Oracle (Book I)

Afterbite

Afternoon and luncheon found Caprice studying before her next lesson in the soft sunlight shining through the Grand Hall.

Bossa sat on her right and Nezzle was on her left. Thierry, Timika, and Ripley sat across the table from her, going on animatedly about something or other. Caprice wasn't really paying attention to their conversation. She didn't know what happened between the two of them exactly but Thierry was much more relaxed and friendly with Bossa now.

Thierry's neck exposed above his collar had her full attention. At first, she wasn't sure what she was looking at.

Following her gaze, Nezzle laughed softly and said, "Bossa has that effect on people. Your brother is merely the latest victim of her sun blood. Obviously her bite, too."

Sure enough, there was a deep set of passion-marked bites on Thierry's neck. Caprice stared at them and studied them in surreptitious glances. Rather than revulsion, she found herself curious as she thought of the inevitable kiss assignment and Bossa. What did it feel like to be bitten? To give blood and, with it, share undeniable essence?

Thierry spent a good deal of his childhood hiding Caprice and Thackery in the cold woods in the dead of dark whenever vampires roamed the nights of the village. After watching their people be preyed upon for years, he had no love for vampires. He knew none of their kind until Bossa though he knew the stories of kin blood drinkers. Brother probably didn't believe in day-walking vampires who meant you no harm...before last night, that is, Caprice thought. If he could, allow himself to be bitten and taken from, especially with no threat of death or suffering, then why couldn't she? Bossa wouldn't hurt me. She glanced at Thierry's neck again, and winced. At least no more than necessary.

Alastair returned to lessons looking more or less as he had before. That slick gloss of his, likely a result of the enchantment on him that hid his Twy nature, was most definitely gone. It appeared the teachers were unable to wholly restore his veneer without knowing what spells were cast on him in the first place. He looked like an off-color imitation of himself. Or perhaps his appearance was different to her only because Caprice now knew the truth he was hiding.

Unfortunately, the shocking truth wasn't the only side effect of their Dispelling lesson that day in class. Ever since then, Alastair went out of his way to provoke confrontations with Bossa. Luncheon that day was a perfect example of his misdirected efforts.

Bossa stood and stomped her booted foot on the seat of her chair so hard the table and everything on it rattled and jumped. Attached to a shapely and mostly bare leg, it was a foot that could likely kick Alastair's head clean off.

"What!? I'd like to see you try that! It'd be the dumbest thing you ever did!"

Caprice snapped out of her thoughts as the table reverberated with Bossa's ire. "What is it this time?" she asked.

"He probably has a wish for death at this point," Nezzle turned a page in her book.

"Oh yeah, why's that?" Timika asked.

Alastair's sneer, which was all for Bossa, slipped. Paling further, face ready to be angry to hide his panic, Alastair looked at Nezzle but she graciously didn't say anything more, as it meant mentioning what he so desperately wanted to keep a secret and deny. Caprice couldn't imagine Nobles breaking the truth to him after having to cast a spell to calm the boy down. The white witch had probably merely swathed him in more lies to sooth his delicate sensibilities.

"Asking for it, isn't he. Then I'll just have to give it to him." Bossa said, leaning forward across the table.

"Leave him be, Bossa," Nezzle said, her tone suggesting she was already bored with the entire situation.

For a second, Alastair looked relieved. Then he puffed up again, drawing himself upright, faint pink blotches staining his cheeks. "Is this charity, Nyrvenna? I don't need such a thing from the likes of you."

"I won't dignify that with an actual response," Nezzle said without looking up.

Alastair glared down at the top of her head and walked away.

"The good news is he hasn't shown his face since that day. At least not to me, Ripley, or Timika," Thierry said once the boy was gone.

"Even better, that wretched sister of his is just as scarce," Caprice said. The less she saw of either of them around, the easier she breathed. Attending school was beginning to feel normal, which was still unsettling in its own way. Like other things, she thought as she glanced at Thierry's neck again.

Bossa was lowering her foot from the chair and tugging down the hem her shorts around her thighs while glaring at the back of Alastair Whitehare the whole time she resumed her seat.

"Bossa, can you tell me a little more about blood-drinking?" Caprice surprised herself as the words came out.

The other girl's russet gaze popped over to Caprice's. For a second, for once, she seemed surprised then turned her chair Caprice's way.

"Oh, um, yes. Ask, of course." She glanced at Thierry and licked her fangs, eyes glazing slightly like she was remembering something awfully tasty.

Thierry hurriedly ducked his head, looking away, and laughed at something Ripley said.

"I mean, what to expect. For the assignment and all." Her thoughts ran together nervously. Does it hurt a lot? What if you take too much?

"Those moon shade kids have to bite about five people and all of those students have to write to the teacher about it. Supposedly the assignment teaches vampiric kinds respect and consideration for their prey and partners. Though I hear they have a lot of fun choosing victims rather than asking."

Caprice stiffened. "Lucky I got you, then."

"You're scared," Bossa said bluntly.

"A little nervous," Caprice hedged. "But go on. Say more."

"Alright then. Suhngha vampire bites. First lesson. Because I don't necessarily have to drink blood constantly in order to live, I only have to bite one person. And I don't have to take much so don't worry." Bossa held out her arm, tilting her hand down and exposing her wrist. "It's about the same as any kind of bite only without the intention of maiming or eating. There are different drinking points. Wrist is gratitude. Offering. Invitation. Hospitality. Respect." She touched each drinking point as she spoke. "Neck is intimacy. Trust. Desire for closeness. Shoulder is aggression. Assault posture. A desire to possess or control. Bitten from the back, even more so. Inner thigh...well, extreme intimacy and trust. Hidden, discretion."

None of those seemed like good places for someone to draw blood from. With their teeth. Caprice worried at her sleeve anxiously with a thumbnail.

"Bites also leave different kinds of marks though that's sort of a lost art." Bossa went on, "If I do a bad job of it--nick an artery and get you sent to the Mederi or scare the piss out of you—and you live to tell about it and give me a bad report--then I get put on the school's Register of Predatory Biters and Blood-Drinkers."

That didn't make her feel better at all.

"Is it really so serious?" she asked.

"That's one way to put it," Bossa shrugged though eyeing Caprice carefully.

"But you've never hurt anyone before. I mean, Thierry is fine. Better than fine really. So this shouldn't be a big deal for you. We'll do it. I'll write my report."

"If you don't like it, you can tell the teacher whatever you want," Bossa said quietly.

"It will be fine," Caprice said with a tremulous confidence that she wasn't totally certain of. There was no way she was going to let Bossa down. Not after she said she'd do it. Doing that meant letting her fear overcome her. And she hoped fear's ruling days were over.