Tudor Rose [BoyxBoy]

Chapter 15 - Thirst

"Reckless, misguided, foolish behavior," the Headmistress spat at the seven of them standing before her desk. "Any one of you could have been killed or caused an even greater problem. Whose idea was this?"

Bastian looked toward Adali, who was ready to confess when Michael stepped forward and said, "It was my idea, Headmistress. The others were only following my lead."

"He's lying to protect me, Headmistress," Adali said to Bastian's surprise. Elizabeth narrowed her eyes.

"I'm not inclined to believe either of you," she said. "Princess Adali, with your elevated status in the Hohenzollern family, it would be best if you kept yourself out of potentially scandalous situations, especially ones that risk your life. Lead by example—,"

"Is that what they told you when you went into battle against the Spanish Armada?" Michael said. Elizabeth stood up and slammed her palms on the desk in fury.

"And you, Dracula boy, are nothing special so how dare you speak to me like an equal. I don't care whose ridiculous idea it was to go and hunt a rogue vampire, but it will be you on stable duty for the next four weeks. You can report there tomorrow and they shall have work for you to do."

"Headmistress that isn't fair," said Henri. "We all deserve to be punished."

Bastian's brow furrowed and he wished the French boy would stop talking.

"You will all be given additional writing assignments by Professor Borgia. See him after class tonight," said Elizabeth. "And don't be late for the assembly, or I will have your heads."

Before Bastian could leave the office with the rest of them, the Headmistress had called him back. He shut the door behind him. "Yes?" he asked.

"Have a seat," she said, gesturing to the chair across from her as she sat down herself. Bastian sat, growing more uneasy with every passing moment. "It seemed you have come into your birthright, correct?"

Bastian only stared back at her and finally nodded his head, having assumed the question to be rhetorical considering she already knew the answer.

"Tell me, what happened on your little hunting expedition that encouraged such a transformation." She adjusted her red spectacles and folded her hands in front of her mouth, squinting her eyes at him inquisitively. Bastian wished to tell her nothing, as even though she might have been the Headmistress that each of the pureblood families entrusted their children to, she was the head of House Tudor, and therefore a rival of the Hohenzollerns. He had no reason to trust her and she had no reason to ask this question.

"I've been told discussing the evolution is not polite conversation between purebloods, Headmistress," said Bastian with his most charming smile. Although a pureblood was unable to tell another pureblood how to earn their fangs, they could discuss the transformation with others who already had them. This was not a law, but some instinctive rule that could not be broken.

"This is not about you or I, Bastian, this is because frankly I don't believe the story you seven have told me. It seems rather unlikely that a group of first years was able to track, hunt, and kill a rogue vampire who had previously evaded both pureblood forces and the Van Hellsing organization, and your evolution does not seem to fit anywhere in that story. So, I'm asking you to explain what series of events led to your need for self-harm."

Bastian swallowed hard, he was beginning to choke. He had not prepared a lie to tell anyone and the truth was out of the question. Staring into her golden brown eyes, he had never felt more like the prey of some serpent, a naïve child before a seasoned monarch.

"Dmitri was hurt," Bastian found himself saying. "We omitted this so that we would not seem weak or as though we had put ourselves in real danger. When I saw him suffering, I cut my wrist to feed him my blood so that he might heal faster. I didn't yet know, of course, that one must willingly shed one's own blood to become a full vampire."

Elizabeth's expression did not change, but Bastian felt a sense of relief as he was sure his lie would pass. He regained his confidence, pushing back his hair from his eyes and holding back the sigh building in his chest.

"You may go," said Elizabeth. Bastian stood and bowed slightly before leaving the office.

In the hall on his way to first class he passed someone who had not yet become a vampire and his senses were lit up with the scent of her blood. He stopped and turned to look at her and found her looking back at him as well. She had long dark hair and bright green eyes that shined behind round spectacles. Her cheeks were pink and her lips slightly parted in a gasp when their eyes met. The hunger Bastian felt was overwhelming and the idea of burying his fangs in her pale throat took over his thoughts until the girl quickly turned and walked away.

Bastian shook himself before realizing how aroused he had been by the scent of her blood. Before becoming a vampire, he had never taken interest in anyone, and now it was as if a whole new world of sex and hunger and thirst was ruling his mind. He went quickly to the dining hall where blood donors were kept around the clock to satisfy student needs.

These donors were routinely scouted and taken from the world of London degenerates. They were mindless cattle but they were treated well, fed nicely, and given a place to live far better than what they had ever experienced before. Bastian bit into what would have likely been a prostitute, sucking from her wrist until the monitor tapped his shoulder to stop him. However, he could not stop. He was sucking much too hard, but the experience was so euphoric, so filling that he stopped thinking of anything else. He felt his teeth tear at her flesh and heard her scream, but it was good because he was getting more blood this way. Then he felt his back hit the wall hard. Everyone in the dining hall was staring at him. Two vampire monitors had thrown him off the prostitute and one of them was helping her now as she convulsed on the ground.

Bastian fled the hall but he felt eyes on him the entire way out. His shirt was drenched in blood. He burst threw the doors of the palace and flew into the sky. The worst part, he thought, was that all he wanted was to do it again.