Battle for Blood Ch. 04

The second day went much like the first. She oscillated between being immobilized by pain and nausea and feeling strong enough to limp on her own. He want to pluck her off her feet each time she struggled to take a step but he knew that it was important for her to feel strong, strong enough to make it through. She sat at the kitchen table, shaking only slightly with the effort it had taken to cross the room. He handed her a fruit drink. She wouldn't be able to eat real food for several more days. He had stocked up though, ready whenever she was. Shane smiled at him in gratitude and took a small sip. Her hand shook.

"I bought straws," he said helpfully.

"Only if it's a twisty one." She managed a small smile.

"What the lady wants, the lady shall receive." Over the next several minutes he cut the plastic straws and linked them together creating a figure eight straw for her. She accepted it with the tiniest giggle. It survived two sips before falling apart.

"We also have a special on regular straws."

Shane rolled her eyes. "Well if I must drink like a plebian I supposed I shall." She plucked the straw from his hand and took another sip. Cole gave her a look.

"Did you go to school?" he asked. She made reference to many things he would have assumed her ignorant of considering her upbringing, which he had learned, took place on an isolated island off the coast of Maine with a very small population.

Shane snorted. "God no. My father didn't let me out of his sight for about 10 years. He had a lot of books at the house. When I was 16 he brought home a computer but I ordered a lot of books, movies, anything I wanted really. He needed me to be occupied while still in close quarters so he let me get what I wanted." Her voice grew hoarse and she took another sip. "I loved the old Hollywood films and novels. I learned a lot of chemistry just by being in his house. I had to learn the rules of what I could and couldn't touch. I preferred astronomy though. If there is any plus to living in the middle of nowhere, it's the stars."

"Do you ever sleep like a human?" He had noticed her sleep patterns were more or less the same as his.

"Not in a vampire house, we were nocturnal." Whenever Shane said 'vampire' he could hear a slight edge in her voice, one he wished he couldn't. But he couldn't take away her past. He resolved to make her future better.

In that instant Cole felt something click into place. He had thought, many times before, that he had felt this sensation but nothing was ever so solid, so obvious, as this overwhelming feeling he experienced now. Silence filled the room as he considered the ramifications of this realization. He looked over at her as she sipped her drink. It made sense; he had been drawn to her since his spirit had first seen her fight in that meadow. He had saved her, stayed with her, even at his own risk. He had felt sorry for what he had done, an emotion he had not felt in a long time. And all this for this girl, barely two decades old and mortal.

"Do you know what an anchor is?" Cole asked. He felt like his still heart would beat out of his chest. He tried to keep his voice steady.

"The big hunk of metal you drop off the side of a boat?" Shane offered.

"No, in the life of a vampire." She shook her head. "Vampires are strange creatures. No other species will live forever if they are not killed outright. Werewolves can live for much longer than humans but they still age and die eventually. Vampires cease to age but continue to exist, possibly forever. We have to find anchors to keep us going, to keep us grounded. Eternal life is a terrible thing to face without purpose. Vampires that don't find one don't last long. Those who lose their anchors also risk madness and death. Being the same person for hundreds of years is intolerable if there is no reason to remain that way."

"What's your anchor?"

"I don't have one."

"But you are over 1500 years old. How do you manage?"

"I had one, at least I thought I did, for the first 500 years of this life. After I lost my anchor I wandered the globe for years before I began to adapt, give up the person I was before and focus on what I could be in the present." Cole gave her a look. Shane struggled not to smile. She started to giggle, then to laugh. He leapt from his chair and knelt by her chair, taking her hands. The laugh quickly turned hysterical and she was gasping for breath. She clutched his hands as her shoulders shook with exhaustion. Tears streamed down her cheeks. Finally she calmed down, still chuckling quietly.

"Sorry," she gasped. "I had a vision of vampire greeting cards saying congratulations! You're a vampire, live for the moment."

"Very funny." Her hands began to heat up and he saw her eyes roll back and close.

"Oh man, every time I keep hoping it's the last time." She withdrew her hands from his so they could cradle her head. "It just hurts so much." Cole tucked her hair behind her ear and kissed her head. Yes, this was right. Being with her was just right.

"Back to the bath?"

She nodded miserably. He scooped her up and carried her back to the bathroom. She threw her arms around his neck and buried her burning face in his neck. He whispered encouraging words to her as she cried silently. It would get better. He sat with her all day, refilling the ice as it melted, feeding her when she could eat. She asked her to tell her more stories. His voice helped to sooth her, calm her when the pain threatened to take over.

"Anchors keep us grounded. Of course, ironically, they have been called many things over the years. Each vampire is different really. For many it is another person, vampire or mortal, of course the issue of a mortal anchor is obvious. But for many it is a different purpose. It could be a place, a family, an occupation, almost anything. I know of one vampire who has served as a midwife for over four centuries. Another has guarded the decedents of his mortal life for 600 years. It's important to define your place in this world. Those who don't tend towards madness or don't make it long.

"Eternal life is a curse as much as we might view it as a blessing. With the loss of my anchor I became rootless. Can you imagine being the same person for centuries? I changed; I have been many people in many places. The world is small when you live forever. I have had too many years on this earth."

Shane looked at him. "What was your anchor?"

Cole opened his mouth to tell her and closed it. "That is a story for a different time I think. I promise I will tell you though, when the time comes." She nodded, too weak to protest.

"Tell me a different story then. Tell me more about who you were."

Cole laughed. "I should pick and choose wisely no doubt. Not all of them are flattering."

Shane rolled her eyes. "Cause I would hate to taint the perfect picture I have of you."

"Sick people should have no time for sarcasm."

"Next time I see one I'll let them know."

"Very well. I don't know where to begin."

"Were you in Italy for the Renaissance? I love the paintings from that time."

"Paintings!" Cole exclaimed. "That was nothing. The sculptures were the kings of the day. And no picture can capture that. You should see them in person."

"Alright. Pack my bags."

"In time I will." He smiled at her. She squeezed his hand.

"Tell me."

And he did. He told her stories of great painters and lowly servants. He had been a gondolier in Venice during the height of its decadence. He had sailed the spice route and lived in Japan when the Samurai ran the country. He told her of discovering islands in the Pacific and mutinies in the high seas. He had been everything from a captain to a cook on the big ships that ruled the oceans. He had lived in so many places, seen so many wars waged, art created, people living and dying. Once he began it all flowed naturally. She was a wonderful audience, gasping in the right places, exclaiming in others. She let him go on and on when he got dreamy and far away. He had never lost his love of the sea and it had brought him to this continent eventually, the inevitable tug of history pulling him with it towards the new world. He told her of sailing into New Orleans during the 1820s and taking a lover.

"At that point, of course it was still very taboo, but then again so is being a vampire."

Shane grabbed his arm. "You were gay?"

"Several times. I've also lived with polygamous communities though that can be complicated, too social for a vampire. The world is your oyster and staying the same is so tedious after a century or so. I've also been Muslim, Jewish even Bahai. Exploring religion became something of a hobby. It seemed so easy for humans to find purpose in it I thought maybe I could. Not luck though. I tried India as a Hindu but there is too much sun there, and too many gods. Also, being generally European looking I stood out too much in the Far East to blend in. When a westerner arrives and people start dying you can bet I'm the first one they look too. Not that they were ever wrong. Except once in Burma..."

The look on her face made him stop. He'd meant to leave out his more violent phases. He didn't want to scare her.

"I've also been very violent. I have gone through stages of subsisting entirely off of animal blood, which is a terrible state for a vampire, but I have also taken out the pain of my immortality on humans around me. I am not proud of it and those were dark times for me. Luckily they were few and far between. The worst curse of our kind is that once you have witnessed generations of death, it can lose its significance. No longer though. For over 600 years I have not caused the death of a human." He considered this statement. "That I know of." He added. She seemed to consider this. It would take time for her to sort out. Getting to know someone who has lived hundreds of lifetimes is no simple task.

"Who were you before the wolves caught you?"

"A nihilist." He smiled. "I had been working for the council for many years, looking for a purpose. I grew tired of them quickly; my employment lasted only several decades. It is a curse to be an ancient vampire with no anchor in this world. You have younglings looking down on you as if you are something to pity."

"What is the council?"

"The vampire governing body I suppose. They don't do much in the day to day really. Many vamps rarely know it exists until something big happens. Vampires are a solitary type. We don't band together like wolves do."

Shane gasped and turned in the tub. Cole continued pouring ice over her. Her thin, muscular body twisted in pain. Her eyes rolled back and she convulsed. Cole longed to pick her up, to hold her close until the pain passed. Instead he watched helplessly as her body contorted. He lay his cool hands against her burning face.

"Come on Shane. You can do this. Just breathe and focus. Imagine the pain receding. Think of your blood giving up its dependence. Don't focus on the cells. Focus on your entire body healing. Focus Shane. Break through it." For a heart wrenching moment, he back arched and her entire body went stiff. He saw her eyes roll back till her gaze was a blind white. Then she relaxed, her eyes closed and her muscles loosened. She slumped against the ice in the tub and breathed normally. She opened her eyes and looked at him.

"Thank you. That helped."

Cole stroked her forehead. "How did it help?"

"I don't know. It was just easier to focus on your voice and make my way out by what you said."

Cole sat quietly for a moment, considering this. "Could I talk you through the healing process? Perhaps we were focused on the wrong thing. It's not about the cells; it's about the overall health of your body. The process of expelling the vampire blood is already taking place. We just need to make it happened faster."

Shane gave him a weak smile. "Anything. I'll try anything."

A few hours later Shane was sleeping again in his bed. Her body temperature was hovering just above normal. The entire night had been spent trying to speed up the withdrawal process. It had, to some extent, worked. She was completely spent now and would sleep for hours. Though it had happened faster than it usually would have, the withdrawal process had been just as painful. Cole needed to hit something.

He left her in the hidden living quarters beneath the warehouse and made his way to the second floor. He had, several years ago, created something of a gym, somewhere to get the energy out. He had used this place to hide after escaping the council, suspecting that they would not look right beneath their own noses for him. Hiding was not his style but he was a master of adaptation. He took out the rage and frustration he felt at his helplessness with Shane on several punching bags, which ended up torn, mangled or punched through a concrete wall. He went outside and ran, so fast he skimmed the water of the harbor, running out along the surface in great arcs. He ran back to the warehouse to return to Shane as the sun began to peak up over the horizon. The sky was a magnificent red with long wispy clouds soaking up the color of the coming day. Cole contemplated this day briefly, the human realm of sunshine and brightly colored clouds. He had once belonged here. Perhaps Shane had as well. But here they were, creatures of the night, hiding below the earth till life passed.

"But you never told me who they are really. Why do you have to go? Didn't you hide from them? Why would you go back? How do you know they didn't put you in that pit?" Shane was sitting up in bed, her rumples hair fell enticingly around her face. He longed to crawl into bed with her, show her how much pleasure her body was capable of. It had been three days since they worked on her body's responses and she was greatly improved though not back at full strength.

Cole had told her yesterday that he had to leave, to go speak to the council. He had tired to explain why they needed answers, to know what was happening. Shane disagreed. She insisted that the best way was avoidance. Why couldn't he just hide from them?

"They got me, whoever 'they' are. It takes a lot of planning to capture an ancient vampire and hold him for three years. They were very well prepared for me. If the council did that then I won't be able to hide from them forever. But I suspect that it was not the council to blame for my situation. I'm fairly certain, though, that they were the ones who extricated you from your father's house and ultimately sent you to rescue me."

Shane recoiled at this. "The Teacher worked for the council?"

Cole nodded. "I wouldn't be surprised. Can you describe him?"

"Her," Shane said. "She was older, mid forties maybe. Black hair with silver streaks. Cold eyes. Big fangs. I don't think she ever retracted hers. She had the tiniest scar on her cheek. It looked like a star right in the hollow of her cheek."

Cole nodded. "Adriana. She would be that conceited to call herself a teacher." Cole considered this a second, something clicked into place. He would deal with her later.

"You know her?" Shane gaped. She had never felt so little and stupid. She was so ignorant of the world around her, so unclear about politics and bodies of government. Cole explained them to her with the tired resignation of someone who had fought to many battles, both in war and politics. Shane was still so wide-eyed. She snapped her mouth closed and looked away, her cheeks flushed.

Cole closed the distance between them and cupped her cheek in his hand. His touch sent shivers of excitement through her body. Even at the height of her pain she had taken great pleasure from his touch. Now that her body was mostly healed it was overwhelming the way his kisses had been back at the cabin.

"You are amazing Shane. Don't forget that. People have used you and treated you badly. You have been kept away from the world. That is nothing to be ashamed of. It's possible that it is a great gift. You will see that in time."

She raised her eyes to his. They locked on each other. She saw the streaks of silver in his irises glow with desire. Her own eyes deepened to a dark green that burned with their own internal light. Time stopped with that look and she trembled at his closeness. So slowly she might have missed it, he began leaning in towards her, or maybe she was leaning towards him? She wasn't sure. His lips grazed over hers and her eyes flickered shut. She slipped her hand against his chest, so much bigger than her own body. She felt small as his arms snaked around her body, pulling her close.

Their lips met again, this time more urgently. Heat shot through her and settled in her lower belly, coiling up inside her. Her arms went around his neck and her knees trembled. He pulled her body into his, holding her up against the solid wall of his chest. She gasped as his hands wandered across her back, pulling on her hair ever so slightly. His tongue slipped into her mouth, tangling with her own. She felt a rumble between them and wondered if it was she who made the sound. Their bodies were so close she couldn't tell. She kissed him harder, pulling him further into her. There was a desire in her, one she could not fully understand but it wanted him closer, harder, anything more, she wanted more. She wanted to touch him everywhere, combine their bodies in ways she couldn't articulate.

He broke away. She was breathless, sure that her body could not stand an instant without his against it. She tried to kiss him again.

"Wait," he gasped. He rested his forehead against hers. She could feel heat rolling off him. She made a small sound in the back of her throat, calling for him to continue. She felt his teeth clench and his jaw twitch. He didn't want to hold back. "Oh hell." He said and kissed her again. She hugged him close, kissing him urgently, their tongues dancing softly against each other. He bent her over and picked her up. She wrapped her legs around him, feeling his hardness against her. Part of her was scared. She was mostly inexperienced with men. She had only had sex with one boy who had cared little for how she felt as she lay beneath him, unsure of what to do. But a bigger part of her wanted nothing else beside him, his skin, his body pressed against her and inside her with a need she had never experienced.

"We should stop," he said against her mouth.

"Why?" she gasped as she pulled away from his lips. She was confused; did he not feel what she was feeling? How could he possibly want to stop? But he didn't stop. He held her closer, kissed her again. For a moment she thought he would pull away but it never came. Her fingers ran through his hair against his scalp. Her chest crushed against his, her body clinging to his. She felt the world tilt and the bed hit her back. He was above her now, but she did not release him, keeping her legs firmly twined around his body, her hands holding him to her as they kissed. His hands slipped down the sides of her body. She gasped as his fingers found the skin between the shirt she wore and the elastic of the boxers she'd stolen from him. He'd bought her real clothes but she had more enjoyed the smell of his.

His fingers brushed her bare side ever so softly, pulling goose bumps across her skin in their wake. His hands traveled slowly, lazily even, across her body. She let her feet slide from his back and he arched above her, no longer pressed against her body. She smiled at him, slipping one of her feet into his t-shirt and winding her bare leg around his torso, letting the wonderful friction of their skin roll over them. He kissed her again as she sat up with him kneeing above her. She slipped her hands underneath his shirt, feeling his warm flesh against her palms. She felt him shudder with her touch, his hands balled into fists.