Watford Tales

The Cave

Baz

I don't like to admit it, even to myself, but there are some things I kind of like about being a vampire. Like now, hunting in the woods. The catacombs are depressing, but it's better out here. With my fangs out, everything feels different. I'm more agile, stronger. I can leap from rock to rock with ease, move silently over the forest floor. I can hear the animals moving about in the woods, smell them. I sense the fine vibrations of their movements in my fangs. Even the cold, cold air feels all right. I am part of the cold, and the cold is part of me.

When my fangs are out, I'm focused on the hunt, on the smell of blood. All the sad things that have happened to me, all the terrible things that could still come to pass, recede from my mind. It's a break from being human. Sometimes that's a relief.

Daphne, my stepmother, gets me this black silk ski underwear from a posh outdoor shop in London and it's great for moving around easily in the woods. There's a limestone cave nearby where I go to shed the rest of my clothes and hide them. It has a dry sandy floor. I've slept out there in a pinch, but this afternoon, I'm trying to get what I need and get back to school before the drawbridge goes up.

I see a deer, off in the distance, but I hate to take any deer unless I really need to. They're so beautiful. I get two rabbits and a couple of squirrels and that's as much as I can drink, the blood, hot and delicious in my mouth, then warm and solid in my belly. Sated, at least for today, I head back to the cave to get my clothes. I'm starting to wonder what Simon is up to. "Aleister Almighty," I think to myself. "I'm just going from one hunger to the next."

I smell him first, the sharp, green wood aroma of him, the hospital scent of the school soap. He must have just showered. And then I see him hunkered down in the mouth of the cave, sitting in the snow. Snow in the snow. He grins when he sees me. The sun is low among the trees, the light is orange on the white ground. The trees cast long, deep blue shadows. We only have about twenty minutes and then the bridge will be drawn.

"Snow," I hiss at him. He just grimaces at me. "Simon," I correct. "What are you doing out here?" I'm not really unhappy to see him. He looks dead sexy, sitting there in the low light.

He shrugs, nonchalantly. "Came to find you," he says. He's only wearing his school jacket, as he ruined his coat, that night he flew to London.

"Aren't you cold?" I ask.

He shrugs again. "What about you?" he asks gesturing towards my clothes. "What're you wearing anyway?"

"It's long underwear," I say, feeling a bit foolish. "Good for hunting." I duck into the cave to get the rest of my stuff and Simon's right behind me. He shoves his shoulder against mine, looking into my eyes. He smiles and then he's leaning into me, pushing me against the rough stone wall, his warm, soft mouth on mine, his tongue reaching for me hungrily. The tiny space of the cave fills with the smell of sticky green smoke. It's breathtaking. He's breathtaking. My fingers go and twine in those bronze curls, and I'm kissing him back and melting into his heat, sucking in his breath.

"Good for hunting and.....being hot," he says, laughing as he runs his hands over the silk fabric of my back and down towards my arse. He grabs hold and pulls me close into him. All the blood I just drank is warming me from the inside, giving me ballast, like I can take whatever he can dish out. My hips push forward and lock onto his, and I hear his breath hitch.

"We've got to get back," I protest weakly. "The drawbridge is going to go up and we'll be stuck out here all night."

"Don't worry about it," he says, kissing me harder, leaning in. He feels so good. Everything feels so good.

"Think about it Simon," I say. "All night out here. No food."

He takes a hand and rakes my hair back off my forehead. "I have a way back in," he says. He reaches into his jacket pocket and gets out a large, old fashioned iron key. There's a rabbit's head stamped in the metal at one end, where the ring would normally be. It's an odd, rough looking thing. I take it from him and examine it closely. "What is this?" I ask.