“No, Vance,” I said fervently. “Bite me instead.” I whipped my long hair away from neck, and he yanked me to him, sinking his fangs into my throat.
He drew hard against me, gulping down great swallows of blood, and I heard a gasp rent the air. I glanced toward the trees and saw Brad and Shelly standing there.
“Quick,” I spoke with a rasp, and Vance didn’t hesitating in his feeding. “Get the others out of here.”
Chapter 22
It was cold.
Opening my eyes, I discovered it was dark as well. I groaned and tried to roll over, but my body was aching.
I was outside still, on the ground, and I had no idea how long I’d been there, whether a few hours or days. Vance had fed from me until I lost consciousness again.
“Vance?” I called into the darkness surrounding me, but all that answered was silence. Not even the noise of a cricket broke the stillness, nor did any breeze stir through the branches. There was nothing.
I stretched my muscles out, trying to remove the stiffness from lying down for an extended period of time, before I tried standing. I had to lean against a tree for support, still feeling terribly weak over the blood loss.
Silently wishing for some form of lighting, I stumbled forward, trying to get a bearing on which way I was facing. It was completely dark though, so I concentrated on the cabin in the woods and commanded my body to evaporate to it.
Amazingly it worked, but I still found myself collapsing in an exhausted heap in the middle of the kitchen floor.
“Vance?” I called out again, only to be greeted by more silence.
I tried to connect with his mind. I could feel him, my body telling me he was somewhere close by, but the barriers were firmly up.
His hearing was improved, I reminded myself.
“Please, Vance. If you can hear me, come help me. I’m so weak and tired.” I tried to appeal to some of the tenderness for my well-being inside of him.
Nothing.
“Vance, I need you,” I whispered again.
I crawled toward the small set of stairs which led to the bedroom, eventually finding my feet as I continued on, gripping the wall as I made my way. I stumbled across the room and fell onto the bed in a heap.
Shuddering, I pulled the comforter around me, trying to get warm, while I tried to listen for movement through the house. My eyelids soon grew heavy once more, and I drifted off to sleep.
“I’m leaving.”
His voice woke me up, and I opened my eyes to find him throwing some things into a duffle bag.
I glanced toward the door that led to the stairs and could see the light of day shining up from the kitchen below.
“Where are you going?” I asked, trying to tap down my rising panic.
“Anywhere you aren’t,” he said, continuing to pack roughly.
I sat silently, watching as he moved about the space. “What did I do?” I finally asked in a small voice.
He stopped and turned to look at me with an incredulous stare. “You’re kidding, right?”
“No, I’m not. I want to know why you’re so angry with me you’re willing to leave. I’ve been trying to help. Honestly. I’m doing the best I know how.”
He dropped the duffle bag on the floor and stomped toward me.
“You haven’t done anything. That’s precisely the problem. You’re constantly having to make sacrifices on my behalf—offering your blood to feed me, not to mention keeping everyone else protected.” He grabbed me by the chin, turning my head from side to side, checking me over. “It’s not right, Portia. Your health is suffering because of it.”
He dropped his hand and sat next to me on the bed before he bit into his wrist, offering it out to me. “Come on. Drink up. You need it.”
The smell of his blood called to me, making my mouth water in anticipation, but I reached out and healed his wound instead.
“What are you doing?” he asked, perplexed.
“You can’t berate yourself for feeding from me and then expect me to do the same to you. The street goes both ways. If this is going to be a problem for us then we need to sit down and figure a way to fix it. I’m sorry, but I don’t think you running away from me is the answer.”
He didn’t say anything, so I continued. “What’s the alternative, Vance? If you leave, you’ll have to find another blood source elsewhere.”
“I don’t care,” he grunted.
“I do. And I know you do too. You’ll never be satisfied by someone else. How many people will you kill when you try to fulfill that longing?”
Again he was silent.
“Separation doesn’t work well for either of us. We both know that. I wish there was an easy answer to this, but the fact remains—you’re a demon. Demons need blood. If you’re worried about drinking too much then we can see if there might be some spells that will help to dampen your cravings somehow.”
“That’s the problem. I don’t want to dampen it. I love the way it feels. It’s addictive and wonderful—you’re addictive and wonderful. I want to drink every last drop, every time I touch you.” He sighed heavily. “I’ve turned into a freaking serial killer, only I’m killing the same person over and over again. And it’s the person I want to protect more than anything in the world.”
“Oh, Vance.” I wrapped my arms around him, wishing I could do something—anything—to help him.
Thinking of our earlier plans, I visualized being at the waterfall we originally intended to go see. Our bodies dissolve away together, reappearing at the very spot.
I collapsed, in my weakened state, and he caught me before I hit the ground, gently laying me back in the thick ferns that surrounded us.
He bit into his wrist again, holding the blood to my lips. “Drink some, baby. You need it.”
I did, closing my mouth over his wound and taking just enough that I began to feel his power move through me—strengthening me. Then I pulled away, healing him as I did.
“Why did you bring me here?” Vance asked, lifting his head to look at the massive, roaring waterfall plunging from the cliff face next to us.
“Because, I want you to see something.”
“What’s that?”
I sat up and draped my arms around my knees, and he moved next to me.
“I want you to see there’s still beauty in the world.” I glanced over to find him staring curiously at me. “There’s more to life than demons and bloodlust. There’s more than hunting down sadistic killers, and trying to plot our next move. There’s more than revenge.”
He swallowed hard, turning to look at the scene in front of us.
It was magical, this old forest, weaving a spell of its own. Everything was untouched, clean, and beautiful. The tall ferns were growing up around half rotted logs that had fallen who knew how long ago. The water was clear and pure looking, tumbling from the cliff into a gorgeous, rippling, aquamarine pool before continuing on its merry way, singing as it rushed over the rocks in its path.
“Do you remember when you first saw me?” I asked, trying to steer his mind back toward happier times.
He grunted. “Of course I do.”
“Why did you fall in love with me then?”
He sighed. “Because I connected with you. I could feel you—your emotions, your thoughts. I knew without a doubt what a good person you were. I wanted you in my life.”
“And what about now, Vance. Am I still the same?”
“No,” he said, his eyes clouding over. “I’ve corrupted you … tainted you.”
“Are you tainted and corrupted?”
“How can you even ask that?” He yanked a fern out of the ground, shredding it into little pieces. “Look at me! I’m the very definition of evil!”
“You are not,” I argued.
“Really? How do you figure?” he replied in disgust.
“Vance, did you break up your parents?”
“No.”
“Did you make the choice to become a demon?”
“No,” he grumble
d.
“Have you been out willfully killing innocent people?”
“Yes,” he replied, whipping his head to look at me. “I do it to you—regularly I might add.”
“So you’re telling me you wake up in the morning and start devising ways you can kill me?”
He gave a huff. “No. I could never do that. I don’t ever want to hurt you.”
“That’s exactly my point, Vance. You’re the victim of unfortunate circumstances—things other people have forced upon you. This is not the life you would’ve chosen for yourself, yet you still try to make the best of the situation. That’s you … the real you, pushing his way to the surface and refusing to be dominated by something he doesn’t agree with. The fact you would even consider leaving to protect me, tells me you’re still in control. Yes, you have moments where you falter—we all do. That’s part of our human nature, but look at us, and I mean really look. Do you see everything we’ve been through? It’s been horrible. But guess what? We’re still trying to conquer. We haven’t given up yet. I need you to continue to be the man I fell in love with. Push aside the demon and the need for revenge. Who are you, Vance Mangum? Who do you want to be? And where do I fall into those plans?”
He got up and walked away from me, moving to stand at the edge of the pool. He stood there for a long while, before he looked down at his feet, scoping out a smooth rock to skip across the water.
I didn’t go to him. I sat back and enjoyed watching him in nature, doing normal things. I tried to imagine our current lives and situation away, pretending there were no such things as witches and warlocks in the world. We were just normal people, here on a date together.
He moved after a while and began making his way around the edge until he reached the cliff wall. He crawled over several boulders, and turned to flash me a grin before he disappeared behind the waterfall.
“Portia, come here. There’s a cave,” his voice whispered inside of my head.
I smiled, got up from where I was resting and followed after him.
“Be careful,” he hollered to me when he saw I wasn’t going to pop over to his location. “The rocks are a slippery.”
I followed the path he made until I was able to slide my hand in his, and he pulled me up the rest of the way.
The cave was dark and shady, lit only with the light that made its way through the water. It was shaped like an egg, narrowing into the shadows until it came to a curved, blunt stop. Droplets of water trickled through crevices in the rock here and there. Surprisingly, there were also a few small ferns that had grown up through little nooks and crannies.
“This is beautiful,” I said, looking over at him.
“It is, isn’t it?” He flashed a boyish grin, and it warmed my heart.
“I love it. It’s so cozy and isolated. Wouldn’t it be awesome if we could stay in here forever?”
“I have other plans in mind,” he said with a laugh, reaching down to grab the hem of his shirt, removing it.
“Really?” I asked, folding my arms and leaning against the wall as he reached for the buttons on his pants. I couldn’t imagine this place being too comfortable as a love nest. It was a little too rocky for my taste.
He quickly removed his shoes and stripped his pants the rest of the way off, so he was standing in front of me clad only in his cotton boxers.
“You coming? Or are you chicken?” he asked before he ran past me, cannon balling out into the waterfall and disappearing from sight.
“Vance!” I exclaimed in surprise by this turn of events. He had caught me totally off guard with his intent.
I heard his shout of glee from outside, and the laughter rang in my head as he spoke into my mind. “Come on in, baby. The water’s fine.”
I smiled and began to remove my clothing until I was standing in my underwear too. I stepped over to the ledge and threw myself out into the pounding water, falling until I hit the pool beneath. I was pushed under by the hard current until suddenly it shot me back up the other direction.
Vance was there laughing, treading water as he waited for me. He grabbed me and pulled me to him. We swam over to a shallow spot, where our feet could touch the bottom, though the water was still up to my chin. He pushed some of my disheveled hair away from my face, before wrapping his arms tightly around me, staring down. His gaze traveled tenderly over my features.
“You want to know who I am, Portia? I’m the guy who adores you, who has always adored you, and would do anything necessary to prove it. Who do I want to be? I want to be the man worthy of the love you give. How do you fit in? I want my life to revolve around you. I want to take care of you. I want to give you babies and have a normal, happy, family life. I want a job, vacations, parent teacher conferences, and a real place to call our own. I want to come home every night and make sweet, passionate love to my wife. I want the dream—the stability I’ve never had. I want to love and be loved in return.”
“Then what’s stopping you?” I asked, my heart overflowing with his declaration. He was still mine in every sense of the word.
“Are you kidding? I’m a blood sucking demon …,” his voice trailed off when I placed my fingers over his lips.
“That is not who you are. That is just something about you. You have a dream, Vance. What are you going to do to make that dream a reality?”
He held my gaze for several long moments. “I’m … I’m going to kiss you.” He dropped his lips to mine and kissed me slow and languidly, lightly exploring my mouth with his tongue. He tilted my head, tangling his fingers into my wet hair as he held me to him. His lips moved everywhere over my face, against every part of my exposed skin, before he lifted my off my feet and into his arms, making his way to the shore.
He laid me gently in the ferns at the water’s edge.
“I want to be with you as me—the man who loves you—not some raving, out of control demon.”
“Then do it,” I replied, my skin prickling with goose bumps.
“I don’t know if I can,” he said with a sigh, his eyes filling with streaks of red.
“Try,” I encouraged.
Later, when we left the pool side I knew I’d always remember this enchanted place forever. This was the place where my husband truly returned to me, beating down the demon desires coursing inside of him.
A new chapter in our relationship had begun.
Chapter 23
What do you do to help someone who doesn’t like who they are, but is genetically unable to change their circumstances? My mind was in total upheaval as I lay twisted in the covers with my sleeping husband.
Vance was exhausted—both physically and mentally. I had to give him kudos for never backing down from a daunting task he needed to tackle. When he made up his mind to do something it was difficult to make him see things otherwise, and he’d made up his mind to beat his demon tendencies.
While that sounded nice in theory, it was making his life a living hell.
In the days since we left the waterfall, he spent a lot of time testing his boundaries. He refused to drink my blood, which in turn caused him to be extremely irritated and angry. He spent hour after hour outside chopping wood, trying to burn off some of his physical aggression. When he was done splitting, he would stack all the pieces into perfectly organized rows in the three sided wood shed on the property. The structure was near to overflowing now, but he didn’t stop, continuing his self-imposed therapy.
I quietly observed him from my chair on the porch, watching him work until he was glistening with sweat from exertion. When he would near exhaustion he would drop the axe and make his way to the house, kiss me lightly on the cheek and would go to get cleaned up while I made him some dinner.
He didn’t like me to be far from him, I quickly discovered. I kept myself scarce during the first day he tried this, and he yelled at me for it.
“I need you next to me!” he shouted, pinning my shoulders roughly to the wall when he came into the kitchen. “It’s the only way I can get used to
handling the temptation.”
“I’m sorry. I thought it would be easier for you if I kept my distance,” I tried to explain as I stared into his flaming eyes.
“I don’t want you to keep your distance,” he growled, crushing his lips to mine as he kissed me hard, choosing to ravish me right there where we stood.
Being together was a major release for his pent up emotions, but it also compounded his problem. His blood lust was so tied up to his physical reaction to me I would often stare up at him with worry, watching him while he moved. His face was a mask of determined control, breaking out in a beaded sweat, while his fangs would lengthen in anticipation of a drink he wouldn’t allow.
He would often collapse on top of me in a heap, burying his face in my neck to lick and suck where he wanted to bite so badly. His teeth would sometimes graze over my skin just enough to draw small droplets. He lapped those up quickly before the Awakening healed me again, his body shaking with violent tremors of longing.
Many times he fell asleep right there, and I didn’t move for fear of disturbing the only snatches of peace he could find lately.
I knew it was hard for him. It was hard for me too. I made the same vow to not drink any of his blood either. Though I didn’t suffer from withdrawal, I did miss the sweet taste of him inside me and the strength his power temporarily added to mine. But it was time to face the facts—Awakening or not—taking from him was leading me down a path I had always hoped to avoid. No, I wouldn’t make the change, but I could feel a wild restlessness in myself when I drank from him—something that wasn’t normally there otherwise.
Vance shifted, sliding off me slightly, but still keeping me pinned to him possessively under one arm and leg. “I’m so tired,” he whispered in a gravelly voice.
“I can only imagine,” I replied, turning to look at him and finding his eyes still closed. “You’ve been putting yourself through a rigorous test.”
“This is harder than I thought it would be. I think it’s making me sick.”
“How can I help?”
“Keep doing what you’re doing, and don’t give up on me. I know I’ve been a jerk, but I don’t want to be. I’m always wondering when you’ll reach your breaking point and finally leave me.”