Blood Ties (NaNoWriMo 2015)

Thirty

I walked off the dance floor in a daze, met by Keith who handed me a chocolate cupcake. "I promise there is no blood in this."

"Thanks," I mumbled and I took of a bite to be polite, but the pastry just tasted like sandpaper.

"Ember, are you feeling okay?" Keith asked me and I heard concern in his voice. "You look sort of pale."

"Says the vampire," I heard Doc and turned to see the short, elderly-looking man popping up at Keith's elbow and laughing. "Hello Miss Hawthorn, you're head is feeling better yes?"

"Perfect," I replied as I scanned the crowd. I needed to warn Damon, Richard knew the truth and there was no way he'd keep quiet, unless of course, it suited him. Already I could see a hundred difference situations playing out, all in his favor. Damon would lose his place as the leader of Robur, throwing it into chaos as Johnathan died. There would be anarchy, maybe a chance to cause a civil war. Or maybe he'd step in, offering to be some kind of savior while further discrediting Damon and throwing him, his brother and allies out into the cold. I didn't know much about vampire life outside of the Twelve covens, but was willing to bet everything that it was terrible. Crime-riddled, dogging the burning sun, struggling to get blood, maybe having to resort to murder to feed...

I felt my dinner rise up in my throat a very unwelcome image of Damon came into my head. His fangs were bared, blood staining his fangs and lips, black hair mattered, once fine clothing ratty and destroyed. The warmth, the kindness in his blue eyes was gone, erased by a mad hunger and desperate need for survival. I can't let that happen! I thought, throat tightening. I can't. I began to walk through the room, listening to Doc and Keith chat. They asked me some questions, but I didn't give more than a one or two word response.

Finally I made up an excuse about needing some air and then assured Doc that I was feeling perfectly fine, made a beeline for the French Doors on the other side of the banquet hall and ran outside into the humid Florida evening. The sticky air felt good on my skin after being passed around the arms of vampires. I walked about the cobblestone pathway in the gardens, taking note of the various statues and lush green plants. "Okay think," I whispered to myself as I turned sharply into a little hedge maze. "Richard knows, but has no real proof, I thought it was a birthmark for most of my life, I can maintain that is it. It could just be a game of my word against his." My mind flew into a very negative direction. "But they're vampires," I reminded myself. "Would they be able to tell the difference? Well it's technically a medical thing," I told myself. "Maybe Damon could convince Doc to lie for us..."

I continued along the maze, taking turns and twists without much regard for where I was going. I didn't care, I was too worked up, too worried to care. This was not good. Could Richard be the one who is after me? I suddenly thought to myself and I leaned against the hedge, nearly knocked off my feet by the thought. Crutstallos was the second-largest coven, he already had power, but he'd proven he really did not care for Damon. Perhaps this was his first attempt to unite the covens, sabotage the up and coming leaders when they were still weak and sweep in via a Savior act. I started walking again, my steps faster and faster as the gears in my head started turning. "His coven was based in LA," I said to myself, my voice mixing with the crickets that chirped in the grass. "Damon that his family had owned an oil company, or they'd invested in one, whichever it was. He personally was rolling in the dough, he could certainly afford to hire people to do his dirty work. He was smart enough to pay in cash so there would be no paper trail."

I took another turn and found a gazebo with a little breakfast table in it. I collapsed onto it, hands shaking and knees like rubber tubing. Richard defiantly made the most sense, but we had no proof. Just a theory and the one partial piece of evidence would did have would cause even more problems for us than solutions. Ugh. I rested my head on the cool white metal framing. The angle I was at made the metal press painfully into my forehead but it was a welcome distraction. If I thought more about this Richard problem I'd probably panic.