“How will you make me a vampire?”
“By teaching you how to control your temptations. How to get what you want, how to be stronger than those around you, and how to never be a victim again.”
I look into soft blue eyes, not sure how to respond. “Okay,” I whisper. “When do we start?”
“Now,” he answers, turning me toward the kitchen. Standing at the sink is our chauffeur from earlier. His back is turned, and he’s wearing an apron covered in blood.
“Simon?” Cyrus says toward the man. “Let’s begin.”
He turns toward us, holding a large knife to hisneck. I turn quickly toward Cyrus. “What is he doing?” Turning back toward our driver. “Simon? No…”
Before I finish my words, Simon slides the knife against the skin of his neck, slicing an artery along the way. The smell of fresh blood overtakes any sense I had moments ago. My thoughts change from concern for the man about to take his life to an overwhelming need to feed on the life force leaving his body. I feel my teeth descend a heartbeat later, preparing to drink every last drop.
Cyrus pulls my arm, keeping me in place. “Fight the urge,” he whispers. “Don’t give in to the temptation.”
“How!” I scream. The sound that exits my lips doesn’t sound like me at all. I continue fighting against his grip, my body begging to drink the red liquid.
“Violet,” his calm voice says behind me. “Fight it. Think of a place or time where blood isn’t your main source of food. Think of a time when you were human, when you were not a vampire.”
“How is this teaching me to be a vampire?” I spew.
“Violet!” The timbre of Cyrus’s voice knocks me from the blood-induced stupor back to reality. I turn, finding my teacher’s face transformed into the face of a monster. “You must fight,” he continues.
Something overtakes me, and I do as he demands. I stand straight, smoothing the wrinkles of my blouse, and focus on the last time I was with my friends. The last time I was with Ramona.
“That’s it,” he whispers, his face transforms back to the man I know. “Go into the living room,” he orders.
“What about Simon?”
“He’ll heal. Go now.”
For once, I don’t ask questions and leave them alone in the kitchen. Moving to the couch, I sit uncomfortably, not sure what the hell just happened. Was that a lesson, or did I just witness a murder?
EIGHT
aurora
“You did well, Violet,”Cyrus’s familiar voice says from behind.
I turn, finding the man who purchased me. “What the hell was that?” I stare into pale-blue eyes. “You made him do it, didn’t you? You coerced him into slicing his own throat with that thing you do with your eyes!”
“Simon is alive and well.” His voice stays calm as he moves closer.
“I witnessed him slice his throat from ear to ear,” I argue. “There is no way that man is still alive.”
On cue, Simon enters the room. His shirt and pants are covered in blood, but the wound on his neck is closed. “I can assure you, I am very much alive.”
I look between the two men. “How is that possible? Your throat…”
Simon looks at Cyrus, and they exchange a silent conversation. Cyrus nods, giving the chauffeur permission to speak freely. “I’m alive because I’m not human.”
I sniff the air. “You don’t smell like any of the vampires I’ve met.”
“That’s because I’m not a vampire.” He stands a little taller. “My name is Simon Ward, and I am a lycanthrope.”
“A lycanthrope?” I remember reading the meaning of that word years ago, but at this pivotal moment in my life, I have no clue what it means.
“You might recognize the term werewolf,” Simon says, wiping blood from his cheek.
