Лиза Смит - Bloodlust

Lexi’s eyes registered surprise. “I was wrong,” she said simply. “It’s been known to happen.”

“You must forgive my poor manners in interrupting, but do you have anything to eat?” Damon asked, not turning away from the portrait of an old woman that he was examining. “I’ve had a rather difficult few weeks.”

For the first time since we had escaped, I really looked at my brother. His voice was hoarse, as if he was unused to using it. Bloody gashes covered his arms and legs; his clothes were in tattered rags; and his shock of black hair was filthy and lank against his pale neck. Red rimmed his eyes, and his hands trembled slightly.

“Of course. You boys must be starving.” Lexi tsked. “Buxton, take him to the butcher shop. Let him eat his fill. I doubt there are enough humans in New Orleans to quench his thirst. And tonight, at least, he deserves to eat like a king.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Buxton said, bowing slightly as he raised his bulk from the chair.

“I’ll join him,” I said, heading toward the door.

“No.” Lexi shook her head and grabbed my arm—hard. “I have tea for you.”

“But . . .” I protested, confused and annoyed. I could practically taste the pig’s blood on my tongue.

“No buts,” Lexi said sharply, sounding remarkably like my mother.

Buxton opened the door for Damon, who wiggled his brow at me as if to say, “Poor boy!”

If Lexi saw, she pretended not to notice, instead busying herself with the tea kettle while I slumped on one of the rickety chairs set up around the table, my head resting on my hands.

“When you become a vampire, it’s not just your teeth and diet that change,” Lexi said as she stoked the fire in the stove, her back toward me.

“What does that mean?” I asked defensively.

“It means that you and your brother aren’t who you used to be. You’ve both changed, and you may not know Damon as well as you think,” Lexi said, carrying two steaming mugs in her hands. “Goat’s blood.”

“I don’t like goat’s blood,” I said, pushing the mug away angrily. I sounded like a petulant toddler, and I didn’t care. “And no one knows Damon better than I do.”

“Oh, Stefan,” Lexi said, looking at me kindly. “I know. But promise me you’ll be careful. These are dangerous times—for everyone.”

At the word dangerous, something clicked in my mind. “Callie! I have to find her!”

“No!” Lexi pushed me back down on my chair. “Her father will not harm her, but he’ll kill you, given half the chance, and you’re in no shape for a fight.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but Lexi cut me off.

“Callie is fine. You can see her tomorrow. But for now, drink the blood. Fall asleep. When you awaken, you will be healed, and you, Damon, and Callie will figure out everything then.”

Lexi left the kitchen with a swish of her aprons and extinguished the lamp.

Suddenly exhaustion fell over me like a heavy blanket, and the desire to fight Lexi’s advice drained from my body. With a sigh, I lifted the mug and took a small sip. The liquid was warm and velvety, and I couldn’t help but admit that it was good.

Lexi was right—I would see Callie tomorrow to say good-bye. But I needed rest. My entire body hurt, even my heart.

At least you know you have one, I imagined Lexi saying, and I smiled in the darkness.

October 19, 1864

I ’m out of danger, but I don’t feel safe. I wonder if I’ll ever feel safe again, or will I forever long for a desire that I’ll never fulfill? Will I get used to the ache? Twenty, two hundred, two thousand years from now, will I even remember these weeks? And will I remember Callie and her red hair, her laugh? I will. I have to. Callie has saved me and given me another chance at life. In a way, it’s like she was the daylight that followed the darkness Katherine had cast upon my existence. Katherine turned me into a monster, but Callie has changed me back into the Stefan Salvatore I’m proud to be. I wish her love. I want nothing but the best for her. I want for her to live in the light and find a man—a human—who will appreciate and adore her, who will take her away from Gallagher’s house forever to a quiet home on a lake, where she can teach her children to skip stones.

I woke in the middle of the night to what I thought were hailstones bouncing against the windowpane. Despite Lexi’s rules, I peeked through a tiny slit in the curtains and squinted into the darkness. The trees were bare, their branches like ghostly limbs stretching toward the sky. Though it was a moonless night, I could see a raccoon scamper through the yard. And then, a figure standing timidly behind one of the columns on the portico.

Callie.

I hastily pulled on a shirt and slipped down the stairs, taking care to not make any noise. The last thing I wanted was for Buxton or Lexi to know that a human had followed me home.

The door shut with a thud behind me, and I saw Callie jump.

“I’m here,” I whispered, feeling thrilled, confused, and excited, all at once.

“Hi,” she said shyly.

“Are you going somewhere?” I asked, nodding at her bag.

“I hope so.” She clasped my hands with her own. “Stefan, I don’t care what you are. I’ve never cared. And I want to be with you.” She looked into my eyes. “I . . . I love you.”

I gazed at the ground, a lump in my throat. Back when I was a human, I thought I’d loved Katherine until I saw her, chained up, muzzled, and foaming at the mouth. I’d felt nothing but disgust at that vision. And yet Callie had seen me unconscious, bleeding from vervain, staked by captors, and pummeling my brother in the ring, and she still loved me. How was that possible?

“You don’t have to respond,” Callie rushed on. “I just had to tell you. And I’m leaving no matter what. I can’t stay here with Father, not after everything that’s happened. I’m getting on the train, and you can come with me. But you don’t have to. But I want you to,” she babbled.

“Callie!” I interrupted, placing a finger to her lips. Her eyes widened, shifting between fear and hope.

“I would go with you anywhere,” I said. “I love you, too, and I will for the rest of my life.”

“You mean your un-life,” she said, her eyes dancing.

“How did you know where I lived?” I asked, suddenly shy.

Callie blushed. “I followed you home once. When you ran away after the first vampire fight. I wanted to know everything about you.”

“Well, now you do.”

Unable to restrain myself, I pulled her into my arms and lowered my lips to hers, no longer afraid to hear the blood coursing in her veins or to hear her heart beat faster in anticipation. She tightened her grip around me, and our lips touched. I hungrily kissed her, feeling the softness of her lips against mine. My fangs didn’t grow, my desire was all for her, in her human form, as she was.

She was soft and warm and tasted like tangerines. In those moments, I imagined our future. We’d take the train as far away from New Orleans as possible, maybe to California, or perhaps even sail to Europe. We’d nest in a little cottage and keep livestock for me to feed from, and Callie and I would live out our days together, away from the prying eyes of society.

A nagging thought tugged at the corner of my mind: Would I turn her? I hated the thought of doing it, of sinking my teeth into her white neck, of making her live a life in which she craved blood and feared the daylight, but I also couldn’t bear the thought of seeing her grow old and die in front of me. I shook my head, trying to release those thoughts. I could deal with them later. We both could.

“Stefan,” Callie murmured, but then the murmur turned into a gasp, and she slipped out of my clutches and onto the ground. A butcher’s knife stuck into her back, blood pooling out of it.