Chapter Two
Usually, you're meant to say no when a strange boy offers to show something to a member of the females species. Purely out of being aware and what with it being common sense and all. Well, yes, I know and understand that, but I'm curious. I'd follow a Muppet if it told me it could tell me who I really am. I step forward, batting away Dougie's palm, still no touching unless I say so, and I doubt I'll be putting that in to practice any time soon. He simply smirked at me, gesturing to follow on from him when he turned, heading up the staircase.
"This…" He began, pushing the door open, leading in to a small study like room. "… is my library."
"You have a library?" I felt my eyebrow raise involuntarily as I questioned him.
"Hey, you're not the only one to wonder why we're like this…" Dougie stated, ushering me in side the room quickly before closing the door behind us, seemingly a little nervous and uneasy about bringing me in this room. My eyes darted across the walls, all covered in book filled cases.
"Are you telling me, that every book in here is to do with…"I allowed my fingertips to trail across the spines of books nearest me.
"Every single one." He spoke, moving past me and pulling at one particular hardback, leather bound book, and placing it on the table in the centre of the room. I watched on, bemused as he opened it out, pages falling in to place randomly.
"Show me your brand." He demanded.
My what, now?
"The stamp." He explained. "The burn in your chest. What does it look like?"
Oh yeah, Like I'm going to show my chest. Nice try. Hello, I wasn't born yesterday. Dougie merely sighed and placed his hands at the bottom of his t-shirt, gripping it and pulling it over his head quickly.
Woah now, Nelly, not so fast-
I stop thinking briefly. All I see is the marking on the left hand side of his chest, burnt in to the otherwise flawless skin. I notice I've held my breathe and need to release the air once more. Having to physically tell myself to breathe regularly. My eyes remaining fixed on the burn, I open my mouth to speak, interrupted abruptly.
"Different clans mark their young. So they don't mix with other breeds." he rubbed at his scar absent-mindedly as he flicked a few pages more of the book. "I just wanted to know what clan you belong to."
"Clan? Like, family?" I asked, admittedly the thought did raise my hopes a little.
"Tribe." He corrected me. "Probably six or seven different families in each."
I open my shirt slightly and reveal as much of the brand as I can without exposing too much of myself. I look up and at the ceiling when I realise he's looking, examining, his fingers centimetres away from contact.
"They're identical." He mused. "Except for the breeding sign..."
"What does that mean?" My gaze meets his once more.
"Well... The triqueta, the clan sign means unity... That's the mark of our clan. But each family have different brands, separate. Prevents in breeding within a family, and avoiding untrustworthy characters within the tribal mass." Is it just me or does this boy sound like he's memorised one too many dictionary's. I flinch slightly when he scowls and snarls. Okay, probably shouldn't even take the mick in side my own head. Honestly, do I get no privacy?
I bit down on my lip, feeling Dougie's finger tip press against my scar, trailing around the circular outline before moving on to the other symbols, seemingly unaware this was making me a little uneasy, to say the least.
"I was marked just after mum died." He spoke quietly, his eyes closed, the flat of his palm now covering my scar entirely, still and unmoving.
"Were you close?" I asked.
"I don't remember. I was two years old." Dougie shrugged, his tone monotonous and sad. He opened his eyes slightly, squinting, apparently a little sensitive to the bright sunlight that heralded the sky outside. he adjusted quickly, eyes fixed to mine. He smiled, apologetic I though, and removed his hand, letting it fall to his side, functionless once more.
"I'm sure your dad told you about her though.." I piped up.
"No." he sighed, pausing, eyes looking up to the heavens. "He died with mum."
Fck. Way to go ,Claire.
What a twt.
Honestly!
I may as well have just stabbed him in the heart repeatedly.
"it's okay, Claire." he attempted a smile, which lasted all of twelve seconds. "I can't change anything. I'm over it."
I'm rather scared of asking how it came about now... You never know how a person will react to such a question. And how can he say he's over it? I've never had parents. And I'm certainly not over that.
"Dad was already married to Patty at the time." Dougie started. I should make him ask ym permission before he delves in to my head.. Invasion of privacy. Good grief! "Mum left me here one night. Dad went after her. Turns out she was on the run or something. And well... They just didn't come back."
"Why was she on the run?" I questioned, forgetting myself completely.
"Because she was one of us." he replied bluntly. "Vampires aren't so popular in this day and age."
"Don't say that!" I snapped, stepping away from him immediately. "Don't say that word!"
"Don't say you're in denial." Dougie snorted, rolling his eyes and folding his arms and looking overall rather amused.
"No, I'm sane." I stated, walking towards the door. "You are a loon."
"Explain the blood then." He called as I opened the door. "Why do we have to have it?"
"it's a disease. We're sick." I muttered, not looking back as I walked out of the room, the door still open behind me.
"Girls." Heard Dougie mutter before slamming the door after me.
"Lunatics." I mimicked his tone of voice. I turned round out of instinct. The hairs on the back of my neck standing on end as the door flew open. Perhaps I've upset him. He stormed out, grabbing me by the wrist, more or less dragging me back in to the library.
"Get back in here now." He hissed.
"Do I have a choice?" I spat, admittedly a little sulkily.
"Sit." He pointed to the chair at the table. "Read." He opened the book he had been looking at previously out at a certain specific page.
"No." I spoke, grinning sarcastically, sitting back in the chair, crossing one leg over the other.
"Why are you being like this?" He sighed, sounding rather exasperated when I refused to meet his gaze.
"because some freak show is holding me against my will because he think's he's a vampire." I spat.
"But you are!" he yelled.
"I stand corrected." I snarled. "A Freak show who is determined to show me we're vampires." I leant forward in my seat. "Prove it."
"I don't have to prove anything to you." He stated.
"Then I'll just be going." I smiled and got up, walking to the door again. That door seems to be like my best friend. We've seen a lot of each other in the past ten minutes. I heard Dougie fumble around the room behind me.
"Claire.," he was so close. "I'll prove it." He whispered in to my ear. I turned to face him, his expression dull and overcast. Okay.. I looked down at the object in his hands, glinting in a rather unnatural light. I gasped suddenly, unable to defend myself when I felt a sharp metallic pain tear in to my stomach. I coughed, holding on to Dougie as I slumped to the floor, taking him with me as he kneels beside me.
"Y…Y…you just- " I choked, looking down at the jewelled handle if what I could only guess was a dagger.
"Just watch." He spoke calmly. "if this isn't proof enough then I don't know what is." With these words, he pulled the blade from my stomach slowly. He lifted my shirt up, making sure I was watching. My erratic breathing began to calm. If anything, it was a lot more controlled than what I remember. The wound itself felt cold, and it wasn't until now that I realized I wasn't bleeding. The gash was dry. And wait…
No…
"Is that good enough?" Dougie smirked, pressing his hands down on the hole that was beginning to close, as if I could feel the tissue knitting together once more. I was silent, slapping his hands away from me as I sat up straight, placing my palms over my middle and pulling my shirt back down again.
"It hurts." I whispered.
"It'll be bruised for a few days." He shrugged dismissively. "Aren't you glad I was right? You'd be screwed if I wasn't."
Oh yeah.
Go ahead.
Laugh at the fatal wound you inflicted on me.
"You stabbed me!" I shrieked. "You could have at least asked me beforehand!"
"Oh yeah, I was really going to ask your permission to stab a knife in to your gut. I may as well have just kicked myself in the balls." He snapped, raising his eyes to the heavens.
"Point taken." I mumbled reluctantly.
"So…" he stood up, looking down at me. "Are you going to be the girl I thought you were, or not?"
"Well, who do you think I am?" I asked, taking the hand he offered out to me, pulling me up from the floor.
"The vampyric female with one hell of a scent, and an attitude that would make blood curdle." He said, grinning at me.
"Hey, I bath everyday!" I waggled my index finger at him pointedly.
He merely shook his head and sighed deeply. "You, have a lot to learn."