Blood Sacrifice, Sacrifice Tales

The night's air grew cool.

For a time, the night grew lighter, and by the time the son returned with the coffee, the father stared at the half-full moon. Evan poured coffee and held the cup before his father. Mr. Blair gazed at the moon, his eyes unblinking.

"Father."

"Yes," Blair said, his voice distant and disconnected.

"Father," the son repeated.

"Yes." Blair took the coffee and drank a whole mouthful. "Damn, that's hot." His mind immediately returned to the moon, and he gazed at the beauty of the starry night sky.

A few minutes after midnight, the father sat in a chair. Still looking into the night sky, his eyelids fluttered and closed.

The son slept in his own chair.

Martha tossed off her covers, stripped her clothing, and restlessly waited.

When the sun rose in the morning, father and son woke. Gapping at each other. They couldn't entirely wrap their minds around things. Slowly, their senses returned, and they checked on Martha.

She lay on her back, blood on the sheets, but not one mark on her body. Martha's eyes were open. There were three scabbed-over pairs of scratches on her neck. Her blue eyes were covered in a thin white haze. The haze of death. The bed was in disarray, as if an orgy had taken place.

They placed the dead girl in the family crypt on the property the following day. Aaron observed the funeral from a hill near the tomb. Aaron wondered what the plan was. Would the mistress take Martha into the fold or leave her here to feed on her family and the village?

Only nightfall would give him answers. He turned and looked at the box wagon. Aaron longed to be in her arms. Perhaps she'd favor Aaron that night. Jealously crept into his thoughts. Why'd she need others?

He wanted to cross over, to become undead. But his purpose was to protect Lacey. However, Aaron couldn't do that if he was a vampire, not in daylight. Gazing around, Aaron scanned the horizon for any sign of danger.

"Hurry, sundown, hurry set, sun, and bring her to me."