Turned

Chapter Six.

Alfred had drawn my bath the next morning and I had him call for Julius once he was done so when I stepped into the steam filled room, Julius was already waiting, seated on the edge of the tub with his face turned and eyes staring off into the distance beyond the closed windows. I was in a blue, satin robe that I let fall to the floor once the door was closed behind me, catching Julius off guard with my nude figure. His eyes darted away from me, choosing to stare at the ground as I approached him, but as I took a stand in front of him, I realized that I wanted him to look at me, wanted him to see what was hidden beneath my clothing “Look at me” I said, my voice stern and solid as I looked at him. He turned his head, first examining my feet then trailing his way up slowly, over the curves of my hips and waist, over the lumps of my breasts and along the length of my throat to my face where he met my crimson gaze “You are beautiful” he muttered, his voice a mere whisper in the foggy air of the room. I reached a hand out to lightly brush my thumb over his cheek bone, the naive  words sounding so sweet, so innocent as they left his lips. A man would have reached out to touch me, to caress my body and take me as his but Julius was merely a boy, a boy of eighteen that had never touched a woman in his life “You are mine to corrupt” I announced, a light smile touching my lips. There was nothing as enjoyable as corrupting a pure, untouched soul that had yet to give in to lust, yet to be devoured by the darkness. There was nothing as enticing and enthrilling as taking the virtue of one who had never been tainted by their lustful desires and I would have him, but not yet “You are mine to do with as I please, therefor you will not lay a finger on another until I have had my fill” I hissed, thumb and forefinger gripping his chin and forcing his head back a bit. He locked gazes with me, his lighting up as I reminded him of what he was, of what sealing the contract had meant for him. I let go of him and turned to step into the metal tub beside him. The water stirred as I climbed in, the steam rising to caress my skin as I glanced down at Julius, who sat on the side of the tub, his hands gripping the edges to steady himself “I beg forgiveness” the muscles in my back tensed at his words, they echoed throughout the room and rang in my ears only to be followed by a long pause of silence. I knew why he felt the need to apologize, it was just not a very Vampiric thing to do “You do not have to apologize for anything, I should have properly informed you of the terms concerning the contract beforehand” I said, staring at the wall straight ahead that was covered in white tiles and had a grey towel dangling from a railing. There were many things that bound mentor and apprentice, many things that connected the two and made them one, however Julius did not know of these things, he knew very little “We are bound by blood and there are many things that go along with it” I turned, causing the water to ripple out from where my legs moved through the water and slowly sank down to sit with my legs pressed up against my chest. I wrapped my arms around my knees and allowed my fingertips to dance across the surface of the water “If you are injured in battle, I will bare the wounds” I explained, thinking back to the night before when the dagger had pierced his skin but left me injured. He felt guilty for having been there, for having been in the way. He blamed himself for my being hurt and that was evident in the way he hung his head in shame as he sat on the edge of the tub, refusing to look at me “You are my shield and it is my duty to constantly be aware of your health” it was how the mentor knew when to fall back, being stronger I could take much more blows than Julius could therefor it would buy us time if I was to bare his wounds, it would make him stronger not to be weighed down by the burden of injuries and wounds “We are able to tap into the others senses when we are apart” I explained, remembering how I would track Xavier when he would go hunting. I would see through his eyes as he would seduce a woman and sink his fangs into her throat, how he would drain her and then leave her to go drinking at a nearby bar. I could feel his emotions, I could hear his thoughts when he would allow me to, I could taste what he drank whether it was whiskey or scotch “We feel emotions, hear each other’s thoughts, see old memories” I muttered, scooping a handful of water into my cupped hand and spreading my fingers to watch it fall in between the slits like tiny waterfalls. I blinked and allowed for Julius to see through my eyes, the view of the water in front of me. He stiffened, his body becoming rugged as he observed the image that I was showing him “We are one in the same” I muttered, allowing our sights to separate once more. He blinked and turned his head to look down at me in the heated water, his eyes roaming over my shaved legs and up to my long mane of midnight black hair that stuck to the sides of my head “You are more skilled in combat” he pointed out a small difference. I hummed, tilting my head back and extending my legs to fall back into the water. I stared up at the ceiling, hands spread at my sides, floating aimlessly through the water as I thought about his words. I was better at hand to hand combat; however, I could not be a proper lady even if I tried, I could not eat with the right fork or butter my bread in the right way, but he could. All these things were only small differences between us “For the time being” I muttered, closing my eyes and sticking my head underneath the water. The tips of my toes brushed against the metal of the tub, the cold surface a strong contrast against the heat of the water. Soon he would learn to fight just as I had learned from Xavier centuries before him and he would become stronger, in due time.

After getting dressed in my black corset with a red undershirt that had puffy sleeves, black pants, brown boots and brown belt, I headed downstairs to find Fiona and Hamish at the dining table having cups of tea. Julius had stayed with me as I bathed, never once moving, never saying a word as he waited for me to finish and eventually get dressed. Fiona looked tired, her already crimson eyes rimmed with red as she ate, makeup smudged across her face and her fingers resting against her temple as if it ached. She had clearly had a few too many to drink the night before while Hamish looked fresh and revived, awake and ready to take on the day. He flicked through the newspaper in his lap and took a sip of his cinnamon tea. I stepped through the dining room and towards a small staircase that went down to the basement where the prisoner hung chained to the roof by his wrists. His head was bowed when I entered, the tips of his toes brushing over the cold stone below, stripped down to only his trousers. I flexed my left hand and reached up to run the claws along the bars of the cells that were built down there, causing a clutter to fill the silence, moving along with me as I approached the last cell where he was located. His eyes opened, and he raised his head to look at me as I approached, dark circles rimming his eyes with his skin seeming bleaker than it had the night before “Evana De La Crona” his hoarse and dry voice rasped as I came to a stop in front of his cell, my hand moving to curl around the metal bars that were reinforced with silver to keep supernatural creatures inside. The way he spoke my name was like a sickness, dangling in the air like a virus ready to drill its way into your body and fester “I do not believe we have met” I said, eyes roaming over his dark, tan and sweaty skin that shown in the light of the lit lamb behind me since there were no windows down in the basement. His accent was strongly American which made me believe that he was from there, his skin tone made it obvious that he was from the South of there. He let out a throaty chuckle and threw his head back to stare up at the rocky ceiling “Graham Young” he shot back, his name rolling from his tongue as if he had said it a thousand times over. I tilted my head to the side, curios as to what a man such as himself was doing involved with the Order that only existed in Europe. I tapped the claw of my index finger against the metal bars a few times before reaching for the key that dangled from the wall beside the cell, using it to unlock the door and step inside. The door clicked shut behind me and I tossed the keys out of the cell, where it skidded across the floor, coming to a stop at the far wall “Well, Graham Young, looks like it is just you and me” he watched me with interest behind his hazel eyes that up close had gold and green flecks hidden in their depths. There was nothing inside the cell but chains and stones as I moved closer to the man, stopping directly in front of him to gaze up at his features “It is a pleasure” he shot back, his white teeth showing when he spoke. His jaw was covered in a light beard that was neatly shaven and his cheekbones sat high on his face. Wrinkles spread out from the corner of his eyes while a few worry lines stretched across his forehead “So tell me, mister Young, what exactly is a man like you doing with the Order?” I asked, stepping around him, prowling like a predator circling its prey, slowly with every step bouncing off the walls. He watched me, eyes moving with my form until I was stood behind him, out of his line of sight so he settled on staring down at the floor instead “A man like me?” he asked, turning his head as an attempt to glance back at me from over his shoulder. I met his gaze, running my fingers along his lower back and causing goosebumps to rise on his bare arms and legs. I hummed, eyes following the curve of his spine “An American” I elaborated, stepping back around so that I was stood in front of him. He gave a faint smile, one not of joy or excitement, but one of pain and hidden anger that he harbored for someone other than myself. The Order originated in Norwich and spread across Europe over the centuries, however I was under the impression that they had not yet crossed the seven seas “One of you killed my wife and unborn son” he spat the word as if it was poison. I allowed my eyes to trail down to the floor below and nodded. His words meant that the Order did not find him, he had found the Order and most likely boarded a ship to reach Europe shortly after learning about my kinds existence “Well, one of you murdered my family” I said, crossing my arms and taking a wider stands as I met his gaze with one of fury and rage, rage that never quite went away even after having killed most of the people who had resided in the small town of Hethersett, Norwich at the time “And another killed someone very dear to me” his eyes held a familiarity as they gazed down at me, a familiar feeling of pain and agony that loosing the people you loved caused. He could relate with what I had been through, he could understand the pain and need for revenge that seemed to drive me like oil drove a fire in a lamp for hours on end, accept it drove me for much longer, generations even “You see, Graham, I do not particularly like the Order” I began, uncrossing my arms and allowing them to fall limp at my sides as I stepped towards the side of the cell, my hand reaching out to caress the stone wall as I mauled over my next words, eyes empty while they took in the dampness of the glistening wall where water was running down into the cell from above “And I trust you can understand why” I glanced back at him to find him nodding, his lips stretched across his face in a thin line while his eyes held only fury and hurt. I rubbed two fingertips together on the same hand, testing the dampness, inspecting my fingers that were covered in a light layer of dirt and dust “I wish to know where they are located” I said, raising my hand slightly before returning it to my side. I then turned to fully face him flexing both hands and causing the claws to jot out with the sharp sound of metal scraping against metal. He looked down at my hands and swallowed hard when I stepped towards him “And you are going to give me that information” he breathed out, the motion sounding like a snort or laugh as I took a stand in front of him. There was a faint trace of fear in his eyes, but he tried desperately to mask it by leaning forward as best he could and said in a calm, charming tone “Not happening, darling” I raised my right hand, fingers moving as I looked from his triumphant smirk to the silver of my claws that glistened in the faint lamp light. I ran my tongue along my fangs, exposing them to his eyes, reaching out to place my claws against the top of his right breast “Suit yourself” I sliced down at an angle, causing him to throw his head back and cry out in agony as four claw marks appeared in bright ruby red along his upper torso. Streams of red dripped down to his hips as he gritted his teeth, pupils dilating from the pain as he breathed in gasped pants “I do enjoy making men bleed” the ragged breaths turned to a deep, throaty laugh that echoed out into the world around us. I felt a tingle of interest and excitement course through me as I watched him, lips parted and eyes afire with a determination I had only ever seen in Xavier before. I was fascinated with this man, his words and actions having caught my attention “You are sick” he spat, spit flicking past his lips and onto my face. I wiped it away with my fingertips and smirked up at him, eyes meeting with his. He was something else, he was not like most humans and because of that I would keep him alive for some time “You have not seen anything yet” I stuck my hand forward, three claws digging into his stomach. He cried out, blood splattering from his lips and onto my face as I twisted my hand and pulled it back, his blood dripping down from my fingertips. I grinned widely as I watched him with blood flowing from his lips, his chest and stomach down to his legs and feet, dripping down in a slow trickle. My tongue lashed out to lap at the blood that trailed its way down the side of my face, a sweet taste that was different from the blood of European natives. My eyes began to glow as I locked gazes with him to find that he was smiling. An enthralled wave coursed up the back of my spine and wrapped around my skull. He was dying yet he smiled as if he enjoyed it “Graham Young” the words felt like a freshly brewed wine to my lips as I raised my hand and bit down on my wrist to draw blood. His eyebrows furrowed up in confusion at the sight, my own blood gushing into my mouth and wound healing as soon as it was pulled away from my mouth, hand moving to grip the hairs at the back of Graham’s head. I stood up on the tips of my toes and forced his head down, pressing my lips against his. His eyes widened while mine drifted shut, tongue moving to pierce his lips so that I could force my blood into his mouth and down his throat. He tried to struggle, tugging at his chains as he muttered into my mouth until I pulled away and ran my thumb along my bottom lip, lapping up the access blood from it afterwards. His eyes widened when he looked down at himself, wounds starting to heal before his eyes from the blood I had shared with him. Once he was fully healed, I gripped his jaw in my hand and forced him to look at me “By the end of this, you will be begging for me to kill you” I whispered, my face mere inches away from his when I shoved his face away from me and dragged a clawed finger along his neck, slitting his throat nearly all the way through. He began to choke on his own blood, dripping from his mouth and filling his lungs while I watched with a satisfied grin. He began to panic, eyes widening in fear as he stared at me, wheezing as an attempt to catch his breath. Moments before he could die, eyes rolling back in his skull, I bit down on my own wrist once more and kissed him, forcefully feeling him my blood like a mother would an infant. The life instantly flowed back into his body, the wound healing and blood draining away from his lungs, back into his blood stream. He gained consciousness and bit down on my tongue, nearly biting it clean off. I retracted and threw my head back, laughing from the thrill, the pain and the excitement that coursed through me. He watched me with weary eyes as my tongue healed itself and I contemplated new ways to almost kill him, my hand fiddling with the small hairs at the nape of his neck. I leaned up, placing soft, gentle kisses along the front of his throat until I bit down, sinking my fangs into the tender flesh. He clenched his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut as I drank, the pleasure pulsing through him and compelling a low groan from the back of his throat. He tugged at his chains, but not in anger or with the intent to escape, with a desire to touch me, to hold me. The lust was consuming him and causing his eyes to dull as he breathed hard and balled his fists beyond the shackles of his bounds “Please” he breathed which was like music to my ears as I pulled away. He protested, but if I had more of his delicious blood, he would most likely die of blood loss and there were some things that not even my blood could heal. A short while after having pulled away, the lust faded, and his eyes darkened with anger and humiliation “Please” I mocked, lips lingering close to his as I wrapped my arms around his neck and smirked. The muscles in his jaw jumped as he glared at me, hate riddled in their depths that only made my core become wet with excitement. I laughed, stepping back and twisting my wrist to allow the blood staining his skin to drift and form into a dagger in the palm of my hand. I rammed it into his chest, straight through his heart and watched him scream as I decided that he was someone I intended on keeping around for as long as time would allow me too.