Page 3 of Midnight Whispers
“A vampire,” he repeats. “I drink blood, mainly from humans, but if there are none willing, I drink from animals, I am difficult to kill, I don’t age, must I keep going?”
I shake my head in a daze. He can’t be serious.
Asher clears his throat and continues. “I’m looking to create a coven of my own—a family, if you will—and I’d like to offer you a chance for this life. Family, riches beyond anything you could imagine, and the rest of time.”
My words catch on my tongue as I ask, “What would I have to do… to become like you?”
Family and riches? I’d be stupid to turn it down.
Asher pauses before responding. “I’d have to change you. I’d give you my blood and then kill you.”
“You would k… kill me?”
He dips his head in confirmation. “It sounds scary, and I will not lie to you, Finnian. It will hurt, but not for long.”
I should feel scared, right?
I should want to say no.
But I’m so tempted. So fucking tempted.
I have nothing to lose.
If Asher leaves, I’m once again alone. It’s back to searching for employment, my next meal, the next place to lay my head.
I nod quickly. “Okay.”
His eyebrows raise. “Okay?” Asher seems shocked. “This is a life changing event. Are you sure?”
“Yes,” I reply, nodding vehemently. “Let’s do it. Right now.”
Before I have a chance to change my mind.
“Right now? Oh goodness. Okay.” He takes a deep breath and his canines grow, becoming sharp and elongated. Asher sinks his teeth into his wrist. “Drink,” he commands, lifting his wrist to my mouth. I look at it for a moment, the blood pooling on his wrist. My stomach flips. This can’t be real, can it? I take a deep breath before I wrap my lips around his cold skin.
The sweet tang of it is unlike anything I’ve ever tasted before. His blood explodes on my tongue, flowing into my mouth and sliding down my throat. There must be something wrong with me because I think it’s absolutely delicious.
Asher starts to pull his wrist away, but I fight against the withdrawal.
“Finnian,” he snaps. “That’s enough.” His voice is stern. Reluctantly, I release my mouth from his wrist. I lick the excess off my lips, savoring every drop and awaiting instruction. “I’m going to kill you now,” Asher explains. He looks…almost remorseful. “When you wake, you’ll be my protégé.”
Everything instantly turns black and my body floats in a sea of emptiness, an abyss of existence.
There was no promise of Heaven waiting for me on the other side. I can’t help but to question… is that because it never existed at all?
2
Now…
The day my protégé Wren died, I promised myself I’d never become a maker again; except under one condition, and that'swhenI got the chance to kill Cedar. The Counsel requires a life be made to replace a life taken.
There’s no proof Cedar was the one who killed Wren, but after they left L.A., we never saw him again. Wren sent letters for a couple of years, but a few months before his death, they stopped. The letters came postmarked from all over the world, so it was nearly impossible to track him down.
Letting him go was one of the hardest things I ever had to do.
I had become a “vegetarian” of sorts; only eating deer, bear, and whatever kind of large feline I could literally sink my teeth into. It never fully satisfied me, so I decided I needed something else. I had chosen to live an alternate lifestyle because killing innocent people never felt right for me but killing the monsters was just fine. I do stillsnackon animals from time to time tosustain my appetite, but I love hunting the worst types of people.
Unlike my maker, Asher, who felt no remorse for hurting anyone, I still clung to my humanity even decades later. After rebelling in the twenties, once I decided I was ready to integrate back into society, I realized the number of shitty people in the world and all their behaviors and actions made it easy to revert to my natural appetite. If I was forced to be a monster and live in the shadows, the least I could do is rid the streets of the ones that lurk within plain sight.