Escaping Christian

2: The Male Mind

Tame Impala - Feels Like We Only Go Backwards

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Men.

The opposite-sex, males, objects of desire. Just sex. As a vampire, it wasn't easy finding a partner to shake the sheets with. Sex with a human was just too... Stressful for me. It had its appeal, obviously but I didn't want to bite every single man I wanted to bed.

Because of what I am, most male vampires, well the slimy ones I've happened across, seem to see me and think, "Oh! Another vampire! I'm one, she's one, that's fair enough reason to fṳck!" That's actually a quote. I actually overheard that conversation years ago.

Then you have people like me. Protégé's. And people like Christian, a maker. You could just about see the invisible thread between a protégé and maker. They think they have some sort of claim to you; sure they make a vampire but I disagree with it completely. There are usually only three common types of relationships between them: the first is worship. They see them as their saviour, their parent or sibling figure. Second is a lover. Like my best friends' and their husbands. They made them into a vampire long after they fell in love. And last is a hater. A protégé made into a vampire by force causing them to despise what they are and whoever did it to them.

And then there's me. I fall into a completely different category. I felt nothing for Christian other than annoyance. He was a thorn in my ass and I couldn't reach it to take it out.

"...Chelsea?"

Loosening my grip on the hammer, I looked down at the mangled piece of metal and met Tim's eye. He looked between me and the metal in my hand and sighed. "Something wrong?"

"Nope," I forced a shaky smile. "The rocks are a bit tougher around these parts, I might have to get another one."

"Okay, dear... I'm going for the day do you want anything before I leave?"

"I'm good but thank you. Have a good evening." I replied watching him walk away with a shaking head.

He knew I was on the odd side but he never commented on it which I truly appreciated. I mean, who would honestly stand there and not question how I crushed a piece of metal in the palm of my hand? Not me that's for sure.

I sat down against the wall of the tunnel and sighed. It was hotter in here today than it usually was. Wiping the back of my palm against my forehead, I reached for my towel and wiped the back of my neck. I was glad we could get away with wearing shorts and a t-shirt down here but only when nobody was around. Didn't want to get a kick in the ass for being disrespectful. And even so, I always brought a pair of jeans with me just in case.

Christian had thrown me out of sorts since the day he got here and I hated myself for letting him. After that night he made himself known, the first thing I did - the morning after because both Kate and I had a head banging hangover - I called Evie.

"You know it's 2am?" She'd croaked over Skype. "Anna has school in the morning."

"Well, I'm not calling you for your seven year old's opinion am I?"

Evie's hand rubbed over her wayward red hair before she gently lay her head onto her palm. "Then what's up? You look terrible, were you out last night? What time is it over there?" She yawned.

"It's ten o'clock and Christian's in Cairo."

That woke her up. Although Amy was the one both Evie and I would call if there was a problem to think about, she wasn't the fighter. Evie was the fighter. The one that came up with both the solutions and the war strategy.