Chapter 19 – Dahlia
Dahlia
After Val told me he was a vampire, everything became easier between us.
Not that things didn’t feel easy before but that was always confined to sex.
Sex with him felt as natural as breathing, our bodies were so in tune with each other that it felt like I had been with him before somehow, like my hands and my lips and my tongue knew all the perfect places on his body.
I knew that he liked to be kissed right behind the ear, I knew he liked his balls tugged and played with, I knew that he was ticklish on his inner thigh, to the point of him exploding into a panicked laughing fit (and I also knew when to use that to my advantage).
But I digress. With the truth out, our relationship sifted into one of comfort, a feeling of ease that was able to coexist alongside the unstoppable swarm of butterflies that filled my stomach with each aching second.
Valtu excited me like nothing else in this world had.
I was starting to prefer love over death.
We ended up talking all night. I had to play the role of a human who knew nothing of real vampires, so I asked all the right questions and he gave me all the right answers.
This was all stuff I knew, but after the basics were done (“Can you create other vampires? Do you need blood to live? Does it need to be human blood?”) we started delving into the personal stuff. This is what I was here for.
“You said you were born in Finland,” I muse, tracing my fingertips over the scar that his knife had left in his chest. The mark was almost gone now. By the time the sun comes up, I’m pretty sure there will be no trace of it. “What year was that?”
“Technically it was the Kingdom of Sweden at the time. Early 1700s. When the Russians took over.”
“And…who were you?”
He cranes his head to look down at me and smiles, holding me closer to him. “I was me. Valtu Aminoff.”
“You weren’t a count then.”
“No, I was a peasant,” he says. “Far less glamorous.”
I try to picture him as a peasant and suddenly I have a vision so clear it’s like I’d seen it with my own eyes. There’s something so damn familiar about him too, seeing him in breeches, a white shirt, surrounded by a wheat field that it takes me a moment to realize I’m not actually in the past.
I blink and bring myself back around. “So…what was it like back then?”
He exhales, his fingers playing with strands of my hair. “It was hard. Punishing. There was some room for pleasure and beauty but in general, life was not meant to be enjoyed, only endured.”
“Some today would argue that hasn’t changed.”
“Unlucky ones, I suppose,” he muses. “Not that I didn’t have my fair share of endurance. A lot of my life was…less than favorable.”
“Were you married?”
“I was,” he says. “Only twice, though.”
“Vampires or human?”
“Humans,” he says. “At first I didn’t know any better. I was adopted, back in the day. I didn’t know I was a vampire. I wasn’t raised as one.”
That’s news to me. “You’re kidding…”
He gives his head a shake. “Nope. So I got married to a woman in my small village. Ana.”
“What did she do when she discovered you were a vampire?’
“She never got a chance to. She died during childbirth.”
“Oh,” I say to him, feeling awful. “I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be. It was a long time ago. I cared for her, but I didn’t love her.
Back then you didn’t marry for love, not most of the time.
You did it because the woman was pretty or had good genes and the man had money or land.
There was always an excuse, always a reason for it.
Love was an afterthought. And anyway, for me it was the first loss of many. ”
“So if that was your first wife…”
What happened to your second?
“I was in love with a woman I met shortly after Ana died. I never got a chance to marry her though. She also died. And my wife after that, a century later? She died too.” I feel his eyes on me and I glance up at him.
He gives me a soft, melancholy smile. “When you’re in love with a human, it always ends in death.
It’s a hard thing to accept but it’s the way our lives are. ”
Meaning, there might be a reason why he hasn’t told me he loves me. He won’t let himself love me. And why would he? Why let love in if you know it’s going to end in death and heartache, something you’ll have to live with for a literal eternity?
“Oh,” I say softly. “So I suppose it’s better you stay with vampires. They aren’t going anywhere.”
“True.” He makes a huff of amusement. “But vampires are still difficult people to be with. If I ever met a vampire I could love, things might be different, but I haven’t.”
“You’re picky,” I tease him.
“Yeah. I am,” he says, giving me a squeeze. “And I’m glad. Because you’re here.”
“A human,” I point out.
“I know,” he says, his eyes taking on a sad sheen.
I need to change the subject. Talking about death and lost loves doesn’t feel right. Even though I’m curious to know more, I don’t want Valtu to have to dwell on the sorrows of the past.
“So do you not hang out with other vampires, or…?”
“They are the only ones I hang out with,” he says. “Believe it or not, but you’re the exception.”
I suspected that but didn’t know for sure. I can’t help but feel flattered. “So where do you hang out? Where do you meet them?” I ask, trying to get him to give up more info. If I can get him to start talking about Saara and Aleksi, that would be a good start.
“We always find each other it seems,” he says. “Helps that we have a club.”
“Vampires Only Club?”
“No, humans can join too…but there’s a, how shall we call it, a fee?”
“Okay, tell me about it…”
“I could show you.”
“Really?” I honestly didn’t think he’d want to bring me to the Red Room, though I suppose it’s only fair if other humans are able to go. “Wait, what’s the fee?”
He clears his throat. “If you don’t mind paying the fee.”
“What’s the fee?” I repeat.
“Blood. You pay in blood.”
My brows go up. “And you think I want to…”
“The club is called the Red Room. It’s a safe place for vampires to feed on willing participants. The humans there want to be of service. They get off on it. They like the kink of it. Whatever their deal is, it’s like donating blood at a blood bank, just a little sexier and edgier than that.”
That’s putting it mildly.
“But blood is the price,” he goes on. “You can’t just go and observe. And everyone who enters is vetted, signs a contract, everything.”
“That’s impressive. Who started it?”
He pauses. “Me.”
“You? The one they call Dracula?”
He sighs. “Yes. Let’s just say I used to be a lot worse than I am now.
Maybe this is me making amends for it, I don’t know.
But it’s better this way. We have a steady supply of blood, and we don’t have to kill innocent people.
” His expression darkens at the end, so much so that he looks haunted.
Maybe he’s reliving all the people he did have to kill, but I don’t want to think about that either.
It will only remind me of why I was sent here, and how I’m not different than he is.
“Where is this club?”
“You’ll never guess,” he says teasingly.
Since I already know, I don’t bother playing the game.
“So when can we go?”
He blinks. “Really? You still want to go?”
“It depends. Who am I giving my blood to? You?”
His nostrils flare and the sheet that half-covers our naked bodies jerks and I know he’s got an instant hard-on.
“Yes,” he rasps. “Only me. You’re mine, Dahlia.
No one else gets to feed on you but me.” He swallows hard and I feel the heat in his eyes.
“I have to tell you…I’ve been dying for a taste. ”
Holy fuck. Shit just got real.
“All this time,” he goes on, his voice low and raspy, “I’ve sampled the rest of you. Your tongue, your ass, your cunt. The taste of you is exquisite. But your blood, Dahlia. Your blood is something I’ve been craving more than anything else.”
Jesus. I thought the idea of him drinking my blood would have scared me but it just turns me on instead.
“All this talk about craving,” I say with a sly grin, kissing his chest and making my way down his body to put his cock to good use.
“Are you nervous?” Valtu asks me as we walk down the aisles toward the door at the back of the library.
I give him a look, like, what do you think?
It’s past midnight and everything is dark.
He let us into the school using his key card and the library is especially eerie tonight, probably because I know what I’m here to do.
This morning I told him I wanted to go to the Red Room and for him to feed on me there.
I didn’t agree to public sex or anything like that, but I did say he could have my blood.
Only him, of course. It’s Saturday, so we didn’t have to go to school, we just stayed at his house, and all I could think of was tonight, what was going to happen while trying not to psych myself out.
Now that I’m here and on the menu, I’m having second thoughts.
He chuckles. “You’ll be fine. I’ve got you. I won’t let anything bad happen to you.”
“Except the fact that you’re going to suck my blood,” I mumble.
He stops in front of the door, hand to my shoulder, a grave expression in his dark eyes. “Listen, we don’t have to do this. I get my blood from other people, that’s how this has always worked. I don’t have to drink from the woman I’m with.”
I nod, rubbing my lips together. “Yeah. I know but, I don’t know, I guess I feel territorial about you.” For some reason, the act of feeding seems just as intimate as sex. The idea of him drinking from another person burns a hole in my stomach.
He gives me a soft smile as he squeezes my shoulder. “And that’s how I feel about you. Which is why, if you still do want to do this, it will cement you as mine in front of the other vampires.”
“Can’t you just tell them I’m yours?”