Chapter 44
FORTY-FOUR
There was this need inside me that could not be controlled.
I would feed for three to four days at a time and then return to the cabin, to Draven.
During those times I would black out, only to be plagued by memories that were not my own.
I hated it. Though once I got back to Draven, I would grow hungry again and leave, forgetting the torment it caused me.
It was a never-ending cycle of me leaving and then Draven helping me.
I’d been in town longer than I had before, nights blending into weeks as I kept myself hidden away during daylight hours in the basement of a kind old man.
He welcomed me without knowing what I was, offering shelter from the storm.
Now, he lies among dozens of bodies, decaying in the corner of the basement.
I did not want to kill any of them, but it was easier, feeding from them without glimpsing their memories and thoughts.
Though I was full, I felt empty inside. I felt like an animal, and I didn’t want Draven to see me in this manner.
I knew he was searching for me. I kept hidden.
How could I confess the atrocious acts I’d committed?
The air in the basement was stale, the scent of rotting flesh was abhorrent, and I was not even hungry, but I felt bored.
I stalked through the streets every night looking for anyone to seduce.
It was a game to me, flirting with the townsfolk, igniting desire within them.
“Don’t play with your food,” my mother’s voice would echo in my mind at times. Yet, it was exhilarating.
I would lure them home, hoping for an exciting night of intimacy. They would step inside, their hearts brimming with anticipation, only to have their necks snapped before they could even taste fear.
It was better that way, I convinced myself as I fed from them. For the both of us.
I strolled through the bustling streets by the river, the hustle of life swirling around me. A sudden chill prickled the hairs on the back of my neck. Instinctively, I turned, my gaze scanning the crowded streets in search of the source of my unease.
And then, a figure rushed past me in a blur of motion, and their presence sent a jolt of recognition coursing through my veins. A halo of golden hair-streaked by, and if my heart still beat, it would have faltered at the sight of Vail.
I stood frozen for but a moment, then reacted.
Pulling my hood low, I followed her. An impulse surged within me to call out her name, but I stifled it.
She believed I was dead. It pained me to know I couldn’t speak to her, couldn’t embrace her.
Silently, I trailed behind her through the bustling crowd, wondering why she had ventured so far from home.
She pressed on, her steps carrying her farther toward the docks.
At one point, she paused and looked around.
I saw a drunken sailor passed out on a pile of sacks and I straddled him; if she were to look at us, she wouldn’t see anything but two lovers in the night.
I perched on my prey, waiting until I could no longer hear Vail’s footsteps.
My intention was to pursue her once more, but my bloodlust surged too fiercely.
With a weak human beneath me, what choice did I have?
I sank my fangs into his neck and allowed his blood to flow into me. When I was satisfied, I got up and turned around. I felt a trickle of blood running down my chin. Suddenly, I was blinded by a burning light.
With a hiss of pain, I shielded my face, but before I could react further, an invisible force wrestled control from me, pinning my limbs at my sides with an unyielding grip.
Panic surged through me and as I struggled against the unseen restraint, my mind raced with fear.
I felt someone reach for my hood and throw it back away from my face, the light still blinding and burning my eyes.
“Not possible” I heard a familiar voice say. The light dimmed and Vail stood staring back at me, her blue eyes wide and her fingers glowing with a faint golden light.
“Shape shifter, reveal yourself!” With a determined air, Vail stepped forward, her movements deliberate as she began to murmur an incantation.
Frustrated, Vail threw her hands toward me, and a force of wind knocked me over.
I hit the ground with a painful thud, unable to break my fall with my arms. Standing above me, she peered down, her boot pressing firmly against my chest. With a wooden stake extracted from her boot, she held it poised above my heart.
Even in my winded state, I could see tears streaming down her face.
“You have three seconds to tell me what is going on, or I will kill you,” she declared, her resolve unwavering despite the tears that stained her cheeks.
“Vail, I need your help,” I said.
She rose to her feet, and from her pocket she drew a closed fist, then opened it to release a handful of smoky, pungent powder. With a single breath, she blew it into my face. My eyelids grew heavy, and I fell asleep.
I awoke in a small room. Simple wood furniture decorated the place, and tattered curtains covered the window. The murmur of voices drifted from downstairs, indicating I was lodged at an inn. I tried to get up, but my body was physically tied to the bed by thick rope. Dryness clawed at my throat.
Vail sat in the corner, her form shrouded in the dim light of the room.
She was sharpening a wooden stake, her coat draped over the back of the chair.
She was wearing a dark blue dress that nearly blended into the shadows, holding herself with practised composure.
Yet her red, tear-swollen eyes betrayed her.
“Vail—” I began, but she cut me off.
“Rosalia, what did you do?” she said using my full name. She never used my full name.
“Please, Vail, let me explain.”
“Explain? You want to explain how you had me believing my best friend was dead for months? How I mourned you, had to tell my grandmother and the whole town that you were gone? Only to discover you are a Blood Hunter—a monster who not only killed our fathers but your own mother, too?” She got up, her anger propelling her forward.
She held the wooden stake tightly in her grasp.
“What if I do not want to hear your explanation? I could kill you right now, you know.”
“I understand, but please, listen for a moment.”
I had to tell her the truth.
Vail closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and nodded slightly, signalling me to speak.
I recounted every detail; I spoke of Draven’s research, of Dr. Montgomery’s drunken visit to our home, the way I felt when I found out that my husband was a Blood Hunter. Each word felt like a burden lifted from my shoulders, yet the vulnerability of my admission left me feeling exposed.
Tears welled in my eyes as I confessed how I was attacked and kidnapped, how Draven turned me into a Blood Hunter at my own request, my words heavy with shame. I spoke of the hunger that gnawed at my insides, the innocent lives I had taken.
Then I asked her for help; I pleaded for any assistance to free myself from my relentless bloodlust. As I spoke, a faint whisper teased at the edges of my mind, wishing that perhaps Vail would take pity on me, that she would release me from the confines of my restraints and offer me a chance to run away.
When I finished, we sat in silence, the weight of our words hanging heavy in the air between us. I saw the truth reflected in Vail's eyes—a truth that cut deeper than any blade. The rapid beat of Vail's heart echoed in the stillness.
“You lied to me,” she finally said, her voice laced with accusation and betrayal.
“I am deeply sorrowful. I believed it would be for the best, for both of us. Though I was mistaken.”
“After you left, Imalda came to my grandmother’s house and handed me the letter.
I have never felt such heartbreak.” Her voice quivered as she took a deep breath.
“Though a flicker inside me knew something was wrong. I did not believe the lies that filled the page. I went to Thornwood and Imalda tried to convince me that everything was all right. I knew you were not dead. I suspected Draven took his new bride away,” she said.
“Draven is kind and a good man. Yes, he can be complicated. However, he is not a monster.”
Vail sat there not convinced. “What are you doing here anyway?” I asked when she didn’t speak.
“I am aiding the Slayers now. Our presence here is due to the mysterious disappearance of numerous individuals, which has led the authorities to suspect the involvement of a Blood Hunter. It appears their suspicions were correct, and I fear you may be at the centre of it.”
“When did you develop an interest in helping the Slayers?” I asked her.
“When I read the letter about your supposed death, I was inconsolable. Then, one evening in town, I crossed paths with an individual who spoke of a witch whose talents might be of great utility. That is when I chose to ally myself with them. It provided an outlet for the anger I harboured toward Blood Hunters. And would you believe it? I have spent the winter employed by the Slayers, and I must confess … I am quite skilled at it.”
“Are you saying you kill people now?” I asked her.
“Blood Hunters are not people,” Vail spat. “I thought you were dead.”
“Do you feel a beating heart?” I asked. “I am dead.” I coughed and blood spilled out of my mouth, I tilted my head to the side allowing it to dribble out and down my chin. “What did you do to me?”
“I am attempting to aid you, Rosalia,” Vail said, taking her bag and placing it on the table.
She rummaged around in it for a moment and pulled out a vial with dark red liquid.
“I cannot believe I was dispatched here to kill a Blood Hunter and now I am harboring one in my room,” she muttered to herself, shaking her head.
Vail turned and instructed me to open my mouth, “Drink this. Since you are a Blood Hunter, I have mixed my blood into this potion to help you digest it. I cannot say for certain if it will work but let us give it a try.”
She poured the liquid down my throat, and as the concoction flowed into me, Vail's memories flooded my mind, fleeting yet vivid. Vail and her grandmother in the kitchen cooking. Vail and I laughing together strolling down a forest trail. Vail sharing a tender moment with a beautiful woman, in her bedroom. I gazed at Vail, knowing she remained unaware that I could see her memories through her blood. I hesitated to reveal this newfound ability, especially since she was extending her help to me. But it seemed that I wasn’t the only one keeping secrets from the other.
“This elixir is meant to suppress your appetite. While typically used for human food, I believe it will serve a similar purpose. You can drink it daily until you begin to feel better.” Vail explained.
My body felt good; I felt full.
“Is this common?” she asked softly.
“Is what common?”
“This … bloodlust.”
“Draven mentioned that it is common for newly turned Blood Hunters to endure an insatiable hunger. I am fortunate to have him. He is my anchor. Yet, when I am here in town and the hunger overwhelms me, I don’t want his help or to return to him. All I desire is …more,” I said.
“I will help you,” Vail said.
“Why?” I asked.
“Despite the fact that you are now a Blood Hunter, which contradicts everything I stand for, you are still my friend, and you are alive. I would rather have you as a Blood Hunter in my life than gone forever.”
February 23, 1892
I stayed in the inn for a couple of days; Vail mixed potions infused with her blood for me.
I made a conscious effort to ignore the memories that drifted through my mind with each sip, focusing instead on my gratitude for her assistance.
Throughout my stay, she remained by my side, and after the first day, she untied my bindings.
Yet, she chose to sleep in the room next to mine, clearly hesitant to trust me enough to rest beside me.
As the days went by my bloodlust subsided. When I felt hungry, it was no longer an overwhelming need to feed, just an uncomfortable feeling in my stomach.
“Rosie, I have to return home,” Vail announced as she entered the room to check on me. “The Slayers might start to worry if I am away for too long. They might send more people, and I think our task here is complete anyway.”
Part of me resisted her departure. Having Vail back in my life had reignited a sense of joy within me. But I knew this wouldn’t be forever.
“When spring arrives and the snow melts, Draven and I will return home. Please do come visit us,” I told her.
“I will, and perhaps I can help you more. I have been thinking, and I wonder if my grandmother’s books have any spells on walking in the sun,” she said optimistically.
“Draven has tried everything,” I told her, not wanting to give up her joy.
“He did not have access to grandmother’s spell books. They are old and filled with lots of magic no one has heard of. I am positive there might be a spell, but I have to be careful. She and I aren’t on the best terms.”
“Why is that?” I asked.
She took my hand. “I found the letters you wrote to me, after your mother’s passing, when you first arrived at Thornwood.
They were hidden at the back of a cupboard among my grandmother’s belongings.
She had read them and hid them from me. She claimed she didn’t want me touched by the darkness in them.
I understand, now, why she was suspicious. ”
“I’m sorry she kept them from you and that you two are fighting.”
“We will get past it,” she said. “You are my friend. I must also take care of you.”
“Thank you,” I whispered and moved past her, taking my coat to leave. She stopped me and pulled me into a hug.
I softened, nuzzling my head into her neck, savouring her warmth. “You smell the same,” she said, catching me off guard.
“Pardon?” I said laughing.
“People always talk about how Blood Hunters smell like death and decay … but you smell the same,” she remarked, pulling back, and smiling at me warmly. “Be safe,” Vail added, and she kissed me goodbye on the cheek.
On my walk back to the cabin I looked down. Amongst the melting snow, small snowdrop flowers emerged. I knew that brighter days were around the corner.