Adamant Spirits

October 31, 2016

October 31, 2016

A knock sounded on the crimson door. Aestan checked his pace, not wanting to appear too eager. It had been a bad idea getting attached to a golem to begin with, but that didn’t mean he had to abandon all dignity.

Pausing at the archway, he drew in a deep breath. Another moment to collect himself. Then stepping forward, he pulled the door open. “Summer...”

She leaned against the door frame, her fingers half-looped, half-sliding against the broad turquoise belt. Had she lost more weight since the last time she’d visited? Her collarbone protruded more, and a heaviness hung over her. “Trick or treat.” She tapped her fingers to her head. “I’m an undercover pop star this year disguised as an ordinary telecommuter.” Stepping forward, she wrapped her arm around his neck to hug him. “You doing all right?”

“Of course. Come in.” He stepped back. As soon as she moved away, he missed the warmth of her body. He closed the door behind them. “I got you some Reese cups.”

She waved her hand, smiling. “Thanks, but I’ll pass. Juice is good though.”

Why would she pass up Reese’s? They were her favorite. He followed her into the high-ceilinged living room and kitchen. Broad bladed fans swept the air around, and regularly dispersed air fresheners kept everything smelling vanilla pleasant. The necessary instruments sat out on the hand-carved hickory table, and a pitcher of fresh-squeezed orange juice mixed with coconut water was on the back of the jade and blue marble island.

She sat on the ladderback chair and set her bag down. “All right.” She released a long sigh and rolled up her sleeve. She’d done this so many times she didn’t hesitate. Hatched and mottled scarring had formed at various points along her arms from all the drawings, and her movements were slower.

A dull shame rose in him. He hated this dependency, but that shame drove him forward to find an alternative. Perhaps his newest batch of synthblood would offer success.

She clenched and unclenched her fist around the tension ball, filling the jar. She drew a deep breath through her nose and released it through her mouth.

“Why aren’t you eating Reese’s anymore?” He sat beside her, but he avoided looking at the stream of thick red liquid flowing from her arm. The scent no longer whetted his appetite. He didn’t like to think of her doing this. Not anymore.

“Just don’t like them.” She closed her eyes.

He frowned. Had she given up Reese’s because of something she’d read about blood production and the body’s healing? True, processed sugar and refined carbohydrates weren’t the best choice for anyone. But it didn’t feel right for her to deny herself if only to help him, but it was her choice. He’d mentioned to her before that she didn’t have to alter her habits, but she had resisted the suggestion.

At the start, they’d both tried to make meaningless small talk during the drawings. But now...well, the silence was comfortable. So they either said nothing or spoke of things that mattered. Today was a day for no talk.

He drifted into his own thoughts, trying not to look at her or notice the gentle curves of her body. She was already giving him blood. She likely thought it was sufficient.

But no. It wasn’t. He wouldn’t ask for more though. She’d given enough.

At last, she finished filling the bottle. He poured her a glass of orange juice. “You have no idea how much I appreciate this.”

“Here’s to you staying clean.” She lifted a glass and took a long sip.

He nodded and placed the bottle of blood in the fridge. He didn’t like to consume it in front of her, and she didn’t want to see that anyway. Besides with this regular schedule, the gnawing hunger and parching thirst was kept at bay. It wasn’t hard to wait, and he had successfully stretched back the needed time between blood feedings. “You don’t have to leave right away, do you?”

“Nope. I’m my own boss now. Remember? One of the benefits of dropping college.” She stood slowly, balancing herself against the table.

He stepped forward, ready to catch her. A few times she’d almost fainted. He liked holding her but her collapsing like that worried him. “Yes, well, don’t rush this. I think you might need to slow down on the donations though, and you might want to see a doctor. I think you have some medical issues developing.”

“Oh, come on. I’m fine. There’s no way I’m going to the hospital. Now we’re going to miss the movie. It started ten minutes ago.” She shuffled across the marble floor to the overstuffed blue velvet couch and crawled over the back. Picking up the remote, she turned the TV on.

As the cool blue light bathed the room, he watched her. She rested her head on the arm of the couch, her legs tucked beneath her. So beautiful.

He swallowed the knot forming in his throat. In light of centuries, one year wasn’t much, but...he couldn’t deny the transformation blossoming within him and the emotions even now surging. Their friendship had been an odd disturbance in the beginning. But ever since she’d learned what he was, she’d poured herself out...literally. It showed. And it couldn’t continue.

He removed a sandwich from the fridge and took it to her. “Summer, I appreciate everything you’ve done, but I can’t keep taking your blood. I don’t know how much longer you can keep this up. And I’d rather risk prison or...” He stopped short of mentioning other methods for gaining blood. They’d argued about this enough. “I’d rather risk just about anything other than you.”

She shook her head as she picked up the black ham and gouda sandwich. “I’m fine. And you’d hate yourself and everyone else if you started hunting us golems again.” She rolled her eyes as she said the word “golems.”

“Summer, I am what I am. This is going to kill you eventually or at least make you sick. The substitutes aren’t working completely, and, so long as I am cautious, what harm does it do? It’s certainly less cruel than eating meat.”

Summer stopped in mid-bite. “What?”

“You say I shouldn’t drink other people’s blood because it is either theft or murder. But consider the fear an animal feels when taken to the slaughterhouse or its final pains in death. This is part of life. The ever-rolling sphere to which we are forever bound. None of us can escape it, and while we may minimize the harm, we cannot avoid it. You shouldn’t be ashamed of what you eat any more than I. We should just accept what we are. If you can eat meat, I should be able to drink blood that isn’t necessarily given to me.”

She slid the sandwich away and crossed her arms. “Then I’m giving up meat.”

“Summer.” He clapped his hand to his face. “You don’t have to—“

“I’m sure there’s better nuanced answers out there and all, but I can’t think of any right now. You’ve gone a year without attacking anyone or stealing anything.” She sat up on the couch. “I don’t have to have meat or animal products. You don’t have to have anyone else’s blood. We’ll find substitutes for both of us. There’s got to be a way to do this ethically.”

“I’m not going to let you do that.” He thrust the sandwich back into her hands. “Now eat.”

“No. Not until I have a better answer for you. I know it’s wrong to drink unwilling people just like it’s wrong to steal blood intended for others, so...” Her voice trailed off. She pushed the sandwich back against his chest. “Just let it go. I’m fine. You’re fine. We’ll find a way to make this work. Vitamins. I think that’s what we should try with you next. I’ll work on mine too.”

“Eat the damn sandwich, Summer.”

“Did you just curse the sandwich?” She crinkled her face at him. “Well, now I’m definitely not going to eat it.”

“Summer, I’m serious.”

“Why? What difference does it make? I’ve been thinking about going vegan for a long time now.”

“You’re getting weaker. I can see that! This is taking a toll on you. Look at what you’ve given—“

“That’s my choice.” She wrapped the blanket around her shoulders and turned her gaze back to the screen. “Friends help friends. If you needed a kidney, I’d give you a kidney.”

“But you have to take care of yourself.” Aestan sat down beside her. He slid the sandwich back on the table, his guilt merging with an odd admiration and frustration. “Please...”

She let her head rest on the large cushion. “I’m not not taking care of myself, Aestan. I just...I want to make sure every part of my life counts. That I’m in some way always building, not destroying. And look at it this way...if we were to find a total substitute, then the other vampires could use it too. This will motivate us both. Maybe we can end meat eating too. We can change the world. We are literally saving lives. Now I don’t know how to make synthblood, but you’re going to eventually figure it out. I can help you do that.”

Not that the other vampires would change. He had always done well to restrain himself as much as possible, but others...they reveled in the flavor, texture, consistency, and magic of blood consumption. “So you’re not even going to eat fried chicken on your birthday? No chicken bacon alfredo pizza?”

She shrugged, her gaze fastened on the screen. “Yeah. If it helps you stay on track, why wouldn’t I? It’s better for the environment and for the animals. No double standards. Now shut up and watch the movie.” She burrowed deeper beneath the blue chenille blanket. “Oh look Lon Chaney. He was my favorite Wolfman.” She sipped from the glass of orange juice before setting it aside and ignoring the sandwich.

“He was good.” He sat beside her as she tossed the blanket over his lap.

“Cover up,” she said. “You’re freezing. And pay attention or you’ll miss the movie.

He smiled faintly. He didn’t even look at the screen. Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein was a film he knew by heart. Besides there were other more interesting things to observe. Her feet pressed against his leg, her toes wriggling briefly against his coolness. Perhaps it was inevitable. He spent so much time alone maybe he did miss touch. Perhaps this would have happened with anyone. If so, then he needed to push these thoughts away. Release the tension and straighten his resolve. She was just a golem after all. Falling for them was dangerous. The others often warned him against it. At least they did when he saw them. He’d hidden her from them as much as he could.

“Is there anything better than old movies and friends?” She caught his hand. Her slender fingers hooked over his.

“Very little.” He stared down at her hand. To speak or not to speak. He bowed his head, watching her through shaded eyes. Her gaze was still fastened on the flickering television screen. Why was he denying this? Pretending it was nothing resolved as much as denying his physical thirst. He leaned closer, his breath quickening. “Summer,” he whispered. He smoothed her hair down. His voice trembled. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

“If it’s about the sandwich, I will punch you.”

“No.” A nervous laugh wisped from his mouth. “No... I love you, Summer.”

She glanced back at him. Her pupils were wide and dark, almost filling her irises. “This doesn’t mean you’re going to try to turn me, does it?” Her grip tightened, and her pulse quickened.

“Not unless you want me to. You can’t turn someone who doesn’t want to be turned.” That wasn’t true entirely. But hopefully it made her feel better. Was she upset? He couldn’t read her face.

She sighed, her muscles relaxing. “Good...cause...I think I might be falling for you too. And I, well, I don’t want to be a vampire.”

“I’d never make you something you weren’t. You’re everything to me. I love you, Summer.” Those words had never felt so right as they did now, hanging in the air between them.

She sat up, her hand still tucked in his. “Well...are you going to kiss me then?” Her smile became coy, a playful look entering her eyes.

He cupped his finger beneath her chin and leaned close. The walnut grandfather clock chimed, the gentle tune signaling the midnight hour. His lips met hers. The warmth of her breath against his flesh ignited the desire even more. He pulled her close, kissing her deeply.