2. Cyan
Chapter 2
Cyan
I stared at the dried stick between my fingers and groaned. It sucked being the guy who drew the shortest straw, especially when it came to something like taking on a responsibility I didn’t even want.
A blood pet was the last thing I needed. I didn’t even want to care for a pet hamster.
“Congratulations, buddy.” Desmond slapped me on the shoulder, his fangs poking through his lips as he tried not to laugh. “I wish you and your blood pet a long, happy life together.”
“Man, fuck you.” I dropped the inch-long piece of straw and scraped my boot over it until it was dust. “This agreement is bullshit. Why are we still doing this with the humans, anyway?”
“They need to remember whose territory they’re in.” Thorne, our clan leader, lit up a cigarette, his cheeks sinking in as he dragged on it. The scent of darakt, a fine mixture of powdered blood and herbs for flavor, filled the air. “Humans are funny creatures. They insist on declaring their independence, then in the same breath, cry for safety and protection.” He exhaled a cloud of red smoke that matched his eyes. “This is the price they pay for being spoiled children who get everything they want.”
“Why do we have to take their offering though?” I ran a hand over the short buzz of my hair. “Why not let the Marrowers or Carpe Noctem have the blood pet?”
Thorne huffed irritably. “Because we’re the ruling clan now. Their sacrifice is ours to take by right. It’s been that way since before you were around, pup.” He stuffed his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket, then kicked my boot on his way to the garage. “Let’s go,” he said around the cigarette in his mouth. “Time to collect our due and get this over with.”
I got up from the couch with a groan, following him. Desmond came after me, still chuckling at my expense. Rhain was already in the garage, the big long-haired fucker topping off the fluids in his motorcycle. His face was so stony, I didn’t think it was possible for him to crack a smile.
It was just the four of us riding out. No need for the entire clan to bring home one human. An entire fleet of bloodthirsty vampires on motorcycles would probably scare them into doing something stupid, like offering up ten more of themselves as blood pets. No, thank you.
The roll-up door lifted smoothly as our bikes roared to life. It was a clear night, the sky dotted with stars and a sliver of crescent moon. It was a perfect night to go out to Pulse Point, our club in the downtown strip just off the Heart region, maybe drink from a fiery dragon shifter or that sexy little brusang that always flirted with me.
But no. Instead, I was riding out to the North Ribs. To the last-remaining all-human settlement to retrieve what was essentially my human wife. Or husband, if they offered up a male.
Not that it was exactly that kind of thing. Relationships with blood pets sometimes turned sexual, but not always. Males of any species didn’t interest me that way. Strictly speaking, blood pets were long-term suppliers of blood. In addition to feeding from them, I would be expected to keep and care for them, like I would any being living in my home.
But the part that really pissed me off about the whole exchange was the expectation of exclusivity.
That was exactly why I’d never claimed a blood pet before. I was a young vampire, only one-hundred-and-fifteen, and had zero desire to tie myself down to a single blood source. Why would I when there were so many different flavors to sample? And if tasting happened to lead to sex, well, that was just a bonus.
In another three, maybe four hundred years, maybe I’d consider settling down. Hell, the vast majority of our clan didn’t have blood pets or the far more rare and sought-after, blood mates. So yeah, I was pretty damn sour on losing hard in our little lottery. I felt like the humans in the old TV shows that got forced into marrying young because they got caught making out in a barn. What a sad life.
As the four of us rode through the night, I was already thinking of how to get rid of this burden I’d been saddled with. Maybe I can pass the pet off to someone else. It shouldn’t be too hard to find a vampire with a boring palate.
Humans were common enough in Sanguine that I’d already sampled a good number of them, either at the blood bank for a quick fill, or one of our clubs in a more salacious setting. What I’d found out, and most vampires agreed, was that humans tasted bland.
Their blood didn’t taste bad by any means, but there was nothing to be excited about from those veins. From what little I knew about human food, their blood could best be compared to a bowl of rice with no seasonings, or a plain slice of bread. It could sate hunger for a time and contained enough nutrition to survive for a while, but that didn’t mean the experience of having it was good.
Sure, there were small flavor variances here and there, but nothing compared to the wild spiciness of a dragon shifter’s blood. Or the warm, comforting mouth feel of a fellow vampire. Werewolf and angel blood were only available in black market channels, but those were said to be a near-religious experience. I had made it a personal goal to try them at least once.
But instead, here I was giving up my variety-loving palate for the same boring meal every day. Kill me.
The ride could have taken all night and it still would have been too short. The lights of Sapien, the human settlement, appeared on the horizon after only two hours. I squinted at the increasing brightness as we got closer. It was easy to forget humans were diurnal creatures and needed a ton of extra light to see at night. Most of the ones living among us in Sanguine had adapted to nocturnal schedules and they always had lights with them.
The community was spread out over several acres with many mobile-looking homes set up on wheels. The more permanent structures consisted of squat, single story buildings. Many of our buildings looked similar. Considering vampires spent much of their days underground, we didn’t need more than a single story at ground level.
Unlike us, the humans had multiple rows of fenced-in beds with plants growing in them, along with several pens containing animals such as chickens, ducks, goats, and pigs.
I wasn’t the only one who stared at the animals as we slowed the bikes on our approach to the compound. Rhain looked like he’d never seen a chicken before.
“Keeping live animals is fucking weird,” he muttered with a shake of his head.
Someone must have spotted us and alerted the other humans then, because they started pouring out of the large center building in droves.
“Alright. Guess we stop here.” Thorne cut his engine a good fifty feet away from where the humans were gathering, and the rest of us did the same behind him.
It was like watching ants emerge from a single hole in the ground. They came out and then went to the left and right, spreading out thinly in front of their building. Some small groups, probably families, stuck together. One older human had her arm around a much smaller, younger woman who was red-faced and hysterically crying, trying to stifle her loud sobs.
I frowned. The younger one looked utterly stricken with grief and fear. Was she the blood pet?
As much as I tried to ignore it, discomfort itched up my spine. Humans were weak, short-lived, and tasted boring, but they were just as sentient as any species in Sanguine. They were capable of joy, suffering, and everything else in between. It didn’t occur to me until now that giving up one of their own wasn’t just inconvenient, like it was for me.
It was having a loved one ripped away, suddenly and unfairly. This event would shake their community for months, if not years. The blood pet’s family and friends would mourn as if they had died, but a situation like this was worse than death. It was not knowing if they were dead or alive, well or suffering, that was the most persistent poison. The absence of knowledge haunted worse than any ghost. At least you knew a ghost was dead.
I knew that poisonous, never-knowing feeling all too fucking well, and didn’t wish it on anyone.
Strangely, the small woman seemed to be the only one truly visibly upset. The one holding her blinked away tears and seemed to be biting the inside of her cheek. Everyone else looked to be a mixture of afraid, nervous, or curious.
A much older human woman strode out of the building and walked straight toward us. Despite the fear pinching her lined face, she carried herself as a leader.
“Hello,” she called out, stopping about twenty feet from Thorne’s headlight.
“Good evening,” he returned, lighting up another cigarette. A few humans gasped and muttered to themselves at the puffs of red smoke from his nostrils and mouth. He paid them no mind. “We represent Blood ‘til Dawn, ruling clan of Sanguine. We’ve come to collect the blood pet per the Half-Century Selection agreement.”
“Welcome, ah, Blood ‘til Dawn.” The elderly woman repeated our clan name clumsily and brought her hands together in front of her. “We’re honored to, uh…honor the agreement between Sapien and the ruling clan.”
“Have you chosen a blood pet?” Thorne drawled in a bored tone.
“Ah, yes. We have.”
He stuck the cigarette between his teeth and waved his free hand. “Then let’s get this over with. It’s a long ride back. Cyan.” He jerked his chin at me. “Come up and collect your pet.”
With a resigned sigh, I pulled up alongside him and dismounted my bike. Might as well stretch my legs first if I was about to ride home with a passenger.
“The blood pet is mine,” I said to the human woman. “I’ll take them now and we’ll be out of your hair for the next fifty years.”
The woman blinked at me, the lines around her eyes deepening as her forehead creased. “You? I mean, just you?”
“Yes,” I said with a hint of annoyance. “We don’t share.”
“Right, of course.” She flashed me a nervous small before turning to the open doorway behind her. “Come on out, Octavia.”
A figure appeared, her white dress a stark contrast to the dark interior behind her. She stepped across the threshold and approached us stiffly, shoulders tense and her hands clenched into fists at her sides.
Something about the tension in those fists screamed danger, like she’d used them as weapons before.
Her hair was loose down her back in reddish brown waves moving slightly in the breeze as she walked forward. The white dress was a ridiculous get-up, honestly. Were they going to happily inform me she was a virgin too?
It was her expression that intrigued me the most. Her clenched jaw, lips pressed tightly together, brow furrowed over alert, stormy gray eyes. With her face like that, along with her clenched fists and stiff movements, it looked like she was tensing every muscle in her body, bracing for something. Or holding herself together so that she wouldn’t fall apart in front of everyone.
She was pretty in an unexpected way, keeping all the wild intensity in her posture like a tempest in a tea cup. It suited her, like she had been shaped and molded by holding lashing winds and a fiery temper within her.
This woman would not be easy prey, and my fangs throbbed with a dull ache. Despite knowing she was human, knowing her blood would be bland and plain in my mouth, the predator in me wanted the challenge of melting that steel from her spine. I wondered what it would take to make this storm-filled woman calm and compliant in my arms, baring her neck for my taking.
I swallowed on nothing, ignoring the pulse in my fangs as I stepped forward. To taste this woman would be to commit myself exclusively to her blood alone, and I’d do well to remember I was not signing up for that responsibility.
“Octavia, is it?” Remembering the human custom of a handshake, I stuck my palm out. “I’m Cyan of Blood ‘til Dawn. It’s a pleasure.”
She stared at my hand and then at my face, eyes narrowing. I swore she clenched her fists even harder, and said nothing.
I dropped my hand and tried to offer a smile that looked comforting. Fangs had a tendency to make that difficult, though. “As you are my blood pet, I’m what’s known as your verakt. Roughly, it translates to protector. You don’t have anything to fear.”
Verakt was an ancient term that had no real translation in English. Protector was the closest match, but it also carried the weight of something like master. Not exactly in an ownership sense, but more as the more dominant, stronger one in the relationship, which circled back to protector.
The woman, Octavia, continued to squint at me wordlessly. This time seemed more out of confusion than fear or hate.
“Alright then.” My hands clapped together awkwardly and one of the guys, probably Des, snorted behind me. Ignoring them, I asked my new pet, “Do you have any personal items you’d like to bring with you?”
She blinked, seeming taken aback by the question. “Why?”
Now I was confused. Did we or the humans misunderstand something? I slid a glance at the older human woman, who seemed intent on avoiding eye contact with any vampires. I then looked over my shoulder at Thorne, who offered up a helpful shrug.
Turning back to Octavia, I said slowly, “Because you’ll be living with me?”
She blinked several times as if fighting back tears, then took a slow, shaky breath. “No. I don’t have anything.”
I found that hard to believe. Humans and vampires were both fond of having sentimental things. There were also basic necessities like clothing and toiletries that all people needed, but my blood pet had been offered to me empty-handed. I scanned the faces of the gathered humans, wondering why they were handing over this woman with nothing but the clothes she wore.
“Okay, then,” I relented and angled my head toward my bike. “Let’s go.”
“Go?” Octavia stayed rooted to her spot, her brow furrowed again with confusion.
“Yes.” Maybe she just wasn’t fully there mentally. In which case, no blood from her would ever touch a vampire’s lips. Our clan had strict laws about informed consent from any living blood source we took from. “You’re my blood pet now, my responsibility. I’m taking you to my home where you will be cared for and looked after. Do you understand?”
“You mean,” she frowned. “You’re not going to just drain me of all my blood right now?”
My fangs throbbed like that was an excellent idea, which didn’t make any sense. I went to the blood bank right before we drew straws. I wasn’t hungry. But the thought of tasting this woman was a temptation I couldn’t seem to shake.
“I’m not sure what happened during the last Selection,” I said. “But that’s not how we do things.” I leaned in close, until my mouth nearly touched her ear. Her little gasp at my nearness had my teeth aching.
“Look, this is enough of a circus as it is,” I whispered. “Being chosen as a blood pet is a privilege. Feeding from one isn’t a spectacle. It’s personal. Intimate. Not something to gawk at.” Her pulse accelerated in her neck and it was so damn distracting that I had to pause for a breath. “After casting you out, they’ve gawked at you enough, don’t you think? So let’s get out of here and settle you into your new life.”
When I straightened, her expression had relaxed somewhat. Her jaw and lips remained tense, but there was an understanding in her eyes. A calm in her storm.
“Can I just say goodbye to someone first?” she whispered.
“Of course.” I nodded and took a step back. “Take all the time you need.”
She turned to face the gathered crowd, and it was no surprise that she went straight toward the small, crying woman who burst into a fresh wave of tears. They embraced tightly and I found myself looking away from the scene I had no right to be watching.
Octavia hugged the older woman who had been with her crying friend, but no one else approached to offer affection or well wishes of any kind. I scanned faces and they all looked mildly uncomfortable. Inconvenienced. The fear and nerves seemed to have passed, and now they all wanted to return to their lives.
It was all very strange to me. Maybe humans didn’t get as attached to each other as I had thought. In a vampire clan, every single member would be devastated at losing one of our own. The humans’ reactions made me wonder about Octavia’s relationship with the two people she was saying goodbye to.
After a few more hugs and hushed words, my blood pet reluctantly stepped away from her fellow humans and returned to where I stood. Her face was dry, although her eyes shone with unspent tears.
“Okay,” she said. “I’m ready to go.”
I dipped my head in a nod, but said nothing as I led her to my bike. This whole ordeal was fucking strange and my head was spinning.
Thorne tossed his finished cigarette on the ground, then returned his grip to the handlebars. “See you in fifty years,” he said to the human leader before revving his engine.
My bike roared as I took off after him with my new blood pet seated behind me, and my fangs itching for her blood.