Distract my hunger (9 page)

Too tired to even thing of saying goodbye to Clara I just let them lead me into a new corridor that died ay the bottom of a gorgeous marble stairway.

The staircase had a beautiful read carpet going all the way up in the middle and it made a soft curve to the left. The railing was made of intricate iron leaves and flowers, making it look like something out of a decorations magazine. Just by looking at the numerous steps I felt it was going to be an impossible ordeal to go all the way up, luckily just as if reading my thoughts (which he probably did) my sweet boy took me in his arms and went up the stairs.

My face was nested neatly on his shoulder just beside his neck, making me feel almost drunk on his sweet musky smell. Jonathan never set me down on my feet; he continued walking down the corridor until he reached one of the bedrooms and took me in. He then softly left me on a soft silk comforter and turned to leave.

“Please stay,” I said, “I just want to sleep in your arms.” He turned to face me again and without uttering a word he lay down on the bed beside me. With his arm over my shoulder and his chest tightly pressed against my back I finally succumbed to sleep.

CHAPTER 8

The Dream

I
was having the same dream I had before, the same dream I had when the twins recited the poem.

Everything around me was foggy, but I could hear someone calling out. I walked in circles, sometimes I could listen and sometimes I heard nothing. The fog thinned out and slowly I saw a dim female figure.

She was the one calling my name so I went to her. Her arms, outstretched in my direction, were imploring for me to get there. She looked impossibly thin. Her scrawny pale figure seemed anxious yet longing. A huge set of brown eyes took over her long, thin face. Thin lips and a small taut nose stood beneath her impressive stare and enhanced the nervous aura that surrounded her. Her glossy hair, slightly reddish hung loosely around her shoulders making her look slightly sickish. She appeared to be in her early thirties, but she was dressed like out of another time.

A long dark brown skirt covered the whole length of her long legs and a pale, cream-coloured, long-sleeved blouse dressed her upper body. A set of quite witch-like black boots held her firm place and crowned her look of being out of place, out of time.

The imploring figure seemed oddly familiar while I walked towards her but I couldn’t quite point out who she reminded me of. She seemed to be in a hurry without even moving one hair and implored me with her ever stretching arms to get near. When I finally stood at arms reach, she took hold of both of my hands and upon looking at her face I decided she looked very much like the twins.

She said only one phrase in an imploring tone: “I found them, go, look; it’s all in my notebook.” Her voice was soft with barely a high pitch to it, don’t ask me why, but it made me think about her singing; and then she was out of my sight. I could only feel her hands clutching mine after that, because a series of apparently random images blinded me.

I saw a beautiful woman with very long, raven-black hair and deep light-blue eyes holding a man’s hand. She was not skeletal like the lady holding my hands but quite voluptuous. Her perfectly curved figure reminded me of a jaguar just about to sprint. The man at her side was ready for a chase too. He was very well built and tall, with dark burgundy coloured hair and the palest un-freckled face I’ve ever seen. His eyes, almost turquoise in colour, were rimmed with uneasiness. I could see
fear
in both their stares. They were glancing backwards and sideways while they ran. I chased after them, I wanted to know why they were running and who they were, but the image was gone.

I was now again in front of the porch I’d known for so long, I was looking at the house I’d seen so many times before in dreams. The smell of flower blooms was overwhelming and I could hear somebody calling my name, the name I’d given Clara; the name that described me. I walked slowly to the front door and it was gone.

Where I was trying to reach for the now nonexistent doorknob, I saw my outstretched hand just about to hold Jonathan’s. He was bloodied and impossibly handsome. His perfect hair was clotted with blood and stuck to his temples. The perfect lips that kissed my cheeks so tenderly were taut over his white, long canines. He looked like an ancient warrior with a weapon at his side and his other hand trying to clutch mine. I saw desperate longing in his eyes, he was asking something out of me but I couldn’t do anything but stretch my hand. I heard nothing, the world lay silent waiting for the final blow. He looked so beautiful and sad, I could have just run into his arms but I couldn’t move, I could only stretch my hand. Then it all went black.

I was starting to wake up; I would regain my senses in just a second. I could feel as if I was falling, and just before I fell back into my skin I heard Jonathan’s pleading cry
“Please
Iris,
you
must
do
it
now.”
And upon those words I finally woke up.

CHAPTER 9

A New Home

I
woke up feeling the red dusk sun caressing my arm. Jonathan’s body was still pressed against mine as if he had not moved an inch since I fell asleep. The room was lit up in tones of red and orange making everything look surreal and embellishing one of the most beautiful bedrooms I’d ever seen.

The whole room seemed to burst with fragile life. Pink and white orchids grew from an amazingly sapphire plant-pot on the nightstand; they seemed to irradiate colour with twilight reflecting on their petals. I had never seen such unique orchids in my life! Deep pink centres transformed into white, pink spattered petals. They were so perfect that for a second I could nearly believe they were a product of my imagination.

Long lace curtains draped the widows in exquisite fashion, embellishing the dying sun. I turned my eyes one way and the other trying to absorb the beauty of the delicate decorations only to find ever more beautiful things in every corner. The walls were coloured in a light lilac pastel tone, and everywhere I looked blooming flowers seemed to grow.

I closed my eyes and inhaled the pure smell of nature. I could smell rose petals and narcissus in the air; I opened my eyes and discovered that there were flowers absolutely everywhere! Large tinted glass vases adorned every corner of the room, all with either delicate flower bouquets or with fragile blooming plants. Champagne coloured roses filled a large bowl on a small table, their petals trembling ever so slightly with the soft nightfall breeze. I had never seen so many flowers in my life; I was flabbergasted by everything surrounding me.

After what could have been hours of astonished delight I discovered the most special part of the entire place. An antique wood-crafted bureau sat on the far end of the wall. It was possibly the most wonderful piece of furniture I had ever seen: every drawer had a delicate iris carved in the middle and two leaf shaped metal handles hung at its side. The exquisite chest of drawers was made of highly polished and perfectly kept ebony: and it was crowned with a gigantic mirror surrounded by hand-carved flowers. As a finishing touch two deep purple vases full of black irises sat on it and made it just plain gorgeous.

As soon as I saw the bureau I wanted to touch it, to lay my fingertips on every engraving and discover its carved secrets. I had never felt as drawn by any piece of furniture. Being very careful not to wake Jonathan, I slowly made my way out of bed and stood in front of it. Touching every flower I felt as if magic had set them there: forever immortalised in ebony. The contrast between the wooden irises and the fresh black irises was superb, the carvings felt real and the real flowers seemed impossibly perfect. Amidst my awe I let my gaze float to the mirror and for the first time since I became myself I saw my reflection.

A known stranger looked back at me. She had no dark circles under her eyes and looked like something out of this world. My eyes had always been violet but they now blazed under amethyst sparkle. I had been repainted in my own colours and became a more vibrant version of myself. The shiniest raven-black hair hung freely around my face making the sunset-light sparkle in every lock. My once dead-pale lips now seemed fuller and rosy, making me look like a new version of me. I stared in complete disbelief at the subtle and incredible transformation when I saw him looking at me from the mirror.

Jonathan’s face was inexplicable. He stared at me beside my reflection with complete adoration; he seemed to look at me for the very first time. A subtle smile grew on his lips making him look mysterious and enticing. He hugged me from behind and whispered to my ear: “you can now see yourself like I always saw you”. I closed my eyes at his words while he turned me so I would face him.

I opened my eyes and saw the green flecks in his eyes sparkling like I’d never seen before. Soft shadows rimmed his blazing eyes like kohl. His breath caressed the tip of my nose and his sweet smile rose bare inches from mine. My thoughts were wordless: they were filled with utmost feeling and inarticulate passion. He lowered his face and touched my nose with the tip of his kissing my soul with his sweet touch.

Nose to nose we stayed, counting uncountable moments and melting in new realization of what we meant to each other. There, under the fading sunlight, his lips slid on mine kissing me deeply until I stopped feeling my thoughts and lingered onto his.

We became one sole feeling being; his thoughts had no boundaries and intertwined with mine. His fangs pressed against my flesh as I discovered yet again mine. Our lips pulsed like our beating hearts and with no words thawed till they were no more, making me understand he was as much a part of me as I was a part of him.

Seconds ticked and eternities developed while we stayed in our timeless embrace. I could recognise his soul in mine as much as he could find me in his. Our sole existences seemed to have been for this very moment when nothing else mattered.

I could feel his fingertips tangled in my locks and with the sweetest pain we parted from our lips’ embrace to lose our stares in the windows of our soul. We could no longer say a word; no spoken or mental word would do, for we had shared much more with just a kiss. I could feel his energy pulsing through his veins and my lifetime melting into his.

Under nightfall’s light he looked more handsome than ever before. He was my beginning and my end, my love to be forever; I knew I was born to be here today for it made everything else that had happened make any sense. Jonathan was undoubtedly my one and only twin flame.

“Do you like your room?” he said with his sweetest mental voice. “I arranged everything for you, this is your home now and I wanted it to feel like it.” My heart felt overjoyed at his words; he had done all this
just
for
me
. When I knew him before, before everything happened, when I was a mere human (only about two nights ago . . .) I never pictured him to be the fully romantic type. He was always a gentleman, but from being a gentleman to decorating a bedroom I pictured there was a long way.

If you ask me, I’ll tell you that no moment could ever be more perfect. Nothing could be more beautiful than this pristine instant with him. Knowing him like I never did before, the whole importance of his existence just bloomed before my eyes. He ceased being my crush to become my other half.

“I love it.” I said, and nuzzled my nose against his musky neck. I could not say anything more because if not I would simply burst in joyful tears. He said nothing more but smiled, he gave me the sweetest smile I’ve ever seen. His golden-brown eyes seemed to sparkle with delight.

“I think it’s just about time to show you the most special thing about this room. We are lucky because this won’t happen again until next year.” He said and holding me by my waist took me to the window.

He opened the window and the most exquisite aroma flooded the place. Beneath the window was a small, rectangular flowerpot containing a very austere looking plant. It was almost ugly, but it held the most special flowers I could have ever dreamed of. Five huge white flowers bloomed from that sickly looking cactus-like plant, and they had the most unique perfume.

“It is called Nightblooming Cereus” he said and hugged me closer. I closed my eyes and inhaled the flower’s scent, I felt as if I was being transported straight to heaven. The sweet aroma seemed to cradle me in motherly arms and promised to take me to a blissful state of quiescence. I just could not believe that such a wonderful flower existed.

“It has also many other names,” he added while kissing the top of my head, “but of all of them the name
Moon
Flower
is the one I like most. It blooms with the moon and displays its white petals in such a way that it forms a fragile creamy orb. It is truly one of nature’s treasures, and to think it only lives for one night.”

This
Moon
Flower
was the most poetic thing I’d ever seen, beautiful yet so ephemeral. It made me think of the evanescence of life and how the small things mattered. Humanity was as fragile as this delicate flower and that was the simple beauty of it. For the first time I reflected on how transient human life was and how much I still loved the human in me: after feeling
the
hunger
take hold of me some hours ago, I decided I would strive to hold on to my human side, no matter the cost.

Jonathan caressed my hair and with an avid move passed over my neck a simple silk cord. On it I could see that there was some kind of a pendant. Once he fastened it round my neck I touched it with my fingertips. It was smooth, but I could not guess what it was. “Take a look in the mirror,” he said shoving me softly and then thoughtfully added, “I believe it is just perfect for you.”

I turned on my bare feet and skidded to the huge flower-rimmed mirror and looked at my new necklace. It was a small platinum black iris. Perfectly made in every way, its tiny petals were embellished with onyx and its centre had the tiniest black pearl: a perfect beauty of a jewel. This delicate piece hung softly from a black silk cord that hugged tightly my white neck. It looked like an antique and I could guess that it was one of a kind.

“I don’t know what to say,” I stuttered, clutching the ornament with my hand. I was flabbergasted with my presents. The room was amazing, the flowers transported me straight to heaven, and this matchless jewel was much more than I ever imagined. I was out of words, and didn’t know how to accept such a gift. I felt compelled not to accept it, and was thinking of how to tell him that it was too much when he answered even before I articulated my thoughts.

“I cannot take it back, you know? My mother brought it home after a trip and said that this pendant and a small black notebook belonged to a vampire that was yet to be born. She urged us to keep it, for she knew she was bound to have a shorter lifespan. We thought she was being a bit odd with the whole thing, how would we even know who to give it to? It sounded a little crazy, but she assured us that when we met the amethyst-eyed vampire we would know. I completely forgot about it until I met you, and I’ve been waiting for this moment ever since.” He said and pleaded with his eyes for me not to take off the necklace.

“I dreamt with a woman, she urged me to get
the
notebook
, I believe she might have been your mother.” I said and saw his eyes sparkle with curiosity.

“I should give you the book then.” He said through his wide grin, “It’s time for someone to read it, since no eyes have set upon its pages for many decades. We never thought it was our place to read it, so we waited for its owner.”

The fine line between dreams and reality was getting smudged and everything seemed possible. Even
I
being someone out of a prophecy seemed to be a possibility, no matter how farfetched it sounded.

He took me in his arms and hugged me tight. I’m sure he knew how much I had to take in and was trying his best to help me deal with it. With my cheek on his chest I felt safe, yet I knew some ominous future was slowly uncoiling.

“First, I’ll show you the house.” He said impishly, like a schoolboy who hides a treasure and taking my hand into his made me follow him out of the room.

I remembered the corridor from before; it was long and filled with expensive looking paintings. Colour seemed to ooze from the frames, and I was sure that I had seen some of the images before in some art-book at school. Our footsteps were shushed by the thick carpet that covered the floor. Complete silence clung to the walls.

Four other doors opened, two to each side of the long corridor. Each massive wooden door had a name carved on it; I looked back and discovered that mine had one too: intricate cursive letters spelled
Iris
. How could they have known that I was going to call myself that? Many mysteries certainly surrounded these vamps.

The door to the left of my room said “Ginny” and the one in front said “Twins” with a beautiful Hecate-Moon carved beside it. We continued walking up the corridor and got to the room that lay to the other side of Ginny’s. This one said “Master Bedroom” in distinctly bolder handwriting. I could feel James roaming in that room and knew it was undoubtedly his. Finally we got to the one opposite to that one, without even reading the name I knew it was Jonathan’s.

The door seemed to transmit Jonathan’s vibe, it was as if his wavelength had stuck to it and it pulsed, alive with his owner. “This is your room” I said to him mentally, and he answered with a smile and a simple nod.

I couldn’t help but wonder where Corbin’s room was, for it was the only one not here. We didn’t stop to see any room from the inside and continued down the stairs.

The house was a complex maze of rooms and corridors succeeding each other incessantly. The only kitchen was the pseudo-kitchen where I met Clara, and that was the only completely odd thing about the luxurious estate. Besides that, it was home. A huge, lavish new residence, but it felt exactly like home.

Endless tapestries and oil-paintings decorated the walls, and tiny tables with flower vases seemed to be in every corner. Different kinds of rugs dressed the floors, always matching the room’s mood accordingly. You could find from the most intricate Persian Rug to the simplest modern one, yet none were ever out of place.