House Wyndham Vampires: Half Light Part 7

Once the noise disappeared I ran to Craft.

"No-" Jared said. "You can't-"

"Jared, get me towels and warm water. Now!"

He hesitated only a minute to say, "It's Ghoul's blood, Carly. And he's Michel's Ghoul. Watch yourself." Jared ran up the stairs and I hoped he was going up to get the things I needed.

I was careful to turn Craft on his back. The neck wound was ugly-the a.s.shole had ravaged the flesh. It looked like something had taken a saw to it and chewed it. That could have been my neck. This could be me...

"Thank you," I heard myself say as I leaned over him. He was handsome in a completely different way than Brandon. And his blood...G.o.d the smell of his blood...

It glistened under the lights and I watched in fascination as a small stream of it pumped its way out with every beat of his heart.

It smelled...so...good...

I wasn't going to be able stop as my stomach growled and hunger uncoiled itself deep inside my chest. I leaned in closer and closer until my lips were against his warm, hot skin...

The blood was there, flowing from the wound. A fount of rich, dark, life...

"Carly!"

Jared's voice startled me back to myself-I'd been lost in dreams of covering that fountain with my mouth and drinking deep- A hand on my shoulder. It wasn't a rough tug, but it was strong, and I blinked and pulled back. I could feel something on my lips and licked them. I'd gotten close enough they'd brushed against the bloodied skin.

The taste exploded on my tongue. It reminded me of the first time I'd eaten a chocolate bar. Father had forbidden me so many things, always with the excuse that I would never miss what I had never had.

But I'd seen other kids eating it. And I'd seen it on television-during those days while Father and Jared slept-when I snuck in the entertainment room and put on the headphones to watch Cartoon Network.

I'd wanted chocolate so bad that I'd convinced one of the staff to get me a bar. And it had to be Hershey's, 'cause that's what the kids in the commercials had been eating.

The excitement of taking something forbidden was almost as delightful as the taste. And running my tongue over my lips to taste Craft's blood- "Carly, you have to focus on me. Please."

I did focus on Jared and he looked...worried. "What..."

"You can't drink from Craft, understand? He's Michel's ghoul, which means he belongs to Michel. Michel owns him."

I felt a little high. I'd been sustaining myself on bagged blood for so long I forgot what fresh blood was like. But this was... "Why is it so good?"

"Because it's a Ghoul's blood, Carly. Please, you have to look at me."

"I am looking at you. And I feel..."

"Oh G.o.d-how much did you drink?"

"Drink? Nothing. But I did taste."

He looked relieved and his shoulders lowered. "Oh thank G.o.d. Carly...weren't you paying attention during the Ghouls cla.s.s?"

"Newp." I reached out to touch is hair. It was so silky and soft.

"Well you better listen to me right now," And he shook me enough so that it hurt and I was focusing harder. He moved his grip to my upper arms. "Never ever drink from someone else's Ghoul."

"Jared-that's just stupid. You can't own another person."

"He's not a person anymore-he's a Ghoul."

I turned and looked down at him. Craft's chest was heaving up and down quickly, as if he was panting for breath. "He's dying, Jared. We can't let him die."

"Honestly, Michel's not going to care. He's from the old school-where Ghouls are nothing more than property to do with as you want. If Craft dies here-" he shrugged. "Then we have to dispose of the body."

What he told me disgusted me and I tried to pull away. When he wouldn't let go I locked my gaze with his. "Let me go. We can't let him die-" I frowned. "Do they not regenerate? Like us?"

"Jesus Carly," he sighed as he released me and stepped back. "Did you listen to any of that cla.s.s?"

"No."

"Ghouls are technically human. They can move in the daylight with no ill effects. They can eat and drink food. What makes them different is the vampire blood in their system that stops them from aging. A blood bond works as a way to link vampire minds and hearts together-but a Ghoul bond-has more of a dominating effect."

I could hear Craft's heartbeat slowing. He was going to bleed out. "Jared I-"

"You have to listen to me Carly. Ghouls cannot age. Craft will be the age he was made for as long as he can drink vampire blood-any vampire blood. And depending on how long he's been a Ghoul dictates how often. If he's young he probably has to have a drink every five days or so. If he's older, then it's longer. Father once had a Ghoul that was over two hundred years old and drank once a year."

I frowned. "He did? How come I never met him?"

"Because he died before you were brought to him."

"Died?"

"He betrayed Father, Carly. Father had trusted him with his own life. And Strauss, the Ghoul, was easily bought by a rival house's blood. Father locked him in the bas.e.m.e.nt and waited for that year to be up. He denied him blood."

I put a hand to my face. "What happened?"

"A month after he needed the drink, Strauss' body reverted to the age he really was."

"But-no one lives to two hundred-"

"You understand the fate of Ghouls. The body aged, turned to dust, and still rests on the ground of the bas.e.m.e.nt of the house."

I didn't want Craft turning to dust. That is-if he was so much older than his own human lifespan. There was no knowing how old he truly was by a simple look-I could only know that truth if I tasted more of him. "We can't let that happen, Jared. He needs vampire blood to live."

"He's not our Ghoul-"

"Please," I was willing to beg at this point as I looked into his eyes. "He saved me, Jared. If Craft hadn't of stepped in and prevented Michel from attacking me-"

And to my relief, my brother seemed to understand. He lowered his shoulders and sighed. "You're right. He did save you." He looked past me at the unconscious man. "He was certainly a diplomat with Michel."

I had to agree. Twice I'd watched this man diffuse Michel-and that was no easy feat. Craft had talent-and seemed to be in place as a Ghoul.

As a servant.

I made a decision then to learn what I could about Ghouls, and understand more of their existence. I knew they were thought of as little more than floor mats. Blood Dolls had more rights than Ghouls. And Blood Dolls could be influenced and sent back into society.

But what of Ghouls?

I moved to my knees and brought my wrist up to bite into my flesh. I'd become quite deft at picking out the vein and piercing it just right with the tip of my tooth. Feeding Brandon had been easy enough- Brandon. Oh no. What time was it?

"Carly-what are you doing?"

The surprised tone in Jared's voice stopped me and I looked over and up at him as he stood just behind me. "What? I'm going to help him."

"No-you can't." He moved around me and then knelt beside me. He looked-sad. "The rules state no other vampire may feed a Ghoul that is not theirs."

"But he's going to die-"

"No, he's not. Because I'm going to save him. Please," he reached out and put a hand on my shoulder. "Carly-I don't think Michel's going to care. But I'd rather him smell my blood than yours."

"But will you be punished?"

Jared looked worried. "I-I don't know. I know that I owe Craft for protecting you because you are my charge. But I am also bound by the same laws. I'll have to take a chance."

I didn't want Jared punished. I didn't want Craft punished. What I wanted at that moment was for someone to kick the c.r.a.p out of Michel.

I knew he was little more than a spoiled boy-yeah a 500 year old spoiled little boy-but through it all he'd kept his distance from me. I'd had rare contact with him, and it had always been in the company of my Father.

Michel had acted with respect and manners, and Dockal had remained outside. Even if she was Michel's Childe, my Father had no tolerance for her. But Michel was the link the two houses needed to form an alliance to unite the remaining houses. It was that united front that helped destroy the rogues.

There were always those with voices they believed were more worthy than authority, and my Father wanted to prevent the random making of vampires again. It was an honor to be among the Brethren. And it was something that shouldn't be taken lightly.

I knew this.

I knew it all in some way. But I'd always believed it was something beyond me. Intrigue I wasn't supposed to care about in my lifetime because it dealt with turning and feasting and bloodletting- And I was just a simple childe. A young vampire with a destiny.

But...in a few short days things were s.h.i.+fting. Had s.h.i.+fted. I had this rush of emotion inside when I thought of Brandon. A rush that was entangled with my blood inside of him. And now as I watched Jared bite into his own wrist and pressed the wound against Craft's lips, I realized I worried for this man's safety as well.

A Ghoul.

A stranger who'd risked his own life to protect mine...even when Jared couldn't.

Craft stirred, his legs s.h.i.+fting. His eyes remained closed as he reached up and grabbed at Jared's outstretched arm and drank hungrily from the wound. I moved to the side and watched the wound in Craft's neck mist and close, as the blood worked its magic inside of his body just as it had in Brandon's body.

Brandon.

"Carly-" Jared said as he pulled his arm from Craft's grasp and then reached out to pin the flailing Ghoul against the floor. "You should go-get to the game-or what's left of it. It's close to eleven thirty."

But I was watching Craft, fascinated as his body arched under Jared's. "What-what's wrong?"

"Nothing. This is normal for a Ghoul."

"Is he in pain?"

"Yes. But my blood is healing him. It'll take an hour or so but he'll be better again, and up on his feet."

"Why-why is he in pain?" Oh no...when she'd given Brandon her blood, had he been in pain?

"Because I'm not his Maker," Jared said, still holding down the writhing young man. Abruptly Craft stopped moving and closed his eyes. "My blood will heal him-but my blood didn't make him a Ghoul. Michel's did. So Michel's blood is fighting my blood for domination. Michel's blood will win-he's stronger-and I'm not a Ghouler. But Craft'll be all right." Jared stood and pulled his sleeve down over his now smooth wrist.

"Should we put him in the bed?"

"No. Ghouls aren't allowed beds. He can sleep on the floor."

My jaw dropped. "Not allowed beds? What the h.e.l.l kind of medieval logic is this? Ghouls are still people-"

"No. They're not, Carly." Jared turned a tired face at me. Circles hung under his eyes from the blood loss to Craft and I could see the stress from having to cater to both me and Michel was already wearing him down. "You need to face that fact right now. Ghoul's are our own brand of leeches. When they're ghouled, they have no will. They are servants to the blood and will do what they're told."

I started to protest, not wanting to believe the young man on the floor was anything but a mindless servant-'cause he sure as h.e.l.l hadn't sounded like one, the way he handled Michel-but I stopped.

There wasn't time for this. "I need to go find Brandon."

"Yeah. Get going. I'll...clean the mess up here."

I reached out and touched Jared and squeezed his arm. He smiled down at me and winked. "Go on...get. Go learn about football and cheerleaders."

I ran up the stairs, but paused at the top. I looked back down at Craft as he lay sleeping on the floor and decided at that moment that he wasn't going to be just some Ghoul slave to me.

I brushed my teeth, brushed my hair, grabbed a coat and my bag and ran out the door. "I'm taking your car!"

Finding the football field wasn't hard. Finding parking was another matter.

I found a spot beside a mini-van and a SUV in the very back and expertly slipped the BMW between them. After setting the alarm I started running to the back of the stadium, excitement kicking in when I saw the huge lights and the milling people in the stands.

And then I heard them.

All of them.

Hearts beating. Pumping. Voices a symphony in my head. And I could smell them...

So many of them. I stopped and closed my eyes, taking in a deep breath. Why breathe in the thing that was making me crazy? Making my mouth water with thirst?

Because if I got used to it-then my hope was I wouldn't smell it anymore. Or that was my theory. But the deeper I inhaled the more concentrated the smell of blood became. And I inhaled even deeper.

Until- I smelled...him.

I knew his blood with my eyes closed. He was there, in front of me, just past the lights of the stands. His heart was racing. Pumped full of adrenaline. He was in the game and he was...excited.

Maybe if I just held on to that one line-that one thread to Brandon I could do this. I could lose myself in this sea of human lives and just be one of them. I kept to that thought as I allowed my blood in him to pull me forward.

I moved around people as I entered-the ticket agent no longer at their booth as the game was nearly finished. If you were coming in now what did it matter?

Refusing to breathe in deep anymore I focused on the thin line that connected me to him as I moved forward with the crowd. Suddenly the field was in front of me, the bleachers to either side as the night became day under those lights.