Hollow Immortal

The Happy One

Several months had passed but Vlad had barely said a word since his father's death. He was the voivode now and he'd not yet ceased the search for his father's assassin. However, what they had gathered was that the man was a Turk but it was not yet established whether he'd been following orders or not. A meeting had been set up with the sultan but he'd simply expressed his condolences and claimed to have no knowledge of any plot to kill the the voivode. This did nothing to sate Vlad's thirst for revenge, Caine knew that, sooner or later, he was bound to do something reckless and he wouldn't be able to stop him.

Vlad had shut himself away in his grief so Caine stood alone, in the light of the rising moon, with Cneajna outside her husband's tomb. Her vacant eyes were fixed on the locked mausoleum doors, into which the crest of the Draculesti was carved. He could see her thinking of every memory she'd shared with him. Memories she could only enjoy on her own now. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and she let herself be pulled into a gentle, comforting hug before she crouched to put the white lilies she'd brought on the stairs to the mausoleum. Caine was about to start walking away from his friend's sepulchre but Cneajna stayed, tears rolled down her cheeks now. Her hand rested, delicately on her bulging stomach.

"I wish he could be here with us," she said softly.

He wiped her tears away with his thumbs and offered her a sad smile, "As do I."

She shook her head, "No, I mean I wish he could be here tonight. To meet his child."

Caine frowned and glanced down at her hand. His eyes widened.

                             ***

Cneajna was weakening quickly, her grip on his hand had loosened considerably. She'd lost an unusual amount of blood and there was still no sign of the ordeal being over anytime soon. Caine wiped the sweat from her brow and glanced at the maid at the foot of her bed who shook her head.

"No more," Cneajna breathed, "I can't."

"You have to," Caine whispered to her.

"I am too weak," she said, "I need to rest."

Her speech was slurred and her eyes fluttered, she fought to keep them open but her breathing was laboured and her pulse was slowing rapidly. She was still hemorrhaging, if it went on any longer she'd die. Her eyes closed and Caine shook her.

"Cneajna!" he shouted and she opened her eyes a crack, "You have to do this."

She nodded but she was too weak. It seemed to him that the child was lying the wrong way and the midwife was doing everything she could to right it but nothing seemed to be working. She leaned over to the maid who then, swiftly, rushed to Caine's side to whisper in his ear.

"They're not going to be make it."

"To hell with that!" Caine hissed, "They will."

"I..." Cneajna's voice was faint and raspy, "Leave it..."

"Abso-bloody-lutely not," Caine replied, a little more harshly than he'd planned, "can you two keep your mouths shut?"

Both the maid and the midwife nodded. Caine rolled up his sleeves and placed his hand on Cneajna's forehead when panic entered her eyes. He was preparing for what would be one of the most difficult things he'd ever done. Cneajna shook her head profusely as Caine turned her wrist upwards. He pressed his lips to her skin and placed a soft kiss to her wrist before biting down as gently as he could. He felt his control slipping as the fresh blood touched his tongue but he forced the urge down. She arched her back and tried to pull away. The maid and midwife stared in wide-eyed disbelief at him, the maid looked as if she would faint. He kept a firm hold on Cneajna's wrist while he did the same thing to his own wrist. He pressed his wrist to hers and their blood mingled. It must have burned her because she cried out and tears squeezed themselves between her lashes as he began to recite the words to the first blood binding he'd ever done on a living person. He didn't really need to say the words out loud but it was more for his own reassurance than anything else. Once the incantation had been recited he gritted his teeth as their life forces combined. He felt her heart beating ever faster in his own chest and her agony grasped him. All that added to his effort to hold back the magic that would turn her. He felt a thick, sticky liquid running over his top lip. His own blood dripped onto the sheet beside Cneajna. A single drop, darker and thicker than hers.