Bloodlust (The Blood Trilogy #1)
1
Kylo
The DJ’s music thumps in Kylo’s chest as he sways his body, arms rolling over his head rhythmically to the beat. Bright lights flash and flicker in shades of red, pink, purple, and blue, strobing across the floor, highlighting the sweat glistening off of each body dancing wildly around him. As the song comes to an end, he bounces out of the crowd and heads to the kitchen; the fatigue from dancing finally catches up to him. He smiles and nods at people in greeting as he walks by, heading straight for the island to grab a water bottle, which he instantly gulps down, crushing the plastic before tossing it in the recycling.
“Kylo! Great to see you, man!” a familiar face shouts as he enters the kitchen.
“Thanks! Great to be here,” he laughs, giving the man a high-five as they pass each other. He eyes the dancefloor once more before deciding he needs a break from the muggy and loud environment.
Hopping out onto the porch, the brisk night air is automatically a relief. The breeze, rolling by in gentle waves, cools his damp skin as he hoists himself up onto the porch’s wooden railing, feet dangling above the ground below. Reaching into his grey denim pants’ pocket, he pulls out a small blunt and a lighter. The wind makes it difficult to spark a flame, but after a few tries within the shelter of his cupped hand, it lights and singes the end of his roll. He takes a deep puff, holding it in his lungs as he lowers his hands to the railing, before allowing the smoke to slowly leave his lips with a delighted exhale. Wish I could party every weekend, he thinks, staring off into the darkened street. I know I need to study to pass my classes, but there’s nothing quite as freeing as some good pot, good music, and good company… and dancing like I’ll die tomorrow. This shit’s the best.
A handful of bodies slip in and out from the house. Those that notice Kylo—hidden by the dark of the porch overhang—give him kind goodbyes as they leave, and he wishes them a good night. Though, it’s not long before it’s quiet, peaceful, aside from the muted thumping of party music leaking from inside the college house’s walls. He takes another puff, letting it ruminate in his lungs for less time than the first, exhaling into the breeze before he hears a scoff nearby. Turning his head to the sound, he notes a figure near the curb, cloaked in shadow. He almost sinks into the night, dressed entirely in black layers as if he is a part of it.
“You get caught with that,” a deep voice says dryly, “you’ll get kicked out.”
"Ah”—he points the blunt at the figure—“but the key is to not get caught.” Kylo’s brows raise as he chuckles to himself. “Want a puff? It’s the good stuff!” he sings with a chipper melody. The moonlight beams down upon the man’s face—his long black hair swept into a low bun only spotlights his pale complexion, as smooth as porcelain—and illuminates his already bloodshot eyes that linger on Kylo. He stares for what seems like minutes in Kylo’s delayed perception of time, though is only a second or two, before saying with a controlled frown, “No,” and looking off.
“Mm, that’s okay.” Kylo shrugs calmly, not bothered. It’s when the man looks away that Kylo squints to get a better look, his ears pinning back as he thinks. When he comes to a realization, he relaxes, blots out his blunt, sticks it back into his pocket, and hops off the porch railing onto the yard a few feet below. Walking over to the mysterious and tall glass of handsome, he asks casually, “You’re a vampire, right?” Straight to the point, with the help of Mary Jane calming his inhibitions.
The vampire takes a deep, almost annoyed breath before looking at Kylo, now standing before him. “Why?”
“You don’t look so good,” he says, brows knitting in slight concern. “I mean!”—his eyes widen with how rude that must’ve come off—“You look great. Beautiful, even.” He tries to cover his tracks, his words flowing out a little too easily. “But you look thirsty.” He taps underneath his own eye twice to emphasize the red sclerae he noticed—which look even darker and irritated from a few feet away.
The vampire’s frown deepens as he narrows his bloodshot eyes at Kylo. “I’m fine,” he spits through a tensed jaw, but the huskiness in his voice is common in vampires who need to feed.
A few things Kylo’s picked up from vamps on campus during his past few years attending Obscura Academy:
They are not like the vampires in the movies. No shifting into bats, no immortality, no bursting into flames in the sun, and no mind control…that he knows of. The cafeteria supplies prepackaged blood on a schedule, a few times a week, but when a vamp is getting thirsty, the whites of their eyes start to turn red and bloodshot. It can get real gnarly if left for too long, and eventually their bodies will just…stop? Or something like that. Sunlight sensitivity is a skin condition. Vamps are often seen with some sort of skin protection during sunny days, like sunscreen, or parasols, or layered clothes, or big hats.
Being a werewolf himself, and not having personally interacted with many vampires while attending Obscura, that’s about where his knowledge on bloodsuckers ends.
With his hands deep in his black pockets, the vampire gestures a shoulder toward the house still booming behind them. “Party sucks; I came out for air. I’m fine. Go back to your joint.”
Kylo looks at the house, then back at the vampire, scratching the back of his head sheepishly as he thinks. He hates seeing people struggle, a trait he picked up from his mother, and the need to help nags at him in the back of his head. “Look…I know the blood supply doesn’t reopen until Monday, so…” Slowly, he reaches up to the collar of his shirt and pulls it away from his skin, leaning his neck out in the opposite direction. “If you need a drink,” he offers. He’s never done this before—offered his blood to a vampire—but he’s never seen one with eyes quite as bloodshot before either. It looks like it hurts, and he doesn’t blame him for his snappy attitude if he’s starving and struggling to get through the weekend.
The vampire’s gaze burns into his bare neck, as if stunned by the offer—or fighting the temptation. “Then you also know we aren’t allowed to feed on random idiots,” he hisses. “I don’t know if you’re trying to be funny, but you’re not.”
“Gods, no! Not at all!” Kylo exclaims, eyes wide and apologetic. “Starvation is serious, I just wanted to help. I didn’t mean to offend you. I’m sorry.” His pointed ears pin back with guilt, realizing he might’ve misstepped, not knowing much about vampire culture and etiquette.
The vampire’s glare remains, despite his eyes drifting to Kylo’s neck again, and he attempts to clear his throat with an internal cough.
“I-I can go, if you want. As long as you’re sure you’ll be alright,” he says awkwardly. I might be overstepping, but I can’t just leave him to starve for another two days, it feels wrong—unless that’s what he prefers…
The vamp looks up at the house, and Kylo turns to follow his gaze, when suddenly he demands, “Come here,” and brushes past him, disappearing into the shadows and shrubbery between the party house and its neighbour. Kylo’s ears perk up with his brows. Looking around and finding no one else around, he follows through the tall, uncut grass and unkempt bushes between the houses. They walk nearly half way down the length of the property into the dark before the vampire suddenly grabs him, pinning him to the siding with strong hands. The man, cut straight from the night, is even more mesmerizing up close. Framed by stray stands, his face is sharp yet clean—with a straight, rounded nose, pillow-soft lips, and a jaw as strong as stone—as if carved from the finest clay. But most captivating of all are his almond eyes. The irises locked on Kylo are beautiful and dark, like burnt cedar enveloped by the red, fiery glow tingeing his sclerae—shadowed planets suspended in a crimson galaxy that Kylo could get lost in like an aimless astronaut.
“You don’t tell anyone about this,” he growls.
Kylo’s eyes widen and his cheeks flush a soft shade of pink, grounding him from the galactic journey of his stare, his ears pinning to the sides of his head once again. “Not a soul, promise,” he says, soft but confident.
The vampire takes Kylo’s jaw and turns his head, exposing his neck. His breath is hot against his skin, especially against the cool breeze flowing between the houses. Leaning down a few inches, his lips press gently against his skin, causing Kylo’s cheeks to become even more rosy.
Side-eyeing the vampire about to chow down on his neck, he whispers, “Is…is it going to hurt?” just before teeth graze and subsequently sink into his flesh. Kylo inhales sharply, his muscles tensing at the initial sting, but a second after fangs slip into his neck, he can feel something inject into him, causing him to suddenly relax. His whole body goes weak, warm, and fuzzy as the vampire begins to drink in slow, meticulous pulls of blood. It begins to feel as if his blunt was much stronger than anticipated.
With every sip from his veins, a pleasurable tingling sensation ripples across his body, making him weak in the knees. In an attempt to stay upright, he reaches out and grabs the vampire by the waist. In return, a hand drifts down to grip his side, too, securing him in place. Their bodies pressed into each other makes the exchange much more intimate as the stranger’s head nuzzles deeper against Kylo’s throat, sucking harder. He sinks into the sensation, letting out huffs of hot breaths that begin to take on very quiet moans at the beginning of each exhale. His eyes struggle to stay open, eventually shutting tightly as the force of the vampire’s drinking becomes stronger. His knees buckle and his head lightens from his blood draining quicker than his body can replenish it.
Before he knows it, fangs are no longer piercing his neck. Instead, a tongue is gliding along the two holes leftover, which sends a shiver running through his body. Kylo melts into the vampire’s grip, his face glowing bright red despite his current lack of blood. The vampire pulls away, turning Kylo’s jaw to force their eyes to meet as he licks away the ruby staining his lips. The sclerae that were once nearing the shade of a young poppy’s petals are now lightened, quickly fading back to white.
“That was…,” he breathes, unable to finish the sentence. He’s dazed and pleasantly woozy, his mind too far in the clouds to formulate thoughts. Taking a step between them, he staggers, catching himself with a hand on the vampire’s chest.
“Where’s your room? I’ll walk you back.” His deep voice now low and clear, as if the blood has soothed his aching, scratchy throat.
“West…campus.” Kylo closes his eyes to think. “Building two, room two-thirteen.”
A few seconds pass before the stranger wraps an arm around him, pulling him taut to his body to stabilize him as they walk beyond the house, into the quiet stillness of the night. The west dorms aren’t terribly far, but Kylo would have never made it on his own in his current state—drunk, high, bitten, and drained.
“Do you…feel better?” he asks, his brain starting to move, just at a very slow speed. That felt so good. Why did that feel so good?
The vampire sighs before mumbling, “I do. Thanks. But maybe don’t go around offering yourself to vampires. It isn’t…safe.”
“But you’re safe…safe and handsome… If the cafeteria”—he looks away, his voice trailing off as his brain loads his train of thought—“is closed again”—he looks back at the man walking him—“you can have more.” His eyes are kind, caring, even in the midst of his loopiness.
The vampire’s breath hitches and he looks away, staring down the dark street, the building in sight. “That’s just the post-venom high talking.”
“I took venom?!” Kylo’s exclamation is quiet, but his face scrunches in shock and confused worrisome. “I’ve never done that drug before…”
“It calms you. It’s probably why it felt the way it did.”
There’s a beat of silence as Kylo puts the pieces together. “ Ohhh .” He pauses to think. “I’d do that again.”
The vampire helps him into the building and up a set of stairs until they reach his room number. Kylo fumbles in his pocket, pulling out his keys, which he immediately drops.
“Dammit…” He reaches down to grab them but stumbles forward and falls out of the vampire’s grip, bracing himself on the ground with both hands as he laughs at himself. The vampire snatches the keys from the ground and unlocks the door himself, pulling Kylo up to his feet with ease and the newfound strength of his feed, ushering him through the door.
“Just drink some water and go to bed. You’ll feel fine tomorrow,” he says flatly.
Kylo giggles, stumbling into his dorm with a smile on his face. “Thanks, Mister Vampire! Hope you feel better,” he says happily as he manages to stagger to his bed, flopping onto his back. Without another word, the vampire slips out of the room and closes the door gently behind him.
The hottest vampire I’ve ever seen just fed on me…and, damn, it felt good, Kylo thinks, imagining those striking, dark, healing eyes as he licked his lips of his blood. Too bad I never got his name.