DEAD SEED (AKA "Vampires Don't Exist")

FOUR: Virgil

When the door finally opened again, Aralyn was so weak with hunger she didn't even care. The few snacks hadn't been enough. She had vomited bile that morning. Her stomach was rolling and squeezing painfully. She had drunk all of her water. Her lips were dry and cracking.

Whoever had come in didn't say a word to her. They sat on the bed beside her. A cold hand brushed her forehead, feeling her temperature and brushing her hair out of her eyes. The hand was large and felt strong. It wasn't Claire. The hand slipped behind her neck so the person could lift her up.

"Open your mouth," the man commanded. His voice was deep. He placed a glass to her lips, urging her to part them.

As soon as the first drops of water touched her tongue, Aralyn was reanimated. She drank faster, gulping it down. The man pulled the glass away.

"Not so much, you'll make yourself sick. Are you hungry? What a stupid question, of course you are." The man reached across the bed and grabbed something off the bedside table, still holding onto Aralyn with one arm. He held a tray of food in front of her. "Same with the food, don't go too fast," he warned.

Aralyn somehow found the strength to lift one of her arms and grab a few cubes of cheese off the tray. She ate them slowly, despite wanting to gulp them down too. Before she even finished chewing, she snatched a few apple slices and stuffed them into her mouth. Once she was sure she could continue eating without getting sick, she ate a little quicker. Once, she had to pause and swallow back vomit that threatened to spew from her mouth. She stopped eating and took a few deep breaths before sipping at the water again. Once her stomach had calmed down, she went back to eating, taking a few bites of toasted bread.

Finally, she had the strength to look up at the man that was feeding her. He had strong cheek bones and a square jaw, his mouth set firmly in a frown. His skin wasn't pale like Claire's, it was brown, but his eyes were what gave him away as a vampire. They were mostly black, but a thin line of blood-red color circled his pupils. She blushed when she realized she was still leaning against his hard chest, his muscular arm still holding her up.

"Who are you?" she asked weakly. Was this Aimeric?

"My name is Virgil."

"Where is my sister?"

"Who knows? She comes and goes as she pleases."

He sounded annoyed, whether with Aralyn's questions or with Claire, she wasn't sure.

"Where am I? How long have I been here?"

"You're on Aimeric's island, I'm not sure how long you've been here ... at least four days. I realized no one was feeding you so that's why I came down. Aimeric would not be pleased if you had been left to die."

"Who is he? And why would he care?"

Virgil smiled a grim smile. "Aimeric is the master of this house. As for why he ... cares," the word seemed like poison on his tongue, "that's not up to me to tell you. Just heed this warning: do as you're told, your life will be much easier here if you do."

"Excuse me?" Aralyn felt her strength returning and pushed him away from her. "What is that supposed to mean? I'm not staying here and I'm certainly not going to 'do as I'm told'."

Virgil stood, glaring down at her. Aralyn couldn't help but notice how handsome he was. Dark brown hair fell into his eyes as he squinted at her. "Then you won't last long ... which may end up being a blessing for you. If you believe in such shit." He held his hand out for her then.

"What?" Aralyn snapped, looking at his hand as if it were a disgusting bug.

"I thought maybe you'd like to come with me and get cleaned up. Unless you prefer looking and smelling like you just crawled out of a dumpster."