Smother - Sire #1 (Thursday Updates)

Chapter 9 - Part 1

The waiting was the worst. The room I was still confined to was too small to pace so I had to make do with tossing and turning on the small bed. It was so mind numbingly boring.

It didn't help that I felt like a bus had driven over and then backed up over me for good measure. My body was covered in bruises and my hand was healing but still tender.

Would it be so bad to die and end the nightmare I had been living since I had woken up chained with no idea how I had gotten there? I was torn between wanting the easier way out of the hellhole I'd been living but I still waited hoping that I didn't develop a temperature.

Maybe it was the fear of the pain that kept me hoping I hadn't been infected. There was no way to know for sure what was keeping me hopeful that I wouldn't experience an agonizing death. For Silas to tell me how bad it was, left me with no doubt that it was really bad.

With little to do I found myself thinking about him, more and more. It was definitely unwanted, I didn't want to think about him at all. Why on earth would I be thinking about him anyway? He had been so cruel to me at times, but there had been fleeting moments where he had shown me some resemblance of mercy.

Was my mind so warped that I was allowing myself to be moved by the slightest act of kindness, so slight it could be interpreted as something else entirely?

With so much time on my hands I kept cycling through the memories of him. Starting with how he had gotten to me drink some blood that he forced from his mouth into mine. My stomach did something strange and I put my hand to the flat surface. But in the same breath I could feel the pain and hear the sound of the whip against my flesh.

How on earth could I feel anything for him other than disdain or hatred?

But no amount of reasoning with myself changed how I was starting to see him and I knew I was in trouble.

This whole situation was bad enough without feeling something for the guy who had tormented me from the start of this ordeal.

That night I tossed and turned, dreams of Silas kept me unsettled. The next morning I wasn't running a temperature and I was ready to get out of the small confined room. I wanted to get back to training so I wouldn't have time to think about anything else other than my own survival.

I was led back to my room after the doctor gave me the all clear. Down the hall two doors down I saw the brush cut Sire who had been pinned to the floor by the Scav. He walked toward me as I halted outside the door to the my room.

"You saved me," he stated. His eyes held mine.

I don't think I had ever spoken to another Sire before.

"Thank you." His gratitude was spoken in a whisper.

His brush with death had been close.

"You're welcome," I said, not comfortable in the role of hero. "We had to take him out."

He nodded. "I owe you."

He extended his hand to shake mine. I allowed his hand to envelop mine.

"Brett."

Brush cut Sire finally had a name.

"Avery," I said, as I shook his hand.

Saying my name, reminded me of the human I had been. Before all this had happened. I was worlds away from the shy librarian who had been so naive to the brutal world I existed in now.

"We all owe you our lives."

Honestly, it had just been pure luck that the Scav had fallen on the sharp edges of the broken bottle. It wasn't like I had out maneuvered him, or even contemplated a way to kill him. It had been survival mode that had played out.

He released my hand.

I watched as he headed back to his room and I shuffled into mine. My body was still aching from the injuries I had sustained in the fight. I didn't know how any Sire could do this type of thing day in and day out. It was pretty sad that this was my life now.

There would be no husband, no kids, no family. It wasn't like I had ever wanted to get married or even have kids but the reality that I would never have those things or the normal life I had taken for granted was difficult to accept.

I don't know what made me think about all of that. Had it just taken speaking my name out loud? Was that all it had taken to put all these regrets in motion?

I sat down on my bed and studied the glass of blood that was on the table beside my bed. I didn't want to hunger for it but there was no fighting the cravings.

It was only when I was half way through drinking the blood did I suddenly question where the blood came from?

It tasted different to the way Silas' blood had tasted, a vampire. Did that mean this blood was from humans? I didn't like how that made me feel. Was the life source of one keeping me alive? It was a very heavy thought.

I still had so many questions and very little answers.

But when the hunger took hold, it didn't matter where the blood had come from. I drank it all before setting down the glass once I was done.

I stared at the object trying to work through the guilt with the need to survive. My parents. I couldn't jeopardize their welfare. Just thinking of them made me incredibly sad and I swallowed the emotion. There was no room for that here.

If I loved them, I would ensure this life never touched theirs. I had no doubt that they would follow through with the threat if I didn't do as I told.

I sighed as I pulled my knees up and rested my chin on my knees.

After a while I dragged myself through a shower and got changed before bed time. Like the night before I tossed and turned, conflicted over my past life and the one I was living now.

When I left the bathroom I stopped. Silas stood waiting for me.

To see him after all the thoughts I'd been wrestling made me very self conscious. He didn't miss anything, would he able to tell?

I experienced that same funny feeling in my stomach. I remember someone calling it butterflies. It was the only way to describe the unwanted feeling.

"Silas," I said, I wished I hadn't sounded so breathless.

"Avery." The way his voice wrapped around my name made the fluttery feeling feel like a gale force wind.

"Why are you here?" I asked. It wasn't like he needed my permission to come into my room. He did as he pleased. I had no rights here. He was the one who had reminded me of that time and time again.

He studied me. "How are you feeling?"

I frowned. That was the first time he had ever asked me that question. But then it occurred to me had just spent over twenty four hours in quarantine. He wasn't asking about the injuries I had sustained. He wanted to know that I wouldn't become the enemy.

"I'm here, aren't I?" I studied him. "If I wasn't okay, I wouldn't be here."

He nodded. Then he did something strange. He moved closer until he stood just in front of me.

I was captivated, unable to look away as I waited to see what he was going to do.

"You should have been infected." His words soft spoken.

I shrugged. "Maybe I was just lucky."

It was laughable if I considered where I was and what I was being forced to do. I didn't feel very lucky.

It just occurred to me that brush cut Sire, Brett, hadn't been infected and I was pretty sure he had also been exposed to a fair amount of the infected blood. "The other guy didn't get infected."

Silas reached for the hand I had injured. His finger traced the red scars on my palm. "He didn't have open wounds like you did."

I swallowed as I studied his face, his concentration on my hand. My skin tingled.

Then he stopped and released my hand.

"You need to be in training tomorrow." His voice his usual cold tone, the one I was used to. I stood and watched as he left, closing the door behind him.

I looked down at my open palm where he had traced my cuts. My skin still felt his touch.