Constantine said, “Hush, my love. He is not here. Do you remember what he did?”
Nodding slowly, I moved my hand down to my stomach. I felt no pain. I looked at Constantine, confused. “I thought I remembered that he ran me through with a spear. And you...” I said, touching him where I thought he was injured, and then his lips where I remember seeing the flash of his teeth.
Constantine sighed and said, “He did, Aefre.”
Eyes wide in panic, I stammered, “Where is he? Does he know where we are?”
“Aefre, I killed him for what he did,” Constantine said quietly. “I am sorry.”
As I took in his words, I felt no sorrow, only relief. He was a hateful, violent man and I hated him. “Oh, Constantine. No, don’t be sorry. He hurt me, he hurt you. He was an awful man. I am not sorry that he is dead.”
Relief etched his perfect features and his dark eyes watched me carefully.
“Constantine, how long have I been here? Where is here?” I gestured at the beautiful room.
“We are in Caen, my sweet, Normandy. We have been here only two days,” he answered softly, still watching me closely.
“Normandy? Across the sea? How did we get here? Only two days?” I asked, confused. I continued with more questions. “If I was run through, why do I feel no pain? Where is the wound? Where is your wound?” The questions kept coming as I started to panic. “Constantine, I don’t understand.”
“Aefre, be still. Yes, we travelled across the sea. You came to while we were on the water, but you were terribly ill, and I put you back under. I saved you from death, my love. As you lay bleeding in the barn, I turned you into one of my kind, to save you. I couldn’t bear to live without you. You see, Aefre, I am not mortal. I am a higher being, one they call a Vampire,” he said in a rush. I had never heard him so unsure of himself before.
I blinked slowly at him. “Pardon, sir. I don’t understand. You turned me? Not mortal? What does that mean? Why do I no longer have a wound?” I asked, almost hysterical now with panic and confusion.
“Aefre! My love. I will explain further,” Constantine said, managing to quiet me down so he could carry on with his explanation.
He told me about the Initial Vampires and where we came from and how, in order to save me from death, he fed me his blood, which transformed me. He told me he brought me to Normandy, to his castle there. He said he loved me and will love me forever. To survive, I had to drink blood, humans at first, but as I got older and stronger, I would need it less often and could survive by drinking Vampire blood. He said I would never age another day and that I would live forever. If I was wounded, I would heal immediately and that I was stronger, quicker, and more aware than I was as a human. Again, he told me he loved me.
I sat through his tale, speechless, blinking slowly, as I tried to take in what he was saying. I tried to believe his words.
I asked the first thing that came into my head: “How do I feed?” I felt the hunger lurking, but not for food. It was something more primal. Fierce, even. I felt a slight ache in my top teeth and put my hand up to my mouth. I pricked my finger on one of my fangs, drawing blood. Startled, I pulled my hand back. My nails had sharpened into points and I felt my eyes shifting, getting more focused.
“Like that!” Constantine smiled at me with pride, love, and joy.
Smelling the blood, the hunger rose up and without a second thought, I threw myself at him, quick as an arrow, and before I knew what I was doing, I sank my new fangs into his neck and suckled like a newborn baby. I felt his hands on me, in my hair, on my arms. I pulled away from him in a daze.
“Lick the wound,” he said huskily, and I did as he asked even as it healed. I stared in wonder at his perfect neck and into his perfect eyes.
“That’s my girl,” he said with pride and crushed his mouth against mine. “Oh, my sweet Aefre,” he murmured, “I love you so. Do you love me still? Accept what we are?”
I realized that I did. I would do or be anything for this man, this…Vampire, my love. “I do,” I told him. “I love you and accept what we are.”
With his eyes on fire, he whispered to me, as my fingers fumbled to free him, “We are now one, you and I. Always and forever.”
“Always and forever,” I repeated, feeling more alive than I ever had, I lost myself in him completely, as he did with me.
C ole watches me intently, listening to my story.
“You were turned in a barn?” is the only thing he asks me.
I glare at him, affronted, as Devon says, “Hey, I was turned in a barn as well, under similar circumstances.”
Cole turns to him, mouth agape. “This is just…”
“Too much?” I ask.
“No, not that, just surreal, I guess, is the word. You said that at first you need human blood to survive. Did you kill people?” he asks tentatively.
“Cole, I’ve been around a long time.” I sigh heavily and say, “I’ve – we’ve – done lots of bad things. Things that I’m not proud of and things I don’t like to dwell on. I stopped killing for sport in the early 1800s. It was just a way of life back then, kill or be killed. It’s a cliché for a reason. At some point, you just have to evolve.”