From here, it’s a simple act of rearranging.
Well, it’s not really simple. It’s very complicated and I doubt there is much of anything in the human tech world that can rewrite the DNA of a living organism and then keep it alive as it morphs.
Only the Darkness can do that.
That’s how vampires are made.
And that’s why it’s so difficult to make new ones. You must have the blessing of this dark god. You must have a vessel with the Black blood, and you must have a partner to help you. Not a human. Not a witch—she is the vessel, not the partner.
So you need two vampires and a witch.
That is how we make the babies.
But… if you have three vampires—oh, that’s when things get very, very special.
Little Baby is a gift. Something I’m using to entice the Darkness to take part in what comes next.
She is pale now—nearly silver in this light. Dead. Very,verydead. But we’re just getting started with this little ritual.
It’s my turn now.
I lean back on the ground, spreading my legs and arms. Little Baby is kind of in my way, but I just flop a leg and an armover her, pretending she’s not there. Her body begins to shake—another seizure as the Darkness works magic inside her cells. And then there is a long gasp from her. A breath of life.
I have seen this done many times. So even though my eyes are closed and my mouth open in anticipation of what comes next, I know the Darkness—in all its purple glory—is leaving her body with that breath. And just as I have this thought, it enters me. Filling my mouth with oily, slick nanoparticles. Choking me, forcing itself down my throat.
I make myself lie as still as I can.
In the early times I would fight this, the instinct to cough and pull it out so overwhelming, I’d usually pass out from the fear. Which was a good thing, since choking is no fun.
But I have learned to control the instinct to expel the alien invader. My mouth is open wide and so is my mind.
Give it to me,I tell the Darkness.
Give me everything you have.
Give me all the magic, give me all the darkness, give me all the power.
Make me the creator.
Give me the blood.
My body swells with it. All of Little Baby’s blood is put inside me. And when I can take no more, I turn over, positioning myself on top of her lifeless body, and then I kiss her, expelling the darkness out of me and back into her. A moment later, she gasps too, expelling the Darkness again. My mouth is right over hers, so it comes back into me.
We do this—a special version of the long drink—many more times. Hundreds of times. Enough times so that the Darkness can enter my cells too, change my DNA too, and give me its power.
It’s not for me, though. I am but a vessel. A delivery mechanism.
This blood of mine will be shared when Paul, Ryet, and I help Syrsee make a baby.
She will get some, they will get some—and they will give it back to me. And then we’ll do that again, and again, and again until a new Darkness is growing inside her.
When I wakeupthe Darkness is gone.
There is no trace of purple mist, just the dampness that exists everywhere under the earth.
Little Baby’s body is beside me. She is not dead. It won’t let her die, not yet. It will play with her for a while. Use her to make things, I suppose. Experiment a little. She’s a lab rat now.
And I am ever so thankful. So I turn on my side and caress her sliced-up cheek as I gaze into her traumatized eyes. I think they were originally green? Or blue? I can’t remember. Then they turned gold but they are pink now. It looks good on her.
