Narcotic

The moment Ethan’s eyelids parted, he searched for Brit in the darkness. His vision quickly became flawless again and he hinted a smile finding her nestled by his side. Inching closer to close the gap the daytime sleep had put between them, he laid his right arm on her upper arm gently brushing back the strands of hair that veiled her doll-like face. He studied her to ensure that all was as it was prior to their rest. Satisfied, Ethan beamed for a moment while touching her face. His thoughts were clear: “Nobody can take better care of you than me. Nobody.” Withdrawing his hand, he touched her chest feeling her breathe evenly in her sleep. Her chest rose and fell evenly as she slept as he lay there unblinking and marveling at he wonder of His creation that he was blessed with.

Two weeks ago, Ethan had taken Brit to the church and watched as she performed her nightly prayers. Many were milling about the streets. He could feel the question before she asked it. “Ethan,” she lisped softly. “Our door is locked lately. It did not use to be so,” she said.

His footsteps sounded firm on the street as he escorted her home. They passed someone who frequented the church steps but rarely entered. “Yes, baby,” Ethan replied. “I thought it prudent to lock the door so no one could enter our resting place while we sleep.” Glancing down, he nodded once and kept a firm hold on her hand. “I do want to keep you safe, of course. And comforted,” he added in a lower voice.

Brit needed to run to keep up with him. She countered, “But…Ethan.” He seemed to be speeding up. She ran along beside him and continued, “It was locked to others before and not to me. But now. Now, it is locked to me.” Ethan was almost to the steps and she ran again to catch him. Clasping his arm, she whined, “I cannot go get cookies!”

At her words, he turned abruptly and looked at her intently holding up a single finger to her lips. “There is nothing that you need that I cannot provide, Brit. Nothing.” His jaw clenched slightly, “Anything you can get while away from me, you can get the same or better with me.” Ethan’s voice dropped to a whisper as he caressed her cheek, “There is no need for you to be away from me.” Turning, he walked toward the steps again to their resting place. Opening the door, he let her walk in ahead of him. Following, he said softly, “And I want you close. So close. Everything else is secondary.” The door closed and did not re-open again for her.

So you face it with a smile

There is no need to cry

For a trifle's more than this

After two weeks, Ethan was far from running out of stories. On the contrary, he found that he loved reminiscing and knew that Brit was interested in from where he had come. Ethan enjoyed Arles in 1888. The artist community that thrived during that year brought enlightened, lively conversation among witty, clever, and talented people who wore bright colors. Ethan smudged the deep blue kohl around Brit’s mossy green eyes and stood back appraising his work. “Van Gogh,” he told her, “used to drink absinthe in the Hôtel Restaurant Carrel in the Rue de la Cavaleirie when he was not crying over some love lost to a prostitute.” He went on to describe how odd it felt to him to view the old Roman Arena and remember when such were used, or to touch the medieval gate and remember it new.

Brit loved when Ethan talked of times gone by. She could not imagine her husband frequenting parties of artists and writers. Similarly, she could not imagine Ethan in many times of his life. Among the more perplexing were his descriptions of the fall of Constantinople and the Crusades. Also confusing was his role in seeking those who acted against God: The power of the demonic influences was lost on her. Brit loved his descriptions of when he first heard a truly modern pipe organ or saw a man-made object fly.

Ethan noticed that Brit seemed more focused on the changes of culture and inventions than politics and war. Getting a bit of midnight blue to darken her outer eye corners, Ethan dabbed carefully noticing the enhancement to the whites of her eyes. So perfect, but fragile, he thought. Brit was such a precious gift, but her fragility caused Ethan more concern with each passing day. As his brush stroked on color, Brit looked up at him and he paused as if caught in a spell. The brush slowed. She was his to love and to protect. Brit was his wife, he thought. Ethan’s lips parted and he blinked feeling God would wish what he was thinking. The brush touched her eyes gently and Ethan knew that Brit would never age another day; and God would approve else he would never have brought her to him.

Will you still recall my name

And the month it all began

Will you release me with a kiss

To be sure, there was much to consider. He finished painting her face and turned it left and right slowly. Perfection was important when one was meant to never change again. Ethan’s fingers ran through her hair and he examined the ends to ensure they were perfectly trimmed. Moving her hair to behind her shoulders, his fingers ran over her neck. To heal the bite mark or not? In turning her, their reason for being was no longer important, but his vanity admitted to enjoying them on her throat. Unable to resist, he bent his head to feel them with his lips. His fangs lengthened and he could feel her pulse throb beneath her skin. No more sicknesses, Ethan thought. No more worries, he reassured himself feeling his fangs rub her bites.

Brit’s head tilted at the touch of his fangs. One hand went behind her head and another gathered around her and pulled her securely against him. Breaking the skin, the small crimson drops welled and he tasted her sweetness. How would her blood change, he wondered? His fangs teased open her bite marks allowing the blood to trickle into his mouth. Sweet, like candy. Closing his eyes, he enjoyed the flavor and closeness. He had all night. No need to hurry, he said to himself. Brit’s arms went around him and her fingernails caressed his back. Fingernails, he remembered. Healing the wounds, he pulled away to examine them. Smiling up at her, he leaned and carefully licked the wounds healing her bite marks completely.

Have I tried to draw the veil

If I have - how could I fail?

Did I fear the consequence

... dazed by careless words

Cozy in my mind

Using the cosmetic file, Ethan ensured that her fingers and toes matched and were filed to pristine perfection. Beauticians, he mused, should be the most learned theologians as they had so much time to muse. As he filed, he thought of changes she would have to learn. Feeding. His chylder learned quickly enough, he thought, which was good as she had become such a wanderer. What if the same happened to Brit? Could she survive and feed? To be sure, she had no issue drinking from him but who was to say she could partake blood from others. His eyes flashed crimson at the thought, but he had to come to terms with the concept that drinking from other sources may mean survival.

Also, if he had to leave town for a while, who could care for her? She would be a fledgling. A chylder as well as his wife. So loved. Would an enemy target her? Ethan was not so naïve to not know that answer. Plus, in his world, he really should ensure there was approval to insure she would be protected without him. At one time, Nikita could have been a reliable back-up, but she had not been seen in months. Pieter would tend to Brit, if needed, but Ethan was unsure he wanted to risk the exposure to what Brit would see in the Pit. As for Omega, there was also risk of unwanted exposure. Ethan took a deep breath and let his mind refocus. Perhaps turning her was not the best plan. Yet.

Chorus: I don't mind

I think so

I will let you go

Now you shaped that liquid wax

Fit it out with crater cracks

Sweet devotion- my delight

As the pendulum swung the other way, Ethan pulled her to him again. He loved to drink from her and had grown to anticipate the taste of her blood. Metallic after she ate mushrooms. Salty after seafood. Sweet after cookies and such. But it was more refined than the obvious. Her moods and biological responses also flavored her blood. Again, he wondered whether Brit’s blood would change so if she were like him. Ethan’s mind wondered as he kissed her hand again before gathering her hair and starting to brush it. He made a mental note to order strawberries coated in a rich layer of pure dark chocolate.

Another kiss of her hand, Ethan slid a white chemise over her head and remembered his earlier thought: Brit would not age another day. There were two ways to achieve such things. Perching on the side of the desk, he rolled up his sleeve. Brit watched how his hair framed his face. Seeing her glance, Ethan gave a playful wink and brought his wrist to his mouth breaking the skin. Shifting, he pulled her to where she sat between his legs and held his wrist to her mouth. “Drink.” Her mouth felt warm against his wrist as she drank from him. He felt her body respond to his blood down to the strengthened heartbeat. Pulling her head back to the edge of his shoulder, he watched the pulse under her skin and felt her drink wondering whether she found his taste as intoxicating as he found hers.

Oh, you're such a pretty one

And the naked thrills of flesh and skin

Would tease me through the night

Ethan kept his wrist to her mouth. He knew she did not require so much, but wanted to share of himself with his wife. Brit was his wife. His eyes darkened at the recent interference of so many friends. Deep within, Ethan knew Brit’s friends meant well. Those such as Joah. Kissing Brit’s temple, he noticed that she had stopped drinking. How dare Joah tell him that he was wrong in his choices regarding his wife! Ethan licked his wounds and continued to think. If Joah were not bad enough, Omega also started to question his choices regarding Brit. Flexing his wrist, he struggled to keep his talons in check. Rage welled up within and, with a sudden animalistic growl, he quickly transitioned Brit to laying back on the desk and hovered his fangs over her throat. Again the thought to change her. Make her more like him. Give her a life-long connection.

Ethan’s body trembled causing Brit to look over to him in confusion. She could not see his face or his red-glowing eyes. He longed to drink deep of her. To feel her crumple and revive her while he held her. His. She would be completely his then. His fingers shook as he drew her near and scratched her throat with the sharp tips. He could hear her heart dare him to drink. The angry energy of being questioned caused him to growl as he quickly pushed her to the desk. Brit’s look of surprise gave him a brief pause. Rather than seeming alarmed, she relaxed back looking up to him and her sense of calm soothed him. Rather than finding brick to destroy, his talons stroked down her body ripping and moving the fabric aside. A slight screech of metal on glass could be heard as he leaned over her and kissed her tummy. Soft caresses yielded a tranquil feeling as he sought, selected and sank his fangs into her skin and drank.

"Now i hate to leave you bare

If you need me I'll be there

Don't you ever let me down"

..dazed by careless words

Cozy in my mind

He felt her body respond and enjoyed the way the taste of her blood changed as he drank. It was a struggle to drink slowly. It was a greater struggle to stop. Ethan’s talons retracted and his eyes became normal again but still he drank miniscule sips. Each sip, he knew he would care for God’s creation. With each caress, he knew he would protect his wife. Brit’s fingers entwined in his hair as she felt her fingers and toes grow colder. Still he drank until her heartbeat quickened. Even then, he kept his fangs embedded in her without pulling more blood.

Brit’s breathing was the only sound in the room. Ethan removed his fangs once he felt himself again. Music played close by. He knew that she would never let him down, but he also knew that she would never be parted from him. Ethan’s body ground against Brit’s as he kissed her lips. Giving her a soft caress, he bit her neck again returning her bite marks.

Chorus: : I don't mind

I think so

I will let you go

No, Ethan thought. He would never let her go. Picking her up, he laid her back on the coverlet of their resting place. It had been two weeks, but Ethan had no desire to leave the room. He had all that he needed in the room and could requisition anything Brit needed to be delivered.

And I touched your face

Narcotic mind from lazed Mary-Jane

Brit felt Ethan's fingers again on her face. He had arranged for Annika to bring her food, but she was content subsisting on his vitae. “You will eat properly tomorrow, Brit,” Ethan whispered. Not tonight, he thought.

And I called your name

Like an addicted to cocaine calls for the stuff he'd rather blame

It had been two weeks. And Ethan noticed that Brit did not seem to care whether they stayed in. He wondered if she could endure watching a sunrise on a DVD one frame at a time.

And I touched your face

Narcotic mind from lazed Mary-Jane

If someone had asked, Brit would have been surprised how much time had passed. Cold, tired, and content is all she felt and so she rested.

And I called your name

My cocaine

While she rested, Ethan thought again of those who meant so well and knew that none could care for his wife as he could.

Chorus: : I don't mind

I think so

I will let you go

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jsj-37UrxeM

The Inquisition

Ethan said, “Last year, you made a lovely witch, Brit. I enjoyed dancing at the church thoroughly.” Both were on the second floor of the Shelter and gazing out of the window to the street below. A neko in an angel outfit passed along with a demon wearing scarcely more than a halo. Raising an eyebrow, Ethan audibly exhaled. “I wish to stay in tonight.’ His fingers reached for her and he nodded back to their resting place even though the night was still early. She seemed surprised, but said nothing and followed him inside to their resting place.

Sitting in his chair, Ethan pulled Brit onto his lap before picking up the book on his desk. “You asked for a story, I believe. A Halloween story.”

Brit perked with interest turning to the book. “Oh yes, please,” she lisped before adding with a whisper, “A scary story.” Attempting to twist to look at the book, she rearranged herself in Ethan’s lap ready to hear the story and hoped the book held pictures.

He grinned at her interest in Halloween knowing she knew little of its history. “A scary story,” Ethan repeated. “And you promised it would not cause night terrors.” Brit nodded affirmatively as he watched. “Hmm. Well, very well.” Opening the book, he gave her a sideways glance and said, “This of course is not a fairy tale, Brit.” Seeing her look of surprise, he added, “This story is very real.” When her eyes widened suitably, he said, “It is called The Inquisition. I borrowed this book from the library’s collection – using my new library card.”

Ethan paused to reflect that he truly had a new library card written in red glitter crayon no less. With a shake of his head, he continued, “I selected this book because of your obvious interest in witches because witches among other things were focuses of inquisitions.” Brit had him pause due to several questions. He responded patiently ensuring she understood the purpose and key players in an inquisition.

“Now sometimes,” Ethan explained, “an inquisitor would be called to identify a witch. Those who were thought to cavort and interact with the devil were rounded up and brought before this man of God.”

“How would people know who was a witch?” asked Brit.

Ethan placed his hand to his mouth pressing slightly to suppress the grin. When he was quite sure he could maintain his serious expression, he said, “Sometimes, one could determine it by their dress. Such as a pointy hat like you wore last year on this night.”

Brit blinked and said, “Maybe the girl just wore it for Halloween. Like I did!”

With a half shrug, Ethan said, “Well, Brit. They would always give a reason such as that, but they could have worn anything. Why would they select such a garment knowing how it made them look?”

Brit said, “Because…Halloween. It’s all for witches and ghosts and vampires and…scary things….not that you are scary. But you can be scary if you want.” She blinked a few times before shaking her head not wishing to remember him that way.

“I am a vampire, baby. So I dress as one for Halloween, but you,” he almost cooed dragging his finger down her neck, “You dressed as a witch. Hmm?”

Brit squirmed and said, “But, Ethan. I…I’m not a witch.”

Sighing deeply, he closed the book and seemed lost in thought. “All witches say that. I think every one I knew back then would have said it.” He looked at her with feigned concern. “No matter. There are other ways to see if one is a witch.”

Brit seemed relieved, “Good.” His fingers still stroked her skin and he said nothing but seemed to watch her oddly, “Um…how?”

“Oh, quite simple really,” he said low. His fingers caressed her hair, “Witches often had red hair.” He let the comment hang in the air and he held her gaze. Her heartbeat picked up slightly and he said softly, “And often….green eyes.”

Brit swallowed hard and said, “But….I’m not a witch. I’m just me.”

This time, he simply watched her. His fingers traced her lips before caressing her bite marks. “Some bewitched their beloveds. And caused them to act in ways they had not before.” She tilted her head in confusion. “I’d never married…before you.”

“Because you love me!” she exclaimed. He said nothing. She turned an opened the book. Several pictures of witches before and after redemption could be found. “I’m not a witch, Ethan.” She peeked at him over the book. Her hand shook slightly as she flipped pages.

“Witches were often nervous when questioned. They seemed afraid in an interrogation.”

Brit squeaked seeing an image. “Yah….LOOK at what they did to witches!”

Closing the book, Ethan took it from her. “They have no reason to fear less they were witches Brit.” His voice was eerily calm. His fingers pointedly went to her hair, eyes, and bite marks. Looking down, he adjusted her wedding ring.

She watched him silently noticing his fingernails had lengthened. “Do witches always hang or get burned when they were found?” Her voice seemed stressed and breathy. Her heart beat had quickened a bit more.

Ethan’s eyes flashed crimson just for a moment and the mist sealed the door. “No, Brit. Sometimes they were drowned as well.” Opening his desk drawer, he retrieved his rosary. “Have you something you need to confess?” His voice was still strangely quiet.

“I….I’m not a witch!” She squirmed watching his fingers adjust his rosary. She repeated her words with a hint of a pout as she felt helpless.

It was all Ethan could do to keep from giggling, but he said, “I never said you were a witch, Brit. But sometimes, witches will try to use sympathy to cloud the fact they were a witch.” She swallowed hard and blinked at him not knowing what to say. Her heart was racing. “Are you quite sure….you have not something you wish to say?” he asked again.

“No!” She gasped and took a big breath suddenly wanting to get fresh air.

Ethan said calmly, “Tempers. Witches were notorious for displaying a flash of temper.”

Brit slipped from his lap and started to say something and blinked. Then she started to say something again, and puffed her cheeks. Ethan reached for his rosary and let it dangle from his fingertips without taking his eyes off of her. “I’m not a witch,” she told him again.

Ethan arched his eyebrow and reached for the book. Opening it, he read silently for several moments while Brit stood there and squirmed. “It says here,” he said with his fingers tapping the page, “that witches have distinguishing marks up on their body. Since you seem so adamantly wishing to prove to me you are not a witch, we shall take a look.” With a motion, he said, “You will need to remove your clothing. After all, a proper witch would likely hide enchantments in them.”

Later, Ethan declared Brit innocent of witchcraft. She lisped sleepily, “I told you that I was not a witch.”

Chuckling, he replied, “Brit. I never thought you were a witch.”

Sitting up quickly, she gasped, “You made me think so! You…you…you scared me!”

Pulling her to him, he gave her a sweet kiss. “You asked me for a scary story. Your mind did the rest.”

Happy Halloween!

The Nature of Beasts

One evening in September, Blueray intervened with a tut-tut as Apollo reached to touch Brit’s bite marks in front of Ethan and, Ethan’s abrupt reaction and words caused her to smile cruelly. Her thoughts turned to the true nature of a beast when its treasure is touched. She had heard tales of it, but had never witnessed it for herself. Apollo seemed quite bewildered. Blueray warned, “Do you really want to die so easily?”
*****
Ethan watched Brit as she walked from the diner. Her three days away from him surely affected her negatively. His eyes narrowed as he observed. She didn’t seem as peppy as she usually was, he noted grimly and, before her absence, she would have all but ran up the steps. To Ethan, this confirmed what he already knew: While others could try to care for his beloved, only he really knew how to tend to her best. The thought briefly cheered him up and he watched her duck inside.

Ethan nodded briefly to the guests of the Shelter as he followed Brit in. When she slowed to greet those she had not seen in a few days, he felt his annoyance return. Patches of news were exchanged. All caused his mood to grow darker. He wanted to thoroughly check her over and her usual inattentiveness fueled his displeasure at this moment. “Brit, please,” he said as he gestured impatiently toward the stairs. A few steps later, Ethan found himself speaking to another, “I must speak with my wife. You will please excuse us.” By the time they reached the landing, Ethan muttered in a language he had all but forgotten, “Good lord. Herding cats would be easier.” As they reached the door, he said, “I wish you to remove those clothes when we settle.”

Remembering the pictures of medicinal cups that were applied to the skin, Brit stopped just outside of the door. Seeing others nearby, he wrapped an arm about her waist as he opened the door and easily deposited her inside the room. The door shut with a loud thud and he audibly exhaled. “Ethan,” she lisped softly. His mouth did not move but she heard his voice loudly within her head exclaim, “Do as I say!” She backed away slightly in surprise and bumped the desk.

Seeing her surprise, he looked down uncomfortably for a moment and rechecked his temper before looking up at her again. “Brit, remove your clothing.” His jaw muscle clenched as he added, “Please.” Watching him a moment, she nodded and fumbled with the lacings on the front of the dress. He could tell that she was not frightened, but she was bewildered at his mood. Her hands shook in confusion causing him to soften a bit more. Walking to her, he took her hands kissing the palm of each one and rubbing them with his thumb. Arranging them on her lap, his hand stroked her hair for a moment before he took her laces and started to pull. Ethan said softly, “Why…why did you leave the Shelter….our resting place?” His eyes watched attentively for an answer.

She watched him curiously. His voice sounded different. Thicker. Peering up at him, she replied sincerely, “My chest hurt, Ethan, and you were resting. And I remembered Joah could make people better.” He quietly loosened the bodice before staring at her palms again. This time, he removed the gloves to look more closely at her skin. His fingers tracing to her wrists turning them over in his hands as if viewing a precious coin to ensure it is the same coin as seen the day before. Watching him rub at a white fleck on her fingernail, she wondered whether he would answer.

Ethan slid the bodice from her shoulders and untied the skirt to watch it fall. Ethan’s chest rose and fell as if he was exhaling again and he nodded that he understood. His eyes looked different. Darker. His fingers removed the bodice and skirt completely before he lifted her to the desk to remove her boots noting that one of the buckles was even on the wrong notch. His fingers examined her legs one at a time as he removed her stockings after popping each garter. Noting no changes, he placed a hand on each side of her hips and said coolly, “I could have tended to you when I woke.”

“But you were resting,” she explained. It was all most logical to her.

Caressing her skin through the chemise, he noted a spot of fabric that was wearing thin. It wasn’t there before! Ethan could smell the scent of the library under the heady eucalyptus scent that still clung to her skin despite her shower. The library smell was not unpleasant, but it was not the finely milled soap that he had created after spending several hours in the perfumery. Without a response, he picked her up and carried her to the shower. Turning on the water, he touched it to be sure it was warm before removing her chemise and pressing her under the water.

Watching her play in the water a bit lightened his mood. Ethan removed his shoes, socks and jacket before quickly rolling his pant legs and shirt sleeves. Not caring that the fabric got wet, he lathered up her hair in the familiar vanilla-laced shampoo that held a barely-there hint of musk. His hands soaped her up using the same scent. Each time, he would bring her near and inhale deeply until she seemed familiar with his eyes closed. As he dried her, he noticed every mark that had not been on her before and quizzed her over each and every one of them.

After Brit was dried, Ethan rubbed lotion into her skin. Noting her smooth texture, he wondered who had supplied her with personal necessities. She had necessities, he thought darkly. Here. Shaking off the grim thought, he carefully started to comb out her wet hair. “Did someone comb your hair out, Brit?” he asked suspiciously.

Brit said, “No. I did that myself.”

Neglectful, Ethan thought. It was just more proof that only he could properly care for her. He smirked at the thought. Ethan selected her dress and make up for the following evening, but kept her wrapped in a large bath sheet for now. A few final checks and he felt that she was as she had been before leaving even if she had a bit of the cold lingering.

Still a bit weary from her cold, she snuggled against him. After arranging her just so, he nuzzled her neck and bit gently. Her blood tasted differently. Perhaps it was the lingering cold or maybe it was her change in diet. No matter, Ethan thought. It will be normal soon. With that thought, he brought his wrist up and bit so the blood pooled. “You will drink now.” There was no ‘please’ or other nicety. His voice left no question whether it was offered as he pressed it against her lips and held it so until she drank sufficiently.

Ethan was nearly falling over from needing to rest when he finally pulled her to him and set the mist around the door to protect. Waking before he did as always, Brit pulled on what he wanted her to wear and tried to open the door finding it quite locked. She fumbled with the mechanism. After a few minutes, she knew that it would only open when his eyes did.

Good Intentions

Three nights before, Ethan woke and reached for Brit only to find a crumpled blanket. With an audible sigh, he rose, dressed, and went to find where she had gone. She was not in the showers, so he went toward the first floor coming to a halt when he saw that the first floor was submerged. The city had flooded so high that the water had breached the sandbags. Ethan shot back to the second floor asking the Shelter’s residents whether they had seen his wife. None had. A few questions brought him a bit of comfort at finding the flood had come in steadily but gradually. It was unlikely that Brit had got caught in fast waters and swept out to sea.

Regardless, he stormed up to the rooftop and flagged down a passerby on a float made of barrels. Masking his concern, he asked, “Could you go to the library to inquire whether my wife is there? Return either way. I shall make it worth your while.” Ethan paced the rooftop until the person returned. He found that his wife was at the library where she was being tended for a cold. His mouth set grimly as he paid the man for the information. Not only was Brit stranded across town, but she was unwell. Time passed slowly and Ethan’s mood grew darker despite his ability to get information regarding Brit. He had not been more than an arm’s reach from her upon waking in over a year. By the end of the third night, Ethan knew the streets would be passable when he woke the following evening. He laid caressing the space beside him when it was time to rest.

The following evening, Ethan travelled to the library. He took the steps two at a time and entered to find a crowd. Immediately seeing Brit, he merely looked at her without interfering with the conversation. Wrapping an arm around her, he kissed her cheek and turned to the group. His foot tapped on the ground slightly as he looked from one to the next as they spoke. Brit’s hair, he noted, had been washed in a shampoo that was unknown to him. His fingers caressed her locks and he examined the ends of her hair unhappily.

More conversation. Ethan grinned at Brit’s remark about way nice people. His expression darkened when he looked back to Blue and he spoke for the first time, “There are consequences for everything. Our actions always catch up with us. What you will decide to do will haunt you forever as well. I can only wish you luck and prudence in your choices.” He kept Brit close to him and caressed her arms. His fingers drug on her skin slightly from the soap she had used. It was not the finely milled soaps he had purchased. He wondered where she had bathed and whether anyone was near when she did so. Larissa inquired about the two of them and Ethan assured her that they were well enough. He added, “Brit has had a minor adventure with her health.” Looking down at her, he sad, “Which will be made sure not to trouble us again.”

More people came and went and the conversation continued. Ethan settled near the fire and pulled Brit to him placing two fingers on her throat for 30 seconds. He then brought his lips to her forehead. Brit held still for him and said, “I really do not think I need an onion poultice. Or cupping. Or even a remedy from this century.” The last was a quote from Omega as she held out the small bottle of antibiotic. Ethan took it looking over the label.

Looking at Brit sternly, Ethan said, “I do think that such a decision is for me to make and for you to comply with.” His gaze seemed rather absolute even as he continued to caress her side with his fingertips. Her clothing, he noticed, was clean and it smelled of eucalyptus. His abrupt words caused her to blink. She assured him that she was much better. At her words, he cocked a brow and his foot started to tap again rhythmically. “Much better is not well, is it?” With the same stern expression, he said calmly, “There will be no discussion about this Brit.” He stared at her as she crinkled her nose and struggled not to rub it. “If needed, I will treat your symptoms with ways that have proven themselves over centuries.”

Omega noted that Brit did seem much improved. Ethan nodded slightly at Omega and looked Brit over again. “So she tells me,” he said softly as he ran his finger up her side to her throat again. Pressing his lips together, his jaw muscle flexed beneath the skin. “Perhaps no poultice then.” With an added whisper, he said, “We shall see about the cupping though.”

“Cupping!” Omega exclaimed. “Surely you jest, Ethan.” Brit swallowed nervously and cuddled against him. She remembered seeing pictures of such practices and the marks it left behind.

Ethan returned the antibiotics to Omega. “These will not be required. And jest? Surely I am not. I do not often find myself in the role of the jester.” His fingertips moved back to Brit and stroked down her arm to her fingers entwining them with his own.

Omega smiled, “I will keep the tablets in case Brit’s illness takes a turn for the worse. Thankfully she seems to be recovering without additional measures – either modern or barbarically medieval.”

Narrowing his eyes for a moment, Ethan responded, “You surely mean ‘proven treatments that have been tested for more than three years on lab rats before being released to the market.” Placing an arm around Brit, he pulled her closer and ran his hand over her back and neck. His lips almost formed a pout as he stared at the patterns in the flames of the fire. “Antibiotics are…” His words trailed off before they even started. His fingers tapped lightly along the slope of her shoulder. “Brit, did you eat and drink properly tonight? Will Annika have anything to report to me?”

With the flood, Brit had not left the library in three days. She pointed out that Grr had made soups. Grr discussed what was in each healthy stew. Ethan nodded slightly to Grr and said, “I am sure you have made every effort to keep her well-fed. I do appreciate that.” Turning to Brit, Ethan seemed to almost be inspecting her as he said dryly, “So, you have not been eating what I have directed Annika to prepare for you specifically.” She tried to point out the flood, but was cut short with, “I believe we have a trip to the diner coming then.” Frowning, he took a firm hold of her hand and said, “We should go.”

Brit thanked all for helping her to get better and followed Ethan to the diner. Once there, he ordered food to be brought to her and asked that other supplies he had ordered to be sent to the Shelter less it spoil. While she ate, he examined her skin, which seemed slightly ashen and her fingernails – one which had a small white fleck in the pink just below the crescent moons. He grimaced as he touched the fingertips and noted they needed lotion. His mood felt dark as he thought of Omega’s near chiding of his decisions. “I will never do something that is not thought through with you, Brit. And you need to do what I tell you and trust me.” Tapping the table with his fingers, he grumbled, “I know what I am doing when it involves you, princess.”

As she ate, Ethan silently watched. His thoughts were troubled and he felt angry. Logic said that all was well and that he should be grateful that Brit had been well-cared for. Memory of waking three days without her played over in his mind. Petulantly, he reminded himself that he could have cared for her had she not have left! Noting she was playing with her food more than eating, he said abruptly, “I wish to return to the Shelter.” Signing a slip for Annika, he gestured Brit toward the door. Rather than walk with her, he followed a step behind.

October 14th

Brit looked out of the second floor window. It had stopped raining. Peering over the railing, she noted that the water had still submerged the first floor. Returning to her pillow, she laid across it and took a deep breath. Brit was breathing easier. Even though she continued to cough and sneeze a bit, her fever was gone. Omega had suggested that she rest, and Ethan had not been able to travel to the library to get her. Coloring had been suggested but Brit did not feel up to the strain of drawing and, therefore, she did something she never had done before: She looked at the pictures she had drawn before.

Turning the pages, she noticed the picture she had colored a few days after Ethan had become her beloved. Her brow furrowed as she noticed there was no picture of the night on the rooftop. Looking again to the window, she blinked rhythmically. She focused and realized that a year had passed. Sitting in the quiet of the library, she counted. It was too confusing. She went to get a calendar and stared at it. Her fingers touched the date of October 14th. A year had passed!

Brit crawled to the library window and stared up at the rooftop across the street at the spot she first saw Ethan. They had not become beloveds right away. Months passed. For a time, he had gone into torpor. Forty days and nights passed. Day in and out, she had watched over him and cared for him as he lay dormant. She ensured he was clean of dust and debris, and she read to him daily. Days passed. She brushed his hair and took the liberty of really observing him. She even moved his lips so she could view his fangs. Prior to Ethan, fangs terrified her.

When it was time for him to wake, she was excited to see him moving again even though she felt a small sense of loss. It was the first time Brit ever felt a purpose. She felt that he needed her. Prior to torpor, he had given her clear instructions to pull the dagger and leave. Brit pulled the dagger, but could not leave. Ethan turned his back on her and said tersely, “Brit, you are not safe here.” She knew then that he needed her. Rather than leaving, she offered her wrist. Others arrived on the rooftop, but she was attached to him as he drank from her wrist. At that moment, Brit felt that he needed her and they were rarely apart again.

A few nights later, on October 14th, they were both at the spot where Brit first saw Ethan. She peeked back up at it as if to see him standing there. An odd being said, “Hello, dead one. Are you luring or preying?” Ethan responded and the subject of lies was brought up by the being. Ethan said that he could determine whether someone had lied easily. This was curious as Brit had just learned of lies. She asked him to demonstrate by asking what he could see in her mind.

Ethan seemed startled, but removed his glasses to comply with her request. He looked at her eyes. She found herself unable to look away thinking his eyes were as beautiful as the rest of him. Brit remembered feeling almost linked in the gaze. Her cheeks flushed pink remembering his whisper, “Quite unique. Especially for a human girl.” He turned and mechanically took his hand, and he did not pull back when she clasped it. The nearness was comforting and she stepped closer to brush back his hair.

At some point, the strange being faded away. Brit enjoyed being with him. When Brit neared him, his hand seemed to shake a bit. Brit could no longer feel the presence within as she could moments ago. As she came closer, Ethan’s eyes were less radiant and he held her hand a bit tighter. With a tilt of his head, he seemed to be staring at something rare in front of him. His eyes seemed more focused on what was in front of him rather that what laid beyond her eyes.

Stepping closer, Brit idly touched his hair as if he were still in torpor. Ethan did not move for several minutes nor did he say a word. His hand reached out and lightly touched his hair. He pulled her to him slowly. Ethan ran his hand through her hair once. Twice. His face seemed to show a hint of conflict as if Ethan was having second thoughts about what he was feeling; and then, Ethan leaned a bit forward as if wanting to close most f the gap between them.

Brit felt his hand grow warmer and she watched as he moved closer. Unbeknownst to her, she also leaned a bit closer in return. Ethan ran a finger down her cheek before outlining her lips before touching her face. Moving his fingers away from her lips, he gently stroked her face after pulling back. Then he closed his eyes and leaned in again barely touching her lips with his. Brit’s eyes did not close and she stood statue straight as she felt his lips touch hers. It was so light that she was unsure whether it had really happened.

Ethan pulled back a moment gauging her reaction and then leaned forward again to softly place a second kiss on her lips, and he swore that his heart was beating in his chest. Brit’s hand clung to his and her eyes closed on the second kiss remaining so after he broke the kiss. She blinked slowly a few more times before closing her eyes and mimicking his motion as she returned his most gentle kiss. Ethan felt his senses heighten and he pulled her closer to him to feel her lips on his again. This time, the kiss was bolder. And like before, it was returned.

Later, they continued to watch the city from the rooftop. The shouts and screams meant nothing to either of them. It was true that she had experienced nothing of love or lovers, but she whispered, “I think I always knew you would be my lover.”

Ethan grinned playfully and held her really close for a moment. The shouts and screams from the city below did not distract either of them. “I’m very lucky indeed,” he said as he wrapped his arms around her.

It was at that moment that Brit realized that, with his nearness, her mind was peacefully at rest. Usually, Brit struggled with thousands of sensations but, with him near, Brit found none of the usual distractions. She liked the feeling of him close to her. Wanting to offer him something, she whispered, “I’ll describe sunrise for you every day if you want.”

His arms tightened around her. “That might well be the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard,” he said. Brit remembered it all as she waited for him to come to the library for her. She hoped the rain would stop so he could remember the past year with her on the rooftop.

[Ethan, this morning’s sunrise was a deep pink along the horizon blanketed above by dark purple clouds. As you raise your eyes to the sky above, there was a vibrant tangerine that faded into a creamy orange color melding into light blue. Traveling to the west, the sky had a darker shade of blue. I hope I always describe sunrises to you. Happy 1st anniversary.]

Home Remedies

((Taken from RP))
Brit woke disoriented and drenched. Outside, the rain continued to pour down hard and the streets were silent. There was fire. Turning her head quickly, she blinked and then recognized the warm hearth of the library fireplace. Trying to piece together events of the evening before, she clawed her wet hair matted to her face. Sitting up, she pushed back Denny’s cape that she had swaddled around her. The library was quiet. Grr looked up from where he worked nearby. She heard Joah’s voice mingled with Faye Li’s somewhere near along with Omega’s. Comforting, but where was Ethan?

Blinking slowly, she watched the flames jump and remembered being in the Shelter with her beloved. He was talking to someone. “I suppose it is all a big circle in the city,” he had said. There was something about the factory. It was not about the guests who had to work off a theft of fuel from there. She closed her eyes and tried to remember. There was a girl with a mechanical smile who made healthy soups. Apollo was mentioning cookies. Brit felt very cold while they spoke and Ethan had cuddled her to him. Then it happened: A tickle of her nose that caused her to sneeze.

Brit could not remember what people were talking about. She recalled that she was shivering as she accepted the hanky Ethan had given her to assist with her dripping nose. His hand slid to her head. Apollo and the girl with the mechanical smile were continuing to discuss soups. Something about shellfish. Something about ways to make them safe to eat. Ethan had blinked and said, “Okay. This is exactly why I said not to forget your raincoat or umbrella, Brit.” He quickly wrapped up his conversations and directed Brit upstairs. Ethan’s jaw clenched and she was quite certain that he was cross with her.

As they were leaving, Apollo mentioned a nurse who was suited for other purposes than nursing. Closing her eyes tightly, Brit remembered feeling very tired as she made it to their resting place and Ethan checking her over. He counted her heartbeats and placed his lips to her forehead. “My head hurts,” she told him. “My nose feels tickly.” His eyes turned dark as he listened while he continued to methodically check her vital signs. “I’m cold,” she whispered.

Turning her away from him, he said sternly, “You will drink now.” His expression made it obvious that he expected nothing more than compliance. Raising his left sleeve, he flexed his fist before bringing his wrist to his mouth and biting down. Hugging her from behind, he held his opened wrist to her mouth and noted that she was stuffy and had a bit of trouble swallowing. His strict expression flashed to worry and he held her a bit tighter. The night was getting late. He had her drink deeply and pulled her to him as he drifted off after feeling that she seemed stronger.

Flames crackled in the fireplace. Brit remembered leaving the Shelter. It was too early for Ethan to wake. Congested. She found her chest hurt when she took breaths. The coughing had started and sneezing grew worse. Feeling weak, she vaguely remembered dodging large puddles to make her way to the library. Joah. She remembered that she had come to find Joah. When she entered, she was greeted by Grr and Joah. Faye Li was there and Omega arrived right after Brit did. Brit remembered some conversation between sneezes. She wanted to be sure that those at the library prepared for the rising waters just in case there was another flood. The small talk made her forget why she had arrived.

“Do you have a cold, Brit?” It was Joah’s voice. She was unsure what it meant, but she felt freezing. Brit had never had so much as a sniffle before. The sneezing and coughing was bewildering. She explained that Ethan told her that she had been in the rain too much and Grr indicated that Ethan was old enough to know.

Omega walked to Brit and gently placed her hand on Brit’s forehead only to find it hot and clammy. Omega sighed, “You’re ill.” With concern, Omega quizzed Brit. “Does it hurt to breathe? How long have you been coughing?” Omega nodded as Brit answered. “Such infections are not as serious as they once were, but best to be on the safe side, yes? You must drink a lot of water and juice, Brit.” Brit explained that she had also drank of Ethan’s vitae and Omega responded, “Ethan’s vitae will make you feel better and you must also feed yourself in more traditional ways.”

After inquiring whether Ethan would mind if they helped, all sprung to action. Grr made a warm soup of items from his pack. Brit vaguely recalled packets of items along with a blue enameled mug and a long, intact celery stalk. He poured in water from his canteen. Omega conversed to herself as she diagnosed a classic flu and stated through pursed lips, “Broad spectrum antibiotics.” Grr chopped celery with his KA-BAR knife and added it to the mug. “I do not think you are seriously ill, Brit, but these things can become serious quickly. You must rest. No running around. You must sit, and read, or colour.” Reflecting on gentler times, she said, “Perhaps some embroidery.”

Joah stepped back biting her lip and opened a book. Grr continued to mix the concoction in the mug and placed it into the flames to heat. Omega had offered Brit some antibiotic tablets telling her to discuss them with Ethan before taking them. Brit looked at the tablets thinking they seemed like magic beans. Joah was silent. Omega said, “Joah, look outside. I need you healthy for what is coming. If it becomes necessary, we will do what needs to be done. For now, let us look to mundane solutions.”

All were quiet for a time simply watching Grr work. Omega told Grr, “I will need a list of ingredients for that brew you are making. Ethan will want to know. As do I.” Grr nodded and stirred the liquid. The celery and other items started to swirl in the steaming soup. “I hardly think Ethan will object over a coup of soup, but best to keep him fully informed, don’t you think, Brit?”

Grr said, “Oh. Sure. Is he resting?”

After a coughing fit, Brit rubbed her nose and worried that Ethan would be unhappy with her for being sick. To Grr, she nodded “He will be okay with it. He said fluids, food, and um…onion poultices if I were not better when he woke.”

Omega smiled, “Yes. All good ideas.” Grr listed miso paste, shitaki mushroom, dried seaweed, sesame seeds and small dried prawns along with some fresh celery. Omega added, “Perhaps Ethan will allow one or two cures from this century too.” To Grr, she commended, “A good soup.”

Brit curled up with Denny’s cape in front of the fire and sipped the soup when Grr gave it to her. She enjoyed the salty taste, but realized that salt was all that she could taste. Omega, Faye Li, Joah, and Grr discussed terms for the Japanese people through the ages and all agreed that Celestials was a pleasing term.

Onion poultices as medicinal techniques were discussed. Brit wrinkled her stuffed nose at the mere sound of it and thought that her fine milled soap would never take a scent of such a thing away. Joah suggested, “Or some use eucalyptus.” A vivid picture of a eucalyptus poultice formed in her mind.

Omega agreed that a eucalyptus and menthol after admitting that onion poultices were not so pleasant, which was why they had fallen out of favor. Joah was asked to prepare the former with supplies on hand upstairs. Brit nibbled the soup appreciatively between coughing and sneezes. Omega reassured her, “If you are a good girl and drink lots of soup and juices, and if you rest, you will feel better soon.”

Joah and Faye Li went to the lab to create an inhalant to help sooth Brit’s breathing. Brit inquired whether it would have garlic and explained that Ethan found garlic repulsive. She also indicated that he was grouchy over her sneezes. “Grouchy, is he?” said Omega. Dryly, she smiled and said, “Yes. Well. Your delightful husband will have to learn there are some occasional issues with a mortal wife.” Upstairs, Joah and Faye Li conversed quietly while mixing the ingredients for the inhalant. Brit sipped the rest of the soup and was comforted by Grr as she shivered from time to time before the fire. Brit vaguely recalled Omega saying, “Hello, Jason. Have you come to try to kill someone today or are you just here to chat about the weather?”

Brit blinked slowly as she tried to remember the events. Jason and Omega talked. Grr discussed his soup as Brit shivered by the flames. Brit remembers a scent of peppermint, eucalyptus, and other scents filling the room. She thinks she may have dozed off only waking to Joah’s gentle touch. Using a t-shirt, Joah covered it in the heady scent of the oils mixed to help break up the congestion after testing it on Grr. His exclamation of “It works! It works! Dammit, get it away! For the love of a scent!”

Deciding against the t-shirt, Joah found a piece of flannel. Brit told Joah softly, “Sniffles…and…my ears itch…and my throat feels scratchy.” Joah also noted that Brit’s fever was up. Grr reassured Brit that getting well will take some time. He ensured she was dry and comfortable in front of the flames. Even Jason showed a hint of concern.

Joah placed some of the mixture on the flannel after heating it. Then she knelt by Brit. “Do you mind if I pin this just inside of your dress, Brit? It will help you breathe.” Brit held still while Joah tucked the flannel inside poultice to skin and pinned each side to Brit’s chemise. As her hand touched the flannel, it seemed to heat up again. The strong scent drifted up to Brit’s nose. Joah ensured Brit’s dress was properly arranged.

Brit could not smell the strong scent. She felt exhausted. Joah leaned over and touched her lips to Brit’s forehead lingering a moment with her eyes closed. “The lady was right. You do have an infection.” Brit did not fully comprehend anything other than she felt terrible. Joah explained that Brit would get better, and said that Ethan’s vitae was a natural antibiotic for her of sorts. Brit did not realize that she had started to breath through her nose again. Nor did she realize that, with Joah’s soft check to her forehead, her fever dropped dramatically. And at some point in the night, her fever broke soaking her.

Brit continued to lie on the pillow in front of the fire. Just a few more moments, she thought…then she would go shower and find Ethan. It was a good plan. Her eyes blinked and she slept again waking nearer to when Ethan would wake.

Bite Me Here

As the sun sank beneath the horizon, Ethan’s eyes opened. It mattered not that he lived in a place where others like him could walk boldly in the daylight hours. Old habits die hard and Ethan could never shake the feeling that the smog and darkness could simply clear with a strong blow from the sea and he would be reduced to dust after 1500 years. Even during bleak times, it was a sobering thought. Brit was snuggled against him and both of them were practically swaddled with multiple blankets. When he shifted, she whimpered a protest at the breaking the warm seal around them which allowed some of the night’s coolness to touch her skin. At the sound, Ethan froze for a moment to ensure he was not rousing her from her slumber.

While lying as still as a corpse next to her, Ethan’s thoughts raced replaying the previous evening over in his head. He was curious. Inching down her side, he pressed against her soft, healed flesh feeling the indentations beneath her skin. His eyes widened as he remembered her soft whisper, “Bite me here.” Her fingers had directed his hand to her taunt upper tummy. Naturally, he complied. Brit never made such requests. His fingers pressed again and the memory flooded his mind. Her skin had been damp from the rain and slightly sweaty from trudging through the streets. He had bitten her neck as he shielded her from others on the street and the rain that continued to pour from the sky.

After so many years, Ethan prided himself on having a clear mind but on this evening he could not recall the sequence of events that led them to the hidden room. His wife at one point told him, “Drink me slow.” As he pieced the memory together, he grinned slightly as his fingers continued to trail along the bites. That was said as he drank, or started to drink, while in the street. Licking his lips in the memory, they had moved to the taxi to continue, but she indicated that she was seeking more. “Bite me here.” Was it a telepathic thought or were the words said. He could not remember and her sleeping mind did not respond when he gave it his own silent nudge. Brit only yielded another whimper of protest when more cold air slipped beneath the blankets.

Within the hidden room, he built a fire in the fireplace and waited to be sure that the chimney still could produce a draw to let smoke exit the room. Peeling off wet clothing, the fire warmed skin as it dried garments. “Bite me here,” she said again. He wondered whether it was the first bite to the tummy or the second onto the hip. His fingers traced down her sleeping form until he pressed the area also healed where more indentations had made. The caress made her writhe slightly as she mumbled something still deep in sleep. Ethan had never bitten anyone in either location before and neither yielded much blood. The first spot was unusual. He sipped and felt that he should have heard the sound one made when drinking the dregs of a delicious milkshake. The sweetness of the blood was almost a tease. The second yielded a small, thin vein. The blood was so deoxygenated. He could almost feel the cells crying for air. It reminded him of being human and craving water when there was only honey.

Brit had asked him to drink her slow when still outside. The beast within caused his muscles to bunch and shake as he struggled to comply with the request. Feeling the fire warm his back, Ethan wanted to grab tightly and drink deeply. His fingers had dug deeply into her skin as he forced himself to continue to take sips. Another sound of protest was heard from beneath the blankets and Ethan realized that his fingers were again pressing into her flesh. He had not breathed in years and felt a desire to pull in air to stave the intoxicating feelings. Again he froze in place and once again, she snuggled against him continuing to sleep.

Down her body to her thigh, his fingers wandered. Ethan remembered Brit’s lisped whisper as she said, “Bite me here.” His lips parted slightly and his fangs lengthened at the memory of drinking from her there. The feeling of her skin on his cheek as he kissed her softly until he got to the point where her finger lingered and sunk into her flesh was almost burned into his memory like a branding iron had placed it there. The popping feeling of the artery that filled his mouth with blood caused him to blink as he remembered every moment that he drank the oxygen-rich blood from her thigh. There was no drinking slowly and he found that he could not help but drink deeply until he felt her fingers cool on his cheek. He had to stop. The struggle to break something so desired to save someone so treasured was etched into his memory as well.

Ethan had pulled his fangs from her thigh and could feel the beast scream from within. He grappled her and pulled her roughly to him. Breathless was the only feeling that he could think to describe the moment. He held her protectively and focused on his love for her. It was an odd feeling to protect someone loved from oneself. He stared ahead at the wall behind the flames in the fireplace while pulling his wrist to his lips. Opening a vein, he held it to her lips knowing she needed to heal. Even still, he could not help tasting miniscule droplets from her wrist as she sipped from his. Greed, he thought, the greatest deadly sin. He felt confident that he would never succumb to the beast when his beloved was involved. Kissing her hair, Ethan held Brit until she woke.