Love Bites

Stone Cold

Tasha lay on her bed, her night light casting a friendly glow around her. Softening the harshness of the dark. But its light was not enough to chase away the darkness in her soul. Every bad memory was assaulting her mind. Her sister's lifeless body; her dad's final gasping breath; the blood splattered kitchen of her family home; the realisation that Cal had been playing her all along. Her sobs had long since dried up but the sorrow that consumed her was so deep it physically hurt. She vowed to herself she would never let anyone hurt her again.

                                                                                               ***

Cal couldn't take it any longer. A week had become two and Tasha still wasn't answering his calls. So, as day turned to dusk he set out for Tasha's house. The evening was cooler than of late but the weather never bothered Cal.

Arriving at her house he smoothed his shirt and taking a deep breath rang the bell. He knew Tasha was home she'd posted a status on Facebook only ten minutes earlier: staying in is the new going out. Moments later the porch light flickered into being and a shadow emerged behind the frosted glass of the door. Tasha's grandma opened the door.

"Oh, Cal, it's you," she said unsmiling.

"Hello Martha. I know I'm in Tasha's bad books but I really need to see her. Please. I need her to know how sorry I am." Cal said ruefully, turning on his most charming smile.

                                                                                           ***

The sorrow inside Tasha was reaching breaking point. Everything in her life either broke, or broke her. She heard the doorbell chime downstairs and prayed it was no one for her, she really wasn't in the mood for visitors.

Reaching for the tissues she realised there was none left, so she padded into the bathroom to get some more. Ignoring her hideous reflection in the cabinet mirror, she swung it open and searched for a new packet of tissues. As she rummaged she upset the top shelf, its inhabitants tumbling and falling into the sink below with a clatter. Tasha blew out a breath and began to gather up the fallen contents, placing them back in their rightful place.

Her eyes alighted on her razor and she paused. The silver blades glinted in the harsh glare of the overhead light as though taunting her. She turned the plastic casing over in her hand again and again as a single thought bounced around inside her head.

She didn't have any reason to stick around anymore. Her precious family had all been slain. She knew in her heart that her mum was gone too. It had been months since the attack and there had been no sign of her, she wasn't going to reappear now.

Carefully Tasha released the blades from their plastic prison, picked one up and studied it. She stared at the blade for what seemed like an eternity. Until, with shaking fingers and renewed sobs she dug the blade in and dragged it from her wrist upwards towards her elbow. She remembered seeing somewhere that it was the best way to die.

Scarlet blood bloomed on her pale skin as she cut and pained ripped through her but she didn't stop, gasping she willed herself on. The blood dripped from her arm onto the ancient lino floor below staining it with her life force. She took another blade, her fingers were slick with blood and weak but she pushed on, ready to be reunited with her family. The pain had started to diminish, the room began to swim before her as she slipped to the floor. She realised her blood was still warm and that thought was the last thing on her mind before darkness engulfed her completely.

                                                                                      ***

Tasha's grandmas finally conceded and let Cal in, "You know where her room is," she smiled slightly and Cal had a feeling she was happy he'd come. "But if she kicks you out, I won't let you back in again, understand?"

"Perfectly," Cal smiled gratefully at her.

"So, make it count," She winked.

He took the stairs two at a time, holding back the urge to use his speed to be at Tasha's side quicker. He knocked gently on her door, she didn't respond. He bit back the frustration that was threatening to overtake him. He was really trying here and she wasn't letting him. He blew out a calming breath and knocked again, still no answer. He decided to be proactive and take matters into his own hands. He needed her to know that he loved her. 

Cal pushed her bedroom door open and tentatively crossed enemy lines. Nothing. No barrage of insults, no ornaments flying at his head, nothing. She was not there. Confused he went back downstairs.

"Has Tasha gone out?" he asked. 

Her granddad, Charlie, frowned at him, clearly not as happy to see Cal as Martha had been. "She's up there. Probably in the bathroom," he said "crying." Cal winced at the shot. "Just give her a minute."

Cal made his way back upstairs, his attention now on the bathroom. It's door was closed and a small slit of light could be seen underneath, so Cal returned to Tasha's bedroom to wait.

A minute ticked by, then two, three; after five minutes Cal began to feel uneasy. She must know he was here, heard him talking downstairs. So once more he took a stand and went and knocked on the bathroom door. Silence greeted him and Cal's heart sank. He lent his forehead against the white painted wood and exhaled shakily.

"Tasha, please open the door," he begged. Hardly able to believe that he, Cal Lucien, a vampire, was begging for the attention of a human. But here he was, not wanting to let go of this human girl who'd captured his heart. However, he was sensing defeat. She clearly didn't want to speak to him. He was just turning away when it struck him. A sweet, slightly sickly aroma, heavy and metallic. A smell that he knew all too well.

"No!" he shouted and with a swift kick the bathroom door splintered off its hinges.

"What the...?" an angry voice sounded from downstairs and Cal heard thundering footsteps heading his way.

Cal took in the scene before him. Droplets slowly bled onto the lino floor tiles painting them berry red. He watched the journey of the liquid transfixed by its movement, the way it seemed to taint everything it touched, the way it glistened in the artificial light.

"Oh my God!" the voice of Martha broke though his daze.

"Tasha!" he cried rushing forward. "What have you done? What have you done?" he slid onto the floor beside her and pulled her into his arms. Her pallor was graying and he could hear the ever slowing beat of her heart. Another few minutes and it would be too late to save her. "Ring an ambulance!" Cal screamed at Charlie. "Martha, I need some bandages or towels."

They both rushed off leaving Cal alone with a dying Tasha. Seizing their momentary solitude he bared his fangs and sunk them deep into his own wrist, then gently pressed his wound to Tasha's lips, willing her to drink. He allowed her a few drops, enough to stave off death. It was the hardest thing he'd ever done taking away her one certainty of survival but Charlie and Martha would have questions if he healed her completely, then the elders would kill him for sure.

Cal sat on the blood covered floor, rocking Tasha gently in his arms, listening emphatically to her heartbeat, praying the damn ambulance would hurry up. He fought every natural urge in his own body and concentrated solely on Tasha. He could not lose her.

Men in green uniforms appeared and pushed Cal to one side. He watched as they covered her face with an oxygen mask, applied pressure to the wounds on her arms, barked at each other about her BP among other things. Then she was gone, carried away to the ambulance and to hospital in the hope of saving her life. 

Cal sank to the floor, tears beginning to fall. Her blood was drying on his skin and the sight of it made him feel sick. Was he responsible? Had Tasha tried to kill herself because of him? Had he lost the one person who he actually loved in this world?