I should have listened to Tate. I shouldn’t have come. Death was one thing, but being turned into a vampire and controlled by a master? I’d pray for death.
“Tate!” I yelled.
5
Sebastian took lazy strides across the courtyard towards his destination. He never rushed. There was an air of aristocracy about him that the brotherhood couldn’t train out of him. He was dressed up in a tie and jacket, the Sanguine Society symbol brazenly displayed on the shoulder.
It was no wonder the vampires took the bait. Sebastian was handsome, refined, and tragic. I think it was the air of tragedy that set him on his own special level above everyone else. There was something so beautiful about a broken angel.
When we were both kids and he first came to the academy, he was very sad. His soft light hair was brushed forward to hide his crying face as they introduced him to the rest of us. He had large gray eyes and soft red cheeks. He reminded me of those flying children painted on the ceilings of the church that the Brotherhood was housed in.
During the first few months at the Brotherhood, he used to cry at night. I had watched dutifully, feeling someone needed to witness it. At some point, he noticed my attention and looked infuriated by my gawking. That’s when I first learned I should hide that I was watching him.
I was raised by the Brotherhood. My parents were living legends until the living part went away. I barely knew them. When they died, it was hard to be sad like Sebastian had been about his. I tried mimicking his pain in the bathroom mirror after they told me they were dead but it never looked right and I could never get the tears to come.
Sebastian and I were never friends at the Brotherhood. He had his people and I had mine. I’d watched him though. My eyes had been drawn to him since the first time I saw him.
I didn’t think much of it, just a stupid habit. I’d trail after him when we went to classes. I’d insert myself as his sparring partner so I could see his movements up close. I’d sit at meals where I had a direct path to watch him.
As the years went on I found myself slinking around more covertly. I started to watch him through his window when we got private rooms after turning eighteen. It took seeing him masturbating to finally make me wake up and realize I was a genuine stalker.
I’d fucked my own fist four hours after I’d caught him jerking off. I had a million images of him in my head, doing any and everything. A colossal mind palace dedicated all to him and I roamed the halls taking in everything with a desperation I’d never had before, pumping my fist as I leered at the art.
I clutched his Sanguine Society invitation in my hand. It was written in deep red calligraphy. It stank because it was actual blood, not just red ink. Sebastian slipped into the school building and I slid the invitation into my pocket before using the drainage pipe to shimmy to the ground. My boots hit the grass softly and I looked around before going inside.
The red door down the hall wasn’t closed fully. An intentional action so that I could get as close as possible, maybe even do my own recon if the situation allowed it. I opened the door and could hear Sebastian’s footsteps.
I began to descend, moving fast but trying to stay quiet. Not far into my descent I came to stand still as I heard a door hinge squealing far below. I tried to peer into the center of the spiral staircase but it was disorienting with no handrail, just the stone stairs abruptly ending. I felt like I would lose my balance.
The door hinges squealed again and I stood there a moment waiting to hear something. It was silent. I licked my lips and kept climbing down. The nasty scent of Sebastian’s invitation kept bothering me. It smelled like animal decay–rotting meat and that sick fruity scent that accompanied it. I pulled out the invitation and felt ill as I looked at the crimson lettering.
Finally, I flung the card away from me. It shot away and hit the wall, falling to the ground. I looked at my fingers, seeing if any of it got on me but there was nothing. Still, I wiped my hands on my clothes before I kept going.
Minutes later I was staring at the door at the bottom, feeling queasy. It was painted in blood, drenched in it. I wondered how many people they’d used.
“Sick fucks,” I hissed, staring at it. Slowly, I cracked the door open but heard people and pulled it back closed. I cracked it slightly ajar again. I couldn’t see much. I didn’t hear or see anyone now so I pushed the door farther open.
The room was big, the ceiling high and curved. The stone columns made it hard to scope the entire place out. How big was this place? How many vampires were down here?
A door opened. Someone was breathing heavily and their feet were dragging. They groaned; it sounded like pain. Goosebumps popped up on my arms.
“Wolfe!” Someone snapped and I jumped back to the exit, pulling the door closed behind me and collapsing on the bottom stair. I pushed my hands through my hair. Someone was hurt. Sebastian maybe. This was bad. This was very bad. He shouldn’t be hurt. That wasn’t how they did things.
Then I heard it.
“Tate.” My panic ebbed into hard concentration. My heart beat steadied. He was hurt and he was calling for me. I pulled in a deep breath as I stood, stomping the few paces to the door and ripping it open.
“Sebastian…” I whispered, seeing him crumpled on the floor, blood all over him. He writhed and groaned. I could almost feel his pain, nearly grabbing my stomach and groaning. The veins in his neck were prominent as he clutched his center.
His eyes widened when he saw me. Hope broke through the pain. He reached for me, pulling a hand away from his gut. It was coated in blood.
I scrambled forward, pulling Sebastian from the floor. His head lolled against my chest.
“Tate,” he whispered.
“I’m here,” I whispered, wrapping an arm around his waist and trying to get back to the door. “You have to walk,” I said as the men argued behind the columns behind us. They were furious with one another and that played in our favor. It looked like they might fight and they were yelling so loud they couldn’t hear us.
Sebastian gripped my shirt in his hand and took big gulps of air as he started to get steady on his feet, carrying his own weight.
