Era of Greed [✔ COMPLETE] (Chrim Chronicles #1)

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Loreen Fortier

It'd been over a month since my heart stopped beating. I failed to remember my first few days as a vampire, no matter how hard I tried. Cyril said it was normal. He compared it to humans not remembering their infant years. It was funny how he compared the vampire life cycle to that of a human one. Unless he was offering me something juicy from his hairy boob instead of these bland blood bags, I failed to see the resemblance.

"If you don't want to go back to the Reverie, everybody will understand," Demetra Fortier said. I detected pity in her tone.

In the first weeks of my transformation Aunt Demi couldn't even hug me without being disgusted by my cold body. A few times she had tried to plaster my pale face with makeup, to disguise the vampire and return the illusion of her living witch niece, sobbing loudly as she brushed layers of bronzer on my face and neck.

"I need to learn to control my nature," I said determined. "Besides, it will be a nice distraction. I can really use some distraction."

Uncle Henry smiled and stroked my cold cheek with the back of his hand. "Loreen is right, Demetra." He took my hands and leaned forward. "Remember, you're still of our bloodline, and you always will be. Nothing has changed. We are blessed that you are still with us, and that's all that matters."

Uncle Henry meant well, but he was wrong. Everything had changed, and nothing would ever be the same again. I was no longer a witch, which also meant I was no longer one of the Original Seven.

"Anyway honey, we have to go now. Are you sure you'll be okay all alone?" Aunt Demi asked.

I nodded. "Cyril is only gone for a few days and I'm not alone, Helena is here too."

Aunt Demi and Uncle Henry exchanged an annoyed look. They didn't particularly like Helena, or any vampire for that matter, but now that they had a vampire niece they had to be diplomatic.

Uncle Henry kissed my forehead and hugged me tightly. "Don't be a stranger."

Once the front door closed, I rushed to the fridge and threw six blood bags on the counter. I was starving. The hunger became less as the days passed, but it was still there, always controlling me. It was the only thing I could think about. Somehow my cravings were never truly satisfied, I felt like I could drink the entire blood bank dry without ever being fulfilled. Cyril had said it would become less as the months passed, but I was not so sure. Everywhere I looked I was reminded of my hunger. When I turned on the TV I saw action movies with bloody faces. When I looked out the window I saw tasty bumping vessels. Even when my aunt and uncle visited me, the too sweet odor of their warm blood would fill up my nostrils and pierce into my brain.

"It's the hard vamp life, vamp life."

Then there was Helena. A smile appeared on my face as Helena used a hairbrush as a microphone. On some days she made this catastrophe a bit more bearable. On other days, such as this one, she made it even more painful.