Chapter Fourteen: Awakenings
Bella's POV:
Alice and I tried to think of different plans for a long time, but everything we could think of would end with Rye feeling like his confidence had been betrayed. Even if he would be ultimately happy in the end, I didn't want to tarnish the reputation of the Cullens any further; that vampires really could be friendly.
It was several hours later that I had to give up for a little bit. I was exhausted mentally of getting so many negative responses. Alice at this point was just staring at me as I thought of new ideas, and she told me that if one worked, she would tell me.
I walked outside, only to find Renee, Jacob, and Seth all phasing between their wolf and human forms rapidly. At first, I was wondering what they were doing, until I noticed that Jacob's and Seth's clothes were not exploding as they changed forms.
"Hey, you guys got it!" I said, walking forward. Jacob and Seth grinned at me.
"Finally won't shred all my shoes!" Jacob said, waggling his eyebrows.
I laughed at his expression. Renee turned to me with an eager expression.
"Bella, would you like to try?"
Seth's eyebrows shot up. "Uh, what?"
I remembered Seth hadn't heard yet. I opened my mouth to tell him before Renee got the chance to.
"Well, as it turns out, Renee and—"
"Bella's another wolf!" Renee said energetically, almost a squeal. If I hadn't been embarrassed, I would have enjoyed her reaction.
As it was, Jacob was smiling devilishly, and Seth's eyes were wide as his grin. All three of them were staring at me intensely, and it was making me feel slightly uncomfortable.
"Leah's got a pack-sister?" Seth said. Now it was my turn to be surprised. I hadn't thought of it that way.
I wondered if she would be pleased or disappointed by that idea. Suddenly I wished I had Edward's mind-reading ability to know ahead of time, while I also would much rather prefer not to know.
"So?" Renee asked me, bringing the greater part of my focus off of my current train of thought. "Do you want to? Try, I mean?"
I sighed. "Are you going to be able to calm down until I do?"
Renee thought about that for a moment.
"Nope," she said matter-of-factly.
I walked over, feeling the burn that would've been a blush on a human. "Okaaaay, what do I have to do?"
Jacob, Seth, and Renee all started speaking at once, and though my vampire-brain could sort out what each of them was saying into legible sentences, it was still much on my senses.
"Please, just one person at a time," I asked, and they all quieted down. Renee and Seth both glanced towards Jacob, who seemed minorly surprised that he had been chosen to tell me.
"Well, there should be a point of heat kind of where your heart is…" Jacob said, before realizing who he was talking to again. "Oh right. Um, can you feel any sort of heat within your chest?"
I quickly checked. Did I feel any bright points of heat? Any sensations of warmth? Not really. I just felt… neutral. Like there simply was no temperature.
"Not really," I said. Jacob seemed frustrated at this. Renee stepped in.
"Sweetie, there should be a point of heat right below where your heart would be, as if it was kindling your heart?" she asked, I'm sure just to check if I was looking in the right place.
"I can't really explain how it feels to you guys," I started, "But vampires don't feel heat or cold. Pain becomes muted, and the only burning sensation is the thirst. I really can't feel any points of heat."
'Not like I would, even still,' I added in my thoughts. 'After feeling firsthand the pain of the burning of transforming, I would expect everything else to become muted as well.'
All three werewolves looked like they had their ears drooping after this. I felt bad for breaking it to them like this, but I had no idea what to look for, or really what they were looking for.
I sighed again, before touching Jake's arm. "What else do I have to do, Jake?"
He gave me another lopsided grin. "Well, the rest of the instructions would've been to pull the point of heat out and spread it through your body, but if you can't feel it you can't get to the second step."
"Oh," I said simply. I wasn't sure how I was going to get past that obstacle then. I could only imagine the sensations. "If you're sure then."
Jacob nodded, and he and Seth began talking excitedly again about being able to phase without shredding their clothes. As they walked off, Renee walked over to me, seeming more sober than a moment ago.
"So you really can't feel anything?" she asked me. "That surprises me."
"I can feel, I just can't feel heat like normal people. Like I said, it's hard to explain," I replied.
"Maybe it's still early yet," Renee speculated. "Although I don't know why you wouldn't be able to phase already, since you're already literally your own catalyst."
"Mom," I began slowly. I wasn't sure how to break this to her. "I might not be able to phase because the gene can't activate anyways. The way vampires' immortality works is because every cell in our bodies are frozen in time, unable to age at all. Rosalie would love to have a baby of her own, but she never can because of that.
"But I don't know if that could mean that our shapeshifter gene won't be able to activate either. It's possible that I just won't ever be able to phase, mom."
"That's not to say it doesn't have a chance though, Bella," Edward said, suddenly at my side. His endearingly gorgeous lopsided grin was stretched across his face. "I've seen crazier things happen before. Especially when you're involved, love."
I shrugged. "Maybe."
Edward just grinned at me for a moment more. Then he turned to Renee.
"Excuse us, we should probably go hunting," he says. "We'll be back later, and then she can try again."
Renee nodded, and walked off back towards the house as I looked at Edward.
"Why am I trying again later?"
"Oh come on, Bella, you tried once and you're going to quit already?" Edward asked, rolling his eyes. "Especially when now is when you'll have voluntary help from Jacob and Renee. Even Seth seems ready and willing to do his part to help you turn into a werewolf-vampire hybrid."
"But—" I began.
"Just let them have their hopes for a little while longer. If, after a couple of years, you still can't phase, then you are well within your rights to give up on making the attempt. But you never know when you might be able to phase. It's usually a surprise without warning, so I've seen from Sam's and Jacob's memories."
"A couple years?" I asked. "How long do you think it would take me to learn how to phase?"
Edward shrugged. "Like I said, I have no idea. Might be right now. Might be never. But I know that you should keep trying."
I narrowed my eyes at him as he began to slowly lead me off to the library. "Why are you so enthusiastic about me turning into a werewolf?"
Edward shrugged, but I wouldn't let him get away that easily. As we began to sprint through the forest, I kept prodding him with some questions.
"No, seriously? I thought you hated werewolves? What if I smell bad like Jacob?"
Edward laughed at me, and turned to me. A brief flicker of some other emotion crossed his face, before it turned into a triumphant grin.
"First of all," Edward began, "there is nothing in this world that could ever make me hate you, love, no matter what species you were, are, or will becomes. Second, both of us managed to survive when I was breathing in your scent all the days we were together when you were still human. I'll manage with dog-smell, even though I doubt you'll smell exactly the same as Jacob or the other shapeshifters.
"Third, it's not often that a vampire is actually able to claim an inheritance from their 'original' birth-parents. For you to have one such as this is a special occurrence, and I want you to be able to experience it," Edward summed up.
"Okay," I said slowly, trying to argue but coming up with utterly nothing. "That's a valid point…"
Edward pounced onto the back of an elk, satisfied that he had convinced me. The elk he was on was so surprised by the unexpected attack that it actually fell over, rolling on top of Edward, but I knew he was completely fine.
I latched onto an elk of my own, sating my insatiable thirst for the moment. I glanced down and noted with obvious pleasure that I had only gotten a small splash of the creature's blood on my shirt.
The observation threw me into a flashback of the first time I had gone on a hunting trip with the rest of the Cullens. I was getting better and better every hunting trip about getting blood on my clothes. But that first time, when I came back to camp in a blood-soaked set of clothes, Emmett hadn't been able to stop laughing for nearly an hour after I had gotten back, and Alice had been about to go into conniptions, fussing over my ruined wardrobe.
Edward brought me out of my memory as he grabbed my hand. His eyes were now lightly golden. He smiled at me.
"Ready to go back?" he asked.
"Yeah," I said absently, thinking of my many dilemmas in front of me; somehow telling Leah about Rye, figuring out what I'm looking for to turn into a werewolf, if I could turn into a werewolf...
And suddenly we were off again. I decided to think about one thing at a time as we ran back homewards again. Telling Leah. She should be up about now. It mildly surprised me to see the sun so low in the horizon already. It felt like it had only been minutes since Carlisle had given us Leah's prognosis. I didn't have much time left.
I noticed Edward looking back at me with a strange mix of emotions on his face. Wonder and pride being two of them. I felt confused. It wasn't like I was doing anything amazing at the moment worthy of wonder.
"What?" I asked, my curiosity nagging me. "Why are you looking at me like that?"
"Bella," Edward began. "I am the fastest vampire in our family. Not even you were faster than me in your newborn state."
I felt a little—shocked wasn't the right word—taken aback by this statement. It wasn't really like Edward to brag about something. Especially with no context. He laughed at the confusion visible on my face.
"It's been a little over a year now, so you shouldn't have any more of your newborn strength anyways," Edward continued, grinning at me like he knew something I didn't, "and right now, love, I am going full speed,"
I frowned as we ran. He was going full speed? But… I had seen his full speed. I had seen his full speed when I was a vampire, and could track his movements with my eyes. I knew there was no way I could actually keep up with him.
And yet, here I was, easily keeping pace at his side. I didn't even really feel like I was exerting much on my legs. Like I could go faster. I looked down. My legs were pumping at the same pace Edward's were.
I felt so confused by this, I could feel myself automatically slowing down.
"How—" I began to wonder aloud, but Edward beat me to the punch.
"I wonder if your mother is going to have to teach you to be a werewolf sooner than you both thought," he laughed. "Because as far as I know, this is a sign that your Quileute genes might not be so dormant as you might expect."
The house came into view. I was shocked. Maybe I really could turn into a werewolf. Wow. A sentence I never thought I'd say.
But my attention was drawn away from my current train of thought as a certain pixie-like vampire bounced into view.
"Bella, Leah's about to wake up!" Alice squeaked, "Have you thought of a plan yet?" With that, she darted back into the house.
Dang it.
Leah's POV:
FINALLY. I gasped, having feeling return to my legs. But what I awoke to was not what I was expecting.
Nearly five of the Cullens (the doc, his wife, Bella, Alice, and Jasper) were just sitting around me, staring at me as though I had grown a unicorn horn while I had slept. I almost put a hand to my head to check, their gaze was all so intent. The sickly-sweet smell of bloodsucker was heavy in the room.
"Uh, hi, literallyeveryone," I said, confused. "What are you all glaring at?"
The shorter bloodsucker looked like she was about to pop with enthusiasm. It was draining me, even though I had just slept for what felt like days. Bella was gazing deep into my eyes, as though she was trying to convey something with her golden peepers. She glanced to the side, at who I assumed must be her leech-mate.
"How are you feeling, Leah?" Bella asked first, coming to sit next to the bed on my right hand side.
"Fine. What's gotten into all of you guys?" I asked. It was kinda weirding me out at this point.
Bella glanced again over to the other side of the room, before staring hard into my eyes again. There was a curtain splitting my view from the room, and I couldn't find it in myself to care who she was looking at.
"Look, I gotta get up and—" I began, already straining to move my arms and legs into a sitting position.
Suddenly I was interrupted by Renesmee running into the room, followed by Jacob. She held a piece of paper in her hands.
"Good evening, Leah!" she said, in her perfect English. "Are you feeling better? I drew a picture for you."
Ugh. Since even I had more decency than that, I knew that I had to act very surprised and honored for whatever seven-year-old doodle Renesmee had concocted on the page.
But as she handed it to me, I truly was surprised. This was like no seven-year-old's scribbles, ever. Maybe Michelangelo had had drawings like this as a kid. Maybe he wished he could draw like this as a seven-year-old.
The face staring back at me was complete, more like a portrait than a drawing, done with what appeared to be crayons. Crayons. And yet it felt like I was looking in a mirror as I gazed at the short, lithe grey wolf that I knew was based after me.
And then I saw something else in the picture. Behind the wolf, there was a dark figure. On the right side, the shape resembled some sort of creature that was unidentifiable to me. There was the vaguest hint of ruby skin hidden in the shadows of the man's own aura, and one eye was a piercing yellow. The left side of the man faded into the form that resembled a normal human man. Sandy blonde hair, and just the hint of stormy grey eyes…
Wait a minute…
"Renesmee…" I said slowly, "This is incredible."
I noted that for such a little compliment as that appeared to be, Renesmee beamed widely with pride. I barely kept my voice from shaking as I asked my next question.
"Where did you see this man?" I asked slowly, making sure to point out the figure to Renesmee.
"Well, he's right over there silly," Renesmee said, pointing to the curtain.
Several of the other vampires in the room rolled their eyes as if this was a secret they'd each been secretly hoping to let out. Bella cleared her throat.
"Renesmee, you weren't supposed to say that," Bella said, glancing at me and purposely crossing her fingers.
My heart just leapt in my throat. Suddenly Bella's strange glance made sense, and I knew I would be indebted to her probably forever. My limbs moved slowly, but nobody stopped me as I clambered over the side of the bed. My feet hit the ground and groaned at me, but I ignored them as I slowly made my way around the curtain.
And there he was. My imprint.
His body was more fluidly shifting than before, with about half of it some strange, other form at all times. The way that his human skin and red skin was rippling across his upper body was enchantingly mesmerizing, like watching the patterns of flowing waves and water. A large red wing jutted out of his back, draped over the edge of the bed like a loose blanket.
His stormy grey eyes watched my reactions warily, though all of his other muscles seemed to be locked down, unable to move. I drank in the sight of him, not wanting to break eye-contact and possibly let him escape again.
"What happened to him?" I asked, moving slowly to his bedside. I wasn't sure if it would be extremely weird of me to hold his hand or not, even though I was sure I was already being plenty weird enough. "Why isn't he moving?"
"His body's tired," Edward said quietly, appearing in the room. "It's currently holding him down to rest, but when he generates enough energy again, he'll be up and moving about again normal as ever."
I nearly sighed in relief. Internally, I was pretty much sobbing with joy that the situation wasn't nearly as bad as I had originally thought. He wasn't kidnapped by human-drinking bloodsuckers, he wasn't dead, he wasn't really even hurt much. He was just tired.
But as I looked at his face, he looked away from me, glancing past me at someone behind me, probably Edward.
"No, she's really not," Edward said to some unspoken question. "Seriously, you might even surprise yourself to hear that she doesn't care in the slightest."
Instantly I felt defensive. I wasn't a mind-reader, so I couldn't pretend to know what the question was; and I wasn't a particularly dramatic sort of girl who believes in Prince Charmings and dashing rescuers just around every corner, but I did know that I didn't like to be told what I did or did not feel. I turned to Edward with what I was sure a dangerous glint in my eye.
"What exactly don't I care about?" I asked, just daring him to give me the wrong answer.
"That Rye is very clearly not human," Edward said simply.
Oh. But, with another look from my imprint, Edward rolled his eyes.
"Sorry, 'That Rye is very clearly not human.'" Edward reiterated, stressing the not further than was probably necessary.
I turned back, and grabbed his hand. Making sure I held his eye-contact, I leaned forward.
"Rye," I began, pleased with how right that name sounded in my ears, "I spend half of my time on four legs, with a tail. I've eaten whole deer raw, and had a week where I had a problem with fleas. If you think that a pair of wings and horns are going to scare me away, you're going to have a much harder time that you think trying to get rid of me. In fact…" I said, leaning over to whisper one of my dark secrets in his ear, "I'm rather fond of the color red."
If I had been speaking to anybody else, I know that those sentences in conjunction would have been way too forward for having really just talked to the person for the first time. Even if I were speaking to a human imprint. But as I said the words, I knew deep down that I didn't need to worry about being forward. He felt the same way. I could feel it.
Slowly, everybody filed out of the room. The doc took some measurements real quick, before leaving the room and shutting the door behind him. I knew that whatever I did (eg, crying, punching my imprint for leaving, or awkwardly try to make conversation with someone who could not talk back to me) would probably be heard by the ten other occupants of the house, regardless of whether they were in the room or not. So I did the first safe thing I could think of; I smiled at Rye.
And slowly, I saw him smile back at me too.
Rye's POV:
I couldn't believe it. No way was this happening. This had to be a dream.
She… didn't care?
Not even that, she found my crimson curse… natural? She said she wasn't frightened at the least.
I wanted to pinch myself to make sure if I was dreaming, but since my arms couldn't move I wouldn't know unless it ended.
Oh gosh, please don't let this end. I don't want this dream to end.
She was smiling with such openness at me; like I was a long-lost friend that had come back after many years.
More than anything, I wanted to reach up and touch her, to make sure she was real. I wanted to hear her voice, to make sure I could hear it. I felt something welling up inside of me that I thought had been quashed down years ago.
Hope. Hope that someone would be comfortable, perhaps even comforted, by my otherworldly appearance. I didn't want hope to have too much free rein, or I would be crushed if I was rejected like all other times before. But the earnestness with which she was staring at me was hard to ignore; like I was the sun to her moon.
I could see her glancing at my hand, and wondered if she was having the same thoughts. The look on her face was similar to what I imagined might have been on my own face, had I been able to move. Unsure, like touching the image before her might cause it to disappear altogether.
Instinctively, I felt my body respond. My arm, which had previously only laid there as responsive as if dead, reached up slowly. I grabbed her hand, and slowly my fingers closed around hers.
The fire that surged through my arm was unlike the fire I had felt previously. My body heat didn't feel anything like this kind of heat. The difference in heat as feeling the warmth of a campfire versus the warmth of the sun. The heat that flared through my body now was more like a glowing, than a raging fire. A pleasant, soft warmth, rather than the harsh sting of flames.
I struggled to say something. I had to say something to her; Hi? My name is Rye? Marry me? My jaw shook with the effort I was trying to exert trying to relieve it from my temporary paralysis.
She saw my efforts, and sat down next to the bed. Though she tried to hide behind sarcasm, her eyes were still shining with relief. "You can talk to me when you're strong enough to sit up by yourself, you idiot. Don't stress about it."
But there was so much I wanted to say to her. I wanted her to stay. I wanted to tell her about myself, and hear about herself in return. I wanted to ask her if she knew what I was. I wanted to say—
But I felt my body remember that it was too tired to move at the moment, and I felt all my conscious thoughts and actions were shutting down to rest.
I would just have to be patient a little longer.
Ugh.
A man in a dark coat walked silently through the streets of the darkened town. He stole quietly towards the small market vendor. Perhaps just one loaf of bread wouldn't hurt the salesman…
Rye reached out tentatively. He wished he had the money necessary to pay for the bread, but he would work for it just as soon as he was able. He couldn't very well walk into the town and try to find a job, could he?
He sighed. If only his curse wasn't so blatantly visible. He looked down. He was only fifteen years old now, but his body had suddenly shot up. It wasn't normal, it wasn't remotely human, the way he suddenly had acquired ripped features. He looked like a freakin' heavyweight wrestler. And his curse just made the muscles even more prominent.
Almost without a rustle, the wind blew through the town, only heralded by the distant approach of the storm. The scent of fresh rain was heavy on the wind. The only sound that could be heard was the soft pattering of stealthy footsteps as Rye rushed off, heading towards the small shack outside the town that served, for a few more days, as the roof to cover his head.
But as he ran, he heard the softest sound. Like a whisper on the edge of his imagination. He looked around him. Nobody was in sight. But again he heard the whisper.
He began walking off, for the moment forgetting about the small loaf of bread in his hand. Where was the sound coming from? As he began to near to the source, the whisperings gradually formed words. Words that were enticing, wondrous, and yet somehow dangerous in intonation.
Rye carefully peeked around the corner. He frowned.
A woman stood in the moonlight, and though her back was facing Rye, he could see that she was beautiful. Inhumanly so. She had to be a vampire. Her voice was soft and appealing as she spoke softly to two small figures scrunched up in the shadows of the alley. Rye inched closer to hear what she was saying to what appeared to be two of the small children of the village.
"—no need to be frightened," she purred. "It will be quick and painless, children."
Rye saw the looks on the children's faces, who were about to become the vampire's next meal. Though they should have been terrified, or felt some sort of instinctual fear, all Rye saw was a sleepy haze over their eyes, like they were under some sort of spell. Did the vampire hypnotize them? They began inching forward, as though ignoring the fact that the vampire before them offered them death.
He couldn't get away from vampires no matter where he traveled to. That was for sure. He spent most of his time nowadays hiding from the undead stalkers of the night. But he couldn't just stand by and watch two human children get murdered.
He stepped out from the alleyway. Even this slight sound caused the vampire to glance back at him in surprise. She had evidently not been paying enough attention.
Rye had to stop himself from falling over. Suddenly it felt like he was ten years old again, running through a rainforest in South America. It was her.
Ramona.
Why was she in Mexico? Rye knew that there were other vampires here, but he had for some reason always thought that he would be safe from Ramona here.
Somehow, through superhuman effort, he kept his expression controlled; calm, and cool.
Ramona glared back at Rye, but he never saw recognition flash in her eyes. He was glad that he looked different enough to her not to be recognized. Rye could feel his horns slowly rising up from his head under the hat he wore, as he glared back at Ramona.
"Leave the children alone," he said, in a bass voice. He had had to get used to speaking like an adult when his body grew so much, to avoid drawing too much attention to himself when he did associate with humans. He hoped that the sound of his voice wouldn't trigger any memories of him for Ramona either.
Thankfully, Ramona still seemed unaware of who he was. She turned to him, and as soon as she broke eye-contact the spell over the children broke. They scurried back into the shadows like it was a protective blanket that would repel the vampire. Ramona's pleasant smile grew into a menacing grin. "Why should I?"
"I won't let you drink them," Rye threatened.
Ramona's expression faltered as she looked shocked that the stranger before her knew of the existence of vampires. Rye used it, and dashed forward. Ramona instantly lunged backwards and tore at the air in front of her in self-defense like a cornered cat, but Rye rushed past her and scooped up the two children.
"We're getting out of here!" he whispered to the children, as he turned back again to exit the alleyway. But Rye stopped in his tracks. His diversion had only been enough to get past her, but now Ramona stood between them and the exit again. Her expression was amused, and if there was any word that Rye could use to describe the way she stood there with the moon in the background, it would be catlike. More like a panther, than anything else. Predatory, but feline and graceful.
"Well, that was… ultimately futile," Ramona said, laughing softly. "What were you hoping to accomplish?"
"Hang on tight to me, kids," Rye whispered, and the children nodded and gripped his clothes tighter. Rye shifted the kids a little as he felt his wings beginning to form; his body understanding the danger they were in, and seemingly reacting to the situation. "Well, I was hoping that you would still be confused."
"Vampires are much faster than that, you can believe me," Ramona said, as a purr, as she slowly took a step forward. Rye took a step back. "Would you like to see?"
As Rye looked at Ramona's eyes, he could've sworn he saw the red swirling around. Like rings, each spinning in orbit of the black pupil in the center of her eye. The slowly, circling rings of red were hypnotic, and—
Hypnotic?
Rye shook his head, and glanced down. "I know that vampires are fast. You don't have to remind me."
The children in Rye's arms felt very, very frightened by now. Vampires? What was the stranger and the scary woman talking about?
"I don't think you would be calmly standing there if you did know," Ramona said, trying to get Rye to look at her again. "See, I can—!"
She attempted to zip over to Rye and catch him off-guard, but the instant she moved Rye's hand was up. Ramona's eyes widened as she realized that Rye had caught her hand before she had been able to even touch him.
"How?" she began.
Rye cut her off, "you're not the only one who's fast."
Ramona seemed confused by this sentence. Rye knew now was the time to strike. "NOW GUYS!"
It was the oldest trick in the book, and it worked. Ramona hissed and spun around to try and find any threats, while Rye's coat fell off. His two large wings pumped once, and he was in the air.
Ramona spun back around, and her eyes widened as she saw Rye's wings. The look on her face changed from intense anger to a maniacal glee.
"Sparrow!" she said grinning, as Rye climbed higher into the sky. By this time, the children in his arms were very, very frightened. "You can't stay up there forever, dear!"
Rye glanced down at the two kids in his arms. "Do you two know where you live?"
They nodded once, their eyes shut tight as Rye's wings flapped skittishly.
Rye turned to one of the kids in his arms. "I need you to open your eyes and tell me, quick."
The child, after a few moments of deliberation, seemed to trust Rye. She opened her eyes and quickly scanned the small town below her. Then she pointed to a small building near the top right corner of the town. Rye nodded.
"This might be a little scary. Hang on tight," Rye said, as he began his descent.
The children didn't need to be told twice.
Rye zoomed forward, swooping down to the house. Ramona was not in sight, probably trying to find a way to launch herself where she thought Rye would be in the air. The air was rushing by them as Rye pulled out of a steep dive, zooming right over the ground towards the small building. He slowed his momentum, and lowered his legs. He skidded to a stop, before putting the kids on the ground.
"As fast as you can, go back into bed, and try to lay low," Rye said quietly. As an afterthought, he thought of an idea. "Only then will this dream end."
The two children's eyes widened. They hadn't realized this was all just a dream. They were only about two to three years old. They easily believed him, and hurried inside the house.
Rye turned and began dashing out of the town. The bread from earlier was all but forgotten. Now he had to escape before Ramona—
Suddenly there she was on top of him. Rye rolled, kicking and punching as he and Ramona began scratching and clawing one another.
At first, Ramona was wildly gleeful. The look on her face was alike that of the exultations of a madman/madwoman's. But the longer she touched him, the more the gleeful smile melted off of her face, replaced by a confused frown. Rye attributed it to the fact that he seemed to be holding his own in the fight, but Ramona suddenly hissed. "How are you doing that, dear?"
Rye didn't know what she was talking about, until he saw the smoke. He looked down.
The coat, the clothes, everything on his torso that he had been wearing was burned off, as though he had been set on fire and didn't know about it. Glowing fragments of his shirt wafted into the night, sparking like embers of a campfire. And yet there wasn't a single burn mark on his chest.
This was enough to startle him into focusing most of his concentration on this fact. Ramona used it to her advantage.
Suddenly she was raking her claws across Rye's chest, slicing open skin and muscle like they were made of melted butter. Rye howled in pain, and the heat in his chest spiked. His vision went red. He heard a scream. It might have been his own.
Suddenly, the heat dropped back to a reasonable temperature. Rye panted deep breaths for a moment, lying there in the street as he waited for the world to stop spinning.
It took him a few moments to realize that Ramona wasn't digging through his chest anymore. Where did she go?
Painfully, Rye sat up. What he saw shocked him into silence.
In a five-foot circle all around him, the ground was charred and blackened, like a crater, or like something had detonated underneath him. Ramona was about twenty feet away, lying completely still, her figure limp and laying in the sandy road. She looked still untouched by any sort of signs of an attack, so at first Rye wasn't sure if she was just trying to lure him off-guard.
But then she groaned quietly, and he knew at once that she was out cold. This was his chance.
He heard people begin to wake up. He hadn't been very stealthy, the last ten minutes. He had to leave before they saw who or rather what he was.
Should he leave Ramona? He desperately wanted to say yes, but he felt like she was his problem. Like he just couldn't leave her for these unprepared townsfolk to deal with.
He debated for a moment more, before he rushed over. This was about the villagers. He couldn't let them discover the truth about vampires. They had to hold some semblance of security in their minds to stay sane.
He bent down and scooped up Ramona's prone form. Judging on what he did know of vampire physiology, it was hard, almost impossible, to actually hit a vampire hard enough to knock one out. But somehow he had. Or someone had. It didn't matter. He had to be quick, before Ramona woke up again.
He zipped out of the town like a rocket, nearly invisible to the naked eye. He dashed in a straight line, straight out into the desert surrounding the tiny Mexican town. As soon as he was sure he was far enough out, he placed Ramona down on the ground.
It struck him as odd how even in unconsciousness, Ramona looked so hypnotic. Entrancing. Alluring. She laid there on the sand, her hair splayed from her head like a dark halo. He noticed a tiny burn mark that looked fresh, seared into the skin on her neck. Somehow, even this tiny flaw made her seem all that more appealing.
But he knew if he stayed much longer, she would wake up and in all probability try to kill him. He knew that these were not his thoughts or feelings, but somehow she was influencing his thoughts. So he deliberately turned. Once his eyes were off Ramona, he no longer felt the pull to stay. He would have to be wary of that, in the future.
As the sun began to rise on his right, he spread his wings and took flight.
