NOVEL FROG Ch. 8: Blood
Ch. 8
“Blood”
“A nibble, really? You’re just full of surprises.” He says, shock flaring across his sharp features. Blood drips past the two puncture wounds on his finger, crimson staining his pale skin. A cunning grin replaces his sharpness, his fangs slipping past his bottom lip.
I could have killed him. The thought flickers in my mind, as natural as breathing. The beast rumbles, roars behind my mental door. Is it in agreement? But I didn’t. Something within me refused. I remain frozen, watching as the vampire’s hand moves, but my heart is racing.
Why? Why couldn’t I just kill him? I have killed before. Fuck, Mother has made me do worse. Or that is what it looks like after a night spent in the one room in my wing of the castle. So, why not now, in that moment, did something hold me back?
I try to reason it out, maybe I lost my way, the memories of my past playing tricks on my mind, the familiarity of his presence being a player in a lost, forgotten game. But deep down, I know there is more to it… I can feel it. Something in the way his cerulean eyes dance, knowing more about me than maybe I know. Something about him pulls at me, like a damn, feystone. It shouldn’t. I should want to rip him apart, which I do… but I can’t.
My throat tightens, frustration bubbling under my skin. He talked about eating me like a snack, and I didn’t KILL him? What did I do instead? The thought gnaws at me, sharp and unnerving. I could very well still be in danger, if not from the vampire, but the forest itself. I shouldn’t have hesitated, but I did…
“You talked about eating me!” I snap, the frustration slipping into my voice. Nearly stumbling into a pile of leaves, my exhausted body sways. “I told you to let me go. Countless times, actually.” My tone sharpens, but my voice feels distant, as if the disappearing shadows are muffling it.
He pauses for a moment. “Three is hardly countless. And I only wanted a taste.” His cerulean eyes, dance with orange flakes. The color reminds me of what I would envision laying under one of the ember trees in the forest with a bright blue sky above peeking through the branches would look like. “Only a bite first. I am a gentleman.” His head tilts down at me, analyzing me, and my throat tightens as if his hands were around it — stealing air from my lungs. “Your sound, your essence, were both clear to me.” Those cerulean eyes watching me as his pupils dilate. “I was lured and then investigated.”
I resist the urge to smell myself, though I imagine I probably smell like a rotting carcass. It’s been days since I left the castle — Nyx, has it been a week or more? I assume he’s referring to my power and the scent that accompanies one with such a severity…or at least, I hope so.
His blood catches my eye, a small trickle against the sharp lines of his hand, pooling in droplets before seeping into the earth. I try to look away, but I can’t. It pulses, every drop calling me, stirring something deep within my chest. Blood always does this to me. No matter how hard I tried to look away, it demanded my attention.
The scent of his blood mingles with the damp earth, rich and metallic, pulling me in like a siren’s call. My mouth goes dry, and the familiar hunger awakens within me, clamoring for release. I force myself to look away, to focus on his sharp features instead, but the desire churns like a storm inside me. But, the smell moves along my nose, again, with the breeze —
The cold stone of the castle wall dug into my palms as I clung to the ledge outside the window, my heart pounding in my chest. The wind tugged at my hair, and the ground below looked impossibly far. But the call for freedom — the sky, the wind, the world beyond the walls — was too strong to ignore. I wasn’t supposed to be out. Mother had forbidden it, but I don’t remember why.
As my feet searched for a stable foothold, I slipped. Panic surged, and in an instant, gravity yanked me down. The snap of my arm echoed as I hit the ground with a muffled cry.
Everything went hazy, the edges of my vision blurring, and in the distance, a figure approached — cloudy, indistinct. I couldn’t make out the figure’s face, only the vague shape of a man.
“Mihaela,” His voice was clear, soft, and warm, brushing against me like a memory long forgotten. The sound of my name in the man’s voice, moves something deep within me, and even the beast shuffles behind my mental door. Comfort. Security. As if I am behind a shield from all other disorders, that makes everything feel right, though I can’t quite place why.
The man’s hands were gentle as he cradled her, his touch careful not to jostle my broken arm. “You’re safe now. I’ve got you.” His words wrapped around me, soothing any lingering fear, but I couldn’t shake the fogginess that clouded his features. Who was he?
The man carried me through the castle corridors, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t focus on his face. It was like my mind refused to hold on to him — only his voice remained, soft and steady, until they reached Mother.
Her fury hit like a storm. “What were you thinking? Reckless and foolish, climbing down the stone wall! Do you ever stop to think, Mihaela?” She paced the small chambered room, her eyes flashing with anger, barely sparing a glance at my arm, which was already starting to heal, the bruises changing from deep purples to yellows.
I couldn’t find the words to defend myself. I had only wanted a moment outside. The pain in my arm throbbed, but I could feel it knotting back together faster than it should.
“This has gone too far.” Mother’s voice turned cold. “You’ll stay in your wing, with posted guards. No more reckless behavior.” Mother turned to someone. They hovered at the edge of my memory. “Start the wards. Make sure she can’t leave unless I command it.”
Mother, with a dagger handed to her, slices the blade across her hand, and then points it at me.
The man — who held me — even through the clouds, his blurry shape was tense with frustration. “You can’t do this. She’s just a child.”
“On whose terms?” Mother’s voice cuts through the warmth of the man’s as she grabs my injured arm, and then runs the blade along my palm as blood drips onto the floor. “She’ll expose us all.”
The arguing after dissolves into static, the memory fading, slipping through my fingers like they always do. The only thing that remains is the vague shape of the man and the echo of his voice, filling me with a deep, unexplainable sense of loss.
A sharp tug pulls me back to the present, a jolt I can’t ignore. The vampire studies me with that same gaze that pierces through my haze, a spark of something ignites in his eyes, and I even think I see the flakes of orange within his cerulean irises burning brighter. The blood on his hand has started to dry and coagulate as he lets his hands fall to his waist. His shadows gather at his feet, but reaching out toward me like lost souls craving comfort. But as the shadows crept closer, they began to dissolve, wisps of darkness retreating into the void.
“The way you’re acting tells me there’s a lot more going on in that head of yours.” His eyes widen quickly before that smug smirk moves across his face. “You’ve been through quite a lot, haven’t you? I can see it in your eyes. Quite an open book,” he says, wiping his hand on his cloak, dry crusted blood flaking off. His attention flickers between his hands and my expression, as if he could sense my turmoil battling within me. “Unfortunately, this book hasn’t revealed what you are — yet.” His eyes flash over me, penetrating and curious. “But you aren’t a bat, are you?” He chuckles while his elongated fangs seem shorter in the moonlight. “Thankfully, although that does render you more appetizing.”
I scoff loudly, as my focus switches and the memory fades just as fast as it showed up. The idiocy of the vampire’s smug demeanor lits my storm. “I hope your finger gets infected,” I muttered under my breath, but the words were laced with a pain I couldn’t ignore. My memory, and the loss it left in my chest, clings to me, but it is something else that moves inside me.
I watch as the vampire’s expression changes, a flicker of surprise crossing his sharp features, and a twisted satisfaction begins to bloom in my chest.
Yet beneath the satisfaction lurks a gnawing worry. My power to bring death haunted me, a dark whisper in the back of my mind, a companion to the beast inside. I don’t truly want to hurt anyone unless I need to or Mother commanded it, but something about him… I didn’t take too much, did I? The thought grips me, twisting like a dagger in my gut. I don’t want to hurt him — why do I even care? But the memory of my power surging, the look of the first, as the light left his eyes, clings to me like a shadow.
The vampire stumbles backward, confusion etching across his face as his eyes move between me and his hands. My heart races, my breaths quickening.
I lean against a moss-covered tree for support, the cool bark grounding me as my heart thunders in my chest, each beat louder than the one before. A subtle panic that grows more insistent. I flutter my wings, attempting to disperse the coldness creeping across my skin, but the weight of my defiance only masks the anxiety roiling within me. Did I hurt him? I… My mind races with the implications — what if my power took too much? Claws echo in my mind. I glance into the darkening forest, the shadows fading, and unseen creatures lurking, hungry for an easy meal.
“Me? No, I am a totally normal bat.” I straighten, forcing a shaky breath as a fierce grin creeps onto my face, though my wings tremble slightly at my sides. “Perfectly, absolutely, utterly, normal,” I say, but beneath the bravado, the thought sinks like a dagger.
Shit. I am weak, vulnerable, and an easy snack… and I have just put myself in even more danger.