Chapter Twelve - One Year Later
“So tell me all about her.” Luna demanded as she teased her
on-again-off-again lover. He’d just
returned from the market with a love-struck puppy look all over his face. Which, she needed to mention, Luna had yet to
see when he looked at her.
“Her
name is Alexiria; ask me how I know it.”
While he spoke, he rapidly shelved food products, the look on his face
growing more and more strained by the second.
As he slowed, Luna knew something was wrong even before he faced her
with raw agony etched on his face. “I
could read her, and she’s like me. I got
bold and tried to introduce myself, but she vanished after I told her
everything.”
His
last words were forced, a far cry from his usual upbeat tone of voice. Luna made it across the room just as his
knees gave out, and they sank to the floor in a tight embrace.
She
held him to her until he quieted, noting how his scent changed from rain to
stormy weather with his tumultuous emotions.
Soon after, he mumbled into her shirt, every word vibrating against her
skin. “What was that?” She asked, backing up to see his face.
“Am
I that unlovable?” He repeated in a dull
whisper. One hand threaded its way
through his spiked hair while the other knotted in the hem of his shirt
nervously, as if afraid of the answer.
“She left without even looking me in the eyes. Not even a glance.”
“How
could she do that to you?” Luna
exclaimed, realizing why Terry was so upset.
For his kind, a denied mating meant another hundred years before another
chance at a bond, but an unrealized one…
If no decision is made, denied or accepted, the men of the species could
no longer mate or enjoy the company of a woman ever again. The woman just would never find a soul mate;
they weren’t as generally affected. “She
should know better! You’d better tell me
who she is and I’ll track her down and…”
“I
don’t care.”
Luna
gaped at him and the hopeless tone of voice she heard. “What do you mean? How could you even say that?”
Terry
shrugged and traced the design on the floor, “I’m tired of being mentally
screwed over. I tried to love Erin and
she was taken from me; I love you, but you’re not my soul mate… Damn the fates for that. If Alexiria won’t have me, then I’m done
putting my heart on the line for happiness.
All I ever get is true agony.”
She
shot him a reproachful look that forced him to answer, “What am I supposed to
do, Luna? She won’t love me, and after
two weeks you can’t love me.”
Ironically
enough, the door bell rang at that exact moment, stunning them both into
silence. Luna could feel deep inside
that the person outside was the very person of their conversation, and that
scared her. She didn’t have any clue
where she was going after she wasn’t needed anymore.
Terry
pulled them both to their feet and gave Luna a quick hug; he then proceeded
down the hallway to meet his future.
Okay, maybe not his real future, but close enough… Alexiria would bring change. She brushed away a stray drop of liquid from
her face and slipped into her room to start packing.
A
while later, there was a knock on her door; Terry and a tall dark haired girl
with the same eyes as Terry were the culprits.
They looked really close as already, as if they’d been dating for years
and not hours. It was somewhat sickening
that they were so happy with each other when Luna had given up her one big
chance at that very same thing.
Not
really sickening, but unfair. A wave of
loneliness made her eyes prickle again, but she fought them; barely. “Hey Terry, what do you need?” she choked
out.
“I
wanted you to meet Alexiria. She’s a
wonderful person and totally worth getting to know,” Terry started, “and I
wanted to let you know that you’re still welcome to eat and stuff with us.”
Luna
sighed, and hesitantly stated what she knew would hurt him the most, “It’s my
time to leave, aisuru, and I have to go tonight. I’ve looked up the time for departure back to
the real world.”
“What?” Terry stuttered in shock as he abruptly
dropped Alexiria’s hand. “You can’t
leave… I mean, it’s fine for you to be
here. Where will you go?”
“I
don’t know. I might try to find
Merrick’s old friends and see if they know of any way for me to help.”
Alexiria
moved to a different place in the house, as if to give them privacy for their
chat. Seemingly, she had the better idea
because Luna wanted to throttle the girl at this point for making Terry have to
go through all of this.
“There’s
a hotel in Sorchester; I know that’s where you told me they resided. Are you sure you must leave?” Terry asked in disbelief. Luna added more to earlier thought- if
Alexiria did anything to hurt him she really would strangle her.
“I
have to; you’ve found your paradise, and now it’s time for me to find mine,”
she answered, now actively holding back tears.
The bag on her shoulder dropped to the floor, and Terry flew at her to
embrace her deeply.
“Really,
don’t hesitate to ask me for anything.
Anything that you need or want; you have to call every day,” he murmured
into her hair, “and if you ever see your father again, uh, could you ask him
about Erin?” The last part was
awkward. Erin was Luna’s sister that
disappeared after someone, Luna’s father, had seen them together and hated his
kind enough to hurt his own daughter over it.
And
Luna thought he hadn’t loved her; at least her dad never tried to eliminate
her.
By
this point, they were standing in the entry way still entangled in each other’s
arms. Luna nodded to accept his final
request and pushed away from him. Then,
she sadly left the second best friend behind as she walked out the door; never
looking back.
Later,
as she entered to portal to Sorchester, she thought she saw Terry in the throng
of people, but the space closed around her and she saw nothing else. The sun broke that visual deprivation, and
its harsh rays burned her eyes. The
sunlight in the alternate world was toned down and wasn’t as bright.
As
she entered into the real part of the city, the sights and sounds amazed her
once again. Sorchester always bustled
with activity, but around Mardi Gras it was at least ten times worse, or
better; whichever you preferred. Lights
were strung up in preparation, and people mingled at street vendors selling
food, trinkets, and other fun stuff.
However,
Luna wasn’t here for the activity, or the time with people; she was here to
meet with Luc and his posse. That was
the easy part; what came next, the harder part, was getting them to let her
join them. If they were truly Merrick’s
friends they probably wouldn’t give her the time of day, and may even choose to
hurt her for revenge.
But
she wouldn’t think of that, not even if it truly got down to that. Thinking on that, she moved hesitantly down
the only street without colored lights to the house that matched the number on
a scrap of paper in her hand. Their
group mansion was supposedly scary during the day, but in her opinion, the
night time wasn’t great either.
She
pressed the intercom in the small room as the sign suggested and waited for an
answer. “What’s your business here?” a voice finally asked from a
speaker in the ceiling above her.
“Um,
I need to talk to Luc because- well, I just need to talk to him…” Luna stammered nervously as the light
flickered off in response to the button.
The door swung open, though, and true to his word, Luc stood in front of
her wearing a weary expression.
“What
is it, Mon amie?” he asked in an equally exhausted voice. His red hair hadn’t grown as much as it
should’ve and his skin was very pale.
Luc had never been chunky, at least he wasn’t when she last saw him, but
now he had lost a massive amount of weight and bordered on the human standard
of anorexia. Could vampires be anorexic?
“Luc? Is everything all right?” Luna asked curiously. Luc merely shook his head and turned,
insinuating that she should follow him.
The door slammed heavily against the steel frame, and the hall was
thrown into pitch black darkness.
He
led her to another steel doorway and keyed in an access code, allowing the door
to admit them. They entered, the door
closed ominously again, and a dim light blinked on, revealing three other
haggard teens on a small couch. Luc
settled into the arm chair to one side and gestured Luna to sit in the
opposite.
“Why
have you chosen to return, ma chérie? Do
you understand what happened after you left?”
Luc asked. His voice was stern
and obviously unhappy at her previous actions.
“Merrick now has an order for death just about hanging over his head
because of you.”
“How
was it my fault?” Luna fought against a
wave of pain at the mention of his name, but tried not to twitch externally and
betray her emotions. She’d never quite
gotten him out of her system.
“You
know very little of our culture if you must ask that,” the amber eyed man said
from the end of the couch. His eyes were
stunning, and his hair was the rich color of cocoa, but he was barely more
substantial than Luc with more defined muscles.
“Be
kind, Jerémie, she had no reason to pay attention to us. Elle est humaine,” Luc scolded gently, “She’s
very human, and that is why I helped her leave Merrick.”
“So
now it comes out!” the tiny one exclaimed angrily, “Did you know he was going to
be so volatile if you removed her from the equation?” The boy wasn’t tall by nature, but he had a
very tiny frame, and that made him the most emaciated of the group.
“I
wish no intentional harm to my friends, Jean-Paul.”
“May
I speak?” the quieter one asked over various conversations in Cajun-English
that had flamed from Luc statement. When
Luc nodded and silenced the group, he spoke, “Luna, right? I’m Ràmone; and this is Jean-Paul and
Jerémie. Luc is the leader, per se, of
the group because he is the least swayed by biases. Do you truly know what we are?”
Luna
nodded and Ràmone continued, “Good; now I’m going to tell you where we fit into
society. We’re the police force for the
entire Sorchester area as appointed by Rorecassia, the supreme ruler of the
entire vampire race.”
Then,
the boy identified as Jerémie added to that thought, as if they shared one
group mind, “When someone turns and cannot control the bloodlust we must step
in and mediate the situation. We hunted
our friend for eight months… and it was the worst part of my life.”
Luna
gasped in shock, realizing the true weight of his words. Jean-Paul elaborated on that point, “When we
found him, he was so far gone that we were attacked; we were also forced to
defend ourselves.”
Luc
finished it off, “We almost killed him, and the fact also remains that if he
bites a human we will still have to kill him anyway.”
Suddenly,
silence fell like a rock in a bucket of water- heavy and fast. Luna looked to the floor, ashamed of her
guilt over a situation that wasn’t her doing.
Or was it? Did she damn him to this
hell by letting him change all alone?
That was his one true fear, and she just let it become a reality…
“Please,”
Luna began, her voice breaking in the middle, “I never meant to hurt him so much… I thought he’d get over me and find someone
better for him.”
“You
failed!” Luc exclaimed suddenly, “And
now we have to condemn the man we consider a brother, so the question is, how
are you going to make it up to us?”
“I
want to help you in any way I can, and not just because you asked. The question is: are you willing to work with
me?”
* * * * *
Dear Merrick,
In
light of recent circumstances, I feel that it is better if you don’t know I am
leaving until you can no longer stop me.
Eventually, I’m going to die, and I don’t want you to mourn for me; if I
have to hurt both of us to do so, then that is how it is. I don’t love you enough to deal with your
problems along with mine. This is how it
must be.
Luna.
Emotionlessly, Merrick folded the old note back into
fourths and cleanly slid it deep in his dark jean pocket. He then pulled his black uniform coat over
bare shoulders and tied his black hair behind his head. So starts another night as head chef of the
night brigade at the Renaissance Embassy hotel.
He
thought it was ironic that he saw less of his friends, currently bitter enemies,
now that he lived in a basement suite of a hotel in Sorchester than he ever
had. Considering his actions up until
the last two months, Merrick was surprised they even let him live. If being cast out of their social grace was
really living…
In
exile, Merrick couldn’t confide in anyone, couldn’t come in contact with his
kind, and couldn’t feed more than once a day.
Instead, a pint was surreptitiously delivered to his front door ever
night before he woke; each one bearing the total amount of days in exile.
I
guess they figured that it would push him to madness faster by telling him how
screwed he really was every day. The
numbers were hellishly depressing as a brutal reminder of his past
transgressions. Each tag had one final
destination: to be crinkled up and trashed.
He downed the bottle quickly and threw it to the recycle box.
One
you got used to the icy temperature and the biting hunger pains from the lack
of a sufficient amount of sustenance, the bottled blood wasn’t quite so
bad. Unfortunately, he could even see
himself putting up with it for at least a few years; even if it was his least
favorite type…
Upstairs,
the chaos of the kitchen comforted him.
Wait-staff flitted about, grabbing various items of clothing before
leaving the much smaller night shift alone.
Merrick’s brigade only consisted of four others because the night shift
was much calmer. This allowed them to be
close to each other yet stay away from him.
Ready
to immerse himself in something other than pain, he called his staff together
and issued their tasks of the night.
Some made food, some delivered, and some even made sure that everything
tasted good. His team was good at what
they did, and it made his job even easier.
A
knock sounded on the door before it was shoved open, and Merrick ended up face
to face with hotel event planner. The
very one he hated the most of the entire administrational staff… He motioned for Merrick to join him in the
hallway, and he followed diligently.
“So,
Mon ami, how are you?” Peter asked jubilantly, clearly a man too happy for his
own good. Merrick almost decided to make
good of that aura that whispered ‘pick on me’ every time Peter walked up before
the man before him did the strangest thing.
He
fell to his knees, “Please! I need you
at the dance next week… Your pastries
are the best in the universe, and no one will come if you don’t make them.”
“There’s
no way in hell I’m going to make pastries for a hotel dance. You remember the last one don’t you?” Merrick accused darkly, trying not to shudder
at the memory of the last dance at the hotel…
“Sir… It’s my
last night in town, and all I want is a dance from you… Someone who makes such beautiful cakes has to
be a wonderful person,” the cherry haired adolescent stated from in front of
him.
All he saw was another opportunity to take blood, and
that excited him. He forced himself to
focus and hesitantly agreed by taking the girl’s hand and leading her into the
middle of the floor during the beginning of a convenient slow song. He knew it was a bad idea.
By the end, she was asleep on her feet from the slow
dance’s rocking motions, and her head fell against his chest. Her blood pulsed enticingly as it matched
his, or did his match hers? He didn’t
know; all he knew was that he was going to break tonight. Of all the times, tonight was the worst place
to lose control.
He pulled away from the girl, hearing her unhappy
words at being ripped away so callously, but he ignored them as red began to
wash over the room. Red? Of course, she’d fallen against the table
behind her and shards of glass pinned her fingers to the floor while tears
streamed down her face.
Tears of crimson…
Crimson? He
struggled to focus on control- even keeping the screams inside his head was a
step forward. Or was it? Then he felt it, the pull of unconsciousness
in the back of his mind, like an itch he couldn’t scratch.
He fought it because he was always consumed by
bloodlust when he was unconscious.
Always. Only asleep was he safe
from doing something stupid. It was a
hard battle…
And he was about to lose badly when strong arms lifted
his emaciated body into them and sped away to his room in the basement. He couldn’t tell who it was, only that he’d
saved him, and for that he was grateful.
However, before he could thank the mysterious stranger, he passed out
cold…
“It
was an utter disaster…” Peter breathed discouraged, “and I don’t even remember
what happened…” Merrick winced at how
close the man was to unlocking his memories- ones that could never be free.
“Perhaps
it was that bad?” he choked out while fighting the barrage of memories now
assaulting him. They hurt like the day
they were made…
Knocks on the door…
Loud voices… Why wouldn’t they go
away? He paced to the door, noticing how
sated he felt for the first time in a while.
He paused to wonder why, and images of the previous night burst through
his mind.
His eyes widened in horror as he struggled to see if
he’d broken his probation. He couldn’t
remember doing anything wrong, but his memories had been selective before… Hadn’t they?
God, why couldn’t he remember?
He moved to the door silently and prayed he had no
clue of who was at the door and it was a solicitor. No such luck…
When he swung the door open, Luc stood at the door flanked by Jerémie
and Ràmone with Jean-Paul against the stairwell door keeping guard.
“You came close to breaching oath, écume…” Luc stated
with a deadly tone, “and I don’t know how you were able to get past it, but you
still have no death warrant.”
“I did not know that the council sent their flunkies
for such… occasions…” Merrick
sarcastically spat back at his previous friends. All of them wore an unpleasant expression on
their face that probably mirrored his own hostile features.
How he wished they would trust him again, but with
more bouts like that, they were more likely to shoot him in cold blood than to
ever listen to him seriously again. Luc
turned and walked to the stairs, closing the door tightly behind him, leaving
the other three standing there in shock.
Whether it was shock that Luc left or that Merrick would be so hateful
towards him, it was a more entertaining mask than the ones before.
“Merrick, we just want to help you…” Ràmone sighed wearily. Then he too turned and left; Jean-Paul
followed. Merrick used this opportunity
to stare down Jerémie, the only remaining of the council’s discipline group.
“Are you here to demean me too, Jerémie, even when we
were friends the longest?” Merrick asked
in a deadpan voice.
He looked to the floor cautiously, “I never wanted to
hurt you, Mon sang frère… I- Here, this
is for you. A stockpile so you never get
that low again.” In his hands was a
paper bag filled with the very bottles he’d been receiving for the past few
months. The very thing he wanted to
accept the most.
He couldn’t take it; not like this. “I don’t need your charity…” he answered
roughly, wondering how much more civilized talking his voice could take. “Just leave.”
It
still hurt… Jerémie was a kind person by
nature, but if the council had found out about his gift, the only one in
trouble would be him. He was still too
attached to his former friends to want them hurt. Even when they’d beat him almost to death the
first time after his change he hadn’t fought back; he didn’t even defend
himself against them, feeling like he’d deserved it.
“I
will agree to this as long as I am not forced to attend as a guest,” Merrick
compromised while Peter looked on with a concerned face. Generally when someone zones off, you get a
little worried, so he was fine…
“Thank
you so much, Mon ami! Au revoir!” And Peter was gone in a flash, leaving
Merrick return to the kitchen to work on something productive. He counted down the hours until he could return
to his room away from people, and working was the only way to make it through
the day. Cooking was his life, if only
he could be free from the other crap before that.
Sometime
later, the phone rang, and one of his staff answered it before he could tell
them to ignore it. Fortunately, he
didn’t have to speak to anyone.
Unfortunately, it was a call requesting his presence at the front desk
to personally receive his paycheck.
Merrick
didn’t particularly care about the money, unable to leave the hotel because of
the amount of people in the city anyway, so getting his pay didn’t affect
him. However, if the boss called and
wanted to see him, it had to be for more than just that. It always was.
Grudgingly,
he replaced the ingredients that he was using to their original locations,
peeled his gloves off, and left the kitchen.
He walked slowly up the stairs, dreading the room he was going to be in
next.
Large
groups of people still made him dizzy as the scent of their blood wrapped
around him and enticed him for just one taste…
Not now… He shoved all of his
focus into that one thought and felt the pressure ease from his skull; now he
only had a mild headache instead of a full on attack.
He
thanked fate in that moment for keeping the place so empty during this time of
day, no longer believing in anything else.
God abandoned him by making him a monster, and destiny lied by giving
and taking away the one person who made him forget the first part.
Damn
it all if the binding symbols weren’t still glowing on his forearm exactly the
same as the morning they appeared. They
had even appeared the very day before his disastrous birthday like a sick omen.
“What
do you need me for?” Merrick asked, his
voice like sandpaper. He didn’t really
speak to anyone, choosing to bark orders or use motions to instruct his team,
so his voice sounded funny to him. Plus,
he’d already spoken to Peter today, so his throat ached from the unfamiliar
action.
“Ah! Merrick, ca va?” the manager asked happily,
as if he really cared what the answer was.
Ted had been the night manager since Merrick started work, but he’d only
met the guy once, and it barely counted since four months ago he still wasn’t
functioning on a superior level.
Whatever the case, Ted didn’t top his list of favorite people.
Asking
Merrick how he was is, and always will be, a stupid question when every day was
a living hell. “Cut to it, Ted; what do
you need?” Merrick growled using a tone
far more forgiving to his underworked vocal chords.
Ted
laughed at his hostility and started to speak again, but Merrick didn’t hear a
word of it. The door had slid open to
admit a thin, average height woman. She
was apparently trying to blend in, but wearing a long sleeved trench coat that
fell to her knees in the middle of summer wasn’t the best way to do so.
Her
face was covered in shadow as she kept her gaze locked on the floor, leaving
Merrick to determine that she wasn’t supermodel beautiful. In fact, she didn’t really stand out
feature-wise at all… but he couldn’t take his eyes off of her. Powerlessly, he was forced to stand and watch
her in awe, wondering why she had that much power over him.
Vaguely,
he noticed Ted shaking his head, laughing, but not even that could break his
attention. That is, nothing helped until
she made her way to the front desk, getting dangerously close to touching
him. He jolted over to the side, knowing
that being closer to humans meant the lure was stronger- like baiting a hook
for a fish.
When
he could hear past the thumping of his own heart, he listened to the woman
talk, and swore she even sounded familiar…
That ended quickly. She stated
her name as Karen Ava, and Merrick dropped his line of thinking immediately.
“Alright,
Ms. Ava, that’s going to be five hundred thirty-six dollars and fifteen cents
for your stay of five nights.” Ted was
quick on the uptake, obviously noting that Merrick was uncomfortable, and got
the transaction completed quickly. He
hated to be out of control; the faster she was gone the better…
The
woman reached into her purse and handed Ted the total in cash, an action that
resulted in her sleeve riding up from her wrist. Merrick’s eyes widened as he saw the swirling
opposite of his own arm, stopping at the first letter of his name where the
sleeve ended. Realization washed over
him like a brutal wave in the sea…
She
noticed him staring at her arm and pulled the sleeve back in place, meeting his
eyes for the first time. Recognition
flared through her delicate features. It
was then that Merrick knew he had to get out of there. He couldn’t deal with her now; not when he
already couldn’t handle his life.
When
she looked away to pay, he ran as fast as he could until he reached the kitchen
once again. He bolted the door, not
knowing who he was keeping out, and stood against it with his eyes closed,
breathing heavily.
His
staff eventually returned back to work, save the one who was closer to him than
the others. Jeff watched him with
concern until he finally opened his eyes.
“If you need the night off, patron, I can handle the rest of the team.”
“Why
do you think I need a night off?”
Merrick asked angrily, unsure at whom he was more upset. He hated himself for not being able to deal
with an ex-girlfriend, a word that sounded so odd from his mind, so he was
lashing out to hide that pain. Maybe it
was true that some wounds never heal…
“Not
saying that…” he answered innocently, “I just figured you wouldn’t want them to
see you like this. If you need time, go
ahead.” Jeff then sat on the edge of the
counter behind him to face Merrick, who still panted against the door.
“If
I didn’t know better, I’d say you know more about me than you let on…” Merrick growled in challenge, “So you might
want to hide that knowledge somewhere safe, or I’ll beat you for knowing…” He then realized how exhausted he was and
spoke again in a gentler tone, “Maybe I do need the night off…”
“Then
go; I’m fine taking over here.” Jeff
stated calmly. He then got off of the
counter and moved to call the group together and inform them of their deal. Merrick used that time to slip through the
door and down the stairs.
Inside
his room, he let his carefully leashed emotions overtake him as he fell to his
knees. Blurred memories of Luna and his
past year fought for control as he was slowly drowned in anguish and pain. In all essence, the panic attack that he’d be
avoiding had finally gotten to him.
When
the sun rose, and he succumbed to sleep, he was still on the floor shaking; he
was emptied of all emotion except pain.
Pain was particularly abundant.
At least he was used to it…
He
didn’t know what was coming, and that was the bad thing. He hated to be out of control, but he seemed
to be getting used to it. The future was
unclear to him- frankly, that scared him to death.
* * * * *
Once
her room was satisfactorily set up and unpacked, Luna collapsed on her bed and
stared at the very symbols that she had lost everything for. Was that really Merrick earlier? He’d looked so different, and terrible, that
she hadn’t noticed it was him until he’d realized the same.
She
clutched her phone anxiously and dialed a number burned into her memory
forever. Terry picked up on the first
ring, answering with a thick accent; one he never used unless something was
wrong. “Terry, it’s Luna. What’s wrong?” Luna asked, worried that the woman had, and
she used the term woman lightly, hurt him in some way.
“Luna! Thank God you’re alright…” Terry breathed,
sounding relieved, “How have you been?”
“Were
you worried?” Luna asked quietly. Why would he be worried? He had her,
so he should be fine.
He
sighed on the other end of the phone, “Why wouldn’t I be worried? You’ve been gone for a week without one phone
call… You know better.”
“I
guess I do…” Luna trailed off
quietly. The last reserves of her
strength began to wane, and she burst into tears. “Terry…
I had to hear your voice; I saw Merrick today, and I feel so guilty.”
“Guiltier
than when you visited his friends?” He
asked expectantly. She started to ask
how he knew, but he cut her off, “Of course I knew where you were going. We’re always going to be connected because of
all we shared.”
“It
was so bad…” she responded, “He was so thin, emaciated even, and he looked like
he was on the edge and about to topple off and disappear forever. It’s entirely my fault!”
“Now,
now, Luna- wasn’t it you who left him?
Why are you freaking out?” Terry
asked, “Shouldn’t he be the one worse for wear?”
That
stopped her. Had he been hurting as much
as her? Is that why he ran off? She’d been selfish to only think of her
feelings, and now that she was focused on his she could see where Terry was
coming from.
“Okay,
I think I can see your point and calm down.
Thanks, aisuru, for everything…”
Luna answered quietly. Terry then
told her to be safe and happy before hanging up. Her quiet tears eventually put her to sleep.
The
next evening, Merrick was slow to awaken, and even when he was awake, he only
stared at the ceiling, wondering what his so-called vita cruor was doing eight
floors above him.
Trying
a skill he’d never felt necessary to use, Merrick reached out for her
mind. To his chagrin, though they
shouldn’t still be connected so well, he was instantly linked.
All
around him, the darkness of his room faded into a smaller room with welcoming
orange walls and the light of a harsh lamp across the room. He felt everything she did, and apparently he
saw and thought like her too. Right now,
the only emotion she was feeling was sadness, and it swamped him like a lead
weight; did he feel this much pain on a daily basis too?
Ironically
enough, she was clutching a small wooden frame in her hands. It was a simple cut of wood surrounding a
picture, nothing more; however, the picture it contained was different. Somehow, a picture of him looking at the sky
with a thoughtful and hopeful expression was the one picture that was most
special to Luna.
Why? He thought perplexedly. She was just staring intently at the picture,
wondering how he was feeling right now.
He heard her call herself selfish in her mind, and he fought to keep
quiet. He was the selfish one- intruding
on her mind like this…
He
looked so carefree that day… Had he
realized then that the good times were going to end? If he had, would he have made the best of it? Would he have really told her what he thought
of her and how much she was an integral part of his life?
Luna’s
vision then clouded with tears as she clutched the frame to her chest
lovingly. Merrick didn’t know why it
hurt her so much to think about him considering she left him and not the other
way around. He felt an odd urge to
comfort her even though he hurt inside too…
However,
just as that though passed through his mind he was pulled back to his own
body. Dazed, he stared at the ceiling
once again for a brief moment before he felt hunger cramps and realized he hadn’t
taken any blood in before attempting his metaphysical feat. If he was able to feed normally this wouldn’t
have happened; yet another way his past had damned him to living hell.
Merrick
cursed his, in essence, probation officers, the very people who used to be his
friends as he forced his weak body to move.
He lurched painfully to the door, stopping several times to fight to
keep standing. Eventually, he made it
there; it was a very small room.
However,
today didn’t seem to be his day. When he
peeled the door open with last reserves of strength, he found out that his only
source of food was lying on its side oozing across the front hallway. The numbered tag glittered cruelly in the
faded light from his suite, the crimson stain as accusatory as the number
itself.
He
fell to his knees soundlessly as the alluring smell of blood screamed through
his senses. He upended the open bottle
over his mouth and gulped it down greedily; he was still starving when the last
drop dripped from the bottle, but at least he felt stronger. These days, it didn’t take much to be
stronger when he was so weak all the time.
Resigned,
he struggled to his feet and went inside to get a towel to mop up his front
porch, even though all he wanted to do was lick up every drop that had
spilled. He wasn’t going to be
undignified again- he’d gone too long in that feral state, and he wasn’t going
back again. The sooner the mess was
clean the better…
By
the time everything was clean, Merrick was already a few minutes late for his
shift. He got to his feet to leave and
the room spun, but he remained steady.
The night shift didn’t get very many orders, most people being awake
during the day, so he figured he could manage.
Upstairs,
the kitchen was dead silent until he walked in.
His staff stared at him for a few seconds, and then they went back to
work, this time talking and joking around with each other. Merrick watched them perplexedly; he wondered
why they were more comfortable when he was around. Yeah, he must’ve hired the crazies, but they
were good at what they did…
Today,
he took a moment to really notice the group he’d hired to work for him. It seemed they worked like a family inside of
the group, so that even if one did something stupid everyone was able to
support that person. It was really
impressive that a bond that strong could be forged in a handful of months.
Proving
that tonight really was going to be the night from hell, the new guy, Dean, was
cutting bread for early orders of French toast when he missed and sliced his
hand open. The scent of blood
immediately filled the air.
“Merde!”
the Cajun cursed as he held his other hand against the cut. The other’s laughed at his stupidity, because
no experienced chef cut their hand open and didn’t get laughed at, not realizing
that they were the only ones laughing.
That simple, tiny cut was enough to shatter Merrick’s hard earned
control.
He
staggered back into the counter behind him, only pausing to notice the one
person who was concerned about him. Jeff
shot him a questioning look, and then nodded, wordlessly telling Merrick to
leave if he needed to. Using that as his
chance, he slipped out of door to lean on the stairway wall.
Merrick
felt the bloodlust threatening him, and fought to stay conscious; bad things
happened when he blacked out, and he couldn’t afford to let that happen
again. With shaking fingers, a knife was
produced from his pocket, and he used the thin blade to slice down his arm; the
familiar burn serving to keep him functioning long enough to get to his room. Blood dripped from his forearm onto the
concrete below him while he braced on the wall, breathing erratically.
A
floor above him, Luna stopped as she felt a tug of urgency from the back of her
mind. She instantly knew something was
wrong, but she didn’t know what. Then
she had a flash of someone half stumbling-half falling down the set of service
stairs she’d investigated earlier, and she was off.
When
she found the location of her vision, the hall looked like a war scene. Multiple trails of blood led from a spot near
the wall to the edge of the stairs and down them, stopping at Merrick’s
crouched form. The blood was from
multiple cuts down his arms, seemingly made by the knife clutched in his right
hand, and that surprised her because she thought he was done with that ugly habit.
“Merrick?”
she asked cautiously as she knelt beside his shuddering form. She brushed stray strands of hair away from
his face and noticed that they were soaked in sweat, as if he was fighting off
some disease.
“Don’t
touch me…” he growled, watching her accusingly, “Your condescending gaze isn’t
needed.” He tried to push himself away
from the ground, but immediately fell back to his knees, “If you would’ve just
let me die all those years ago…” He
trailed off weakly as another attempt to stand failed as before.
Without
answering his condemning questions, she helped him stand by leaning on
her. It was then, when she realized that
he no longer weighed more than her, that she finally saw how skinny he’d
gotten. He was light against her side as
she tried again to help him, “Where do you live now? Where can I take you? I want to help.”
“You’ve
helped enough for one lifetime,” he spat weakly as he pulled a card key out of
his pocket and drew her hand over it, “I live in the suite just beyond the
door. Just open the door, shove me in,
and leave the key on the doorstep.”
“I’m
not leaving you now, Merrick; you need medical attention. I’d don’t know that much about your… kind…
but I know that losing blood is bad for everyone,” Luna stated while moving
towards the landing door he’d indicated to her.
He
took a pained breath. “The cuts aren’t
bleeding anymore anyway… I should make a
few more to stay awake…” He spoke, as if
conversing with himself. He reached to
break the skin again with the knife that was still in his hand, but Luna pulled
it out of his weak fingers and snapped it shut.
“That’s
enough, Merrick; we’re almost there.”
She used the card to get them into his room before triple bolting the
door behind them. The room was small and
lifeless, as if no one lived there, but according to Luc he’d been here for
several months. A small kitchen area
lined the wall on one side while a bed, clothed in black linens, took up much
of the other side.
In
the middle of the room survey, Merrick slumped against her into
unconsciousness. Carefully, she laid him
on the bed and went to look for bandages and wet rags to treat the angry welts
down his arms. When she returned, she
cleaned and bandaged his arms, then remembered why they were no longer
bleeding.
She pulled the confiscated knife out of her
pocket and opened it while thinking about what she had to do. Okay, so Luna wasn’t a masochist by nature,
but needed to help him in any way possible, and letting blood was it. Wincing, she sliced a thin line across her
wrist, watching as the blood pooled at the surface.
She
dropped the knife on the floor as Merrick’s eyes popped open; they weren’t
really his eyes, but a deep red version of his usual emerald ones. They were the cold, unfeeling eyes of a
killer, and Luna wasn’t sure she liked the look in them.
He
latched onto the cut first with his lips and then sinking his teeth in to take
more. It wasn’t the worst pain she’d felt
in her life, but it was close; the only other time he’d bitten her he’d been
able to make it pleasurable for her, but now there was only sheer desperation
for lost nutrients. It didn’t help that
every instinct told her to run screaming from the room and never come back…
Eventually,
his fangs receded from her skin, and he fell back onto the pillow behind him;
passed out cold. Luna used this time to
now bandage her own wrist and place a cool, fresh cloth on his forehead. He was burning up from the strain on his
body, and that was the only way she knew of to help him now.
Slowly
she cleaned the room up, moving clothing and papers to neater stacks before
moving a chair from the small kitchen table to sit next to the bed. Sometime later she fell into a worried sleep
with her head resting on Merrick’s chest.
A
few hours later, Merrick’s tossing and turning in a fitful slumber woke her
up. He was murmuring broken sentences in
another language; Luna recognized it as a mix of French and Latin, his two most
fluent languages. “Ego operor non memor…”
he breathed. I don’t remember. And that
was followed by, “Je ne l'ai pas fait…” I didn’t do it. Just what was he dreaming of?
No,
this was no idle dream- it was a full blown nightmare trying to consume
him. “Quam can vos operor is?” This time his question was in a desperate
whisper, as if he was being betrayed by someone close. Luna knew why they were doing this; his
friends had to follow the rules and keep him in line, even when it hurt them to
do so.
“Merrick,
se que survenir?” Luna asked trying to
reach him in a language she knew enough to translate. She brushed his damp hair out of his face
again and laid her hand against his forehead; he was still burning up, and a
night like this without sleep wasn’t going to help. “Êtes vous d'accord?”
A
dumb question in her mind, but it was the only thing she could think of; of
course he wasn’t alright. “Brûlant…” he
commented painfully, “Toujours brûlant...”
And burning he was, if his fever didn’t break soon he would burn up the
energy and blood Luna had given him earlier.
Suddenly,
he grabbed her wrist and pulled her to him, and somehow she ended up on the
bottom staring up into the dark crimson eyes of her love. He brought her wrist up to his mouth and used
his teeth to remove the bandage from her previous cut, and then sank his teeth
into it once again, never taking his eyes off of her. It hurt, but it was worth saving him from
whatever demons he was facing.
Eventually,
his eyes bled back to their normal color, and his unseeing eyes started to
close as he whispered sharply, “Operor retineo mihi intereo… Please, mon amie, don’t let me die.”
Tears
began to roll down her face as she held his sleeping form close. “J'ai tu, Merrick, and I won’t let you go…”
she stated quietly. He didn’t respond,
but she didn’t expect it; she just hoped he’d get better. She stayed there holding onto him for the
rest of the night.
The
next few nights went the same as the first, with Luna holding onto her friend
as he thrashed from the sensations of his nightmares. She’d fed him every morning with the bottles
that appeared on the doorstep, and every night she’d painfully cut another spot
on her arm to allow him to feed without breaking his probationary status. It was the third day when the phone next to
the bed rang loudly.
Luna
picked it up and answered quietly, “Uh, hello?”
Static
answered her, and for a second she thought she’d been prank called, but then a
man’s voice answered to her. “Salut,
madame, may I speak to your husband?”
Luna
moved from the bed to sit in a chair at the kitchen table. “I’m not married…” she answered suspiciously,
“Who is this?” Apparently, the person
had assumed that she was his wife since she answered the phone, but who would
just automatically assume that?
“I
apologize, miss. Am I assuming too much
in guessing that you are Merrick’s girlfriend?” he asked, trying to outweigh
the fact that he was wrong.
“Once
upon a time… but I doubt he’d still ever consider me for that again…” Luna
answered quietly, even though it really wasn’t his business. “I still love him, though. That’s why I’m still here.”
“Is
he, uh, okay? He hasn’t shown up for
work in a few days, and we’re all worried.”
He stated nervously.
Now
it made sense… “Oh, you work with him? I didn’t even think about his job; is he in
danger of losing it because he’s been out so long?” She asked rapidly, each word making her feel
guiltier and guiltier.
“Yeah,
I’m the right hand man of his brigade, Jeff.” He answered, “But don’t you worry
so much… The boys and I have his shift
covered even though it makes us really nervous and uptight to work without him;
I just wanted to make sure he was alright since he acted a little weird when he
left the other day.”
“Yeah,
I know… He’s, err, he’s kind of sick,
but he’ll be alright in a few days…”
Luna stammered out, feeling relieved that she hadn’t gotten Merrick into
trouble. She should’ve thought about his
job before now and called up to tell them it would be a few days…
“If
you can pardon my asking, do you happen to know why the patron acts so
weird? He’s paranoid most of the time,
and he doesn’t speak much to other people.”
“It’s
not my story to tell, but he’s had a hard life, and some of it was my
fault…” Luna answered. “I’ll have him call you when he’s conscious
again.”
“Thanks,
mademoiselle, I appreciate it.” He hung
up suddenly, leaving Luna with a receiver listening to dead air space. She propped the phone back into its cradle
just as Merrick groaned and tried to sit up.
Luna
rushed over to his side and helped him sit up, noting how weak he still was. He rubbed his face with both hands groggily
before he froze, apparently realizing he wasn’t alone. “Why are you still here?”
“You
needed me… Once upon a time I promised
you that I would stick with you.”
“I
see how that turned out…”
Luna
looked down, hearing the raw truth in his words. “Merrick, listen- it’s just… I had to leave.”
“You
just had to leave the very month before the worst time in my life? Had to leave me alone to fight for my sanity
and almost lose? Did you have to leave
me to stare at these cursed marks on my arm for eternity while you eventually
got a reprieve of them?”
“Merrick…”
“No;
you had your chance. Now leave my
apartment and never come back.”
“Make
me, Merrick; physically kick me out and you’ll never see me again. But until you do, I’m going to fight to stay
with you… I never should have left,”
Luna explained, “but now that I’m back, I will not give up that easily.”
Angrily,
Merrick lurched to his feet to shoo her out, but was hit by waves of
dizziness. He sat back down on the edge
of the bed and looked down at his arms, “Healed and all I am is dizzy. What have you done?”
“I
gave you some of my blood… But don’t
worry! You’re still safe, the agreement
is only that you can’t bite a human,
not that you can’t have what is freely given,” Luna answered cautiously, “I
figured out a loophole and asked Luc about it.”
Merrick
growled at hearing Luc’s name mentioned, and Luna winced, remembering that he
would feel that he’d been betrayed. “So
you’re in league with him… Leave.”
“You
can’t even summon enough physical strength to move me, so I don’t think that’s
a viable threat anymore. Got any other
brilliant ideas?” Luna asked
sarcastically, earning her another sour look from Merrick. He winced in pain, closing his eyes as they
flared red, trying to hide it. Luna’s
resolve softened as she moved to sit beside him. “You may not like me anymore , mon ami, but
you need my blood.”
“I
don’t need you; anyone’s blood will work.”
Embarrassed,
Luna looked at the ground as she answered, “Actually, since we are bound mine
will fill your needs faster.” Her heart
hurt at the injustice that he had suffered.
Why had she even left in the first place? Even when she lived with Terry, she’d thought
of Merrick every day… Why couldn’t she
have felt him hurting?
Merrick
sighed and covered his face with a large hand.
“Why can’t you just let me die already?”
Luna
took hold of his hand with both of hers and met his eyes bravely, knowing she
wasn’t good enough to do so. “You have
so much potential, and you don’t deserve to die.”
“I
am worthless.”
“No!”
she exclaimed, “Don’t talk like that!
How can you think yourself worthless when so many are fighting for
you? Don’t you care?”
“I
stopped caring the day you left. Now
will you leave?” He asked defeated. He stared the floor, his left arm braced
behind him, as he tried to pull his hand away from the girl next to him.
“Take
my blood; then I’ll leave, and you’ll never have to see me again…” Luna spoke softly, and at first she thought
that he hadn’t heard her. “I just have
to make a cut… Hey- what…” Her action of drawing the knife over her arm
was cut short as he pulled it away from her.
“Not
like that; if you don’t want it to scar you have to cut with a different
angle. The cleaner the better…” He answered roughly; Luna knew he spoke from
experiences that she couldn’t imagine.
Shaking, she was overwhelmed with strange feelings as he guided the
blade across her skin.
When
Merrick pulled away minutes later, she made her decision to stay with him and
damn the consequences. She left the room
quietly as he continued to sleep…
…and
ran straight into a man that resembled a mountain. “What are you doing down here?” She asked aggressively, “This is a private
area.” She stepped back to get a better
look at the guy, and then stopped.
The
man was undoubtedly taller than her and appeared to work out a lot. He was all lean muscle with clear green eyes
and black hair that framed his face. If
she didn’t know better, she would’ve said that this person was Merrick.
“Who
are you?”
He
stared at her for a few seconds, then spoke, “You must be Luna; he spoke of you
in his dreams. Do you still care for
him?” The man blatantly avoided her last
question, obviously expecting an answer from her.
What’s
it to you?” she asked curiously. “If
you’re telling me to leave him- that’s not going to happen!”
He
laughed. “So much spirit… Relax, little one, I only want what’s best
for my little brother.”
“Little
brother?”
“Yes,”
he started, “I’m Anthony- let’s sit down and talk; this’ll take some time.”