The Bonded (17 page)

I say in a whisper, “Percy don’t… don’t come near me. I’m so hungry…”

She doesn’t stop or wipe the stained blood from her face. “Let it go, Adriel. Be free of your lust!” She comes closer and my heart is beating so quickly that I can’t hear the intervals.

I say louder, “Please, Percy, I don’t want to hurt you!”

She disregards my request and pauses with the heat of her breath on my neck. “I am not afraid of you, Adriel.” I restrain my hands with all of my will and my eyes blur with need. She asserts uncanny strength and grabs my head with both of her hands, glowering through my eyes, lustily saying, “You are my bonded. I’m going to
take
what is mine!” She forces her mouth on mine and roughly probes with her tongue. I fight to resist, controlling what is trying so desperately to be loosed, and finally give in.

I grab her with fierce passion, crushing her body into mine so she can feel my pleasure. I can’t think. The waves of pressure are leaking, no—waterfalling—and I feel like losing control. I sense my body dematerializing as if atoms are separating and looking for a new host to satisfy. I spent an entire life in control, ensuring no part of me escapes, and in this moment I am scared, scared that I will not be me if this continues. I recoil in fear, spying Percy frozen with translucent skin and eyes imprisoned in silence. Her veins are bulging and mapping her face blue as a matching haze is pulled from them to me. I can feel their cool touch seeping into my pores and burrowing farther until they become a part of me. Both of us are paralyzed, but cognizant, watching as a spectator while our essences mingle. I try to get away, to push her far from me, and discover she is startled at my appearance as well. It is a moment of dreadful fear, more than I have ever felt. It is a fear of losing oneself to another and we both will our way back, but lose and gain something on the journey.

Our lips part tenderly and I say, “What has happened, Percy?”

“I do not know, but it is obvious that the process is maturing,” she says. I can feel her palpitations and cold sweat.

“What should we do?”

“I have never experienced anything similar to that, but I’m strangely hungry. Hungry for blood and hungry for…” She meets me in a deep gaze.

I touch her lips, wipe the blood clean, and cautiously kiss her with gentle caresses and soft, full lips. We hold our teeth in check, exploring the other and lightly touching. This time we savor the moment.

Chapter 10

My eyes are welded shut, cutting off the world around me, but I hear a voice trying to penetrate this bubble. It sounds like a muffled version of Percy, gentle tones and lascivious melodies, but I don’t want to wake up yet.
Leave me be, Percy. Let me slumber in the darkness where even dreams can’t reach me.
I know she touches my forehead when I feel the cold pressure sizzle on my molten skin and surreptitiously thank her for the respite. Her supple voice moves closer as I can nearly decipher words from the tunneled echoes.

“Adriel… Adriel… ADRIEL. Can you hear me?”

I pry my cemented eyelids open and a blurred version of reality greets me. They shutter in sequence giving an S.O.S. in an attempt to focus and gauge the unfamiliar surroundings. I croak with a dry throat. “I can hear you, but moving may be a problem.”

She leans in slightly, allowing her lips to touch mine, and says, “Good evening, my Bonded.” I feel the spark jump from her lips. She ignores it and persists. “I awoke twenty minutes ago in a similar condition. The paralysis will fade in minutes, but it is midnight and we are very late for our appointment with Quilici.”

With shock, I sheepishly reply, “I can’t even remember anything after… the roof.” I can feel my blood rush, tingling with memories.

“It is muddled for me as well. I recall only snapshots, beginning with feeding on Abram and ending here in this abandoned house. We collapsed in exhaustion before the sunrise and slept until now.”

 Abandoned house? My eyes pivot back and forth, scanning the room for details to jog a misplaced memory, but return with no success. Dry, rotted wood and dank floors overwhelm the senses, as the air is heavy and pungent. The stagnate room, once a wine cellar, lay old and forgotten, and empty barrels are scattered throughout; roughly carved shelves line the walls. The hardwood floor is acting as my pillow, splinters lodging their way into my hair in a feeble attempt to leave this place. I don’t blame them. It’s heartbreaking to see someone’s possessions and history discarded, even while it remains centered in the city.
Ouch!
My fingers twitch with an electrical convulsion, signaling their eagerness to join me as I wake from sleepy death.

I decide this thoughtful break has lasted long enough so I respond to her patient waiting. “My body is starting to wake up and I feel refreshed, even renewed.” I sit up casually with an arm resting on bended knee. “I recall you saying that you were hungry for blood and remember you feeding on Abram. I’ve never seen you drink that much.” I end the statement like a question.

“Something changed last night. We both felt it happen; somehow, I shared in your hunger and you were sated through me. I woke this morning to a pond of your sweat.” I feel the sticky cling of a waterlogged shirt, my wet hair cooling my head. “Your temperature has increased and I understand vaguely that your transformation is not complete. My temperature has risen as well. I feel the burn and its demands are… immense.”

I ponder this and say, “So, our needs have been increased, but yours is fed with blood and mine is fed through… what? I didn’t feed after Isabel, but was famished; yet my hunger disappeared when we were near each other. Wait, are you saying that my hunger is satisfied by you?”

She has thought this through; my words were not rewarded with astonishment. “Perhaps. This is all unfamiliar to me, but before we speculate too much, I think we should seek out Quilici. He may have some answers.”

The haziness of a memory is starting to form into a clear thought.
Isabel taking flight over the abysmal chasm, and in midair, a gust of wind hitting her with such force that her skin ripples while her body changes direction. Her crashing into the building wall and the brick crumbling.
I realize that it was my will that pulled the wind last night.

“Adriel, are you all right?”

I run back to the present and decide that some things are better left unsaid—I’m just not capable of articulating it, much less reconciling what is happening to me, so I respond. “Yeah, I’m fine. I sometimes get caught in my own mind. Sorry.” Her expression tells me that she knows I’m withholding something, but she shifts to a smile and we have a nonverbal agreement: I’m allowed space and she will be ready when I am ready. I reach out and use my fingers to comb her disheveled hair and she responds with affection, placing her hand over mine. “Percy, what’s another half hour?”

She cocks her eyebrow with a mischievous grin and is about to respond when I brush aside her hair with puzzlement. She demands, “What is it? What is wrong?”

“Your hair… It’s turned white. There is a rather large streak from the top to the bottom right here in front.” I follow its length with my fingers, as we have no mirror for her to see.

“Is it white or grey?”

“It’s the same color as mine
and
I think it’s sexy. It kind of gives you an edge.”

“Quit teasing me, Adriel. This is serious. We need to go!”

I move my fingers to her cheek and she touches my chest in response, tugging my shirt until we meet. The kiss is tender and slow, reminding me of dreamless sleeps where I’m lost in tranquility. I never want to wake up! Unfortunately, she has other plans and pulls away with dreary eyes and deep insatiate breaths. She says with an ethereal voice, “We need to meet Quilici, but I promise to finish this later.” So that was our exit strategy. Go and find Quilici, get some answers, and deal with whatever comes next.

* * *

It is a long drive to Frederick from D.C., lengthened by a feeding stop at a local fast-food restaurant. I guess irony is not lost on the vampire tribe, as Percy and I share a combo meal including some tasty alternative ketchup. Surprisingly, it is enough to satisfy both of us, and unlike the actual food served there, we leave energized from a nutritious serving. An hour later, we arrive on North Bentz Street, straddling the narrow lane in search of a local bar-slash-waer hangout. If this is their lifestyle, I begin to wonder if I’m more related to them than the cookie-cutter suburban vampire tribe.

I push a button to lower the window and get a mild brush of cool ambient temperature as the interior of the car gradually changes air pressure. The melancholy of winter has passed and the streets are lined with murky remnants of snow piled in corners like humans discard everything. We’ve passed the accessible section of downtown that baits people with fine dining and craft beers to the more insidious parts nearer the rim. The streets rebound with sirens and marital bliss as a couple is arguing in one of the row houses with windows cracked. My parents always disagreed behind closed doors, so I assumed relationships were easy… Riiiight. In hindsight, I think a healthy shouting match, coupled with the occasional lamp throw, is therapeutic. So I approve, even though their decibel level offends my sensitive ears.

Percy snaps me out of my world. “Adriel, we are very close and need to speak with Bryn in case our tardiness has caused an unforeseen consequence.” In other words, in case we’re screwed. She wasn’t really asking for permission as her lithe hands gently touch the nav screen, locating Bryn’s personal cell number. The screen is slower than her reflexes and it causes a slight frustration evidenced by her grimace. The Bluetooth connects and a static ring follows.

“This is Bryn’s phone,” screams a low, masculine voice that belongs to Bryn’s bodyguard. We can barely decipher the vowels from consonants as house music overwhelms the connection.

For some reason Percy yells in return. “THIS IS PERCY. I NEED TO SPEAK WITH BRYN IMMIDIATELY.” I look to her, shaking my head in disapproval, and she apologetically shrugs her shoulders. The background noise disintegrates with a vacuumed suction and I know he must be in the VIP Room.

“Hello, my friends. You must have seriously misbehaved last night because Cassius has stopped by twice, investigating the disappearance of his two favorite commandos.” Before I can reply, he quickly continues. “BUT that is a story for another time because any information that I possess could potentially be extracted and used against all of us. Did you learn what you needed from Quilici?”

Percy and I dart our eyes to each other and back to the nav system as if it is his avatar. “We haven’t made it yet,” I say to spare her the embarrassment.

“What? I specifically asked you to meet him directly after the sunset to avoid his pack. Surely he is restless with anticipation and wonders about your wellbeing.”

“Can’t you just call him and ask him to meet us somewhere else?” I say with pragmatic tone.

Without hesitation, he responds with frustrated sarcasm. “I could if I thought it would be a good idea for his pack to have my number on his phone. This is covert—no one knows and we have kept this secret for centuries. It is not the time for careless actions.” I hear him inhale deeply to invite some Zen in. “Only you can make the next decision. Either you risk your lives with his pack or you flee to reevaluate and alter our plans.”

There is a long silence as Percy and I smile, knowing that neither of us considered the choice and she replies, “We will meet with him this evening.”

“That is what I supposed. Percy, have your wits on alert and be very, very cautious. The waers have heightened instincts beyond our own and will sense your motives.” He stops and then starts again. “Adriel, what happened to you last night?”

I reply, “What do you mean? I thought you didn’t want the details of our little skirmish.”

“I am not referring to your unfortunate encounter, but of your metamorphosis.”

My neck snaps forward like a crash dummy as Percy slams on the brakes in shocked response. She pulls to the side, illegally parks, and asks for me, “How do you know?”

“The weather. It was a clear night with no clouds to hinder the star’s light, yet unannounced crackles of thunder bellowed throughout the night.”

This time I respond. “What does that have to do with me?”

“You will find out soon enough, but do you seem different?”

Percy answers, “More than you can possibly imagine,” and hangs up with a push of the button. “I am not ready to talk about it and we are here.”

Figures, I assumed her abrupt stop was an overreaction, but apparently she was attentive to the conversation
and
directions as we were one block from the bar. I’ve always admired those who are capable of accomplishing multiple tasks—as for me… it’s a good night when I can drive and think. I push the button once again to roll up the window and evaluate the area. I make it a lifestyle choice to always walk into dangerous situations with a minimum of two alternate routes for escape.

One block ahead I see the corner bar wedged in between two streets that converge the prominence of downtown with the danger of urbanized living. I look to Percy for the green light and get the nod, so we muster the courage and step out into the street with our senses on DEFCON 5. The sidewalk is cracked and uneven from years of settling and disrepair, giving insight into the political influence this part of town has… none. Perhaps they want it that way, as a waer pack would presumably take comfort in anonymity due to their unusual appearance. We hug the building walls on our way to the entrance, avoiding unnecessary attention and discover a human acting as a bouncer. On the old wood door hangs a crooked sign marred with rust. ‘Closed.’ I imagine they hired a human because attracting unwanted attention would be counterproductive, but he is large enough to ensure no one gets through.

Percy decides that female charm is the best option for entrance and exudes sex as her weapon of choice. She sheds the focused-warrior march for a more seductive saunter and invades his personal space, meeting him eye to eye. I stop a couple of feet back, dipping my head so that he doesn’t intuit a challenge from me due to my height.