Pleasure Me, My Catharsis

Seventh

A new sire.

It has been around 90 years since I had someone’s control over me. Obviously, I’m not overly thrilled not interested in letting my independence go. 

“I know what you’re thinking, Sullivan.” The redhead before me quietly said. “As much as I could try and sympathize with you, I cannot. I was never sired. I don’t have a clue on how being sired feels.” She frowned at that. 

The way she spoke was as if this was affecting her just as much as it was me. When Blaine and Caleb had left, the atmosphere around her wasn’t as sharp. Even the temperature around the room was fluctuating from below zero to at a maximum of at least ten degrees. 

“Rest assured though, Angelo was a good man through and through.” 

“He was like a father to me.” I admitted. “He never abused his position as sire. I’m worried of what would happen to his line.” My monotone broke at the end. 

This was just horrible. 

I never thought that Angelo would end before I did. He was powerful and considerate. He gave people a second chance and he always knew what to say or do. He was on good terms with the people who knew him. 

So, why?

Why was he killed? Why did he die again?

How?

How did this happen? How were my memories altered so far back? 

Who?

Who is responsible for this?

“Your estimate age is around 400, correct?” She asked as she pushed her chair back to stand. I gave her a curt nod. “I won’t take away your freedom completely, Sullivan.” She added before walking around the area where the table was situated. Her movements were smooth and silent. 

Anya Venicci is someone who I just met. She could very much be pretending to be someone she’s not. The air around her was always different compared to the others of our kind. I can’t afford to let my guard down around her home, especially around her.

“When are we to leave for his funeral?” I asked and that was when I noticed it. 

She had a faraway look in her eyes. Looking closer, the blue and the green of her orbs were swirling together in random patterns. Her lips were slightly parted and her movements ceased completely.

She looked like a statue covered in a layer of thin ice. 

“Tomorrow at dusk.” She muttered just loud enough for me to hear.

“Lady Anya?” Maria called out from somewhere in the room. “I believe it is time for you to feed.” She supplied and I was a bit surprised.