Blood Martinis: The Gypsy Vampire's Curse

Ch. 7 ... Changing Direction

Bennet walked up to the mic on the stage and thanked everyone for coming. He let them know there were parting gifts waiting for them with the butler at the main gate. Everyone looked to have had their fill of food and excitement, and were ready to get home. Bennet was eager to get upstairs.

Brianna stirred. She thought she opened her eyes, and light flooded in, but she couldn't see anything. Her skin prickled as if lightning were running through her veins. She tried to listen for something and, for a second, thought she heard so many voices it was overpowering. Then as quick as they came, they were gone. She ran, what she thought was her fingers, across where her neck had been. She couldn't tell if she was touching anything… everything felt- so much, so little. She sensed movement, but didn't know where.

She felt something, maybe a hand, on what she thought was her hand. It was still and warm. The feeling spread across her skin and seeped into her bones. This was something- something real. Using muscle memory, she visualised moving her other hand onto this one. Suddenly, she felt more heat. This time it was coming up through her other palm. It occupied her for what felt like an hour.

“Sssss….”She felt moist breath on her ear, and heard a soft hissing. She was almost sure of it. Then the hissing pulled away, and she couldn't track it. It was rolling loud, then quiet, and back again. Then she felt the warmth on her ear return and heard the gentle,“sssss…”This time it moved ever so slowly away. In couldn't have moved more than a foot in twenty minutes, but she was tracking it. This time she knew where it was.“sssss…”it continued. It was no longer moving, but it changed tuned.“Can you hear me, Bri?”Bennet spoke slowly.

She moved to wrap her arms around him but, as soon as she did, her knowledge of where he was seemed to disappear. Falling into something, maybe him, she tried to cry but couldn't hear herself. Abruptly, a whaling went off in her ears, then it was gone again. She stopped trying, unsure if that had been her. She felt the warmth come around her forearms, and felt like maybe she was being sat up.

“Ssss…”the hissing began again. The heat slowly pulled away with the noise and then stopped at the same distance it had before.“Bri, don't try to move,”Bennet warned.

“What’s happening?”she tried to say. Her voice sounded like that of a giant's inside a cave.

“You're going through the change,”he said.“Just listen to my voice and don't move.”

“What change?”she asked, the sound quivering.

“It doesn't matter right now,”he said.“You need to concentrate, or this will last for days. I know it doesn't seem like it right now, but your senses have improved. Once you learn how to tune them in, you'll be able to hear a mouse squeak in the next room or see each feather…”It was like the dial started twitching,“… hawk…”to a frequency she didn't understand,“…sharp…”he said,“…from 100 metres.”

“What?”she asked.

“Ssss…”he started over till she calmed.“Just focus on my voice.”

“Kilian, where's Kilian?”she asked frantically as her last made memories started flooding in.

“Don't worry about him, he's not here,”Bennet said.“I'm here. I'll lie with you, and we'll sleep till a better time in the morning when we can pick this up again. Don't be afraid.”

Before dawn, Kate awoke. She was so cold, she was sure this was death. Death is boring. She couldn't see anything, hear anything, feel anything but boredom. And the time ticked on. Kate lied there for hours, before light began to flood into the room to tell her- I might actually be alive. She closed what she thought was her eyes, and the light disappeared- confirming it. Kate focused on her ears. Now that she did, there was something. Maybe a whole lot of something. It rumbled and whooshed, almost like being at the beach. She felt herself breath, and thought to focus on it.

Listening for those breathes – in and out, in and out, in and out – she unintentionally heard her heart pulse rhythmically in sync. After a while she opened her eyes to see varying shades of black and brown. They grew lighter as she turned on her side. She was pretty sure she had been lying on her back. Her body no longer ached, but it felt weird. She could pick out individual hairs on her arm as cool air grazed over them. Losing her hearing again, she tapped a finger on one ear. It sounded like a roaring stethoscope.

She put her hand out in front of her. It looked like a blob, but she forced her eyes to focus. At first the fingers started to take shape, then the lines on her knuckles, her uneven cuticles, and the calcium spots on her finger nails. The wrinkles on the back of her hand came into focus and, as she stared at one, she unintentionally zoomed in to an almost atomic level. Pulling back, she shook her head, then reached out with both hands to find the ground.

She slid those hands across the ground like skis. It felt like a wooden floor- flat with occasional knots and crevasses. One hand hit a wall. She moved the other to it and both up it, pulling her feet under her body and standing. Her legs wobbled, unsure of themselves. When she thought she was fully upright, she moved her hands back and forth across the wall moving toward the bright light she hoped was a window. Finally, she found a handle. Turning it, she found it locked. Her eyes were starting to focus on it, but they felt strained. She saw a knob for the lock and, turning it, was able to swing the door open.

Everything around her became unbearably bright. She forced herself to walk, slowly. She didn't want to trip over things. Where am I? She wondered. What happened? She couldn't pull it together. She wanted a drink. By God did she want to drink.

Brianna sat in a chair in front of a makeup mirror in the presidential suite of Lough Eske Castle, which had been turned into a Solis Hotel. Women surrounded her. One was fixing her nails. She had them done two days prior in preparation, but the last days' events had broken many of them. Another was doing up her platinum locks with bobby pins in an intricate bun with side swept bangs, before sticking the diamond encrusted tiara with veil in place. It draped around her shoulders and hung to the floor. Her dress had a corseted bodice with laced shoulders, culminating in a choker, that parted down the chest to expose her breast. The bottom attached to a tight 20's style skirt with an elegant tail. She looked like perfection. Nevertheless, a makeup artist busied herself brushing tints and powders, lines and shadows, across her face.

Bennet, Dylan and Kilian were in the adjoining room, presumably putting on their tuxedos and fixing their hair. She was just glad Kilian wasn't in her room. He had left her alone since the previous night. Once Bennet had fixed her hearing and sight this morning, she relayed to him everything she thought had happened. She had been so wrong about so much of it. She looked now, into the mirror, and clearly saw the effects of what Kilian had done to her. Her shoulders now seemed squarer, as her body had become more muscular and firm. Her chest seemed smaller, and her breasts were tighter. Perkier. That, and the fullness that had taken over her beautiful locks, were the only benefits she could see. She also saw the redness where the makeup lady had waxed small hairs off her upper lip and between her eye brows. They still stuck out around her hair line.

Bennet had warned her, only after it happened, that if she let herself get emotional she might start to change. Claws might chip through her fingernails, fur cover her body, her bones break and reshape until she stood on all fours, and a nasty tail jut out of her coccyx. He promised with time she could control it, but for now she had to stay calm. It meant she couldn't drink at her own wedding.

She was so angry with Kilian for not giving her a choice, for turning her into a monster. She had loved Bennet, but could she now love someone who had hidden something so monumental from her? Could she love someone she didn't know? She felt strongly enough about him, and not giving people something to whisper about, that she had decided she would still go through with the wedding. I do love him, don't I? At least I will, won't I? Either way, right now she knew that if she had to see Kilian or Bennet, she would lose it. It would come bursting forth, tail and all, for the world to see.

Walking down the aisle on her father's arm, she hid behind the veil. The pianist played and she stepped in beat, coercing herself to move as gracefully forward as she could possibly muster with these bulky man legs. Everyone sat silently gazing at her. She could feel them looking for the cracks, but she forced herself to keep it together. If she could get through this, she could get through anything. As she reached the pulpit, her father let go of her arm and sat in his place. She refused to make eye contact with anyone, standing as straight as possible while her eyes were on the bible in the priest's hand.

“I do,”she said on command.

“You may now kiss the bride,”she heard.

What looked like Bennet's hands lifted her veil, and she closed her eyes before the tears could escape. She felt his lips on hers and, when he released her, she smiled at the crowd. Her eyes dead, and her heart cold, they walked back down the aisle. They stepped into the foyer followed by her two bridesmaids, who were old“friends”from school, then Kilian and Dylan. She turned to receive congratulations from the photographer, who then told her how to pose her happiness. The world twirled around her, and she felt faint, knowing nothing would ever be right again.

Kate had been wandering for hours before she learned where she was. She figured out after a while that she needed to focus her eyes on the ground a few feet in front of her and keep them that far ahead. This made it difficult to gauge the bigger picture of her surroundings, but at least allowed her to walk without stumbling over things. She could hear the ocean and, hoping it was still Donegal Bay, continued eastward in the direction she believed her father's house to be. Occasionally she heard sparrows in the sky overhead, and the sounds of the waves would recede. Every time this happened her head would ache and her ears would feel pressure, like they were working too hard. Finally, at the bottom of the hill, the little black picket fence and gravel drive she knew so well came into view.

Walking to the front door, she knocked, and her father answered. Carefully looking up to see his face, she started to feel something weird in her jaw- like a salivating.

“Darlin', how are you?”he asked.“I was hoping you'd stop by.”

“But, I saw you come in last night. You saw him take me,”she said.

“Who took you, sweetheart?”he asked.

“I don't know,”she said.

“Maybe you had a bit too much to drink, you look a bit worse for wear,”he said and helped her up the step to get inside. Once there, he sat her down in the sitting room.“Would you like something to drink?”

“Something strong,”she told him, and he went into the kitchen.

Her mouth ached, especially her front teeth. She felt like she had been punched in the face, then recalled she sort of had. While she focused on the pain, her ears tuned themselves into her father's voice in the other room- insisting she eavesdrop.

“She just got here,”she heard him say to someone. He must be on the phone.“I don't know, she might be,”he said. He probably called one of his mates out last night to help search for me. He hung up and came back into the room. Her head was still aching, but she wanted the drink more than an aspirin.“Here you go,”he said, handing it to her.

“Who was that, Dad?”she asked.

He looked at her quizzically.“Who was who?”