Black Blood

My eyes shoot back and forth over the forest. I decide to see where I am, what the vampires want from me and what they could help me with. My trust in others is at a very low ebb, but at the moment I can’t do anything else. I have to find out where Vico and Tristan are, I don’t know how or where to look.

Slowly I walk towards Novak, my feet sliding over the slightly wet grass. Novak’s eyes are focused on the field in front of him, not seeming to notice that I’m coming in his direction. He takes the cigarette out of his mouth, blows out the smoke.

I wonder why he is sitting here alone. He doesn’t seem to be about to get up and join the rest. The servant respected him and did not seem to regard him as dangerous either. I cannot put my finger on it.

As soon as I am a few steps away from him, he seems to notice me. With the cigarette between his lips, he looks in my direction. His eyes widen at the sight of me.

He wants to get up, but I stop him with a single hand gesture. I stand next to him in silence. Carefully I try to sit down next to Novak against the tree. It leads to my back sliding over the bark and Novak reaching out to me, which I turn away.

Once I am sitting next to him in the grass, I pull my legs into a cross-legged position. I stare ahead at the campfire. I don’t know exactly why I sat down here, but it seems the only logical thing to do.

My vision is taken over by a tin that is held in front of me, surprised, I look at the can of cigarettes. I look at Novak, not understanding, wondering what he means. Novak lowers the can and takes out a cigarette. As fast as my eye can pass over it I count another half a can of twisted cigarettes.

‘Do you want?’ he asks. I stare doubtfully at the cigarette. He has the white sleeve clamped between his index and middle finger, just enough not to dent it. I have never smoked a cigarette, or anything like it. When my mother was alive, it was quite normal to smoke in the castle, but with my father’s new regime that has died a quiet death.

I take the thing from between his fingers. I stare ignorantly at the cigarette, not knowing what to do next. You have to light it, that’s logical, but after that it’s a big question mark.

‘You’ve never smoked before?’ I can hear the amusement in Novak’s voice echoing. My cheeks heat up and turn slightly red. Embarrassed, I shake my head, my eyes fixed on the grass. Novak carefully takes the cigarette from between my fingers.

I look up, curious about what he is going to do. He twists the cigarette gracefully in his fingers so that the tip is facing his body. He puts the white tip between his lips. Interested, I watch every move he makes.

He takes a packet of matches from his pocket, slides it open and takes one out. He strokes the tip of the match along the sandpaper, a flame emerges. He holds the flame at the beginning of the cigarette, which slowly seems to catch fire. As soon as the ash glows and a little smoke slips out through his nose, I assume he is lit.

He takes the cigarette from between his lips with his waist and forefinger, turns it easily so that the tip is caught between his thumb and forefinger. He holds the burning thing out to me, waiting for me to tackle it.

‘Clamp it between his middle and index finger.’ I do as I’m told and take the cigarette from between his fingers. Novak smiles amusedly at my ignorance.

‘Put the filter between your lips and suck gently.’ Wondering if this is such a good idea, I do as I’m told. I put the slightly wet tip between my lips and suck in the smoke.

Seeing everyone doing it, you’d assume it’s pleasant or tastes good. I immediately start coughing as soon as the smoke hits my throat. I spit the smoke out and almost let the cigarette fall out of my hand.

I hear an amused laugh coming from next to me. My coughing seems to stop after a few seconds, a foul taste remains. I look at Novak in irritation as he seems unable to recover from the laughter. I don’t know what irritates me more, Novak’s laughter or my own failure. If so many others can do this without coughing, why can’t I?

‘Look. As soon as you suck the smoke into your mouth, hold it in for a second, take a deep breath and blow it out again. You mustn’t breathe it in immediately after you have sucked it, then you will cough.’ Novak seems to have recovered from his laughing fit and gives me further instructions.

Doubtful, I look at the burning thing between my fingers. Why should I do this? It’s disgusting and it makes me cough. On the other hand, I want to do something I am not told to do, something for myself.

I put the tip between my lips again and do exactly what I was told. I feel the smoke slip into my mouth, take a deep breath that seems to fill my lungs and blow the smoke out again. A single cough leaves my mouth.

‘Look much better already,’ Novak encourages me. I smile proudly, at myself. I take another puff from the cigarette and this time I don’t cough anymore. The taste is not as bad as it seemed the first time. It slowly calms me down, so I sit back and lean my back against the tree trunk.

It is quiet for a while, a pleasant silence. Me smoking half a cigarette in the meantime, something that seems to be getting more and more pleasant. Novak staring at the campfire, seemingly lost in thought. I don’t feel the urge to say anything, the same goes for Novak.

I shiver when something warm falls on my leg. I wipe it off my burning skin and see that it was the ash from the cigarette.

‘You have to tap the ash as soon as it gets too long,’ Novak shares. I nod quickly and look ahead of me again.

‘Some see vampires as homicidal bloodsuckers, as the dregs of society. Maybe that’s true too. Some of these vampires kill out of lust, the lust for power. Others have enough control and can stop whenever they want. One group hates it, has little control but no choice. The last group hates it, avoids it, but has control.’ The reason why Novak is telling me this is completely unclear to me, nevertheless I find it interesting. I look at Novak in silence, his gaze fixed on the campfire.

I realise that I am in a camp full of bloodthirsty vampires and the worst thing is, I don’t feel threatened. In stories, vampires are written off as murderers, psychopaths or dangerous. In reality, vampires have no choice; it’s drink blood or die. The choice is often a quick one.

‘Which one are you?’ I ask him. He seems to sigh, searching for the answer.

‘Murderous, maybe. Enough control, sometimes. Contemptuous, sometimes. A mixture of several.’ By now the cigarette is finished and I push it out into the grass. I nod understandingly at his answer, wondering if I should keep asking. I feel Novak’s eyes burning on my them.

‘What is a night rider doing injured, alone and unconscious in a vampire clan?’