Borne in the Blood Read online

  Tesa backed away with her hands up.

  “No, nonono!”

  She stared at Stark with wide eyes. It was coming back to her, the images becoming clear as though a fog was lifting. She remembered the alley, all wet and dark, and trying to run away…

  Vampires?!

  “No, Tesa, please. It’s all right…”

  “No!” she yelled. “Stay back! Stay away! I know my rights, and you can’t keep me here!”

  Stark lowered his voice and raised his hands in a helpless gesture. “We don’t want to, but we have to. It’s the only way.”

  “NO!” she shrieked. “I’m not going to be some… food bank for some effed up vampire bullshit!”

  “Not until you gain a little weight you’re not,” Gunner said drily. “You’re barely a snack.”

  Stark shook his head. He looked wounded. “Tesa, believe me, it’s not like what you have heard. We have everything here for you. Everything is perfect. You have something we need… We have everything you need. It could be so wonderful.”

  Tesa backed away until she reached the wall and couldn’t go any further. Her pulse was roaring in her ears.

  These monsters probably love this! she admonished herself. Be strong! Calm down!

  Think!

  Measuring her breaths, she kept her eyes on Stark and tried to steady her quaking legs, her rushing pulse. She felt just like a cornered alleycat, and cursed Gunner silently for seeing that in her.

  After a few long, tense minutes, Tesa stood straight. She took a deep breath and fixed Stark in her gaze, refusing to blink or look away. If she could just buy some time, she could figure out how to get away. There would be chances. She was sure of it.

  “You’re vampires ,” she said in a shaky voice, not even believing the word as it came out.

  He nodded, watching her carefully. Tesa forced herself to stand taller, to blink and breathe slowly. Images flickered through her mind of the vampires she had seen in Youtube videos, that indie documentary. They were supposed to live in the city, in shabby, tasteless dens with drug addicts and blood slaves.

  “But… you don’t even have accents or anything,” she started.

  Gunner scoffed. “Racist.”

  Stark held up a hand to silence his brother. “What you’ve been shown is.. Well, a good deal of theater , I would presume. The reality is far less baroque.”

  Shaking her head hard, she tried to piece more of it together. They didn’t drink at the bar, didn’t even seem to eat. They certainly had a way of popping up and moving way too damn fast. And Stark always seemed to know what she was thinking, exactly what she was feeling...

  The only way, he had said. Seriously? He intended to keep her?

  “My friends will wonder where I am,” she said evenly.

  “I will take care of that,” Stark assured her.

  “I don’t want…” she gulped, the taste of fear metallic and bright in her mouth. “I don’t want to die.”

  “Oh no no no,” he shook his head fervently. “You won’t die. You won’t. I swear it.”

  “Does it… Does it hurt?”

  “It doesn’t have to hurt,” he protested.

  “Unless you want it to…” Gunner laughed. He strolled to the bed and flopped across it.

  “Would you please just stop it?” she hissed brazenly. “You’re being an asshole. I’m trying to figure this out with Stark.”

  “But whyyyy?” Gunner sing-songed.

  Tesa rolled her eyes and focused her attention on Stark again. She reached for his hand. He seemed so open, so honest, that she felt like she could trust him if she had to. Besides, the indie documentary had shown horrible pictures of the suffering they had endured while trying to evade detection. There was also some hint of a viral threat, something that made the badge on her arm even more pertinent.

  “If I do this… Will it help you? It could… Save you?”

  Stark blinked.

  “Save him ?” Gunner laughed, pushing himself up on one elbow and cradling his head in his hand.

  “What does he mean?” she asked Stark. She searched his eyes but found nothing there she could understand. The connection wasn’t there.

  “Well, but...” Stark started. “I already have someone.”

  Tesa’s mind reeled. She felt dizzy and sick. The room began to spin. She wasn’t sure she could stand any more.

  “That’s right, kitten!” Gunner called out as the room faded to purple sparkles and black. “ You’re here for me! ”

  CHAPTER 4

  Eighty-eight. That was the number of angel wings on the outermost edge of the large, plaster relief in the middle of the ceiling. Tesa had memorized them all as she lay on her back on the four-poster bed, staring at the ceiling for hours on end.

  Eighty-eight. The wings curved clockwise. On the ring just inside them, which seem to be comprised of tulips or something, the flowers were arranged counter-clockwise. On the ring inside that, almond-shaped leaves returned to the clockwise direction.

  The impression was sort of dizzying. If she let it, the plaster seemed to come to life. It began spinning, turning like gears, revolving infinitely yet getting nowhere.

  Just like her.

  She glanced at the door. From this angle, she could just barely see the glint of the deadbolt. The door was locked. She didn't even try the handle, not wanting to give Gunner the satisfaction of jiggling it and letting him know how desperate she was to get out.

  Was he out there? Was he just walking back and forth in the hallway, practicing his sarcastic one-liners for the moment where she tried to leave?

  It didn’t even matter. If all the stories about vampire abilities were true, he could hear her from anywhere in the house. He could probably smell her, she figured. He would totally appear, just like that, the moment her fingers touched the handle. He’d make a point of it to humiliate her further. Just the thought of him enraged her.

  This is completely messed up. Tesa, you have really done it this time!

  She sat up in bed, grinding her molars together and clawing at the duvet cover, half in frustration and half in boredom. It had been, what? A day? Two days? She wasn't sure. It didn't matter. Her level of outrage was the same, either way.

  Weirdly, it seemed almost like a joke. Like, these things happened ? People were just picked up and kept as vampire food? It seemed totally absurd. After all, they advertised on TV like low-rent lawyers and pedicure spas. They probably had people just lined up to sell their fluids by the hundred.

  But actually, she knew that these things did happen. For every market, there’s a black market. She’d heard people recounting the latest stories they’d read about, the latest Youtube vlog posts. One day, everything had been normal. Mostly, you were safe. People went missing sometimes, and often no one knew why.

  And then the next day, everything changed. People went missing, and everyone thought they knew exactly why.

  She'd seen it on the news, the day everything changed. That was the day the first vampire announced himself on CNN in a live press conference. Practically the whole country had watched, more or less expecting to see some kind of magic trick. A performance piece. Maybe some crazy guy.

  It was at the Plaza Hotel in New York. The vamp himself must have been well-connected, because MSNBC, CNN, and Fox News were all there. Everybody gathered in a brightly lit ballroom, the sort where people have weddings and corporate parties and technical conferences. But this was something very different.

  Tesa had watched it in a bar, somewhere… She couldn't remember exactly where, but it didn't really matter. All bars are the same, she figured.

  She sat on the corner with her elbows on the wood top, gnawing thoughtfully on a bowl of stale pretzels. The CNN reporter was trying to look serious and sarcastic at the same time, fidgeting lackadaisically with her microphone. She checked over her shoulder every few seconds to see if anybody had gotten to the stage yet.

  As the reporter made small talk, going over rehearse
d jokes about the Vampire Lestat and the Cullen family, the crowd behind her all began to murmur all at once. She turned away from the camera and stood, waiting expectantly.

  A tall, dark-haired man in a shiny violet shirt approached the podium. He had heavy brows, inky black eyes, and a distinctly bluish shadow over his chiseled, masculine cheeks. He didn't look like a ghoul or anything. He looked like a car salesman's nephew from the old country.

  The way he held his mouth, he looked as though English was not his first language. The way he scowled, he looked as though press conferences were not his first language either.

  He cleared his throat and said hello to the audience. Tesa popped another pretzel in her mouth and chewed as slowly as possible so that she could hear over the sound of the gathered whispers. The bar she was in was completely empty, but she knew the whole country was listening. People had been talking about it for weeks. It was a very big deal. These creatures did not officially exist. The Reddit conspiracy mongers were just yanking our chains about a global network of semi-magical beings with an ongoing war for domination over the sheeple.

  “Hello,” he said again, dipping his chin toward the microphone. “My name is Helmut. I come from an important and ancient family in the mountains of Europe. You have nothing to be afraid of."

  The reporters chuckled defensively, some louder than others. After a few moments where Helmut said nothing, chuckles were upgraded to something more like tittering, then something more like outright laughter. His large, strong hands gripped the edges of the podium. He leaned forward again.

  “I would like to take this opportunity to invite you to witness the… How shall I say it?”

  The reporters’ reactions were mixed. Tesa could hear some frustrated sighs, more giggling, and a few voices shushing the others. Another figure appeared on the left side of the stage and approached Helmut. Everything went silent.

  She was a young woman, about twenty or twenty-one years old. She had long, dark hair and spray of freckles across her nose. Her eyes were sky-blue and absolutely unafraid as she approached the podium and took Helmut's outstretched hand.

  “There will be no pain,” he said quietly into the microphone and slipped behind her. The woman smiled at everyone as Helmut gathered her hair and pulled it to the side, exposing her neck.

  At this point, the CNN reporter turned and looked directly into the camera, her mouth open and her eyes wide. She held her hand out as though requesting instruction from the cameraman, or maybe her producer. But nothing changed. The camera didn't move.

  As everyone watched, the woman dropped her head back against Helmut’s wide, strong chest. He opened his mouth, baring what looked to be sudden and sharp fangs. Tesa wasn't sure she'd noticed them before. Did they just appear like that?

  And then without another word, he dipped his head and pierced the flesh of her neck. The reporters gasped collectively. Muffled cries went up. But no one moved.

  Someone finally stood at the front of the group, spinning around with his hands out as though beseeching the audience. When no one else rose to join him, he took a couple of faltering steps toward the stage. But he was stopped short by the woman's outstretched palm. It was a gesture of traffic cops, Stop .

  Her fingers were relaxed, her expression was completely without fear or any sign of pain. If anything, she looked like she was enjoying it. Helmet’s arms circled around the her torso, supporting her gently.

  The scene continued for no more than ten seconds. When he released her, two single trails of sticky, bright blood trickled down her neck and pooled in the hollow behind her collarbone. The woman shrugged delicately. She raised her hand in a dainty, shy wave and then walked unaided off the stage, back the way she came.

  Helmet drew a handkerchief from the front pocket of his expensive-looking trousers and used it to wipe his mouth politely before stepping back behind the podium. He seemed to stand quite a bit taller, and any sign of discomfort or shyness was completely gone.

  “I will not be accepting any questions,” he informed the reporters.

  And with that, he left. The CNN reporter whirled back around, her face a mask of shock and unconcealed disgust. She opened her mouth several times to say something, finally settling on a few sentences of gibberish that ended with a flustered, “Back to the studio, Dan, and our panel. What the hell do you guys think?”

  Tesa could barely imagine it. The look on the woman's face had been totally relaxed, half-lidded eyes and her lips parted. She looked like she was falling through a dream. She looked like she was in love.

  Absolute depravity. If Gunner thinks I'm doing that for him, he's out of his damn mind!

  Tesa rolled over on the bed, stuffing her face against the fluffy duvet cover and groaning as quietly as she possibly could. Then she sat up, glaring at the door.

  “I'd like to be let out now!”

  Nothing happened.

  She filled her lungs with air. “I know you can hear me! Let me the hell out of this room!”

  Still nothing. She slid off the bed and stalked back and forth, her hands balled into fists at her side.

  “Dammit, Gunner! You can't keep me here! You can't do that!”

  Absolute silence.

  “The toilet is overflowing, guys!” she hollered at the top of her lungs. “Water is getting everywhere! You better come up here right now!”

  Her heart pounding, she strained to listen for any sign of commotion outside her room. There was absolutely nothing. Taking deep breaths, she strode over to the window and whipped the curtains to the side. Yep, still locked. The tall windows had several panes of glass and reinforced moldings. There was no way she was getting through there.

  I can't believe I thought I'd finally won, she berated herself. How could I have believed this was a good thing for even a second?

  As s he turned toward the window and then away again, a flash of charcoal gray caught her eye. When she turned around to see what it was, she noticed there was a tray of food at the foot of her bed. Her dinner. One of them had apparently done that freaky vampire superspeed thing.

  “Yeah, I get it!” she hollered, now confident that they were at least listening to her. “You're super fast! Big fat hairy deal!”

  But despite herself, she really was hungry. The salty, savory smells filled the air. If they didn't need food, why did they have such damn good cooks?

  All the better to entrap you with, my dear, she thought to herself.

  CHAPTER 5

  When she woke in the morning, she was shocked to find Stark seated at the foot of her bed. She was shocked to find anybody , but even more surprised to find Stark himself.

  As she opened her eyes, her body went immediately on full alert. She sat up quickly, pulling the duvet up to her shoulders and pushing a nervous hand through her disheveled hair.

  “What's… What are you doing here? What time is it?”

  “Tesa, I think we need to talk,” he said in a low, gentle voice.

  “Oh my God, Stark, I'm so relieved to hear you say that!” she breathed, immediately frantic. “I know this is just some kind of a misunderstanding, right? I mean, I’ve really been thinking about it over the last few days… I mean, you can't just want to keep me here, right? You're going to let me go, aren't you?”

  Stark’s eyes flickered away for a moment and then back to her. He pressed his lips into a hard line.

  “Stark, this doesn't make any sense!” she blurted out. Despite herself, she could feel her arms and legs trembling. She had planned this conversation a million times: how she would be calm, how she would convince him. But here she was just losing her shit and going completely crazy on him.

  “I'm sorry… I'm so sorry,” she backtracked, trying to seem more calm than she felt. “I mean, thank you so much for taking the time to speak with me. I'm sure we can find a way to make this work out.”

  “Tesa… There so much you don't understand.”

  “Then tell me, Stark! Please!”

  He shook
his head as though trying out several conversations silently. His thoughts seemed extremely far away.

  “Tesa, first you need to know how very special you are to us —”

  “But I'm not special!” she objected, unable to control herself from interrupting. “I'm nobody! There must be a million girls who would love to be in this situation! Literally, a million girls ! They’re all over the news, Stark!”

  “No, Tesa. You have to believe me. You're the only one he wants.”

  Gunner .

  Just the thought of him made her want to reach out and grab something to hit him with. Gunner, again?

  “If Gunner has something to say to me,” she said through gritted teeth, “why doesn't he come up here and tell me himself?”

  Starks smoothed his trousers over his knees with his palms.

  “He would, if I would let him. He would like that very much. But first, I thought you and I could have a conversation. Talk this through, see if we can come to an understanding.”

  Stark cast eyes toward her. She met his gaze fearlessly, willing herself not to blink. There was a connection there, she was sure of it. Not constantly, not cosmically strong, but it was there.

  I have to work on that, she commanded herself. I have to reach him!

  She scootched forward, crawling on her knees without breaking his gaze. When she was just inches away from him, she sat back on her heels. She couldn’t help but be aware of how his eyes traced over her bare shoulders and the borders of the duvet that barely covered her chest.

  “All right,” she said quietly, enjoying the way his eyes immediately traveled to her lips, watching their every move. “Let's talk.”

  He spread out his hands. “What you think you know of us,” he began, “what you have seen on the Internet, perhaps… That is not what we are. We are not just… scavengers . Do you understand what I am saying?”

  Scavengers? She thought of vultures circling over a decomposing steer carcass in the desert, like in a movie. That's gross.

  “I… I think I understand,” she lied.