Hey, everyone! Sorry for the late update. I've been dealing with some family things lately and haven't been in the right headspace to update. However, I hope you enjoy this chapter!
Big thanks to Sally for editing this chapter! You're the best!
P.S. Keep your eyes peeled for a new chapter of "A Perfect Submissive"! I'm really excited to start updating that story again! Considering the following that story has, I'm honestly a bit nervous to start updating but also really excited!
Enjoy!
Snowed In
8: Carnal
The smell of a human, even as faint as it was, was enough to make her throat itch. As the steps moved closer, her body slowly began to react. First, she was on her feet without thinking, posing with potency. Next, her skin covered in a thin layer of goosebumps, as if her flesh was reacting to an intense chill. A flush covered her cheeks—something she had thought was now impossible—and her eyes felt more alert. In a way, it felt like a switch inside of her had turned on as her pupils constricted, and her whole being felt like a sharp needle point.
Now, she was no longer a meek writer with a normal life. In this very moment, she was a weapon. Something brash, untrained, and potentially dangerous.
Edward was on his feet now, too, standing next to her and watching her as if she were a beast uncaged. Faintly, she remembered the time she visited a wild cat encloser. "Someone's watching the gates at all times. Just to make sure each of them close and secure before we venture too far into the encloser. If one gate malfunctions the animal could get out and … well, there's no knowing what could happen," a handler had said with a shudder that suggested just exclaiming the possibility of an error hit too close to home. At the time, Bella had wondered if something had happened between the handler and the tiger. Perhaps innocent pets had led the animal chomping for a piece of human meat. There had been something in the way the handler spoke that suggested despite her love for the big cat, she feared it.
Fear could come with just knowing the truth of one's nature though. Despite the tigers there seeming friendly, they were all predators who were probably growing tired of the sliced turkey meat. They were meant to rip animals apart and feast, not accept deli slices like a suburban human. Could denying a being's true nature only make them more dangerous?
As she stood and waited for her prey to come into view, Edward watched her like one of the tigers after a door of their cage had malfunctioned. His eyes were hesitant, and his jaw was locked. It was obvious that he tried to hide his expression, not wanting to seem afraid of the damage Bella could certainly do. While he tried to hide his fear for Bella's sake, they both knew he was failing. In a way, they were both afraid of what the next few minutes could possibly have in store.
"Focus. Remember what we practiced," Edward said as he stepped closer to her as if he were readying to reach out and grab her at any moment.
Would he restrain her? Would he stop things and save her and her prey or would he let things happen naturally as if he just wanted to see what could happen? How could they see what she was and wasn't capable of if he interfered?
He won't let me kill someone, right? If it looks like they're going to die, will he stop me? Or will he wait for me to know when to stop? How will I know? Really, how can I know unless someone tells me?
Fear was filling her now, consuming her as she stood still and finally saw a female jogger come into view. Every cell of her itched to move forward as if her body had ignited, and she was filled with flames. Before her mind could register her movements, Bella stepped forward—slowly at first before hitting a speed she had never achieved before.
Within seconds, her right arm wrapped around the jogger's body while her free hand, instinctively, silenced the woman's scream before it could even escape her lips. This was her first time, and yet, it felt as if Bella had done this many times before.
It was natural. Just like breathing had been.
Edward was next to her now, too, hovering close as he watched for her next move. Her mouth felt smaller suddenly, and somewhere in the foggy, hungered lust of her mind, she knew her fangs were protruding. While her teeth were naturally sharper as an undead, they only protruded when she was preparing to feed. The space in her mouth would feel as if it were diminishing as her teeth protruded so far that they nearly escaped her closed lips. She could feel them teasing the soft, slick flesh of her inner mouth, flirting with the thickness of her nether lip.
As if time were standing still, she moved leisurely at first, surprising herself as she let her nose trail along the flesh of the woman's neck. Perhaps it was the nervousness of first times that caused her movements to become so concentrated. Before this, she had imagined she would rip into whoever was unlucky enough to move into her path. While she never admitted as much to herself, that image had been heavy as it resigned to the back of her mind.
The jogger smelled faintly of sweat and vanilla body mist. The perfume—a smell similar to one Bella had frequently used on herself as a human—was now offensive to Bella's palate. It masked the woman's true odor—something Bella surmised would smell divine. In a way, it seemed that the simple, artificial scent was keeping Bella from acting too recklessly. If the woman hadn't smelled unnatural, could a newborn be capable of being this languid?
Her dry tongue and empty stomach brought Bella's mind back to the matter at hand. This was her first live meal—whether it smelled good to her or not. Who knew I could be this much of a snob? Bella thought as she opened her mouth and let her fangs escape.
She felt Edward's hand come to rest on the center of her back as if to give her strength and support while guiding her movements as she leaned forward and readied herself for her first taste. As soon as her fangs came in contact with flesh, she could no longer hold herself back. Her languid movements were now gone and replaced with a ferociousness that vibrated her flesh. Her teeth broke the skin of the woman's neck before her mouth was filled with a warm rush of blood.
Its taste was far different than the bags she had been given. Far different than Edward's blood too. The blood of another vampire was nothing compared to the warm, pure, and unique blood of a human. Like a wine, the blood had certain notes to its flavor. The blood tasted like sunlight and a crisp summer day. It felt like the month of August in her mouth.
Her fingers dug into the woman's flesh as she fed. With the blood filling her, Bella was becoming more and more untamed. The movements that had been slow and somewhat controlled were wild now as her mouth began to thrash. Blood was escaping and trailing down the jogger's neck to stain the fabric of her shirt. Hating the loss of blood, Bella pulled back long enough to lap it off the woman's flesh before returning to suck on the wound.
Too frenzied to bother with a plan to cease feeding, she felt Edward's hand come up to squeeze her shoulder. The touch served as a warning—stop now before the woman faints. There was a certain trick that came with feeding. A certain delicacy that the vampire needed to obtain.
When it came to feeding from a live human, there was a place in time that felt like heaven for the predator as well as the prey. This moment was euphoric—a climax of life. The blood transaction could feel like a dizzying flight into heaven—an orgasm with multiple climatic crescendos. For the prey, the blood loss would feel like a spine-tingling and toe-curling little death. For the predator, it would feel like a euphoric drug that made the entire world feel electric.
This ideal spot existed minutes before the prey lost consciousness. Just as the human began to grow cold and paled, the feeding time should reach its close. That was, of course, if the vampire didn't intend on killing the human. In which case, they would reach an entirely new state of euphoria as the human passed in their arms. This was a state of euphoria Bella prayed to God—if there was a God to pray to—that she would never reach. She wanted her pleasure to end as the human's pleasure did and planned on letting go of her prey before they had the opportunity to lose consciousness.
However, planning and doing were two different things. Especially for a newborn vampire. Even a well-behaved newborn vampire like herself. While her mind told her to stop, her body couldn't let go of the woman. Instead, her fingers dug deeper into the woman's flesh, creating white moons against the woman's bluing skin.
Pull away! You've got to pull away. Stop this. The taste … God, it's like nothing else in this world. Better than anything. Fuck … I've got to stop. I feel her fading … I can hear her heartbeat slowing down …
Without a word of warning, Edward skillfully pulled her back and caught the prey, who fell limply from her hands. Now, she couldn't look at him. Bella squeezed her eyes shut and tried to erase the look of disapproval she imagined he had from her mind.
"Bella."
Her name hung heavy in the air, but almost to her disbelief, there wasn't a note of disappointment in the tone. Still, her eyes were closed as she needed a moment to regain that feeling of normalcy.
What's normal anymore? Nothing will ever be truly normal again. I just fed on a person. I hurt someone … just like those vampires who hurt me.
"Bella," he repeated almost as if he were sensing her thoughts.
After a moment, it seemed like his attention had turned elsewhere. Bella, finally feeling somewhat comfortable, opened her eyes to find Edward leaning over the jogger, gently tapping her face with the back of his hand. The woman was unconscious, causing Bella's stomach to drop.
Anxiety bloomed, filling her like oxygen. Bella stepped back as if she feared what else she could possibly be capable of. Would she go for the woman's neck again? Would she try to finish what she had started? Without having to ask, she knew Edward would protect her from herself. They both knew that a death, to Bella, would be unforgivable. Something she may never be able to move past. So, Edward would do whatever he could in his power to prevent the loss of a human life.
Even if his methods were questionable.
"Is she … Is she …"
She couldn't get the question out. Speaking death out loud would make everything feel too real. She didn't even want to consider such a thing as a possibility.
She's so pale … nearly blue … Is she breathing? Am I just imagining the rise and fall of her chest? Could it be no more than wishful thinking?
"She's alive," Edward said as if he were reading her mind. "Just unconscious."
Thank God. Oh, thank God.
Bella held her chest, acting as if she were trying to catch her breath. She took a deep breath in, despite the action being unnecessary, and held it as if liking the way in which the breath made her lungs feel. For a moment, she was full and almost felt human.
I'm not a killer. She's okay. I'm full, and she's alive.
Confidence came then like a ripple against a calm shoreline. It was small and not powerful enough to be a fully developed wave. Perhaps her confidence would grow as she fed without leaving behind a body count and a long list of "missing" people.
Now she was confident but not confident enough to allow herself to become negligent. Today, she had been as careful as she could be, and she knew that as she became more practiced at her craft, she would grow increasingly careful until she could one day feed like Edward.
"How do you feel?" Edward asked as she still tried to process things.
She took a minute to answer, trying to formulate something coherent to respond with. Everything inside of her was a jumbled mess—a ball of feeling that was both untethered and unexplainable. Carefully, Edward lowered himself onto the ground so he could place the jogger supine on the grass. Bella watched the woman with guarded eyes, wishing she could reach out and pluck her from the world of unconsciousness. Bella knew once she saw the jogger's eyes meeting her gaze, she would be able to live with herself.
"I don't know how I feel," Bella finally decided on before she sat on the ground next to them, plucking blades of grass up with her bloodied nails.
In a raspy voice, tired from the strain of talking, Edward answered. "That's typical. This will take a while to grow used to, but … you're doing so well, Bella. I'm impressed."
Still, her eyes were entirely on the woman lying supine in front of her. "I honestly can't believe I was able to stop. I thought … I thought I would keep going until there was nothing left." After a moment, she added, "I wanted to. I wanted there to be nothing left."
Her body wanted there to be nothing left—not her heart and not her mind.
"For a moment, I was afraid of myself," Bella whispered before dropping her gaze to the grass brushing against her fingers.
"I'm here," Edward assured her. Although, these were words that didn't need to be said. "If you can't trust yourself yet, than trust me."
"I do trust you," she said instantly. "I do … but sometimes there's nothing that can be done. What if … what if next time, my control just isn't there."
"There's no point in wasting the present with worries of the future," he said simply as if that were enough.
All she could do now was fear the future that seemed promised for her. A life of endless nights and tortured days. A life of feeding from others' lives just to sustain herself. Was this something she wanted? Or was death the better option?
The present was so infused with so many worries regarding the future as well as the past. No longer could she live for today. That was too painful. Day by day seemed like an endless struggle that she wanted to disassociate from. Perhaps one day, she could wake up no longer a newborn. She would forget all about the heinous nature of these first few days of feeding and would feel like the woman she always knew herself to be.
Bella was a realist though—even when it hurt to be. These days were meant to be lived … even if each and every one of them were painful. Growth meant hardships, and nothing came without a price. Especially immortality.
Suddenly, there was movement from the jogger. Her eyelids fluttered as she choked on a breath. As soon as her eyes opened—wide, alert, and fearful—Bella let go of another breath that she didn't need.
Thank God. She's really alive … Oh, thank God.
Bella reached for her then, planning on placing a comforting hand on the woman's shoulder, but was met with an open mouth preparing to scream. Seemingly one step ahead of them both, Edward reached out and clamped his hand down over the woman's mouth, containing the sound of the scream against his palm.
"Now … what do we do?" Bella asked as she stared down at the woman.
Would she jog to the nearest police station to report the incident as soon as they let her go? Would she scream and attract attention? How could they afford to leave their meals alive?
All of her questions were quickly answered as Edward held the woman's face gently between his hands and spoke to her softly. His voice was just above a whisper and felt as soothing as a purr.
"You're all right now. You only tripped and fell. There's a scrap on your neck. Take care of it like a cut and eat well tonight."
Bella listened as he continued to speak to the woman, giving her instructions as to what to eat and drink to replenish herself after this loss of blood. Vaguely, she listened as he mentioned drinking extra water and eating iron-rich foods. B vitamins found in red meat and C vitamins found in fruits and vegetables. As if she were in a trance, the jogger listened, nodding along as if she were absorbing every word. In a way, as the jogger watched Edward, it felt as if her mind belonged to him. Edward was inside her mind, pulling the strings as she lay limply like a contorted puppet, waiting for the next pull of the string.
Suddenly, Bella couldn't watch anymore. With a downward gaze, she pulled away, meaning to walk toward the edge of the trail where she would stand and wait with her full stomach. Despite being full, Bella was the one who moved as if she were enervated. The jogger, in contrast, seemed full of life—bubbly even—as Edward finished off his list of instructions and helped her to stand.
"Don't go," Edward, meaning his words for Bella as he watched the jogger with intense, purposeful eyes. "You'll want to see this."
Guilt was starting to play at the corners of her mind as the hunger was no longer as prevalent. Nearly sated, there was too much room in her head for thought. Now, for the first time since she had changed, Bella was beginning to feel alone in her own mind. There was room for judgment now. Room for disappointment and disapproval.
Ignoring the change in Bella's mood, Edward took the jogger's hands and held them gently in his as he opened his mouth to speak again. His voice was rich and fluid, making every syllable sound as if it were pouring from his tongue like an aged wine.
"Go straight home and mention nothing of this. Take a few days off—pamper yourself at home. Watch a series you've been meaning to. Use this time for you. Solitude will be your best medicine. Do everything you desire. After all, you deserve this."
"… you deserve this." The words felt intolerable as Bella heard them. Of course, in Edward's stern yet sweet voice, she knew what he meant for the woman. She deserved to be pampered. She deserved a vacation. To Bella, however, the words sounded sinister. She deserves to be bitten. She deserves to become my meal.
For a moment, it seemed like it didn't matter whether or not Bella had killed the jogger. The damage felt as if it were already done. A human had been harmed, and while death wasn't the outcome, Bella theorized that there must be lasting effects following her feeding. Later, she would ask about them. Although, she wondered if it would be better not to know.
Ignorance was bliss after all. Knowledge could be a curse. Once she knew the truth, whatever the truth was, would it affect anything? There was a truth that was staring her blatantly in the face that she didn't want to come to terms with: she was a vampire, and vampires needed blood to survive.
Perhaps being altruistic wasn't a viable option. For a while, she could pretend to be a hero—fantasize that this lifestyle was beneath her—but at the end of each day, there would be one thing that rang true: she was a vampire, and this was her nature. How long can I get by with denying who I am? Will starving myself help anyone? Will it help me?
Edward released the woman, and she took a breath before jogging off, going in the direction she had come from while acting like nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Seeing the lightness in her steps made Bella's stomach turn. Perhaps she should feel grateful that nothing horrid had happened, but as she stood and watched the woman go, all she felt was guilt.
Hesitation in his heavy steps, Edward approached her. His pace was slow, as if he were trying to coax a skittish animal. Instinctively, she stepped back, as if she feared he would reach out and grab her, intent on locking her away somewhere. A place where she couldn't harm another soul while suppressing everything in her nature.
"You did well," he said in a raw voice. "More than well. Bella, that was perfect."
"Perfect?" she parroted. If distress wasn't filling her—overwhelming her—she imagined that a laugh would have broken through her lips. Something soft and jaded, expressing just how much she was beginning to hate herself.
"That was so …" Horrid. Nightmarish. Devastating. "… messy," she decided on. "Is it always that messy?"
He watched her for a moment, almost as if he were surprised by the direction of the conversation, before he shrugged. "You'll improve. It takes time. After today, you should feel proud."
Proud? Proud of what? Feeding from a human? Taking without killing? What's there to be proud of?
While she didn't feel pride, she did feel power. The feeling of power was overwhelming, coursing through her in a way that reminded her that she was far from human. Filled with someone else's blood, she felt as if she owned the world. It was as if everything was hers and all she had to do was reach out and take what she wanted.
In death, she had never felt so alive.
"What's wrong?" Now that she was distracted, lost in the mess of her thoughts, Edward reached out and wrapped his arm around her shoulder, pulling her near as he tucked her head beneath his chin. "Bella?"
"What if … what if I never feel like myself again? What if I become a stranger?"
"Do you worry that you will?" he asked in a strained voice, tired from the use of his vocal cords today. "Do you feel like a stranger in this moment?"
Bella was contemplative, quiet as she stared out at the daybreak. The park was now filling with sunlight, and soon, they would have to rush on.
Do I feel like a stranger? Or do I just feel like I should? Shouldn't this feel atrocious and foreign? How could I allow myself to fall into such a lifestyle so easily? Has blood brainwashed me? How different am I than the person I was? Am I different at all … or am I just pretending?
***********************************Snowed In**************************************************
Feeding never became easier. Every day was a battle as one of the living dead. Days were endless. Nights were restless. The hunger never stopped. It lurked like a grim reminder of what she was now and all that she could be in the future. It was something that preoccupied the mind and grated on her like the sting of withdrawal. While things were okay for now, that could all change overnight.
Edward was beside her—stoic and silent as he pretended to sip on a drink like a normal human. Under the dim bar lights, his skin appeared almost normal. The pale shade looked like a light, faded blue—something like paint watered down and ready for application. He was gorgeous. So much so that it was truly inhuman. Vampires were made to appeal to their prey—looks and all—and he appealed like no one else, practically glistening under the neon drink signs.
As Bella took in the crowd, she let herself smell the sweat, liquor, and extensive perfume and cologne. No one smelled authentic in bars like this. Everyone seemed to think loads of perfume and body mist and makeup was the only way to put their best foot forward for a crowd of strangers. It made Bella's nose twitch. Now that her senses were heightened almost painfully, every smell became more transparent.
So, when she came across a smell that she knew all too well, she found she could barely move. Silently, she clenched her drink, letting the sweat from the glass drip onto her irritated skin. Almost as if she were already expecting what she was about to see, she let her gaze slowly drift across the room, glacially, before landing on a familiar blond she thought had died in that basement with everyone else.
A/N: Oh shit!
Let me know what you all think! Love you guys!
