Twas the Night Before Christmas : Twice the Night Before Christmas - Holiday Story Event 2013 - 1. Twice the Night Before Christmas

Twice the Night before Christmas

When I breathe against the cold window, it fogs. I hadn't thought I could still breathe and that the air would be moist and warm like it had been when I was human.

Yes that's right, I'm not human anymore; I'm a vampire. Shocking, huh? Well for me it still is, although it happened over a year ago. I always loved vampires, dressed up as a vampire on All Hollows Eve, yet I'd never thought they really existed. To be honest, even now there is a small part in me that still doubts their... our existence. I could easily prove it to myself though, and I admit, I have done so on several occasions in the past. I only need to stop breathing – easy as pie – because that's the thing, I can breathe just like the next human, but I don't have to, not anymore. Vampire, remember?

I won't dwell on how I became one of them, that's a story for another time. Today I will tell you the story of what happened after I became a vampire.

***

The morning of All Saints Day I had a brain-melting headache and the urge to drink down a lake. Nothing special you might think, after a night of partying and drinking that would be quite normal, only I hadn't partied; I had spent All Hollows Eve at home, reading. I didn't even finish the glass of red wine I had poured myself that evening... but I digress.

My Master's voice woke me. That is another vampire thing. I just knew it was him and I had to obey. I shot out of bed, managed to slip on Anne Rice's “Interview with the Vampire”, smacked Master in the face in the process, before I landed on my ass with an undignified yelp. I sort of froze then, wondering whether he would immediately kill me or wait to make a show out of it in front of his vampire friends. I instinctively knew the guy glaring at me, lips pressed together into a thin line, icy grey eyes locked onto mine, was a predator and a fucking dangerous one at that.

The next thing I remembered was waking up in an unknown room, when a man I vaguely remembered as Luther, walked in, a tray in his hand. The coppery smell of warm blood wafted over, instantly making my stomach cramp. The scent worked like a trigger pulse; it made me throw up all over the poor guy. The worst part of it all? The smell increased. I had vomited blood.

When I finally finished emptying my stomach, I sat huddled in a corner of my bed, silently freaking out because by then I had understood that becoming a vampire was nothing like they told you in those books.

***

The next few weeks were pure agony. The change started when Master fed me his blood, after that, they gave me any blood they had. My problem was, every time I took in only the smallest portion it came back up within minutes and it felt like I spat out ten times the amount of what I had ingested. As a human I had hated blood, its smell, its taste, its sight; I was almost allergic to it. Now it looked like, as vampire, I was still allergic to it. Normally the change from human to vampire takes three to five days, if the new vampire feeds regularly. This new vampire didn't, couldn't.

I couldn't walk without help, which was especially fun when I had to go to the bathroom because, yes, as a vampire you still need to pee, at least when the only stuff you can stomach is water. There were chest pains, wheezing, rapid breathing, fast heart rate, nausea, sweating. The whole range of what 'feeling like shit' could probably mean.

One of the high points in my whole miserable existence had been when my mouth suddenly filled with blood, and spitting it out I heard a distinct clunk clunk because my canines just landed in the bin. Shocked, I put my tongue into the gap and ouch, cut myself with the tips of the new shiny and fucking sharp vampire fangs that were already breaking out of my gums. And when I scratched my strangely tingly skin absentmindedly I slashed myself open because, damn, my fingernails had become claws, and for the life of me I didn't know how to retract them. Good thing by then the enhanced healing thing had kicked in also.

To this day, it beats me how anyone would choose to become a vampire.

***

In vampire society it's an unwritten law that the Master helps and supports the fledgling in any way he can. Mine didn't acknowledge this responsibility. He was barely interested in me once it was clear what a failure I was.

Then one night Master came into the room, scrunched up his nose at the smell – I had thrown up again– while I lay panting and sweating in my bed, reflexively closing and relaxing my fists. My fingernails felt as if someone was pushing a splint under them.

He stared at me with cold grey eyes and I suddenly knew he was there to kill me. I don't know how I did it, but one moment I was lying in my bed, barely able to lift a finger, and the next I was crouched on the windowsill, newly grown fangs bared, clawed hands raised, hissing at him. I wasn't going to make it easy.

Thinking about that now, I must have looked ridiculous, ragged, and filthy, wearing nothing but black boxer shorts threatening to fall off my hips. No wonder the bastard just smiled. Smiled! I longed to launch myself at him and rip him limb by limb. I wouldn't have stood a chance. Luckily, Luther calmly stepped between us.

"Skylar needs some more time is all, Master. He will come around eventually."

Master sneered. "One week, if he isn't able to hold his blood by then, I'll put him down." With that he left. As soon as the door closed behind him, I almost fell down on my knees. I was so exhausted; I could barely crawl back to bed.

Luther shook his head. "Well, well, well, little one, Master actually seemed to be a little impressed. You finally showed you have some spirit. He is one of the strongest vampires around. His sire was Lord Alexander, after all. He can't have a weak fledgling."

Luther said 'Lord Alexander' as if it should mean something to me. Back then it didn't.

***

I felt weaker every day. Seeing Luther's concerned looks, I knew it would soon be over. He had told me what would happen if I couldn't feed. I would go into rigor, a status between death and life.

On Christmas Eve I sat on the windowsill, which had become my favorite place. Wrapped in the duvet, I looked out onto the snow-covered lawn and thought about how it would feel lying in the snow, going numb, fading away, getting it fucking over with.

I woke to two men I didn't know watching me.

Vampires.

"May I introduce you to Lord Alexander and Lord Malik, Skylar? Lord Alexander is Master Dermot's sire," Luther said.

Both men were in their early thirties, or so it seemed. They looked around the room, until the smaller one's gaze fell on me again. Onyx eyes, which so didn't match his white-blond hair, examined me intensely. I felt naked, bared. He cocked his head slightly and honest to God, he sniffed at me, his eyes widened and his expression became grim.

"So it is true, what a fool." He nodded to the other man. "Malik love, would you take him to the car please?" and to Luther, "We'll take Skylar with us. Please inform Dermot that he is with us and that we are not to be contacted by him for any reason."

"Sky will be better, though, yes?"

"Of course."

Malik took a step in my direction and I tensed. My muddled brain didn't work all that well back then, but I had understood that two obviously very strong vampires wanted to take me away and that I couldn't do anything about it. Panicked, I looked at Luther for help.

Luther folded the duvet tightly over my chest, whispering, "It's cold outside." Then he cupped my face with his hands. "Don't be afraid Sky, they are here to help you; everything will be okay, I promise."

He hugged me, kissed my forehead, and smiled. "I will see you when you're better."

Alexander had already opened the door. “Come,” he said curtly, before he strode out of the room. Wrapping the duvet around me some more, Malik took me into his arms like I weighed nothing and hurried to keep up with Alexander.

Outside there was a limousine parked, and a driver dashed out of the vehicle as soon as he saw us and opened the door.

"To the airport, Neal."

Alexander climbed into the car, reached out, and Malik handed me over like a bundle of clothes. It was embarrassing.

They didn't speak during the entire trip and were clearly not open to being spoken to either. The limousine stopped on the airfield beside a private jet. Malik carried me into the plane where Alexander immediately ordered two glasses filled with ice cubes. He sat down, bit into his wrist, and I watched his blood dripping into the glass until it was filled one-third of the way. Shaking it lightly, he discarded the ice cubes of the other glass, drained the blood into it, and held it to my lips. I shook my head weakly.

With an unexpected caring voice, he said, "Come on Sky, don't you want to live? I cooled the blood down; you will barely taste it, just swallow as fast as you can."

The quiet intensity in his voice didn't leave me any choice. I opened my mouth obediently and swallowed as ordered. He was right; I barely tasted the blood, especially after he gave me a mint to mask the aftertaste. Every time I woke during our flight, Alexander had a small portion of icy cold blood and a mint ready for me. When we finally reached Berlin, I was already feeling better and, with Malik’s help, I could leave the plane on my own, albeit on wobbly feet.

***

We stayed in Berlin until the end of January. The only thing I clearly remember is watching the spectacular New Year's fireworks at Brandenburg Gate and that I thought of my friends at home and what they might think of my disappearance. I felt strangely out of tune with myself, especially when I saw Alexander and Malik kissing at midnight.

Other than that, I slept a lot, drank copious amounts of Alexander's cooled-down blood, and slowly became stronger.

In February we went to Venice. Since the seventeenth century, Malik has loved to celebrate the carnival. It was there that Alexander had turned him.

And it was there that I learned about blood mates.

It is very rare for a vampire to find his blood mate. In all his time on Earth, Alexander has only known of two other pairs besides himself and Malik, and he has been around for more than one thousand years.

When older vampires find a human who has a special sort of blood, they can't restrain themselves and they wind up killing the human by drinking him dry. Then the vampires instinctively turn them. After that they have a choice to make; either kill the human before the change is complete, or accept them as their blood mate. According to Alexander, no vampire in his right mind ever killed their blood mate; they are looked at as a rare and precious gift of fate.

I am Dermot's blood mate, which means I can only drink my master's blood. It seemed he couldn't make up is mind, whether to kill me or to keep me. When Luther, after consulting some ancient tomes, had finally figured out what was happening he had called Alexander. There had been rumors that sometimes the young vampire could also be fed by his master's sire, if said sire was a very strong, older vampire himself. Their blood is very similar, not identical, but it should be enough. Luckily, it turned out this rumor was true.

Alexander tried to explain why Master rejected me. He told me about Dermot's best friend Sebastian, who withered away for years after his blood mate Katarina had been killed. I didn't care. I wasn't interested in an explanation. All I knew was, if it weren’t for Luther calling Alexander, Dermot would have let me die a miserable death. Strangely though, I felt more rejected than angry.

***

I was very happy to learn that vampires can go out in bright daylight. There is no burning until you're only a pile of ash. One afternoon Malik and I came home from visiting Murano, glass blower island near Venice, when I heard a voice I'd preferred not to hear again for the rest of my life. Without thinking twice, and totally ignoring Malik's shout, I ran through the living room and pushed the door to Alexander's study open with so much force it reverberated from the wall and I had to catch it so it wouldn't hit me in the face.

"You're back early," was all Alexander said, obviously ready to enjoy the show that was about to enfold.

Seeing Dermot sitting relaxed in Alexander's guest chair, brows raised in a silent question, with amusement clearly in his eyes, I wondered briefly, if Alexander had staged this encounter. The thought vanished rapidly in favor of white-hot anger surging through my body. The next thing I knew, I was standing beside my former master, bunching his shirt in my fist, as I lifted him out of the chair and threw him against the wall, right between the two large bay windows that showed the beautiful view of Rialto Bridge.

Dermot's body crashed into a painting and a delicate, antique table. He was up fast, claws at the ready, growling. There was one small noise behind me I couldn't place, and all of a sudden he retracted his claws and lowered his hands and his head.

"I probably deserved that."

"What?"

For a moment I was stunned. Did he say this to distract me and pacify me before he pounced? Ha! I stalked across the room until our bodies almost touched, and jabbed my clawed finger into his chest. "Fuck off or I'll try all these neat little moves on you that Malik has taught me. Lessons one to ten: How to kill a fellow vampire."

"I'm all for sacrificing some more of the furniture Sky, if that makes you feel better. Over the years, the cleaning staff became quite proficient with bloodstains on the carpets. Still, you might want to listen to what your master has to say first before you try to kill him. It would be the polite thing to do," Alexander remarked dryly from behind his desk.

"He is not my master, never was actually, and I am not the slightest bit interested in anything he could have to say to me."

"I am sorry, Skylar."

I scoffed. "What do you expect me to do now? Clap you on the shoulder, saying 'Okay, no hard feelings.’? Let's forget that I almost went into rigor, that I puked my guts out for weeks, that you threatened to kill me because I wouldn't get better, although you knew perfectly well that I couldn't do that on my own. You knew how to help me, you just didn't want to."

"I came here to talk."

"The only way I am talking to you is with my fists, and my feet, and maybe my fangs when I rip out your throat because, according to Malik, that is an appropriate way to kill a vampire. If it's done right."

"Skylar. We need to talk about this." Alexander's voice had become stern; I could feel his powers reaching out to me and his determination to make me discuss the matter.

But with Dermot as my sire, and only drinking Alexander's blood, I was high up on the vampire food-chain. Being furious also helped to withstand the pull of the vampire lord's mind. Before I could lose that battle, I turned around and headed for the door.

"Sure, go on, talk. I'm going out."

In the doorway I ran into Malik.

"That was a painting of my great-great-grandmother you just threw Dermot into, Sky."

"Sorry Malik, I–"

"'s okay. She was an ugly bitch. Now go back into the room, sit down and talk."

"Fuck you!" I pushed Malik aside and ran out of the house. I couldn't believe they had both sided with him, after what he had done.

Viewed realistically, I knew there was no chance to avoid 'the talk', only to postpone it.

Sure as shit, the next day, Alexander called me into his study.

"Sky, I want you to listen to me, without interruption."

I just nodded, fighting the urge to cross my arms in front of my chest defensively. All of a sudden I became strangely aware that I was sitting on the same chair as my master had, only yesterday.

"First let me state some facts. Dermot made a grave mistake that could have cost you your life. Luckily it didn't. You're alive. My blood will always be only a substitute for what you really need: Dermot's blood. This is why you still feel the occasional nausea, and you will never reach your final strength. Of course you will have to live with Malik and me for the rest of your life, which is fine by us."

I opened my mouth to interrupt him, but when I saw the look on Alexander's face, I shut up.

"Secondly, I can understand that you are furious. If I were your age and if that had happened to me, I would be too. Anyway, I have experienced how anger fades away over time; may it take years, decades or even centuries. What had your blood boiling once, you simply forget, because it doesn't matter anymore. What matters are the people we live with, especially us, because we live for such a long time. When you look back and can't remember why you are angry at someone anymore, just that you are, you should stop. And when you can stop it in ten years, why not stop it now? There is a certain gratification in granting forgiveness, Sky.

"Thirdly, I am Dermot's sire. He is dear to me, like a son. I didn't sire as many vampires as might be expected, because of how old I am. I made sure to only turn humans that were special to me. Only two are still alive: Malik and Dermot. Dermot failed you. He let you suffer for inconsequential reasons, and thereby denied himself and you one of the rarest gifts a vampire can be granted: a blood mate. I made him reconsider."

I jumped to my feet. "I will never accept this blood mate shit! Dermot is a cowardly asshole."

"Clearly it is too early for you to think like me. That is why I'll give you more time, but I insist on you two getting to know each other better. Therefore Dermot will join us in about eight weeks when we go back home. We will live together for six months, this will give you a chance to learn more about one another and what being blood mates means. You two are designed for each other; there is even scientific evidence on this. You can fight for months, years, decades, centuries even, if you live that long, but I am convinced, in the end, you will be as happy as Malik and I. So why waste time? Think about this."

True to his words, two months later we went back to Alexander and Malik's home and Luther and Dermot moved in with us. The house was big enough that we could avoid each other if we wanted to, but Alexander insisted on dining together every night; he stated that we should eat together as a family.

I found that, for the first time since my parents had died, I felt strangely and terribly at home.

***

In the end it was Malik who made me realize what I wanted, what I needed.

'If you didn't know Dermot and you saw him sitting in a café, would you like what you see?'

Of course I would, the man is gorgeous.

'If you had met him at a club, would you consider going home with him or take him to your place?'

Damn.

'If I told you I saw him feeding on another man, how would you feel?'

The thought alone! I would be jealous. The fuck?

'When you hear him laughing in the next room, do you want to know why he's laughing? Do you want to be the reason?'

I hate you right now, I really do.

'When you listen to him talking about his life, his goals, could you imagine being a part of it?'

Strangely, I could.

'If I told you he only feeds when he can't put it off any longer, and that he only feeds on Luther, how would you feel?'

Dermot was pale, much paler than before, and almost gaunt, as if he wasn’t eating enough. I would be relieved, and worried.

'If I were to tell you, I saw you watching him when you thought nobody was looking, what would you say?'

Damn. You are right.

'Do you have to remind yourself why you hate him? Or did you forget, at least sometimes?'

Yes and yes.

Just before the six months were over, Malik took me aside "You need to stop looking at him as this evil being you insist he is. Admit you want him, just like he wants you."

No, I did not. I wouldn't succumb to some mysterious mate-call shit.

I was not ready to admit Alexander's plan was working.

Two weeks later Luther and Dermot left the house.

***

Christmas Eve. Alexander and Malik had gone to sleep. I lay awake in bed when I heard a noise from outside. I crawled out of bed, walked to the window, pushed the shutters open and threw up the sash. The moon let the new-fallen snow glisten and I saw a black limousine gliding up the driveway. It stopped at the front door and a man climbed out.

Dressed in a long black overcoat and black boots, he held dozens of bags in both arms. He lifted his head and his eyes found me watching him. It was Dermot.

***

I am in my favorite place, watching snowflakes twirling in the moonlight. It's so cold outside my breath fogs the windowpane and I can paint stars on it with my fingertip. Behind me the duvet rustles.

"What are you doing?"

"Watching the snow."

"As much as I like the view, Sky, it's too cold to sit like that on the windowsill. Come back to bed, I'll warm you up."

Merry Christmas. Happy Holidays.

Thank you Lisa, Zombie and Jo Ann.
Originally, this story ended before the second to last ***. My muse kicked me in the shins and pointed at the calendar and the title. HOLIDAY STORY!!! I dutifully added some more. After I drove home listening to the sappiest Christmas songs ever, I added another three *** and the last paragraph. If you like it, thank my muse – he will be so pleased – and the local radio station.