To Love A Vampire Is Forever

Elodie

The bell rang once and it echoed through the town. The metallic clang vibrated deep within my chest. It was time.

I wiped my sweaty palms against my dress as Harper and I made our way to the square. There was no escaping the judgment of the reaping.

“I don’t have a good feeling about this,” Harper whined as we walked side by side, following the flow of bodies that all headed to the center of town. She grabbed my arm, yanking me a halt, “we should stay home. No one would notice.”

“I wish that were true, but it’s not.” Disappointment saturated my voice. It was our first official reaping in Spring River after finally receiving the appropriate documentation to move out of one vampire’s territory and enter another. I ignored her plea as I continued to the center of town with harsh words on my lips, “this place isn’t any different than Oakridge.” We would be foolish to think so. “He’s not going to notice two new girls all the way in the back anyways.”

There were rules…and expectations of the chosen. If this vampire is anything like the one in Oakridge, he won’t even bat an eye at us because we’re not rich or noble. We’re peasants and girls like us don’t get chosen. Too skinny and ill behaved.

Harper, taller and younger than myself by a couple years clung to my side as she whispered softly, “I don’t need the attitude, Ellie. I had a dream.” Her confession had my feet stumbling. When was she going to tell me? “You were with him. Your blood stained his mouth.”

Harper’s dreams were never wrong. But it didn’t matter. We were here and there was no turning back.

The square was already filled with people. Lanterns hung from iron hooks, their flames burned bright providing a soft warmth against the chilly night air. The wavering light cast shadows upon people’s faces masking their feelings.

The mixture of emotions might’ve been distorted, but it could be felt. And it was suffocating. I tried to ignore the prodding stares from those that watched as bystanders as Harper and I joined the women who were lined up in rows of eight waiting to be reaped. Harper led us to a row at the back as if that would do me any good if her dream was to come true.

Another loud ring of the bell had me jolting in place. My spine stiff, my chest on fire, my mind racing. I had come here with annoyance for interrupting my day, but now…now I’m here with dread.

The mayor stepped out, front and center. I couldn’t see him over the rows of girls' heads that towered over me in height, but I saw the man who paraded around town on several occasions. His receding hairline, thin curled moustache, and hollow smile. Tonight can’t be any different. “People of Spring River,” he began, his voice carrying easily. “Tonight, as we do every year, we honor our covenant and offer one of our own to our protector, Roman Devereaux.”

Whispers rippled through the crowd. Some in praise of the deal that was struck centuries ago while others spat on the ground displeased with catering to an immortal monster.

I swallowed hard as his name prickled against my skin. It slithered against my tongue as if begging to be spoken. Like I’ve said it before even though this was my first time hearing it.

“The Reaping,” the mayor continued, “is our protection. Our offering. Through our sacrifice, we are spared greater suffering.”

Harper’s fingers dug into my arm threatening to leave little bloody crescents as she neared breaking the skin. This mayor definitely had his speech down, but it was all lies. What were they protecting us from when it was them that we needed the protection from?

“May the chosen one walk in eternal grace,” the mayor finished.

The bell rang a third and final time. It signaled the end of someone’s life, not their eternal grace.

The air changed with the arrival of Spring River’s tormentor. No one dared speak a word in his presence. Oakridge’s vampire, Frederick, had his choice already picked. The name was hastily called and the girl was quickly whisked away. But Roman made it personal.

Weaving around bodies, I dared a glance toward the front to catch a glimpse of him assessing the girls one by one. The sting of rejection was not only clear in their slouched posture, but by the reddened face of their father.

Still not able to get a look at him, an unwanted need itched underneath my skin. Against the nagging thought of ‘don’t do it’, I ignored it and leaned even further around the women in front of me just to catch a glimpse of him. Harper who still clung to my arm violently yanked me back in place, her nails clawed at my skin leaving behind red scratches, littered with tiny little beads of blood that bubbled along the line where she broke the skin.

“Jesus Christ, Harp,” I snapped at her in a hushed whisper as I rubbed the blood away.

In unison the entire town sucked in a breath of surprise. My head frantically shot up expecting to see glares fixated on me for being rude and interrupting the ceremony, but my barely audible argument with Harper wasn’t what sent shockwaves through Spring River.

Roman had broken away from casually walking the rows to abruptly splitting it into two. Row by row, his approach parted the girls like the red sea, right down the middle giving me an unencumbered look at him. Dressed in all black, his tall lithe frame stalked forward. His dark hair was slicked back, but as his head hung low a stray strand fell across his face. My fingers twitched as if to brush it aside. The flames' glow accentuated his features with rigid lines giving him a hardened edge.

When his booted feet stopped in front of me it was as if I were condemned for my sins. A part of me was willing to accept damnation if it was given by him. As if feeling my heavy gaze, his eyes slowly worked up my body before finally meeting my awaiting stare.

One look, one simple glance of his cold gray eyes and the world lurched, slipped out right from underneath me. The weight of his attention wasn’t something a pathetic human could handle. It was heavy and demanding, it crushed my chest and sent a rush of heat through my veins. Unable to withstand the pressure, my eyes darted down to stare at the dirt on the ground rather than at him.

Harper grabbed my hand, squeezing so aggressively that my fingers were probably white from lack of blood circulation. She knew this would happen. She was right. My blood will stain his mouth.

“Elodie,” he hummed in a rich deep voice. My name on his tongue felt wrong. Intimate. As if he had spoken it countless times before.

When I didn't respond to his call, the icy touch of his fingers pressed against the bottom of my chin. With little effort, he forced me to meet his stare. Choking on the heavy lump that got lodged in my throat, I’m rendered speechless.

It took a great effort to force the words from my lips, “how-” But my voice failed as my throat instinctively closed up. I swallowed rapidly, battling against that make believe ball of saliva that threatened to end me. “How do you know my name?” I finally croaked out.

I’m not sure anyone here even knew my name, so how did he?

His jaw tightened as if annoyed with such a pointless question. “I know everyone in this town,” he replied, but the answer didn’t feel right.

Ignoring my speculation, he held out his hand for me to take, for me to accept my position as the offered, the savior to the town. The gesture set everyone into an uproar proving this wasn’t supposed to happen. Proving that the reaping is rigged with sleazy deals and false promises. So why me?

Roman, offended by my lack of submission or the outrage from the townspeople, leaned in close, placing his mouth dangerously close to my racing pulse just beneath the thin skin of my neck, “the whole town is relying on you.” His smirk can be felt more so than seen, “I know you’re not selfish, Ellie.”

As if a prisoner in my own body, I take his hand without a second thought, purely on instinct. His icy fingers quickly latched onto me, leeching away my heat. There was no saying no even if you weren’t meant to be the chosen one. I told myself I made my decision to save the town, to save my sister, but that would be a lie.

I became hypnotized by the monster that looked like a man, by the vampire who, when he said my name it created a flutter deep in my gut. With my fate accepted, he pulled me forward and Harper’s hand slipped away. Her sobbed cry went unheard to everyone but me. Her anguish will forever haunt me.

Roman’s voice cuts through the static, “the choice is made.”

The mayor surged forward, his words spoken low meant only for Roman to hear. “Lord Roman, surely there’s been a mistake, she isn’t-” The mayor’s eyes glowered at me taking in my cheap dress and plain appearance.

A wave of power radiated off Roman as he stepped closer to the mayor who immediately became frozen, the color quickly drained from his face at the closeness of Roman’s sharp teeth. “I dare you to say it, Matthew. There is no mistake unless you’re refusing my choice.” He took a calculated step forward forcing the mayor back. “Are you refusing me?”

My heart hammered so loudly against my ribcage I was certain everyone could hear it. What would happen if Roman were to be refused? Would Spring River…disappear after the slaughter of everyone who occupied it? Forgotten and never spoke of, turned into a cautious tale to force compliance?

“No…no, I’m not refusing.” The man cowered away, head down, hunched forward in mid bow, “whoever you find pleasing, Sir.”

With no one else to stand in our way, Roman led me away from the burdens of the village. Forced to become his servant.

Not again, a voice whispered in my head. My voice. Speaking words that didn’t make sense, but could be felt deep in my gut.

Roman’s hand never let go as he led me away from the square. His grip was steady, gentle as if that somehow made it better. Even as I stumbled over my own feet as I desperately tried to match his pace, he didn’t slow as led me through darkened streets of the town. The only light came from lanterns that were left on doorsteps or inside on windowsills that illuminated empty houses with an eerie glow.

What felt like an eternity later, my feet getting increasingly sore with every step, I blurted out, “where are we going?” I knew where we were. Bigger houses, pristine lawns. These were the homes of the elite and noble, but why walk through here?

“You already know the answer to that, Elodie.”

“Valemor Manor, but-” I said the name of his home purely out of memory, but my mouth stumbled over the rest of my words merely from shock at recalling something I have no recollection of knowing. Harper and I were in Spring River for only six months and I knew nothing of the vampire that protected this town. I didn’t even know his name until I heard it spoken moments ago from the mayor’s mouth, so why did memories, fuzzy and stuck on the tip of tongue, tickle my brain.

Questions filled my head taking up space that other more dire things needed, like rationale and survival instincts. But I was either too afraid to ask or terrified of the answers he’d give me.

Lost in thought, trying to give reason to the sense of familiarity, I relied purely by his hand to lead the way. We finally came to a stop in front of an elegant, dark stained carriage pulled by two jet black horses that wore blood red masks over their heads. Their hoofs kicked impatiently at the gravel road, which had the coachman tug at the reins demanding obedience.

His hand slipped from mine, an unspoken request was felt between us as he opened the carriage door. Get in. A burst of heat from the cabin brushed against my skin, luring me to obey.

“There’s no changing your mind, Elodie. Get inside.” He paused as he caught my glare from his harsh words. “It’s cold out here,” he added as if he was concerned with my wellbeing, but it’s probably some vampire thing? Coldness makes the blood sluggish, thick and tasteless.

“What about my sister?”

“She’ll be fine. I’ll look after her if it will make you feel better.” His tone was sarcastic, but for some reason I believed him even though it would be ridiculous for him to look after his newly acquired servant’s sister.

As I climbed the step to enter the carriage, I swore I heard him mutter ‘good girl’ under his breath. The intimate gesture didn’t feel right as I faced a death sentence. My time was limited. How long did the other women survive before he drained them dry?

Another question I was too afraid to ask because I was too terrified to hear the answer.