Эллен Шрайбер - Cryptic Cravings

“Well, I am not planning on leaving.”

“But you weren’t planning on coming here, were you?”

“No. .”

“See?”

“But I didn’t have the same reasons to stay there as I do here,” he said. “Is the only way I can convince you how much I care to. .”

I waited. Maybe this was my chance to demand my need to be a vampire. But it had to be a decision he was ready for as much as I was.

“It isn’t something we need to decide tonight, is it?” he asked.

If I said yes and his answer was that he wasn’t going to turn me, what was I to do then? Normally I was daring.

Adventure ran through my blood just as much as oxygen did. But this kind of risk — the emotional kind — was far different than sneaking into rumored haunted houses or cemeteries. This was my love life.

I gave him a puppy-dog face. “Of course not. But I wonder if it is something you want,” I said with trepidation, “or is it only my fantasy?”

I waited. I knew Alexander had thought about it. We’d discussed it before. But as he said, he was going to be eighteen and me seventeen — and, most important, I was now being faced with watching other vampires bite. It wasn’t something we could put off forever.

“I can guarantee you it’s not just your fantasy,” he re-assured me. Then he glanced away, looking in the direction of the Mansion sitting atop Benson Hill. “You are so much like my grandmother. .”

“But wasn’t she lonely? For the rest of your family? Is that the fate you’d wish for me?”

Alexander faced me and stroked my cheek. “The only fate I’d wish for you is for us to be together.”

My heart skipped a beat.

Slowly and seductively he leaned me back on the blanket. I gazed up at Alexander, the starlight filling my eyes. He began tickling me.

When I’d wrestled with Billy growing up, I’d learned to relax my muscles, which resulted in my no longer being ticklish. My little brother would run off, disgruntled, and I’d claim victory. But Alexander was no Billy Boy. I squirmed in my vampire boyfriend’s powerful clutches and giggled like a little girl.

My head whipped side to side and my face hit something jagged on the ground.

“Ouch!” I cried.

Alexander released his grip. “Are you okay? I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

He helped me sit up. I felt only a slight bit of pain. But it was Alexander’s reaction that disturbed me.

He was staring at my mouth.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

Alexander didn’t speak. Instead his gazed was fixed.

I touched the corner of my lip.

A mixture of lavender lipstick and dark red liquid stained my ultrawhite fingertips. Oozing blood. To Alexander it was like an exotic perfume. Tantalizing and irresistible. Fresh blood to a hungry vampire.

I’d only been in this situation with Alexander once before, when he had come to my house to take me to the Snow Ball. I’d nicked my fingertip on the corsage pin. He’d had that same intense expression as he did now, only then I hadn’t known he was a vampire, and I’d just quickly wiped the blood away.

But tonight was different. I knew that Alexander was a vampire. And the way he stared at me, so transfixed and intense, slightly frightened me but also made me feel wanted and alive.

Though this blood was my lifeline, Alexander needed my blood — or anyone else’s — for his own existence. Others’ blood was his lifeline.

Alexander wasn’t repulsed by the sight and scent but intently attracted to it. I’d never witnessed it as much as I did today. It was apparent he was fighting his impulses. I wasn’t sure if I wanted him to.

He shut his eyes and turned away from me.

“What would it be like?” I asked.

“Don’t. .” Alexander’s appearance was scornful. Then his eyes softened. “I want to help you. Take care of your cut. But I can’t. Don’t you see how hard it is for me? I can’t even help the one person I love. I can’t come near you or I might—” Alexander was fighting his natural impulse, and I was fighting mine. He rose up, his hands balled up in fists. He was biting his own lip. But I followed him.

I held my bloodstained fingers out to him.

I wanted Alexander to crave me more than he already did. Like Sebastian had craved Becky. But was that possible? Alexander was so intense and passionate as it was — was there anything deeper that he could feel or show me? And didn’t he already crave me and my blood without me tempting him in this way?

I wondered if Alexander was right — that I might not like the vampire lifestyle after all, or that my lifelong dream of hiding from the sun and rising by the moonlight might not be as romantic as it seemed. Ultimately, becoming a vampire would be a decision I couldn’t change. A test I couldn’t retake. An ill-fitting dress I couldn’t exchange. It would be for life. Forever. For eternity. But this wasn’t about being turned. Alexander and I weren’t on sacred ground. This was about something different.

My boyfriend stared at me, consumed by the scent of blood and the irresistible desire to devour it. “This is what you want? Me to be like the others — Jagger and Sebastian? Impulsive, needy?”

“No. I want you to be you. This was never about being anyone else,” I said.

I could see Alexander was in turmoil. I was tempting him with something that was bigger than a fantasy to him.

This was his everyday reality — a basic desire he had to fight against.

“It’s okay,” I said. I moved back and glanced away from him.

But instead of retreating, too, he stood still. I could feel his gaze fixed on me with a power that was hypnotic.

“No,” he said. “Don’t go.”

I was surprised by Alexander’s response and heeded his plea. I wasn’t sure what he would do next. I almost gasped. Instead of leaving me, he stepped closer and took my face in his hands.

Alexander was so close to me, his alluring presence took my breath away. He slowly reached his hand to my cheek. I froze as if the events were happening in slow motion. As his firm hand slid seductively along my face, I melted with it. Then he tenderly wiped the blood from my mouth. It was as if he had touched my soul. My blood was now staining his fingers just as it had stained mine.

I waited with bated breath as the biggest moment of my life unfolded. I didn’t think anything could have been dreamier than the first time we kissed or I slept in his coffin. Alexander was moments from taking my blood as his own.

I was suddenly filled with guilt and sadness as I thought maybe Alexander was doing this for the wrong reasons.

Maybe I’d just worn him down.

I took his hand and lifted my sleeve to wipe the dripping blood away. “You don’t have to. . ” I finally said.

Alexander gently blocked my hand with his free one. “I want to,” he said intensely.

The moment seemed surreal, and I felt as if I were in a dream. My body flooded with warmth.

Alexander stared at the dewy blood droplets now trickling down the side of his ghost white palm. It was as if he was making the decision of a lifetime. This wasn’t just any blood to him. It was my blood.

Alexander glanced at me and smiled. His sharp fangs caught the moonlight and glistened like icicles. Then Alexander drew his hand to his mouth. I watched, my mouth agape, as he took his bloody hand to his lips, pressed his hand to his mouth, and the red droplets disappeared. He inhaled a huge audible breath, as if he were breathing the life of me into him.

I gazed at Alexander. He appeared transformed. For a moment it seemed as if his pale complexion was almost alive. Alexander whipped toward me with unbridled intensity. He leaned into me, his hair flopping over his forehead, and kissed me with such force my knees shook and my flesh quivered. I thought I might die of heavenly bliss.