The Den

Chapter Fourteen


Blood

Lucy unhitched the cellar doors that led from the alleyway into the depths of Steve's Place. She slinked down into the kitchen, a glimpse of sunlight sneaking in behind her. Mara had walked in just minutes earlier and joined Peter at the stainless steel breakfast island that moonlighted as the food-prep area for the chefs. As a general rule, all inhabitants of the den besides James, who slept during daylight hours, congregated for a daybreak breakfast. Mara and Peter were leaning in close over the spread, but the whispers ceased when Lucy reached them.

Lucy grabbed a piece of ham and put it on a biscuit. She ate it while her eyes darted back and forth between Mara and Peter. Lucy would not waver when it came to her twin. The others called her unreasonable. Peter had complained in his thoughts that she couldn't be persuaded to see the situation from other angles. She sat straight-backed and tight-lipped, daring them to speak out.

Mara took the bait. She was young, after all. "You know, he didn't even come home for my eighteenth birthday. He knows that is the most special day. He could have been here. He should have been here."

Mara's eyes welled up. She was about to cry, but Lucy stopped her in her tracks.

"Really? He should have been here? Why is that, Mara? Just because Steve promises something doesn't mean it is going to happen. Alex is a free soul. He needs time. I believe he will come back to us for good, but don't think he is yours. He hasn't decided."

Mara gathered her courage. "He has been mine since the start. He waited for me. Why would he leave just months before it was about to be my special time?"

Peter put his hand on Lucy's back to quiet her down. Everyone knew she had a point. An eighteenth birthday is the big day. It is the ceremony they had all worked toward, especially Mara. She had been so young when she arrived. She had worked for a long time to earn her rightful place with them. Steve had to promise her many things to keep her on track, and the others went along with whatever Steve said. Alex didn't make any of his own promises, but he definitely didn't dispute any of Steve's. It was pretty clear-they were meant to be together.

Steve should be returning tonight. He would straighten everything out. Peter heard Lucy's accusing thoughts, and he couldn't help answering out loud on James' behalf.

Peter wanted the words to be clear and loud. "You are so brave when James isn't around! Well, James made it clear to me. We have spoken at length about this. Steve gave Alex the chance. Alex had begged to be allowed to go away from the den. He swore he could retrieve Skyla during his break. Alex had been following her around for months and couldn't bring himself to obey Steve. He was enjoying his new freedom. When Steve realized Alex had not even made contact with Skyla in six months, he knew something had to be done. Steve had to tend to the plantation, so he released James to persuade Skyla in his own way. James had to leave us unprotected, at the den, to get her himself. If Alex had not spotted James, he would never have stepped up. All of a sudden, Alex found his courage. Alex knew that if he did not deliver Skyla to the den, he could never return to us. It is a good thing Alex did bring her home, because Skyla has a strong reaction to James. She has a strong will. It didn't help that she saw a psychic shortly before James' visit. She doesn't remember that she belongs here, and she was on the lookout for someone causing her harm. There was almost a scene. However, it got things in motion. So, really, James is the one who eventually got her here, indirectly." It was rare for Peter to speak up like this, but Mara's incessant whining and Lucy's judgments were getting on his nerves. "I was stuck in the bar all night. Mara? I assume you brought me something?"

Mara beamed. She was one of them now. Being 18 was quite wonderful, she thought. "Yes. I know you will like her," Mara said. "She is sitting on your bed. All ready to go. Try not to wake up James."

Peter popped up from the table and pushed through the kitchen doors into the den. On the far bed sat a beautiful girl dressed in a white tank top and white skirt. Her light brown hair had a bit of a wave, and it was stuck to the side of her face with tears. She was confused. Some laughed and others cried when they were given the drug. It always broke Peter's heart when they cried. He walked past James, who was sleeping on his cot. Peter moved in slowly so as not to scare her any further.

"Oh, baby, don't cry," he whispered as he wiped the tears away with his sleeve. He would be very gentle with her. She was sweet. "How old are you, baby?"

The girl just looked around the room. She didn't see him.

"Are you 18?" He waited, but there was no response. He tried again, "Nineteen?"

She turned her head toward Peter's voice and nodded. Her eyes were fully dilated. She looked around the room and tried to focus on Peter, but it was no use. He took her head gently in his hands and looked into her big brown eyes. She steadied herself and gave a small smile.

"That's right, baby." Peter always waited for the recognition. He always waited until they saw him. It wouldn't be right otherwise. He leaned in and kissed her on the cheek. He turned her head gently to the right. He kissed her on the neck, too. He felt her soft skin and the pulsing of the blood through her veins. Mmmm, she was very sweet indeed. He tasted the salty tears with his sharp tongue. He kissed her neck again, and she let out a blood-curdling scream. Peter felt the flesh bulge around his fangs and sucked harder and faster. Her screaming made his tongue tingle. He could feel the blood fight its way through the wound faster as her heartbeat sped up.

Oh, this one is wonderful!

Peter prayed for the strength to stop. He slowed his tongue and the lapping. He slowly pulled out his fangs one at a time and held his thumb over the wound. Peter looked her in the eye. She looked scared. He couldn't bear it.

"Oh, no. Sorry, baby." He kissed her gently on the lips, leaving them red with her own blood. She was slightly cold. Her breathing came in short hisses. Maybe he'd drunk too much. He liked to prolong it as much as possible, but she was so tasty. How could he resist?

Peter prayed for patience. "Oh, Lord, help me."

He took a slow breath, and he grew calmer. He wiped the single tear out of her eye with his free thumb. Then he ran it along her lips and down her chin, smearing the blood that had been left from his kiss. He ran his hand straight down, passing between her tiny breasts and on to her stomach. He rested it there and turned his fingers downward. He would please her. She would like that. He slid his hand down more so that just the fingertips touched her tender part. Maybe he should lift her white skirt. He pushed it up and moved his fingers back down. He felt her shift. Oh, she must like this. It made him too excited, though. He could feel the warm blood on the thumb that plugged his fang marks. He couldn't bear it. He turned his lips back to the neck and finished it off. He sucked as hard as he could. He kept his hand down below for her, but he couldn't focus. He could only feel the bubbling blood running over his lapping tongue and down his throat. He swallowed fast. He couldn't help it. The flow slowed down. Her heart began skipping beats. He moved his hand up from between her legs and onto her chest. Yes. He could barely feel the heartbeat now. He stopped swallowing and looked her in the eye, but she was someplace far away. The lack of connection triggered a pang in his chest. He kissed her on the lips and held her tight. Mara was a thoughtful and giving girl, he thought. He made a mental note: When it was his turn to provide for Mara, he would bring an extra-special morsel home. Maybe even two.

Mara smiled to herself. She couldn't help but peek into Peter's mind. It made her hungry to think about what he was doing. She stood up to grab another piece of meat. Lucy noticed the smile and leaned over and smacked her on the behind playfully. She didn't like when others looked into private moments. She could tell from Mara's pink cheeks that she was listening too closely. Lucy couldn't help but take a glance into his mind either. Peter was so gentle with his victims.

"Hello," Skyla said as Brooke finally answered the phone. "Brooke, it's me."

"Hi. Hold on," Brooke whispered. Skyla tapped her foot as she waited for Brooke to speak again. "I know it is you," Brooke said. "Rob's in the office today. I had to run into the bathroom. What's up? How is it going?"

"Oh, Brooke, it is weird here. Real weird. I don't know. There is something going on with Alex's sister and the others where she works."

"The others? Slow down. How is Alex?"

"He is great. I mean, everything is so great with him. He is very ... aware of things. He says he can teach me to read minds. What do you think about that?"

"Like what you used to do? But you know how to do that, don't you?"

"I can't remember. I don't know how I used to do it. Remember how I never really did it on purpose? He says he can teach me. The others can do it, too. But there is some other stuff going on here."

Skyla tried to explain about the spooky text message and the strange feelings she got when she was around James. She had to leave out the part about thinking he had been following her in New York. She hadn't told Brooke about that. She couldn't force her words to take the shape of a conclusive story. They wrapped around in a foolish retelling of what had been happening in the den.

Brooke encouraged Skyla to give it more time, a couple of more days. It couldn't hurt anything. After all, maybe Skyla could find out some more about herself-finally figure out who and what she was. Witch suddenly seemed like an awfully broad term.

"Besides," Brooke pushed, "don't you really like him?"

Skyla admitted that she did. She also felt so very connected to New Orleans. It definitely seemed like the kind of place she could settle down in for a while. It was the kind of place where she could really feel free. Skyla had the strangest feeling that she had thought those words before.

"Something is so familiar about this place," Skyla said.

Just then Alex stepped out of the shower. Skyla and Brooke said goodbye and vowed to speak in two days.

"Let's go," Alex said. "Get in the shower, and then we'll get some breakfast. I could show you around some more. Maybe we will take a tour of the Ninth Ward."

Skyla thought that sounded just about right.
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