In the Beginning... (9 page)

“You’ve got that right. Why me? And what is
that man doing to my sister? Is he hurting her?”

“He will never hurt her, though he appears a
rough man. Aodhan is a warrior. He will protect your sister until
the day he dies. Just as I shall do with you.”

“Despite what we want?”

“In time, you
will
want me. As much as I
want you.”

“Stockholm. I’m not some Patty Hurst. And my
family will be coming for us. Throw you in jail for this. Your
friend, and all who saw what you’ve done and have done nothing to
stop it.”

“They may come, but there is no law to
protect them here.”

“Sure there is. Even cities are required to
follow state and federal laws. Kidnapping is against the law—even
in Colorado. C.R.S. 18-3-301 states that using force to move
someone against their will is a first degree kidnapping case.
You're looking at life in prison minimum.”

“So you know the law then?” Once again proof
that the Goddess knew what she was doing when she gave this girl to
him. “You can learn the laws of our people, and assist me in
overseeing the judicial council.”

“Our people? Tell me what separates ‘our’
people from normal human beings?”

“That’s just it, my little love. I’m not a
human being. And come morning, neither will you be.” Would it be
best to just do it? To start the conversion process while keeping
her in the dark of what it would entail? Would that frighten her
less?

It would not lessen the pain, and he felt
that scar his soul. But it would keep her alive. Didst not the ends
justify the means, in such a case?

If such an act was committed and brought
before his council judicially,

Theo was uncertain how he—the head of the
Judicial Council for the Dardanos tribe—would rule. After 643 years
on the Earth, there were still some situations where right and
wrong remained blurred.

“You really are crazy! I want to go home,
please!”

Theo could so easily hear the fear in her
voice. How was he to make her fear him less? Especially considering
what he was about to do to her?

Yes. It would be best, he supposed, to just
get it over with for her. He would start the process. He closed his
useless eyes for a moment, then took a deep breath. Whispered the
short word to put her back into a frozen state.

It would hurt her slightly less if she did
not fight him.

***

She could not move again. How was he doing
that to her? It had to be a drug of some sort, something applied
directly to the skin. Maybe when he’d touched her arm?

He felt around her, his hands hot on her back
through her shirt. His hands found her waist and he lifted her
again. He was such a strong man.

He wrapped his hands around her and pulled
her into his chest. She wanted to fight him but could not. That was
the worst part, not being able to fight. Not being able to protect
herself. She knew some basic self-defense, Mal had insisted she
learn. But it was useless.

She was surrounded by him, his scent, his
heat, his body. His hands were in her hair, moving the strands off
her neck. He brushed her nape once, twice. Then again.

“This will hurt. I wish it wouldn’t. But it
is necessary, you see.”

Her trembling, the only movement she was
capable of making while under his strange spell, increased. She
wanted to question, to fight. To move away. She couldn’t do any of
those things.

His lips brushed against her neck. Mickey
closed her eyes, surprised even that small movement was
possible.

Blinding pain burned through
her neck. Mickey wanted to scream, but couldn’t. He was sucking at
her neck, pulling her
blood
from her body. Drinking it! Oh, God, he really
thought he wasn’t human!

She couldn’t push him away, though she tried
with every fiber of her being to get her muscles to cooperate. All
she did was exhaust herself.

How much time had passed
with him sucking the blood from her through her neck? How was it
even possible? Human teeth couldn’t pierce the neck deep enough to
make blood drinking possible, right? Was he one of those people who
had their teeth cosmetically altered to
look
like fangs? How useful would
those fangs be for sucking blood?

All of these questions flooded her head,
along with another—would he ever stop?

Mickey’s eyes closed. She was so tired, from
the strain of the day, from the kidnapping, the fighting, the fear.
This. He wasn’t going to stop and she couldn’t fight him. What was
she supposed to do?

She tried to open her eyes again, but
couldn’t. Was it fatigue or blood loss? How many pints of blood
were in the human body? Eight? Ten? That was a lot of blood for him
to drink through tiny holes in her neck.

How many pints would he have to drink before
she completely lost consciousness?

It wasn’t humanly possible for him to drink
that much, was it?

That was the last question in Mickey’s mind
before the darkness consumed her.

Theo felt the spirit leave
her body and grief hit him. In a way, he
had
lied to her this night. He had
killed her, taking away all traces of her humanity. Now he had to
replace it with his strong Dardaptoan blood and bind her to him for
all time. How was she ever to forgive him?

Her breathing was shallow, her heartbeat so
faint when he pulled her onto his lap. He’d need her close so that
she could drink from him. But how was he to get this unconscious
woman to drink from his body when she had never drank before?

Humans did not possess the necessary instinct
to drink; humans found blood drinking horrific. How was he to
overcome that?

He bit into his own wrist, waited for the
warm blood to well. He caressed her lips, pulling her mouth open.
He needed to get the blood into her, and quickly.

He held his wrist over her mouth, waiting.
The blood was in her mouth but she refused to swallow. Was she too
far gone? Had he been destined to kill his female this night?

He offered up a quick prayer to the goddess
of his people. Their fates were in the Goddess Kennera’s hands. If
she died in his hands, Theo knew he would find some way to follow
her to the next life.

His
Rajni
swallowed. Once, then again. And
again. She stopped.

Theo’s breath backed into his throat. He
waited. The blood would begin sinking into her thirsty cells,
reshaping them to process Dardaptoan instead of human.

A Dardaptoan only needed two and a half
liters of blood in their body at any one time to live, compared
with the nearly twice that amount humans carried around. He’d
pulled at least four liters from her already. If he could get two
or more liters of Dardaptoan blood into her...

She sputtered, drew in several large deep
breaths. Stopped breathing.

Theo covered her mouth with his own and
breathed for her until her lungs found their new rhythm. He
returned his bleeding wrist to her mouth. She needed more. And he
wasn’t stopping until she had what she needed.

It took hours, but her drinking grew stronger
as more of his rich blood reshaped her system. But it hurt her. And
he had to sit beside her and know that every bit of pain she
experienced was at his hands.

By the time she had stopped
screaming and rested peacefully upon his bed, Theo’s own
vestis
was covered with
blood and tears. Both her tears and his. He’d order the tunic
burned in the morning. He never wanted to see it again.

He carried her into the bathroom and stripped
the bloodied clothing from her body, then washed the blood from her
hair as best he could with his limited vision. She never stirred,
so exhausted from what he had done to her. Theo redressed her in
the warmest clothing the servants had left outside his suite.

He pulled the silk comforter around them
both, keeping it tucked tight around her shoulders. A female
Dardaptoan was extremely susceptible to the cold, and a newly
converted one would be doubly so. Then he just held her while she
slept.

She may someday forgive him for what he had
caused her this night, but Theo knew he would never forgive himself
for the way she had had to suffer.

He would spend the rest of their lifetime
making reparations for what he had done.

Someone was holding her, and before Mickey
even opened her eyes she knew it was him. She opened her eyes and
confirmed her suspicions. “What did you do to me?”

“Do you feel the new teeth in your
mouth?”

Mickey didn’t have to feel
them, she remembered them
growing.
It had not been a pleasant experience. Her own
canine teeth had fallen out, replaced too quickly by the four fangs
she now ran her tongue over. Fangs.

For blood drinking.

This wasn’t a nightmare; he was a vampire.
And now so was she.

“Why me?’’

“Why you what?” His hands were warm on her
arms, where he held her.

“Why did you pick me to...convert into what
you are? Was it something I did at the bar?”

“I didn’t pick you. The goddess I worship
did.”

“Goddesses don’t exist. They were mythical,
and put into place by people’s ignorance in times of
pre-civilization.”

“No, my little love. Goddesses are no more
mythical than my race of beings are. You would call us vampire. We
call ourselves Dardaptoan. We predate humanity. But we are nothing
like the creatures from your legends.”

“You are blood drinkers. And you are
undead.”

“I am very much
un
dead. I am
living.
I can die.
Admittedly, it is harder to kill my Kind—your Kind, now—than
humans. We can bleed to death, and we can develop infections that
poison our own blood, and we can freeze to death. Cold temperatures
slow our blood flow so drastically, anything under fifty degrees
can be deadly. And yes, we drink blood. But we never
kill
to get that blood. We
have a very active Red Cross in this city.”

“There are more of you?” Mickey’s felt her
eyes widen. “The man who has my sister? Is he a vampire, too?”

“Dardaptoan. And yes, he is.
Your sister is now a Dardaptoan, as well. Goddess Kennera has
chosen the two of you for us. Legend has it that at the moment a
Dardaptoan is born, the goddess whispers their name, plus the name
of the one creature—be it anyone from any Kind—who that babe is
destined to be with. That destined mate is known in our language as
a
Rajni
. You,
little love. It was
your
name the goddess whispered 643 years ago, when I
was born.”

Mickey still thought he was crazy. But she
had fangs. He’d drunk her blood. She’d drunk his. So what did that
make her?

It could
be chocked up to mass hysteria, only contained to the two of
them. Delusions, maybe? Some drug he’d given her when he’d touched
her? How long would it take for the drug to wear off?

She wasn’t aware she’d asked the question
aloud until he laughed and squeezed her tighter. “You are under no
drug’s influence. Drugs do not affect our people at all. It is a
great concern of our Healers.”

Mickey could hear his heart beating under her
ear. Felt his breath teasing her hair. He was alive, she could not
deny that. But he wasn’t human. How was she supposed to accept
that? “I need to see my sister. You can’t hold us here
forever.”

“You will see your sister
shortly. I believe she will be at the main breakfast room.
The
Dahr
—or king—of
our people has asked that we all meet with him and the
Dhan.
That is the queen of
our people.”

Mickey’s mind conjured up a picture of a
wrinkly old woman with fangs and red eyes. “I don’t want to meet
your queen.”

“But you already have. My dearest little
love, Aodhan and I were not the only Dardaptoans on your family
property last eve. There were two others. Two of your cousins are
also here in the resort.”

Ice shot up her spine. “Who?” But she
already knew. Only two of her female cousins had been on the
property last night. “Josey and Emily. Did they hurt them?”

He hesitated. “The conversion is not an easy
process, but both your cousins live. And the future shows me they
will be well cared for all of their days.”

“You predict the future, too?”

“I am Theodoric the Prognosticator. It is a
gift that has been passed down my family line since the year of
1720 B.C.” He spoke matter-of-factly. As if he believed he could
see the future.

“Tell me what will happen to me, then.”
Mickey didn’t believe people could predict the future, how could
she? That was the stuff of science fiction. “Predict my
future.”

“That I cannot do. Your
future is too closely tied to mine. I do not
see
for those closest to me, nothing
more than vague impressions. I can also sometimes see glimpses of
an individual’s histories or greatest desires.”

“Convenient. You made a claim you could not
support. Why should I believe you about any of this? Where’s your
evidence that any of this is real?”

“In time, you will come to accept.”

Theo wished he was as confident as his tone
implied. He had seen some of her future, as she lay trembling
against him while the changes racked her body.

They would have children.
Several, and that pleased him. But he knew instinctively now was
not the time to tell her that. Their first would be born within the
year, and would have her mother’s red gold hair and his
eyes.
She
would
never suffer the loss of vision that plagued her father’s lines,
though she would have great prognosticating gifts. Usually, in his
family, when one possessed great gifts, the cost of that gift was
the sense of sight. It had been so for thousands of years of
Sebastos’ progeny.