mean, sir?"
It was then his courteous, but scornful, companion ceased his steps. Jack halted then too, studying the man standing across him with greater care than before. He felt as if there was something he ought to know about this man, something he ought to recognize …
"You must be quite new to this-" an odd smile appeared on the pale gentleman's thin face "-if you had not discerned the truth of my nature."
It was then Jack decided to use his ears properly and he realized what he had missed. "You…" his jaw fell open "…don't have a heartbeat."
"No, I do not." The toothy smile widened, revealing the sharpened fangs.
"You're a vampire."
"Yes, my dear boy. I am. Don't worry. I am not offended that you've not realized it immediately." He continued strolling forward, with Jack stumbling behind, still stunned. "In fact, I find your naiveté quite amusing."
"My naiveté?" Jack repeated.
"Your forgiving nature towards mankind. Your sympathy towards them." The snicker that emerged from his throat sent shivers down the boy's spine. "It's like pitying an ant before squashing it."
He had no idea how to respond to that.
"This has been a very enlightening conversation," his companion went on as they stepped off the dock platform. Tipping his hat at Jack as a form of farewell, he added, "I do hope we might meet again, my young kinsman. You strike me as one in need of-" a thin smile formed on his lips "-guidance."
With that, the man started down the dusty road at a leisurely pace, leaving Jack behind, more troubled and confused than before.
The next morning, a grim story arrived at Tooth's door. In a boathouse near the docks, a group of opium-users had been found lying dead, drenched in their own blood. Their throats had been ripped open, as if by claws, and faces had been frozen in fear.
"Werewolves?" was North's comment as they sat down to eat.
Tooth shook her head as she began to divide the portions into bowls. "There are no werewolves in Calcutta. Besides, wouldn't they have eaten the bodies too?"
Jack did not say anything throughout the whole breakfast.
~~~0~~~
"More coffee, sir?"
"Thank you."
His cup was refilled by the bumbling waitress who soon moved on to the next of the guest seated in the café. He raised it up, took one sniff, then subsequently emptied its contents into the potted plant nearby.
He had booked himself in one of the humble hotels that this miserable town had to offer. It was gloomy, a bit downtrodden, with light flickering and humming. But he didn't really mind all those features. In fact, he like the atmosphere, liked how the shadows played about the corners and chased away the light,
What he didn't like were the imbecilic humans that kept bothering him.
"Ooh, my! You really down your coffee fast." The stupid waitress was back again. If it wasn't for the two other guest who were also seated in the small café, he would have gutted her long ago. "Would you like more?"
"My good madam." He spun towards her, golden eyes flashing. "Would you kindly leave me alone?"
She staggered back, stunned by his change in behaviour.
"Flush that disgusting brew down the loo while you're at it," he added brusquely, flapping open the tabloid paper as he did.
The waitress was clearly offended, if her stomping away was anything to go by, but he had long given up on caring about humans and their opinions. He kept his focus on the tabloid that he picked off the reading rack, zooming in on the article that had caught his interest – 'DRACULA' AT LARGE: VICTIM AMNESIAC.'
An amused smile spread across his face as he scanned the article.
'According to extremely reliable sources, Anna Arendelle, victim of the so-called 'vampire' attack near her home along Fjord Avenue two night ago, is unable to remember her attacker's appearance. In fact, according to more accurate sources, it's been said that she has actually been drugged with a terrifying toxin that has been used in Cuban crime syndicates. Others have disputed that it was Chinese crime syndicates that used to this toxin, not Cubans. Both Chinese and Cubans in the community have been offended and said so.'
Ah, humans. He shook his head. Their love for dramatics was only matched by their incredible stupidity.
'Meanwhile, the town is on high alert. Police are still searching the town fervidly for the murderer at large. Schools vow to educate their students on safety guidelines with regards being out at night, though certain parent support groups have been pressing for education classes on the benefits of staying at home instead.'
'As for the young victim herself, she was in bright spirits when The Burgess DAILY visited her. "If anything, this experience shows how important that it is to have regular blood donors. I'd have bled to death otherwise!" she laughed.'
'Under the leadership of her sister, Anna and her schoolmates are running a blood donation drive at the Burgess High School gym this coming Wednesday. Members of the public above eighteen years of age are highly encouraged to come support this cause.'
A blood donation drive? He raised his brow as he folded the tabloid up. He had heard of such things before and he thought them preposterous. Asking people to willingly give up their blood to total strangers? What a dreadful waste of time and resources. They should just let the miscreant weaklings die off. It wasn't as if this world was exactly lacking in people.
Still he kept the date and location of the deice in mind. It might prove to be very, very useful.
~~~0~~~
"I asked them to put the donation time and place in the paper. Wasn't that just a stroke of genius?" Anna chuckled as she scrolled down the screen of her phone. "It's like a free advert."
Her sister didn't comment, continuing typing on her laptop. This kind of treatment wasn't particularly out of place. Elsa, after all, was very busy, especially with the blood donation drive coming up so soon. They had been pushing the date back over and over to get enough recruits. It had taken them so long, but everything was finally falling into place - the location, the funding, the people, the posters etc. Anna was pretty excited. Elsa was too, but her way of responding it was to worry herself into perfection. It was no small wonder that she was still stressed.
By how the other girl was slumped laziness back in her bed, it was obvious that Anna was the opposite of stressed. Her homework lay undone on the table. Thanks to her little 'vampire' incident, the doctor gave her day off from school tomorrow. So, in the spirit of procrastination, she decided to spend her time scrolling through her mobile feed instead. It was amusing to observe how her classmates and online friends strove to outdo each other in wishing her speedy recovery. She chuckled at the flurry of emojis that painted her feed pages and spent a good part of the hour sending 'thank you' messages to everyone.
Every now and then, however, she found herself switching back to check on her text inbox. Of all the people who had sent her things, she had expected Hans to be the first to send her a 'get-well-soon' text. But there was nothing. Nothing at all.
She frowned, before casting a glance towards her sister. Elsa was not looking her way, gaze still trained to her laptop screen. Anna then glanced back at her phone, where her messages to Hans had remained unanswered.
Over the last week of correspondence, she had been certain that she had a connection with the redhead young man, despite their obvious age gap. Her sister had not approved, but that was because Elsa was a prude. When it came to romance, her sister was as hapless as a child. When Hans had asked her out for Valentine's Day, Anna had accepted once she learned that Elsa too would be out on a date then (with Jack! They were like so ship-worthy! They should even have ship name!) It had been simple, just with dinner, playing a pranks on the horrid chef, going for a drive to the woods and watching the stars. But somehow, just doing it with him had felt perfect, because he was perfect.
So, how did she go from being on a perfect date to lying in a pool of blood to being absolutely … Hans-less?
Anna closed her eyes, trying to remember...
"It's been nice." She sighed with a hint of regret, but not too much. She couldn't regret spending time with him, but she did regret that the time was now over. "But Elsa will be back soon."
"I know. Yeah. Hey, there's-" he shuffled awkwardly against the dirt ground "-there's something I want to give you."
"Oh?" she smirked. A Valentine's Gift? What would it be? A hand-made card? A bouquet? Or…
"You have to close your eyes though." There's a mysterious expression on his face, a little smug, a little amused. "It's a surprise."
…a kiss?
Feigning reluctance, Anna sighed as she closed her eyes. "Alright."
"Oh, put your hands behind your back."
It's a kiss! It's definitely a kiss! She let out a huff of annoyance to hide her excitement, wrapping her arms behind her. "Fine."
And then -
That's where her memory stopped.
Maybe the whole date had just been a dream. Maybe Hans didn't exist and she made him up because she wanted some romance in her life.
She hadn't told the officer about this at all. How could she? Not with Elsa hovering all around. If her sister found out, Anna knew that she would hunt Hans down and rip him to pieces, no questions asked. She didn't want him to be suspected for the attack on her just because he was the last person she remembered prior to blacking out.
Because, well, Hans couldn't possibly be the 'Dracula' guy who attacked her. He loved her. He told her himself.
Then why wasn't he answering any of her messages? What happened between the time that he told her to close her eyes and the time that she collapsed in her own blood?
Wanting to distract herself from these worrisome questions, Anna called out to her sister, "Hey, you haven't told me how your date with Jack went."
Elsa didn't reply, continuing her typing.
"I know I kind of freaked you out." The girl combed the loose brown strands from her face, feeling slightly guilty. "And I'm sorry if I ruined the night for you guys. But, really - how did it go?"
All she heard for an answer was the tapping of keys against the board. "Not now, Anna."
It was then the brunette girl noticed a small ring sitting snuggly over Elsa's gloved middle right finger. She had never seen that before, so it must be new.
Sitting herself up, Anna pointed at the object in question, asking, "Did Jack give that to you?"
Elsa glanced briefly at the ring, before her eyes flitted back up to the screen. "No."
"Did you buy it for yourself?"
"No."
"So, it's a gift."
Tap-tap-tap. Elsa's finger shifted to the touchpad, making a 'click'. "In a way."
Anna's eyes narrowed, a rush of suspicion rising up her system. "Is it from another boy?"
It was there only for a fraction of a second, a flash of …guilt?, before her expression was neutral. "Don't be silly, Anna."
She was lying - straight out lying. Anna frowned. Elsa kept secrets, yes, but never lied.
Right?
Suddenly, she had a horrible feeling that Elsa might be the reason Hans hadn't been contacting her. The things was – was it just because Elsa didn't approve of him, or was there something else?
Something else that would cause her elder sister to stray from Jack?
With a great deal more seriousness, Anna repeated her earlier question. "How did your date with Jack go?"
Elsa's head jerked sharply towards her, eyes glittering with such ferocity that almost made Anna slip off her bed. Without even looking at it, the elder slammed her laptop shut, announcing, "I'm going to work in the dining room. Don't wait up."
No further explanations, no meaningful looks – she just departed the room, leaving the younger Arendelle alone. Anna curled herself up in a ball, perplexed and, if she dared to admit, more than a little hurt.
~~~0~~~
Lebkuchen, by Sandy
What you need:
1 cup of plain flour
1 tablespoon baking powder
1 cup of clear honey
2 tablespoon of ground ginger
1 tablespoon of ground cinnamon
6 tablespoons of ground almond
1 grated zest of a lemon
6 tablespoons of melted butter
1/2 cup of icing sugar
1 egg white, beaten
How to Prepare:
1) Preheat oven.
2) In a mixing bowl, add flour, baking powder, ground ginger, cinnamon and almond.
3) Add melted butter in with lemon zest. Mix well first with mixer, than with hands. Until well combine.
4) Rest for 30 minutes.
5) With the dough, roll small chunks into balls of 1 inch in radius. Do so until no more dough.
6) Place the balls of dough on a baking tray, lined with baking sheet. Ensure adequate room between them. Use two trays if required.
7) Put in oven and bake for 20 minutes. Adjust timing according to biscuit thickness.
8) Add icing sugar and egg white to new mixing bowl. Mix. Add water if required.
9) Remove biscuits from oven to cool.
10) Once cooled, dip top of each biscuit in icing. Leave to harden. Serve.
~~~0~~~
"Can I offer you some tea?"
"Does it have blood in it?"
She eyed him quizzically. "No."
"No thanks then."
The doctor shrugged, before pouring herself a cup. She set her mug on the glass table before returning to the kitchen with the kettle.
Evening had come and Dr. Fitzherbert's shift was over. Before he had reawaken for the second time, Merida had already left for Burgess, citing her parents and having to prepare for a school day tomorrow as an excuse. Jack however couldn't follow her, since his youthful doctor insisted he go through at least two more bags of blood before she discharged him. The doctor couldn't leave him in her clinic overnight, nor could she leave him in the care of her peers given the sensitivity of his … dietary requirements. So in a remarkable show of generosity and trust, she had driven him to her home and set him up to with IV tubes in her living room.
Worried that the Guardians might be worrying about him, he had asked to borrow the doctor's phone, only to realise that he didn't actually remember any phone numbers. Reliance on modern technology, he noted in chagrin, had weakened his memory. So he asked to borrow a laptop instead, only to remember that other than himself, the Guardians were woefully unskilled in using computers and attempting to contact them this way was as fruitful as planting orchids in Antarctica. After much thought, he finally decided on another whom to contact.
Pressing on the call button, Jack waited, tapping his foot and eyeing the crimson tubes attached to his stomach. On the first try, the call didn't go through. But on the second try, he finally heard well-known nasally voice from the computer speakers, "WHAT?"
"Oh, hey, Hiccup," Jack greeted sheepishly. "I hope you're not too busy."
"BUSY?" He could almost hear his normally mild-mannered friend bursting in anger. "TODAY IS MY WEDDING ANNIVERSARY!"
"Oh, er, congratulations?"
He heard Hiccup swear under his breath, before muttering through grit teeth, "Is that all?"
"Er, no." He sucked in a breath. "You have a driver's license, right?"
"Yes."
"And a car?"
"Yes." The other boy's voice was wary.
"I'm kind of stuck in Corona now and I can't contact the Guardians. Can you drive me home?"
"Jack," Hiccup's tone was so tight that it was a wonder that it hadn't snapped "today is my wedding anniversary day. What am I doing on my anniversary day?"
The white-haired boy frowned, scratching his head thoughtfully. "You, ah, are …"
"I am…" Hiccup prompted.
"-celebrating-"
"I literally just told you the answer."
The image of the 'wedding' invitation came to his mind. The hotel. The viking theme. Jack paled. "Oh, no."
"Exactly." Hiccup was growling into the mouthpiece. "And my phone started ringing while I was talking to my father-in-law, who, by the way, is starting to wonder if it's my secret mistress calling me."
"You have a secret mistress?"
Jack could almost hear Hiccup's glare over the speakers.
"Errr, so," he hurriedly tried to detract from that road of conversation. "So, still any chance I can hitch a ride?"
"Don't you have other friends to bother?"
"Not any that won't ask questions about why I'm in Corona."
"Yeah, actually - why are you in Corona?"
"Long story. Will you please-" he clasped his hands together in a pleading motion though Hiccup couldn't actually see if "-please come take me home? I have a literature test tomorrow and not to mention a French assignment that I haven't started on. If I don't finish up on it, I'll die."
"Is there really no other way? Can't you run home yourself? Don't tell me vampires are actually slower than cars now."
"Err, I'm kind of-" he glanced down at the bandages under the his baggy shirt. It still sort of hurt when he shifted his ribs "-mobility impaired at the moment."
"Are you sure you can't contact the Guardians?"
"Unless I can train a carrier pigeon in less than ten years, no."
"Must it really be me?"
"Well-" he tapped his chin in thought "-you can drop a message at my house and tell the Guardians where I am."
There was a pregnant pause. Then finally - "Send me your location."
"Awesome." Jack rolled his finger of the pad on the laptop and sent the GPS coordinates of the house. He hoped that Dr. Fitzherbert didn't mind. She seemed pretty nice – except for the time that she pulled a silver-bullet gun on him. "Thanks. I owe you one."
"You owe me way more than that," Hiccup snapped, before letting out a groan. "Astrid's going to divorce me…"
With that, the call ended and Jack logged himself out of the computer, shutting it down. Conveniently, that was also the time when the doctor returned to the living room. He noted that she had changed out of her work clothes into a lighter set of garments. Her long blonde hair had been undone from its thick braid, flowing behind her like an endless river of gold. She approached him with a plate of cookies. "Want one? I made them myself."
"What do you have?" he inquired. His stomach was technically being filled with the blood flowing into it from the bag, but his jaws wanted something to munch.
"Well, there's chocolate, butter, white chocolate and oh,-" she let out a little giggle, making her seem suddenly much younger than her profession would permit "-cinnamon apple."
Jack accepted the white chocolate cookie, while Dr. Fitzherbert took a cinnamon apple one, sitting across him. From her simple and spacious home, she seemed to be fairly well off for someone who's just a humble physician. Also, a bungalow for one person seemed a bit much. He wondered if she had anyone staying with her, and whether that person would mind having a vampire in her home.
Anyway, what was the doctor thinking when she invited him into her home? That was, like, the number one thing not to do with a vampire. Wasn't she afraid of the consequences? I mean, he was a flippin' blood drinking vampire!
But then again, what kind of doctor would dare treat a vampire?
Scratch that. What kind of doctor actually knew how treat a vampire?
His pondering must have been obvious, for the doctor then remarked, "You seem like you want to ask me something."
"I do, actually," Jack admitted. "Quite a few things actually, Dr. Fitzherbert."
"Just call me Rapunzel. I'm technically off duty." The doctor laughed. It was quite a pleasant laugh, he discovered. "Well, let's see if I can't work out your questions. Hmm." She nibbled her cookie. "How did I know how to treat you?"
He nodded.
"Well, I've been around for a while. I've seen quite a few extraordinary patients." There was a twinkle in her eye when she said that. "And some of those patients happen to vampires."
"Whoa." Jack's eyes widened. "So you're like a doctor for magic creatures?"
She chuckled at the notion. "Well, I suppose so. I'm no expert in magic though. My expertise is in-" she smiled mysteriously "-unique physiologies."
"Whoa." He couldn't help repeating himself. It sounded rather impressive. "Where did you learn it?"
Dr. Fitzherbert – or as Jack reminded himself to call her, Rapunzel – shrugged. "I had some books and I've done my own research, but a good deal is trial and error."
"Cool." Something that she had said earlier set off an alarm in his head, and he found himself leaning forward as he asked, "Wait, what do you mean that you've 'been here for a while'?"
A mysterious smile appeared on her face, and she tilted her head to the side. "How old do you think I am, Jack?"
He stared at her for a long moment, knowing full well what her question implied. He perked his ears up, listening hard. But, wait… "I don't understand. You have a heartbeat – a normal one too."
"Vampires are hardly the only aged beings to walk the Earth," Rapunzel told him, holding out the plate to him once again. "I'm a five hundred and thirty-eight, by the way."
He accepted a chocolate cookie this time, shoving the whole thing in his mouth at once. His eyes searched her thoroughly for any sign of deception, or any side of a talisman that she might be wearing to disguise her appearance, but there was none. While he knew that vampires were not the only immortal creatures, he knew that none lived quite as long as vampires did, and almost none that lived in perfect health and supernatural strength. He knew that Hiccup's aging would overtake his with a century, and a witch like Merida would age normally like any human even if she did live to a hundred. The possibility of sprites and fays came to mind, but Bunny told him that the race was a lot more smaller in size and most were already extinct. Besides, she looked too human to fit any of those classifications.
"How?" was all he could push out of his throat.
"The story is rather long." She looped a long gold strand behind her ear, and he suddenly had a feeling that her tale might be attached to her curiously gold hair. "But it'd suffice to say that I have a curse of sorts." Yep, it's hair. Someone write his bet down and place ten bucks next to it, because it's totally the hair. "What about you?"
"Me?" He was puzzled. "You want to know why I'm immortal? Well, I'm a vampire."
"No, not that." She shook her head, smiling still, but sadder now, as if admitting her curse, whatever that was, was truly unpleasant for her. She pointed to the bag of blood hanging of the IV rack. "Why were you so agitated about being hooked up to human blood? I mean, don't all vampire drink human blood?"
"Oh." He had actually been trying to forget that the blood entering his system was indeed human blood. He didn't want to consciously register the fact, just in case the blood made him feel sated and energized. He might very well start regretting his animal-source-only diet in the future and that was a mistake he didn't want to make again. "It's a long story. Suffice to say though, I drink, or eat, animal blood. Only."
"Animal blood?" She seemed genuinely intrigued by this idea. "You drink animal blood only? On a normal basis?"
"Yes," he confirmed, surprised by her interest.
"Oh. Wow." Rapunzel leaned back into her seat, pushing back her long golden fringe. He didn't understand her reaction. Was this really such a foreign concept? "I never thought that that would even be sustainable. I mean, I've read countless studies." She shook her head. "Vampires can eat human food, but it can never be a replacement for nutrients. Animal blood has effects, but a complete switch has been proven to be impossible over and over."
"Well, it's not," Jack contradicted, feeling an odd surge of pride as he declared it. "The Guardians are proof of that."
Her head jerked sharply towards him. "There's more than one of you?"
He grinned.
The doctor was flustered, fidgeting strangely in her seat. "This is mind-blowing! Avant-garde! I need to hear all about this. You need to tell me at once. No, wait." She leapt off her chair, sprinting across the living room and out to a joined corridor. "I'm getting writing material. Be right back!"
With his hostess-cum-doctor gone, Jack found himself bored once again. He glanced at the bag of blood attached to him. Still one quarter of it left to go. He sighed. He hoped that it would be done by the time Hiccup came for him.
It was then he heard the turning of keys, followed by the squeaking of hinges. It sounded like it was coming from the entrance hall of the bungalow. Jack's sharp ears picked up on the steps that were walking stealthily towards him, turning around the bend towards the living room. He heard a masculine voice, "So, I was just driving home today and passed Martha's bakery, and thought to my-"
It broke off when the owner of voice himself appeared in the living room. He was a lean, toned, young man in his mid-twenties dressed in some kind of uniform, which didn't seem to fit his cavalier, nonchalant manner. In one hand, he was carrying a box of cupcakes, and in the other he was carrying a bouquet of flowers. This would all have been very sweet if Jack hadn't noticed one thing missing from the picture.
This young man standing before him had no heartbeat.
Dropping the box of donuts and the flowers, the man whipped out a gun much similar to that of Dr. Fitzherbert and pointed it at him.
~~~0~~~
Tooth and North were away for the week, which meant that Jack would have to stay at the cottage alone. Doing so meant that he would have to bleed the sheep himself and patch their wounds. He also had to contain, filter and prepare the blood on his own - all without being discovered by their human neighbours and without going into a killing frenzy. It was a huge risk to let him do this alone. Jack recognised that, and was proud that his friends – dare he call them that? - trusted him enough.
"If you need anything else to chew on, I've got plenty stored in the pantry," Tooth had told him, planting a kiss on his cheek. "Help yourself to any of it."
North merely pat his shoulder and wished him good luck. "You can do this, yúnosha."
It had been nice to have the place to himself for a while, but after a while, he grew bored. He hadn't picked reading much on, no matter how many times North urged him to learn, so he couldn't read any of Tooth's books. He had no passion for gardening - not that any of them really did gardening. Thanks to his enhanced strength and speed, doing chores was extraordinarily efficient, leaving him with way too much time on his hands.
After sweeping the porch for the tenth time that day, he eventually decided to go down to town. North had given some money before leaving - to buy a treat for himself, he had said. Perhaps he would purchase himself a new set of boots. His old ones had missing their soles for the longest time.
So he did go to town and he did purchase himself a new pair of boots. It was made of leather, designed in France, the shopkeeper informed him with pride. They looked fantastic, but being new, they weren't very comfortable. So after walking a while in them, he stripped them off and slung them over his shoulder, walking barefoot instead.
And that was pretty much all he had on his agenda for the day. It was only ten in the morning. He wondered where Tooth and North were.
When he headed back to the cottage, a peculiar overcast came over the sun, providing a nice shade for him to walk around in. Thank goodness for it, because wearing a full overcoat to cover his pale skin in the blazing heat was all but baking him alive. He did fine it strange, though, to see such weather. From all his time in Calcutta, he knew that now was still the hottest season of year.
As he neared home, he was surprised to see a figure waiting by the porch of the house. Puzzled, he found himself hurrying forward, wondering if it was Tooth or North there.
He only grew more confounded when he arrived at the bottom step of the porch to find that the figure loitering there was not anyone he had expected.
His mouth fell open in a gasp. "You!"
"Ah, the young fellow I've been hoping to see." The pale, gaunt man he had met the week before at the docks greeted him once again, the tipping of his hat. "How do you do?"
Jack didn't know how to answer, but he took three wary steps back.
"What's the matter, my dear boy?" the 'courteous' gentleman approached him, cane swinging and slapping against the ground. "Don't tell me you're afraid of me?" He sounded quite amused by the prospect.
"You're the one who killed the smokers in the boathouse, aren't you?" the blunt question flew straight from his lips. His knees were bent and his hips readied in a twist, all prepared to sprint away. "All twenty of them?"
The man stared down at him, resting his palms on the head of his cane. Cocking his head to the side, he asked, "Is it a crime to kill animals?"
"They weren't animals," Jack snarled back, fist clenching. His muscles were screaming at him to run but his pride rooted him to the ground. "They were men – flesh and blood men."
"So self-righteous. So naïve." The shadowy gentleman clucked his tongue, shaking his head sadly. "Really, my dear boy, have you never slaughtered a flock of beasts before?"
The boy didn't answer.
"What about a team of men?"
Still no response.
"An entire settlement?"
He said nothing, but the terror in his eyes revealed all.
Unfortunately, this did not escape the notice of the unwelcome caller. "Ah, you are ashamed. That's curious. Why?"
"Why? Why shouldn't I be?" He could feel disgust growing within him as he thought back to the first night that he emerged fully turned, when he was unbelievably thirsty. Someone would think it vengeance that he had wiped out the very people who had planned to have him wrongfully executed, but no wrong had ever righted wrong, all the more so when those punished included innocent strangers. There was no excuse for his carnage.
"You needed to feed, and you succeeded in doing so," the gentleman told him very matter-of-factly. "If they were unable to defend themselves against you, then that itself justifies your victory."
"Victory?" Jack gawked at him. "I slaughtered them!"
"And they deserved it. It is not fitting that the strong defeat the weak?" was the answer, so cold and merciless that it struck the lad right in the core, stunning him. The pale gentleman peered at Jack up and down, sighing. "Oh, you poor boy. Beating yourself up over such matters. It's a pity that North placed such ideas in your head."
The white-haired vampire blinked. "Wait. You know North?"
The older fellow let out a low chuckle. "Of course I do. How else did I know the address of his residence?"
Jack drew himself back, forehead creased and arms trembling. He gaped at the towering, imposing figure that loomed before him. The skies above that had been so blue just hours ago seemed to darkened more than ever. Shadows seemed to surround the pale figure, sharpening his features.
Stumbling over his words, the boy gasped, "Who-who are you?"
The older vampire merely grinned. "Perhaps you would join me this evening for a event. It would prove to be very enlightening for you, I imagine."
Tapping his cane once on the ground, the figure suddenly dissolved into a colony of bats, screeching as they swept down towards the boy.
Jack hurriedly covered his face, wincing as he felt the wings scratch against his skin. But the gust of talons passed and when he lifted his head from his arms, he found that the pale gentleman was gone. Shaking his head, he headed back within the cottage, wondering if he had dreamt it all.
As he passed through the drawing room however, he noted that there was a small note left on the table. He wasn't much of reader, true, but he had picked up enough over the years to read signs and short letters. This note he knew wasn't left to him by North or Tooth, so he picked up and read it.
'A token of goodwill, my boy.'
The paper was stained with something red. Against his better judgment, he leaned forward and sniffed it. Blood, but not just ordinary blood, no…human blood.
In fact, the scent was much stronger than he expected. It was fresh, pulsing, warm. It was floating around the drawing room, wafting into his nostrils. He found himself moving in the direction of the scent, pace quickening over the boards. He all but flung the kitchen door open in his eagerness to discover the source.
On the clean maplewood table that Tooth used to knead dough and roll pastry lay a moaning figure. He had no idea who she was - dark-skinned, probably no older than sixteen, quite pretty, delicate thing. Maybe she was the daughter of a farmer, or one of the girls who worked cleaning clothes by the banks – he hadn't the faintest. All Jack did know was that she had Tooth's butcher knife rammed through her stomach and she was crying weakly as her blood dripped down the side of her hips, forming a small pool of crimson liquid on the floor.
Such a waste of young blood.
He knew he shouldn't do this. He knew he should run, or maybe help the poor girl. But he didn't want to.
There had been an horrendous itch growing inside of him, so gnawing and burning in him for so long that it had actually started to hurt. Why had he ever let North and Tooth convince him otherwise? Why had he been so ashamed of his nature? Why had he allowed himself to suffer?
Visceral instincts kicked in. In that moment, he was certain that all the animal blood in the world could not compare to the sweet, sweet substance contained in the veins of mankind.
~~~0~~~
More flashbacks. There's going to be quite a bit of them to explain what exactly The Guardians are, and how the 'pale gentleman' (whose identity should be obvious) fits into all this.
Most of the stuff I know about British India and the East Indian Company comes from Wikipedia and playing computer games.
Jack does have quite a bloody past.
Yeah, Rapunzel has her own story. Is it important? I …honestly don't know.
Guest Mailbox review:
Alene Mask: I really enjoy writing cliffhangers. I really do way too much of it too. Sigh. Ah, Ice Alliance. I used to like it, but I think I haven't had the time to keep up with it in a while. More #conflictedElsa in next chapter.
Do review if you enjoyed it. And to all those people whom I haven't replied your reviews to, I promise I will do it soon!
Shar Out. And About. Like Stout. Piece of Trout.
I'm done with myself.