13. Under the Sycamore
UNDER THE SYCAMORE
Alex
I’d changed. Physically, mentally, and spiritually.
The fever hadn’t killed me. I’d thought I was going to die of pain, but one night, I’d woken up strong and very much different. I was broader, stronger, faster, and a good foot taller than before.
Some changes had been for the better, like my new, strong and healthy body. But others were for the worse, like my obsession with blood. Other changes were surprising, like my friend Darius being a wizard.
He’d searched for me in the fever hospital and told me what had happened to me, but I’d struggled to understand it.
When one had an insane obsession with blood and could barely think about anything else other than biting people, focusing on other subjects was difficult.
On the top of a hill in… I couldn’t remember, I was sitting on the grass under a sycamore tree that had to be centuries old, judging by its massive trunk and flaky bark. If the sycamore could talk, it would laugh at my problems.
The moonlight glinted off the pools a storm had left behind. This town was different. The air was fresher—no more stink of coal and horse dung—and the scent of wet soil and wildflowers clung to my clothes.
During the day, the sun was too strong for me. It hurt my eyes and burnt my skin. Moonlight was better.
I wiped the fresh blood—not mine—from my hands and licked my wet lips, savouring every drop as my body regained energy.
When this ordeal had started, I’d hated drinking blood. The mere idea had horrified me. Now I wasn’t simply used to doing it. I enjoyed it.
My conscience had lost its battle against the irresistible urge to feed. The fact I didn’t feel any remorse worried me, but I wasn’t deluded. Even the worry was fading, and the last trace of my humanity would soon disappear.
The song of the crickets suddenly became sad, and a breeze made the lower branches of the tree sway in a mournful dance—rest in peace, soul of Alexander Hart, they seemed to chant.
Darius climbed the short, steep path that led from the houses below to the tree and dropped himself next to me. “It’s done.”
I opened my satchel and handed him a piece of lard we’d stolen at the farmers’ market. He wolfed it down in a moment. Despite the large quantity of rich food he devoured each day, he remained frail with gaunt cheeks.
Riley’s thugs had beaten him up badly, and he was still shaken. In the past few days, he’d eaten well, spending all our money, and that had helped him regain his magic, which he’d lost due to his poor diet.
“She won’t remember anything, right?” I asked.
“Not you, your fangs, or how much she enjoyed the bite.” He picked an oat biscuit.
“But she’ll live, won’t she?”
A lump formed in my throat at the possibility of having taken too much. Not that I didn’t want to. A dark part of me would enjoy draining a person to death.
As absurd as it sounded, becoming a bloodthirsty monster had made me care more about people. Being strong and powerful made me careful towards those people who couldn’t protect themselves from me. But the more I drank, the more I got used to it, and the more people became food.
Darius paused munching. “I’m not sure. She was breathing, and her pulse was steady, but only you know how much you’ve drunk.”
“Damn.” I raked a hand through my hair, feeling my strong, thick fingers. “You stopped me in time. I’m sure.”
“And I’m sure one day you won’t need me to stop you drinking or to remove your presence from the minds of your victims. You’ll be able to do it yourself.”
Victims. “Will she develop a fever, as it happened to me?”
“No, she won’t.” He attacked a slice of bread.
“I can’t believe you’re a bloody wizard.”
“I prefer mage if you don’t mind. Wizard sounds like lizard.”
“You didn’t need me to steal.”
He snatched another piece of lard. “I needed you. My magic was extremely low. Even now it’s not at its fullest. And no one wants to be alone. You were the only person who had ever shown me compassion.”
The rich taste of blood lingered on my tongue, calming the constant thirst.
Thanks to the endless thirst, I’d drunk from many people in a matter of days, but Irene’s blood…
Hell, her blood was the best thing I’d ever tasted in my life.
It’d triggered my transformation and made me stronger, while other people’s blood didn’t quench my hunger for more than a few hours and wasn’t nearly as satisfying as her blood.
Just a few hours ago, I’d stood under her window just to be close to her. The call of her blood had been irresistible, and it’d taken all my strength not to jump through her window and drink from her.
When I’d bitten her, wild and overwhelmed by the thirst, I could have killed her. The thought of hurting her had been so repulsive that I’d managed to stop. But if she’d been a stranger, I would have sucked her dry.
“Where are we? Why are we here?”
He finished eating a biscuit and brushed the crumbs off his shirt. “We’re on the outskirts of Spitalfields. The village over there is Crowsbury, and we came here because there are people like you.”
“You mean…” I swallowed. “Vampires.”
The word was new to me, but Darius had told me that vampires had been mythical creatures for centuries. Knowing my condition had a name didn’t change how I felt about it.
“Not just vampires but other supernatural beings. Witches, werewolves, wilis—”
“Wilis?”
“Vengeful women’s spirits, also known as the wretched brides. They kill men who betray women. They loathe men in general. You’re going to love them. They’re adorable.” He wolfed down another biscuit. “They’re part of the Dark Court.”
He pointed at the large mansion with turrets and lancet windows at the base of the hill. Dark and imposing, it looked like a disease sprouting from the ground. Mist clung to it like an old blanket, and the yellow glow pouring from the windows reminded me of the eyes of a beast.
“There are other courts,” he continued. “The Fair Court is ruled by the fairies. They’re very fickle.
Werewolves hold the Moon Court. There was another court, the Wraith Court, but it was destroyed during a war.
The wraiths planned to subjugate all humans to their will, and the other courts allied together to defeat the wraiths. ”
“Why didn’t you go to one of the courts when your parents died?”
He didn’t answer for a long moment. “My parents were murdered by the hunters.”
“I’m sorry. Who are the hunters?” I asked after a pause.
“People who think all supernatural beings are evil. They haven’t been active as of late.
Thank goodness. I don’t know what happened to them and I don’t care.
” He remained silent again. “The fairies at first agreed to take me in, but then gave me a long list of rules about things I could and couldn’t do with my magic.
Magic is who I am. I need to develop it, not suppress it.
The werewolves growled at me. The Duke of the Dark Court didn’t care for a weak orphan mage, but now a strong vampire is with me. ” He winked. “You’ll convince him.”
He shifted and brushed my arm. I shot away from him, fangs fully descended as a phantom pain burnt my skin.
My skin and bones had broken and healed to adjust to the transformation.
On top of that, the beating and the overcrowded hospital had made for a terrifying combination.
The memory of the pain and of those feverish bodies pressing against me while I’d transformed tormented me.
“What is wrong with you?” He stopped eating. “I thought your skin was less sensitive now.”
A choking sensation gripped my throat, and the world tilted.
“Don’t come close to me.” My new deep voice irritated me.
“Fine. I won’t.”
Touching or being touched didn’t bother me when I needed to feed, as long as it was limited and I used only my mouth. My thirst took over every other emotion. But when I was calm, touch disgusted me.
“How did I become this monster?”
“What I know about vampires comes from myths and old wives’ tales. A vampire bit you more than once, but that’s the beginning.” He stretched out his legs. “The vampire drank from you and gave you his blood. Riley made your transformation more painful by beating you within an inch of your life.”
I rubbed my eyes. “I don’t remember any blood exchange.”
“Do you listen to me? Or is your thirst too strong to let you think? Old vampires can meddle with people’s minds. They live for centuries, are difficult to kill, and become unstoppable if not properly trained. You need to be trained.”
“I’m not a dog!” I bared my teeth.
He huffed. “I wish you were. At least you would listen to me. Whoever the vampire was, he meant to transform you.”
A gift. The two words whispered in an unfamiliar accent echoed in my mind.
“Why?”
He shrugged. “I hope to find answers in the Dark Court.”
I touched a tree root arching high over the ground before plunging again into the darkness. One brief moment of light before it vanished.
Vampires lived for centuries.
Only trees should live that long.