The Vampire Pirate's Daughter (8 page)

“
Will I come visit me again?”

I feel my heart trip over itself. Heart? It
is a weird indescribable feeling and I know love does not make
hearts speed up and palpitate. I do not even have a beating heart,
yet, in my chest, I feel the oddest sensation.

I smile down at him and I feel as if I
could fall into the bottomless depths of his dark, brown eyes.
“I’ll come again tonight.”

The Van Heerdens come walking into the room,
and like a mother hen, Mrs. Van Heerden waddles toward his bed. I
move aside away from Andrew, letting my fingers slide out of his
and he follows me with his eyes.

Carmine rushes toward me. “Oh, Susie.” She
starts crying, the tears flowing freely down her cheeks. She slumps
against me and her arms come up around my shoulders. The small
wound is close to my cheek and although there is no more blood, the
smell lingered on her skin.

Suddenly I can feel her pulse rush through
her body. I can feel her heart hammering against me and I fight the
feeling of tunnel vision.

Just one small bite the monster tells me.
Just a lick, a tiny, weenie suckle.

I push away from Carmine abruptly.
Apologetically I say, “I am sorry Carmine but I have to go. I am in
a hurry. I will phone you later. I promise.”

I walk out of the hospital hurriedly, almost
running. When I am out of the hospital, I start to walk faster and
if there were someone looking at me directly they would have
thought they had seen a magic trick or a miracle, because I move
away from the hospital too fast for any human eye to observe.

I slam the front door closed behind me
moments later when I walk through it and I walk straight toward the
kitchen and then the freezer. I pull the popsicle from its plastic
wrapping irritated. I do not know why they have to be wrapped
individually. I want to snap at Amanda when she walks into the
room.

The look of worry on her face stops me
though, and I pop the icy meat stick into my mouth. I take a few,
because only one will not do for the moment.

My body is going to cramp and spasm from now
until when we go out to hunt. The only, only thing I would be able
to think about is blood.

*

I wait impatiently for Ethan. Shayne
insists we wait for him and I am starting to feel extra-ordinarily
agitated. By the time
the doorbell rings and I open the door, I growl at
him.

He greets me, smiling amused, “Good Evening,
sweet Susanna.”

I push past him and out the door, with
annoyance I call, “Can we just go now.”

Angrily I growl again and walk in circles.
The need and want in me is so great, it burns like peat in the pit
of my stomach. The pain is enormous. Never before have I had to
wait to hunt. I long for the days when you could run into rural
Europe and have your pick of clean, fresh blood. All I can think
about is blood, blood, blood.

Ethan comes toward me and takes me gently by
the elbow. “Come with me. We will leave in my car. We do not always
have to hunt in a pack, do we?”

I nod my head, yes, eagerly. I cannot
remember a single time that I have gone without Amanda or Shayne.
Although I am over two hundred years old, they still treat me like
a child they need to protect. Shayne is waiting for midnight,
because he is a stickler for ritual. After spending the last few
days surrounded by the smell of blood, I need to go –
desperately.

Ethan leads me toward his car and he opens
the passenger door for me. I get into the car and settle into the
plush seats. Irritated I watch him walk around the car. Amanda is
standing by the front door and she is frowning worriedly. Lifting
my hand and waving, I manage to smile reassuringly.

Ethan starts his car and backs out of the
driveway. We drive out of the security estate and then he turns
south. I watch the houses and trees flash by and the night is black
and dark without a moon. Everything looks ghost-like. We drive away
from the city and later Ethan turns off the highway and onto a
rural road. We do not speak and I doubt I would be able to hold
down a logical conversation. I do relax a little, because I know
not long from now I can feed my needy monster.

I can see across the country, the flat
nothingness toward the lights of the city on the horizon. A moment
later Ethan turns into a neglected driveway and we bounce over the
potholes. He drives to the dilapidated farmhouse and stops in front
of the front door.

I look at him puzzled
, but not caring. I just want to get in
there and I want to drink. I open my door and get out of the car at
the same time as Ethan. He walks toward me in front of the car and
smiling, he softly takes my arm.

We walk in through the front door, which
is weird. A dim thought at the back of my mind warns me that
something is not right, but it is hazy. The only thing on my mind
in vibrant, lumo colors is my need to feed. He leads me toward the
basement and we walk down the stairs silently. When we are down in
the basement, Ethan’s hand around my arm suddenly tightens and with
a snarl, he shoves me forward. This is unexpected and I stumble
ahead.

As I turn back toward him, the question on my
lips, I hear him slam the heavy metal door closed between us and I
hear a bolt slide into a lock.

Bewildered I look around me and wonder what
on earth is happening. What is Ethan doing? I bang on the door
frantically, screaming his name.

He does not reply and I hear him running
back up the stairs. After what feels like eternity, I turn away
from the door and walk into the room. It is unfurnished, so I sink
down onto the floor in the back corner of the dark room. My stomach
aches and I fold my arms over it tightly. I trusted Ethan
impeccably, and because my hunger was so overwhelming, I could not
think of anything else. Briefly, I consider that I have known him
for so long, who could have foreseen this. I cannot even wonder why
he is doing this to me, because I feel my body start to shake. It
is not a shiver or a tremble, but an internal quiver.

I hear him coming down the stairs and I
stand up hurriedly. I rush to the door.

He yells from the other side, “Step back,
Susanna. I am serious!”

He is much older than I am and thus much
stronger, but I am sure I could overwhelm him. I sense him waiting
at the door listening for any sounds from inside of the room and
then he slides open a little hatch in the door. He pushes a tray
through the hatch slowly and I notice a glass balanced on the tray.
It is a Bloody Vladimir - our interpretation of a Bloody
Mary.

I move toward it, the smell of the blood in
the drink is pungent. I lift the glass toward my mouth and I feel
the glass clink against my incisors. I swallow fast and
eagerly.

I put the empty glass back onto the tray and
after he pulls the tray back through the hatch, he closes it.

I ask desperately, “Ethan, what games are you
playing?”

“
You and your happy little family are
working on my nerves.” I shake my head disbelievingly, while he
continues, “I want what Shayne has and even if I have to kill you
one by one, I will get it.”

Flabbergasted I struggle to stifle an
absurd laugh. “Shayne and Amanda will look for me and you know they
will find me.” I scream, “They will kill you!”

He laughs sadistically. “I am ready and they
will not live to tell the tale. You have treated me with disdain
long enough, as if I am beneath your standing. I will now show you
who the better of the two of us are and I am sick of my community
looking down upon me.”

I hear him walk away.

There are no windows in the dark, dank room
and I calculate the day by the amount of times a glass of blood is
shoved through the hatch in the door – breakfast, lunch and
supper.

I cannot be sure, but I imagine that it has
been a week and I can hear a commotion coming from upstairs. I hear
furniture scraping across the floor. Suddenly a thud reverberates
through the house and then everything is silent again. I wonder if
it is only my mind playing tricks with me and there really was no
noise after all. Still I wait in nervous anticipation, because it
could have been Shayne and Amanda coming to my rescue. Later,
though, I hear the hatch open and a glass with the crimson liquid
is pushed through it.

I ask desperately, “Ethan, please. I’ll give
you anything. Just tell me what is going on. Please let me go.”

I hear a gruff voice, a voice I do not
recognize. “Ethan is not here.”

“Where is he?”

“Gone.”

“Who are you?”

He replies hesitantly, “Juan.”

I plead, “Juan, please let me go, I promise I
will give you anything you want. I have money.”

“I do not need money.” I hear a faint French
accent.

“
Are you French?” I ask hopeful. “I am
French too, I have an old château. It is in disrepair now but I
will sign it over to you, if you let me go.” I whisper softly, but
I know he can hear me, “Please.”

I sense him hesitate, but then he turns away
from the door and the hatch falls into place loudly.

Despondently I wonder why Shayne and Amanda
have not come to fetch me yet. Perhaps they have contacted friends
and are planning on the best action to take. Maybe they cannot find
me. I behaved like a spoilt brat the day before Ethan kidnapped me
and maybe now they are happy to be rid of me.

I sit down in the corner across from the
door. I sink my head onto my arms folded across my pulled up knees
and I close my eyes miserably.

It could have been days, it could have been
weeks.

I hear a grating noise from upstairs and I
feel the earth shake violently under me. The dust from the basement
roof sifts down onto me in a thick white cloud and covers
everything in an ashen color.

I hear screaming, growling and shoveling
above me and then I hear someone fumble with the latch outside my
door. Moments later, to my astonishment, I see Andrew fall through
the doorway and into the room.

Unbelieving, I scream aggravated, “How?”
“Why?” I ask accusingly. Loudly, I realize, “Are you part of
this?”

He chokes in the dust, which is hanging heavy
in the room and shakes his head no, while gagging, gasping for
air.

“
Then what are you doing here?” I would
rather stay here in this basement forever; perhaps convince Juan to
bring me some books to read, than have Andrew here. In a while, he
will realize who I am. He will then be one hundred percent
convinced that I am the monster he sees flashes of after the
accident. I suddenly remember, “Why aren’t you still in
hospital?”

He struggles to breathe while he pulls at
my arm. “You have been here a long time, but now we have to get out
of here. This whole place is going to collapse.”

I pull back determinedly.

“
Jeez, Susie! Just come with me. It’s okay,
I know who you are.”

I pull my arm out of his grip, shocked. I
hear Amanda calling from upstairs and I look at him confused.

Something in his face convinces me, so I
follow him up the stairs, running as fast as he is ahead of me
toward the sound of Amanda’s voice.

I am halfway up the stairs when I feel the
heat. It is unimaginable hot. I feel my skin blister. I step
backwards down the stairs again and I shake my head in denial.

Andrew turns around and looks back at me
pleadingly. “Susie!”

“I can’t go out there!”

“Why not?” He yells over the noise of the
creaking house above us.

I shake my head from side to side. “No! I
cannot go up there.”

He comes down the stairs again and I see his
eyes, pleading into mine.

“You said you know! Well, I cannot go out in
the sun. Do you know or do you not know the truth?”

Realization dawns in his eyes and sadly, I
grasp that he does know the awful certainty of me.

Just then, the house above us collapse.
Splinters and bricks fall down around us and without thinking I
pull Andrew down the stairs behind me. We run as fast as his legs
can carry him. I want to physically pick him up, but even here I
feel that maybe he does not really know the entire truth. If I
picked him up now, as if he was a mere feather, he would never be
able to love me. Forever I would wonder how it could have been and
forever is a very long, long time.

We run back into the basement and
automatically I pull the open door from its hinges. I briefly
notice the shock in Andrew’s eyes. I push him roughly toward the
corner and then while we are both crouching down I hold the heavy
metal door up and over our heads. We hear the house collapse piece
by piece and then suddenly with a loud, ear-piercing crash it all
comes down at once. I growl softly as the full impact hits me on
the back and I have to strain my arms to keep the door above our
heads.

We sit like this for a while, as small
pebbles, gravel and sand continue to fall down onto us. I move my
arm painfully and notice that one of the boulders of cement had
wedged itself in under the door. The other side of the door was
balanced against the wall of the basement and on top of this large
irregular lump of bricks and mortar. I let my hands go tentatively,
one after the other. I am ready to wedge it back up if it does not
hold. I sigh with relieve when it holds and I sit down onto the
ground. My haunches feel lame and I want to rest my arms for a
moment. Awkwardly I sit close to Andrew and then he slides his legs
out from under him. He manages to slide his legs around me and in
some bizarre act of fate I am sitting here with Andrew, in such
close proximity I can hear his heartbeat.