One week. For one whole week that smell has practically taken control of me. It’s like a tidal wave washed over my neighborhood and as the water settled, the scent of it was left to linger everywhere — in and on every single item of my home. This smell is like a luscious chemical in the air, clinging to everything it floats past. Which means only one thing. Whoever has blood this strong, is close. Very close. Possibly even next door. It’s a salty, petulant smell, sort of like the sea itself. I’ve never smelt anything like it. What’s even more odd, is that it doesn’t make me thirst. My throat doesn’t itch to suck down every last drop, like it does with most humans, especially the youthfully spirited ones. It only makes me curious, and wanting. Weird enough, it turns me on. The very first second that it bursted into my nostrils and landed in my mouth I became aroused. My manliness stood at attention like a soldier ready to march.
What sucks the worst, is that I can’t act on it. I can’t investigate, and give it a taste. Not even a scratch of the skin that I can lick off afterward, just to slosh it around in my mouth. I can’t tease my fangs and give my curiosity -and loins- some ease. My family hasn’t survived, evolved even, over the course of the last several hundred thousand years because we’re impulsive. On the contrary, we’re calculated creatures and we follow a strict set of rules. The first, and possibly most important rule of all is that we never, ever, ever, under any circumstance kill close to home. Ever. Period.
The sun sank down into the horizon, and darkness consumed the sky a couple of hours ago. So naturally I’m wide awake. Laying in bed, sniffing the air like a junkie feigning for his next score.
The vibration of my phone in my pocket as a text rings through teases between my legs even more. I groan and pull it to see what it says. It’s my brother, Vincent.
Vin: Hey Bro. My flight was just confirmed, I’ll be there tomorrow afternoon. Excited to see what the hell this smell is you’re talking about, but if it’s too intense I think we should leave. Take off for a couple weeks. You down?
I text him back.
Tegan: Sounds good, I’m due for a getaway. It’s been months since we had a good feast. Text me when your plane is about to take off. I’ll be at the airport to get you when you land.
Vincent is the oldest sibling in my family. We’re spread out in every country, but he’s the only other of us in Canada. We limit our visits, as vampires are like pack animals. Sometimes our urges are too hard to control when in groups. Our impulses get stronger with each other’s energy, so we have to keep our distance physically, yet stay in touch all the same.
The longer I lay in bed, the more I’m consumed by the smell. I’m yet to see it’s culprit. Whoever it is has been hiding out inside somewhere. I’ve fought the urge to investigate long enough. If Vincent will be here tomorrow then tonight might be my last chance. I have to at least see. If I can’t taste, then I at least need to look. If I don’t get a glimpse of whoever’s blood is this intoxicating then I’ll always wonder. It’s a smell I’ll never forget, like it’s calling to me. Whispering my name in the dark. That’s it, I have to go. I have to follow the smell before I go mad!
I pull a hoodie over my head and cover my bare chest before buttoning up my undone pants and slipping on my shoes. I slip out my bedroom window, rather than using the door. A few of my neighbors are nosy little humans, and you never know when they’ll be up… watching. Rule number two, never get too comfortable or let your guard down. I close my eyes tightly and take a whiff of the thick night air, relaxing my shoulders and distinguishing the smells that swirl around. I know the scent of my neighbors, each and every one of them. I can also tell the direction of their blood trials. It’s a blessing and a curse, what allows us to hunt, to drink. I could tell you the age and purity of every human within a city block, just by taking a long concentrated sniff of the night air. Especially after a rainstorm, like the one we had yesterday. Not that I need to confirm the direction of THAT smell, but the need to fill my nose with it is impulsive.
I follow, and jump the short plastic fence that separates my townhouse from the one next to it. There’s a window open, it’s on the second floor. First I glance in all directions. No lights are on anywhere, no one will see me. So I crouch down, and launch myself upward. Up to the open window, I cling to its frame and hold my breath. It takes every bit of strength I have not to give into the smell and help myself into this home. Instead, I freeze. What I see isn’t at all what I expected. How could it be? No one would expect it. Even those of us that know magic, and power, and the inner working of life beyond that of the average human comprehension. What I see is breathtaking. And I’m not talking about Fate, as she lingers over the girl that I can’t peel my eyes from. The girl who’s lucious blood runs blue as ice, refusing to slow its pulse under the pressure above her.
I haven’t slept much my first week here, and I haven’t left home either. I’ve watched my new neighbors out the windows, playing with their children, smiling and laughing. I was lonely and restless, afraid to go out. I didn’t want to see the colors. The green go-ahead from Fate telling me to help a criminal accomplish their task. The purple glow of an accident, waiting for me to make it happen. The red tell-tale prompt, begging for my hand in introducing lovers meant to meet. It always pissed me off to have all this power, yet only use it for her. I didn’t feel the need to be Fate’s little errand bitch, especially if I was meant to get stronger. I just knew that I’d never catch a break, and I refused to succumb to her. So, despite my wrestling the intuition and physical energy pushing me toward the door, I fought it. Mom said that Fate would show herself, so I dug in my heels until she did.
One week, that’s all it took. Once it happened, and she did show up, I wished she wouldn’t have.
Mom warned me that meeting Fate would be overwhelming, but what she failed to mention was the physical pain. Her beautiful ugliness, and her blinding pulse. When Mom said that Fate’s kinship is a dish better served cold, she must have meant that in a literal way, because my survival of her icy chill was a miracle in and of itself.
I think the sudden temperature drop is what initially woke me from my already disturbed sleep, but it’s hard to say because the pain that accompanied the chill was excruciating. The blood of a human would have frozen instantly. Luckily for me, my blood runs with a blue tint. It was this night, the night I met Fate, up close and personal that I learned why.
“Wake, girl.” Her voice was rigid.
I tried to open my eyes but was unable. I tried to sit but couldn’t manage that either. I was stuck, frozen to my bed like a chunk of ice to the inner lid of a freezer. I moaned as the pain slugged from my joints toward the outer edge of my skin, everything in between aching with every pulse that is Fate. I should have known her energy would buzz and move. All things do, to a point, but her pulse was everywhere. Outside of me, inside of me, surrounding and engulfing me into herself.
“I said wake.” She grew louder.
I forced my eyelids apart, a slight crack. The light of her nearly blinded me, my eyes so cold that they burned white hot. It took a moment for me to suck in a breath of cloudy air. When I did, my sight cleared, granting me the vision of her deep-sea eyes. She was floating a few inches above me, but the colors that beamed from her in all directions filled my bedroom. I couldn’t tell where she ended, and they began. I moaned again.
“Don’t speak, girl.” She commanded. Her fiery hair moved along with her buzzing energy. It looked like she was underwater, but only because the air was thin, and her pulse moved it in waves.
“You know why I’m here?”
My voice was frozen in my throat, trapped there, unable to escape. Just like the rest of me, it longed to break free, but was forced to obey by Fate herself. The coldhearted bitch lingered. Her breath sweet, and her sharp features mesmerizing. I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs. I wanted to beg for my mother, and for my freedom. I wanted to tell her to leave me be, that I didn’t want to be a direct line of her very blood.
“You are a part of me, child. You may have your freedom of choice but taking the fateful options will always be in your best interest. The pain of me will pass over time, and the more you listen the stronger you’ll be. My will is a part of you, we are one. Tomorrow you will listen to your gut. You will do as I command. Over time, you’ll appreciate my visits. You’ll feel my power as your own and find comfort within. Only when you’re ready may you be granted Bessie’s company. Together you will rule.”
Then, like the snap of a finger she was gone. I fell from my bed to the floor in a fit of bone-crushing rage, coughing the ice from my lungs, and cursing her name.
“Fate!” I shouted. “Come back, you bitch!”
As the beautiful witch cursed Fate, I jumped down from my perch. My fangs returned to that of a regular human’s teeth and I made my way back to my own bedroom window in aww. Aww of her, and aww of Fate. I’ve heard tales of such magic, and the Goddesses who rule the realms. I remove my hoodie and climb back into bed, unsure what to make of what I’d just witnessed.
I’m humbled yet lost, lusting yet withdrawn from my own inner needs. At this point, there’s only one thing I’m certain of… I’m hers. Every part of me has changed overnight. I’ve been imprinted, stamped by something bigger than myself. Vampires are not to be mixed with witches, that’s an ancient fact. But her, she’s different. I can feel it in her blood, smell it in the air, and I with the very pulsing of my own immortal soul, I know with an internal certainty that I’m hers. I belong to her. In every sense of belonging. I’m hers.
THANKS FOR READING MY SCENE!!!
I chose Gretchen because she’s a character from the WORK IN PROGRESS, that my co-writer and I are currently doing a final round of editing on. It’s scheduled to be released on April 22!!!!! SO EXCITED! The Suspenseful Collection Vol 2 is the second installment of the short stories that Kim Knight and I have been working together on for a few years now. The first collection was released back in 2018 after an interactive blog challenge writing exercise was such a fun success for us!
If you’re a blogger, please sign up for a release blitz for TSC 2 HERE, we’d love your support.
If you’re an interested reader, you can pre-order TSC 2 on Amazon HERE!
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NOW, FOR THE MOST IMPORTANT PART OF THIS POST………
THANK YOU to the writers who joined in this month’s challenge. It was such a fun one!! Iove these scenes SO MUCH. Readers please check out these Vampire Lurking scenes, they’re AMAZING!