Adamant Spirits, page 3
As if on cue, she turned, lifting her hand to make some dramatic point in a story.
He slid through the shadows, twisted the trailer door open, and slipped inside. The door clicked shut.
The shrieks and shouts faded behind him in the sterile silence. One thing Second Life Hope had always excelled at was keeping a clean workspace: sleek fridges filled with fresh donations, slim laptops stacked in a bin, and cabinets filled with needles, tubes, bottles, and medical supplies. The pale grey walls merged with the charcoal tile floor, perfect calm and silence. He relished it, resisting the urge to tear open the fridge and gorge himself. Focus was essential. It wasn’t just about this night. It was about many nights. A future. His life.
He set his metal cooler on the table in the back room and unfastened the lid. He’d done this so many times he knew precisely how long this would take: six minutes and thirteen seconds. The lid clicked open, and he began making his selection. Typically in an endeavor like this, he preferred taking the blood after it had been screened, processed, and packaged as that was the safest route. Provided one didn’t prefer it wild or raw, which did taste better. For now, he just needed what he could get. He’d conduct his own tests when he returned home. Desperation dulled the swiftness of his movements.
Suddenly, the air shifted and sounds intensified. He paused, his hand still on the fridge door.
“Aestan...what are you doing here?” The sickly fluorescent light flicked on.
No. He closed his eyes. Every muscle in his body tightened, and his fangs threatened to elongate. He barely controlled it as his jaw ached at the increased pressure.
“I thought I saw you come in here. What are you doing? Are you looking for something?” she continued.
He turned. “I was here earlier and left something behind. I was just checking to see if it was here.”
“In the fridge?” Her forehead crinkled. She stood in the doorway, the black and orange candy bowl in one hand, the other on the light switch.
“It was a...biological sample for one of my newest projects.” Lying was a skill one tended to lose when one didn’t interact with others often. He let the door slide shut.
She was less than twenty feet away. In a single bound, he could snatch her up, tear out her throat, and close the door without her ever making a sound. But she would leave a mess and a panic.
She pulled the door shut and walked farther in, her frown intensifying. She set the bowl aside as she approached the cooler and peered inside. He hadn’t gotten far, but several vials sat within. No possible way to deny this. Again he noted how easy it would be to kill her. Most others in his situation would have done so at once. He could strangle her with her own scarf or smother her with that ridiculous hat. But murders required great care to avoid unnecessary suspicion, and right now, he couldn’t. Not with his head spinning from hunger. Not yet anyway. Maybe he could talk his way out of this.
She looked up at him slowly, her dark eyes wide. “Aestan, are you a vampire?”
His eyebrows lifted. Well, that had escalated quickly. Most people would have assumed he was selling the blood on the black market or some other nefarious scheme. She was sharp. Intuitive.
Aestan sighed. He leaned his hands on the table and steadied himself. Why couldn’t someone he disliked have discovered him? There were so many who fit that criteria. The man three houses down with the boxer who never stopped barking for one. The newspaper girl who never got the newspaper anywhere near his porch. The librarian who gave him dirty looks when he complained about damage to novels and asked that she do something about the book vandals. “Yes, Summer. I’m a vampire.”
It wasn’t entirely accurate, but it was close enough. He avoided looking at her. Now what?
Her breath quickened. Her cherry blossom perfume no longer masked the acrid scent of fear wafting from her. “Well, you can’t steal blood from here. Not only are you going to get caught, but...” She stepped back and crossed her arms. “We’ll just have to find another way. That’s all there is to it.”
“Find another way?” How ridiculously naive. “Don’t you think if there was another way I would have taken it? What do you suggest? Rat blood? Pig blood? Sheep blood? Perhaps some cow blood? There’s no substitute for human blood, and yes, that’s what I need. I need it to supplement my diet. Or else...”
“You’ll die if you don’t.” She covered her mouth, her brow knitting.
“As you can see, it’s a predicament easily resolved with this.” He placed his hand on the cooler. For a moment, he considered mentioning how he would just modify the reports to disguise the loss but decided against revealing any more of his techniques or strategies.
“I can’t let you do that. There’s been a huge shortage, and this blood is headed to a children’s hospital after processing.”
No. Summer don’t do this, he thought. Survival wasn’t a question. It was a reality. He’d done terrible things before to survive. He’d do it again if necessary. Survival trumped morality. But... “Just look the other way, Summer,” he said softly. “This is how it has to be.”
“No.” She removed the mutant parrot and hat, crossed over to the cabinet, and withdrew a rubber strip, a glass bottle, some tubes, and alcohol swabs. “How much do you...” She glanced at him tentatively, her face shrouded with concern. “How often do you feed? And how much at a time?”
“Once every few days.” If he actually drained a golem, he could go for two months without refreshment so long as he supplemented with other foods and nutrients. But...that didn’t seem like an appropriate thing to mention. His last meal had been a car crash victim outside of Osage sixty-two days twelve hours ago. “A couple ounces each time.” That wasn’t even a comfortable quantity, but if he wanted to convince her that he didn’t need much, it was best to underestimate. He could always get more when she wasn’t around. “Barely anything.”
She pulled out one of the folding chairs and sat down. She tied the strap around her arm. Her hand shook. “Well, that’s good.”
“What are you doing?” He frowned, stepping closer.
“I can’t let you have this blood, but I can let you have some of mine.” Her smile wavered as if she realized she had repeated herself. Summer shrugged. “And then you know...we can start looking for substitutes.”
He frowned. Surely he had heard wrong. “What?”
“Could you pour me some orange juice? It’s in the third fridge over. They say you’re not supposed to donate twice in one day. But you know, they have to do this sort of thing in emergency situations all the time.”
“Summer...I can’t take your blood.”
“Yes, you can. And if I were a stranger, you would. But we’re friends.”
“Friends?” He couldn’t suppress the sharp laugh. She had an oddly vague definition of friendship. Surely this was a joke.
She finished the prep and took a deep breath. “Yes, of course we are. Now...don’t attack me or anything, okay?” She stuck the needle into her arm and balled her hand up before flexing her fingers and clenching again. “I can’t let you have the blood we collected for the drive, but I can let you have some of mine. And then you know...we can start looking for some substitutes.”
Words failed him as he watched. A tantalizing scent rose from the glass, thick, slightly metallic. How could she be serious? Was he dreaming?
He slowly poured her a glass of orange juice. What was her motivation? Why would she do this? When she finished and passed him the now warm container, he had no more answers than when she started.
“Thanks.” She scooped up the juice and took a deep gulp before resting her forehead against the cold glass. “You should get going. The race is almost over. I’ll see you in a couple days or so, but if you need more before then, let me know.”
“You can’t keep giving—“
“I’ve done my research. I know what I can and can’t do, all right? And what I can’t do is let you steal blood or kill anyone.”
He stared down at the container. Turmoil roiled within him. His mouth watered at the thought of such refreshment and yet he was repulsed. This was stranger than his botched attempt at buying blood off Craigslist. “Why?”
“Obviously you’re not that bad if you’re trying to avoid killing people, and...well, what’s the best way to promote goodness if not to do it when you can? This is something I can do, so I will.” Summer pointed to the door, managing a weak smile. “Now get out of here. I’ll see you later.”
The small clicking alarm of his watch signaled the arrival of the midnight hour and the time for him to depart. He nodded. “Very well. I’ll see you soon.”
October 31, 2016
A knock sounded on the crimson door. Aestan checked his pace, not wanting to appear too eager. It had been a bad idea getting attached to a golem to begin with, but that didn’t mean he had to abandon all dignity.
Pausing at the archway, he drew in a deep breath. Another moment to collect himself. Then stepping forward, he pulled the door open. “Summer...”
She leaned against the door frame, her fingers half-looped, half-sliding against the broad turquoise belt. Had she lost more weight since the last time she’d visited? Her collarbone protruded more, and a heaviness hung over her. “Trick or treat.” She tapped her fingers to her head. “I’m an undercover pop star this year disguised as an ordinary telecommuter.” Stepping forward, she wrapped her arm around his neck to hug him. “You doing all right?”
“Of course. Come in.” He stepped back. As soon as she moved away, he missed the warmth of her body. He closed the door behind them. “I got you some Reese cups.”
She waved her hand, smiling. “Thanks, but I’ll pass. Juice is good though.”
Why would she pass up Reese’s? They were her favorite. He followed her into the high-ceilinged living room and kitchen. Broad bladed fans swept the air around, and regularly dispersed air fresheners kept everything smelling vanilla pleasant. The necessary instruments sat out on the hand-carved hickory table, and a pitcher of fresh-squeezed orange juice mixed with coconut water was on the back of the jade and blue marble island.
She sat on the ladderback chair and set her bag down. “All right.” She released a long sigh and rolled up her sleeve. She’d done this so many times she didn’t hesitate. Hatched and mottled scarring had formed at various points along her arms from all the drawings, and her movements were slower.
A dull shame rose in him. He hated this dependency, but that shame drove him forward to find an alternative. Perhaps his newest batch of synthblood would offer success.
She clenched and unclenched her fist around the tension ball, filling the jar. She drew a deep breath through her nose and released it through her mouth.
“Why aren’t you eating Reese’s anymore?” He sat beside her, but he avoided looking at the stream of thick red liquid flowing from her arm. The scent no longer whetted his appetite. He didn’t like to think of her doing this. Not anymore.
“Just don’t like them.” She closed her eyes.
He frowned. Had she given up Reese’s because of something she’d read about blood production and the body’s healing? True, processed sugar and refined carbohydrates weren’t the best choice for anyone. But it didn’t feel right for her to deny herself if only to help him, but it was her choice. He’d mentioned to her before that she didn’t have to alter her habits, but she had resisted the suggestion.
At the start, they’d both tried to make meaningless small talk during the drawings. But now...well, the silence was comfortable. So they either said nothing or spoke of things that mattered. Today was a day for no talk.
He drifted into his own thoughts, trying not to look at her or notice the gentle curves of her body. She was already giving him blood. She likely thought it was sufficient.
But no. It wasn’t. He wouldn’t ask for more though. She’d given enough.
At last, she finished filling the bottle. He poured her a glass of orange juice. “You have no idea how much I appreciate this.”
“Here’s to you staying clean.” She lifted a glass and took a long sip.
He nodded and placed the bottle of blood in the fridge. He didn’t like to consume it in front of her, and she didn’t want to see that anyway. Besides with this regular schedule, the gnawing hunger and parching thirst was kept at bay. It wasn’t hard to wait, and he had successfully stretched back the needed time between blood feedings. “You don’t have to leave right away, do you?”
“Nope. I’m my own boss now. Remember? One of the benefits of dropping college.” She stood slowly, balancing herself against the table.
He stepped forward, ready to catch her. A few times she’d almost fainted. He liked holding her but her collapsing like that worried him. “Yes, well, don’t rush this. I think you might need to slow down on the donations though, and you might want to see a doctor. I think you have some medical issues developing.”
“Oh, come on. I’m fine. There’s no way I’m going to the hospital. Now we’re going to miss the movie. It started ten minutes ago.” She shuffled across the marble floor to the overstuffed blue velvet couch and crawled over the back. Picking up the remote, she turned the TV on.
As the cool blue light bathed the room, he watched her. She rested her head on the arm of the couch, her legs tucked beneath her. So beautiful.
He swallowed the knot forming in his throat. In light of centuries, one year wasn’t much, but...he couldn’t deny the transformation blossoming within him and the emotions even now surging. Their friendship had been an odd disturbance in the beginning. But ever since she’d learned what he was, she’d poured herself out...literally. It showed. And it couldn’t continue.
He removed a sandwich from the fridge and took it to her. “Summer, I appreciate everything you’ve done, but I can’t keep taking your blood. I don’t know how much longer you can keep this up. And I’d rather risk prison or...” He stopped short of mentioning other methods for gaining blood. They’d argued about this enough. “I’d rather risk just about anything other than you.”
She shook her head as she picked up the black ham and gouda sandwich. “I’m fine. And you’d hate yourself and everyone else if you started hunting us golems again.” She rolled her eyes as she said the word “golems.”
“Summer, I am what I am. This is going to kill you eventually or at least make you sick. The substitutes aren’t working completely, and, so long as I am cautious, what harm does it do? It’s certainly less cruel than eating meat.”
Summer stopped in mid-bite. “What?”
“You say I shouldn’t drink other people’s blood because it is either theft or murder. But consider the fear an animal feels when taken to the slaughterhouse or its final pains in death. This is part of life. The ever-rolling sphere to which we are forever bound. None of us can escape it, and while we may minimize the harm, we cannot avoid it. You shouldn’t be ashamed of what you eat any more than I. We should just accept what we are. If you can eat meat, I should be able to drink blood that isn’t necessarily given to me.”
She slid the sandwich away and crossed her arms. “Then I’m giving up meat.”
“Summer.” He clapped his hand to his face. “You don’t have to—“
“I’m sure there’s better nuanced answers out there and all, but I can’t think of any right now. You’ve gone a year without attacking anyone or stealing anything.” She sat up on the couch. “I don’t have to have meat or animal products. You don’t have to have anyone else’s blood. We’ll find substitutes for both of us. There’s got to be a way to do this ethically.”
“I’m not going to let you do that.” He thrust the sandwich back into her hands. “Now eat.”
“No. Not until I have a better answer for you. I know it’s wrong to drink unwilling people just like it’s wrong to steal blood intended for others, so...” Her voice trailed off. She pushed the sandwich back against his chest. “Just let it go. I’m fine. You’re fine. We’ll find a way to make this work. Vitamins. I think that’s what we should try with you next. I’ll work on mine too.”
“Eat the damn sandwich, Summer.”
“Did you just curse the sandwich?” She crinkled her face at him. “Well, now I’m definitely not going to eat it.”
“Summer, I’m serious.”
“Why? What difference does it make? I’ve been thinking about going vegan for a long time now.”
“You’re getting weaker. I can see that! This is taking a toll on you. Look at what you’ve given—“
“That’s my choice.” She wrapped the blanket around her shoulders and turned her gaze back to the screen. “Friends help friends. If you needed a kidney, I’d give you a kidney.”
“But you have to take care of yourself.” Aestan sat down beside her. He slid the sandwich back on the table, his guilt merging with an odd admiration and frustration. “Please...”
She let her head rest on the large cushion. “I’m not not taking care of myself, Aestan. I just...I want to make sure every part of my life counts. That I’m in some way always building, not destroying. And look at it this way...if we were to find a total substitute, then the other vampires could use it too. This will motivate us both. Maybe we can end meat eating too. We can change the world. We are literally saving lives. Now I don’t know how to make synthblood, but you’re going to eventually figure it out. I can help you do that.”
Not that the other vampires would change. He had always done well to restrain himself as much as possible, but others...they reveled in the flavor, texture, consistency, and magic of blood consumption. “So you’re not even going to eat fried chicken on your birthday? No chicken bacon alfredo pizza?”
