The Violet Line (22 page)

Sliding in behind the wheel of my Corsa, I flipped down the driver’s mirror and stared at the person reflected back at me. I was almost unrecognisable; my skin was even more translucent than usual, I had purple smudges under my eyes and a nice big bruise blossoming on my right cheek. I wasn’t sure how I’d gotten that. I didn’t remember Graham hurting me but then, I was well and truly out of it in there. At least I would eventually remember everything that happened; not that I really wanted the memories, but it was always better to know.

I lifted the cloth away from my neck and gasped. It had stopped bleeding and I could see two small puncture wounds where he had sunk his fangs into me. I knew I’d be ok, but it still shocked me; at least I could feel myself beginning to heal. My gift allowed me to be a little bit hardier than other humans and I was happy to discover that I wasn’t so worn out that I couldn’t heal faster. I really didn’t want to have to take a trip to the hospital.

I turned on the engine and heat blasted out of the vents, filling the car. It was only then that I realised I was shivering. I must have lost more blood than I thought. The fact that my jeans were ripped at the knees and were allowing the cold Irish autumn air up and around my legs wasn’t helping much. I peered out the window at the bright sunshine, the only thing that was keeping me alive right now, and shivered again. Come nightfall, Graham wouldn’t be the only thing hunting me and I needed to be ready.

As I pulled the car out onto the road, I remembered Graham’s glee as he’d pulled me under with his gaze and taken me in his cold embrace. He’d roughed me up a bit, slapping and punching. I could remember the excited quickening of his breath as he toyed with me like a twisted game of cat and mouse; except I let him do it all to me, even enjoyed it because he held me in his control. It excited him to beat his prey. He enjoyed the sound of their pulse thundering in his ears and mouth as he sunk his fangs into them; he loved watching the marks and bruises blossom over their skin. Graham made me sick. I knew I’d have nightmares about his other games and victims whenever I got to sleep.

I shouldn’t have been able to read his memories like that. It confused me; I had never been properly bitten by a vampire before and Sam had never mentioned to me whether a bite could induce this kind of memory share. If this was another new aspect to my gift, I wasn’t sure I really wanted anything to do with it. I had always found it easy to read people, instinctively knowing whether they were truly good or bad, and vampires were the same. I knew a good one when I felt him – it was how I had known what Sam was – but I had never experienced anything like this and it frightened me. I shuddered at some of the images that Graham had filled my head with and gripped the steering wheel tighter as I tried to concentrate only on the road ahead of me.

After making it back to the flat at a much slower pace than normal, I showered and bandaged up the worst of my injuries. I tried to shuffle once more through what Graham had told me. I realised now he’d been a little too careless with how much he had shared with me, believing that it wouldn’t matter what he told me because he was going to kill me. I had seen that in his mind clearly enough. The thoughts flitted around my mind like elusive butterflies; I needed to concentrate to sort out the jumble. After a vampire pulls you under with their eyes, it tends to fry your short-term memory a little bit. If I could concentrate hard enough, I would remember most of what he’d said.

I sat down on the edge of my sofa and closed my eyes. I pushed the images of Graham’s last screaming and bleeding victim from my mind; if I didn’t know better, I’d have said he was a psychopath before he became a vampire. The images were so violent and vivid and didn’t want to leave my mind, but then an image of Sam smiling filled my head and I set to my task with renewed vigour. I grabbed at the first thought I had stolen from his head. What was the word that he had thought so hard about…? I screwed my eyes up tight and remembered. My eyes flew open; I was the key to some great vampiric prophecy or curse. I still wasn’t too clear on the details, but what I did know was that the vampires thought if I was turned, I would become their dark queen. Sam had known and had tried to protect me from them by trying to kill himself. Sam was the connection to me. Graham’s mind had held thoughts of smug victory; he had found me where the council had failed but he knew that the council was trying to find a way to connect with me through Sam. Our love was like a paper trail that they were desperately trying to follow to the end, and our love endangered us both so much. That’s why he hadn’t wanted me to look for him. He was hoping he would be dead, and with him the council’s only hope of finding me. But I knew he wasn’t dead. With my visions of his torture and the dream in which I’d healed him, I knew he couldn’t possibly be dead; I’d have felt it.

Looking at it in perspective now, the connection between us had grown so strong; I’d probably have died myself. Our connection was too strong to survive a love lost like that. Sam, My Sam; all the memories I had of him made up like jigsaw puzzles in my mind. Feeling them hurt like a gaping wound in my chest. But I still had to remember. It was a comfort as well as a torture; memories like the first time we’d met. I had always been interested in vampires; they were outsiders like me. I thought they were beautiful even if some of them did horrible things, but I always felt a strange pull towards some of them. Not the types like Graham but I believe with every species you have good and bad; humans and animals are no exception and I was drawn to the good.

I remembered standing in the bar that night and meeting Sam for the first time.
I was waiting for Annie to arrive. She was always late and that night was no exception. We’d been friends since we met in college, both studying English in UCC. She was the only one I’d ever trusted enough to tell my secret to and that was the night I’d saved her from an overzealous boy she knew; she wasn’t interested in him, but he was interested in her. We’d become best friends ever since then.

Standing at the bar twiddling a strand of my long dark brown hair, a nervous habit of mine which used to drive my mother crazy; she said I would ruin my hair. I felt him arrive in the bar. Smoothing down the front of my grey shift dress, I scanned the crowd for the vampire. The hairs on my neck alerted me to his presence. As I turned my head, my blue eyes picked out the most gorgeous man I’d ever laid eyes on. Staring at him, his green eyes caught my blue ones and I was lost. It felt like I was falling forwards into his eyes and it wasn’t until I felt a pair of strong arms wrap around me and cradle me to their chest that I realised I had fallen. Apologising profusely to whoever I had fallen on, I searched for my green eyed vamp but I failed to find the angel who had literally bowled me over. The hairs on my neck were still standing but the disappointment I felt that I couldn’t find him almost knocked me down for a second time.

But more than this, I felt an irrational sense of disappointment that he didn’t take any notice of the girl he had literally knocked over with one glance. I felt a blush creeping up my neck as the humiliation set in. I have been told that I am pretty; five-foot six, long dark chocolate hair, very pale skin and big blue eyes. I’m not athletic; I have a pretty average build. And obviously I was too average for him, I thought. I caught a piece of my hair and began twiddling it as I pulled out of my rescuers embrace. I turned to thank him properly this time and was caught once again by those beautiful green eyes, but this time they were just eyes with gold flecks spinning ceaselessly around the pupil. He was beautiful. The realisation struck me then that he had caught me, but how had he done that when I had been looking at him? How did he move that fast? The thought made me dizzy. I put my hand out to steady myself and found his hand closing around mine.

I closed my eyes tight, worried I might hurt him with my power accidentally – in situations where I’m flustered, I’m not exactly the best at controlling it – but nothing happened. I opened my eyes in shock. “What’s happened,” I thought, scrabbling through my mind for an explanation to the absence of my gift. I looked into his eyes again. The shock must have really shown on my face because first a grin spread across his face and then he started to laugh, a deep resonant sound that was almost touchable. I felt it wrap around me in a velvety hug. I had loved his laugh from the first second I heard it, but I also think I loved him almost as quickly.

I felt his voice in my head like a rustle through the autumn trees; it sent a shiver of anticipation up my spine. “I’ve been looking for you,” he whispered. I watched his mouth move but I didn’t hear him. Concern crossed his face and I snapped back to reality.

“
Are you ok?” he asked, holding me tight in his arms once more. He seemed reluctant to release me and as I began to disentangle myself, I felt just as reluctant to part from his embrace. But the mortification of behaving like such a ditz forced me to stand on my own.

“
I-I’m f-ine” I managed to splutter out, stuttering and avoiding his probing green eyed gaze. He extended his hand towards me in a familiar gesture of friendship.

“
I’m Sam Frances, at your service,” he said, laughter edging his voice. Gingerly taking his hand in mine, I shook it. His grasp was cool to the touch but it wasn’t unpleasant; it felt comforting against my own too hot skin. I knew he was a vampire; well, I was almost positive of the fact, I thought.

“
I’m Jade Snow,” I told him, still avoiding his eyes. “I’m waiting for my friend.”

His face fell. “Oh, your boyfriend, is it?” He made the question sound like an accusation.

“
No…” I answered, a little surprised, meeting his gaze finally and once again falling into his beautiful green pools. Suddenly, his eyes darkened and he ripped his hand out of mine and clutched it with his other. It was his turn to look shocked and his eyes had become just eyes once more.

“
What are you?” He gasped, as he rubbed his hand. I realised a little ironically that I still had my gift and I had just made him feel it. Sometimes it appeared at the most inconvenient of times and this was definitely one of them. I hadn’t even tried to use my gift on him or wanted him to feel any of the pain that I could inflict. Once more, the humiliation forced colour to mount my cheeks at an alarming rate.

“
I’m so sorry,” I mumbled as I turned and began pushing my way out through the crowds of dancers.

“
Wait,” he yelled after me but I didn’t wait or turn around, even though I wanted to. Instead, I stumbled for the exit and out into the night…

Hugging my arms around myself on my sofa, I realised that I had curled up into a protective ball at some point during my reminiscing about Sam. I hadn’t gone back to him that night when he’d called after me; just like he didn’t come back when I called him the night he left me. But he had found me and I would find him. He left to die; to kill himself… the thought invaded my head. I had pushed that knowledge away since he left, not wanting to think about it. The pain of it rendered me incapable of anything other than just sitting there, holding myself as it threatened to rip me apart. My Sam; my beautiful, wonderful, talented, kind and gentle Sam had tried to kill himself to protect me from them. Did he not know that if he died I would, too? What would be the point in continuing? I couldn’t live knowing he wasn’t sharing this world with me; it would become a much darker place without him. I held onto the tiny piece of anger that had begun to form in my gut. They had almost cost me my soul mate; they had forced him to make that decision. They had caused Sam to leave. The anger grew; I needed this emotion. Clean and pure, it pushed me to think strategically, made me hate them for what they had planned for me and because of what they had made Sam do for me. I stood up and made my way into the kitchen.

It was pretty basic really, but for what I was paid in my job as a typist, it was grand. Mom and Dad had wanted me to study law and become some sort of barrister or what not.

“
It’s not that you don’t have the brains,” they’d inform me often enough.

“
It’s just you’re not applying yourself,” Mom would continue. I applied myself alright, just not the way they wanted. I was artistic. I loved music, all types of it except for heavy dance music; I always thought that was just noise. I could kind of play the piano, but only by listening to a song and then attempting it. I couldn’t read music; mom and dad believed that would take time away from my studies. I could draw and wasn’t half bad at it; what I loved to draw and paint more than anything was dreams. Sam often told me that my thinking process worked the same way as a Salvador Dali painting; it always made me smile because he didn’t see what I saw in such simple things. I don’t know, maybe I’m just a bit mad; thinking about it, maybe that’s what he was trying to get at. I smiled as this popped into my head. My one true passion however had always been writing. In my childhood, it had always consisted of me writing fairytales about magical vampiric princes who always rescued the damsel from the evil clutches of the wicked witch. My stories had grown up a bit since then, but I still dreamed of my prince; only now it was me rescuing him instead of the other way around. Hooray for feminism.

Taking down a white mug and the cocoa powder, I heaped three spoons into it before adding milk and shoving it in the microwave for two minutes. Cocoa always calmed and comforted me and after this morning’s events, I felt I deserved it. Glancing at the clock, it read one-twenty; maybe I could get some rest before tonight’s fun and games. I ached everywhere. Pulling the mug out and cradling it in my hands, the aroma of chocolate invaded my head and gave me a warm fuzzy feeling that only chocolate can. I headed for my bedroom. Sitting on the edge of my bed, I set my alarm for four-thirty, Lorcan would be collecting me at around five-thirty, or so aunt Emily had said.