Black Blood

Novak

Something about this lady I cannot place. She lies about everything she says and she is not good at it. She seems to forget that I can hear her heart beating, her blood flowing. With every lie, her heartbeat shoots up, every time I come even close. She is terrified and lost, lost in herself. As weak as she may look, she is quite strong. It takes courage to get up from that bed, walk outside and sit with a complete stranger. She seems to be stuck in herself and doesn’t know how to get out.

I walk, with the lady next to me, towards the large campfire in the middle of the clearing. Maybe I should let her change clothes first but frankly I don’t give a fuck what dress she walks in, just like everyone else. Vampires don’t rank on money or beauty, it’s all about your strength and control. Of course, good looks are a bonus, but they’re not a must.

The closer we get to the fire, the more others seem to notice us. I see the eyes of several men turn towards the lady next to me, staring at her body. As soon as I give them a deadly look, they immediately avert their gaze. It’s not that we don’t have ladies here, plenty of them. It is more that we do not often receive unexpected guests. The Black Forest is not a nice, accessible place.

I stop about a metre away from the fire. The fire devours the one-and-a-half metre high pile as if it were a lion on its prey. The crackling of the fire gives the night a pleasant atmosphere. The light from the fire is enough to identify a face metres away. Around the fire are iron pins on which food is prepared: Meat, fish, vegetables, anything we could find.

The eyes are on me and the lady, waiting for what is to come.

‘Ladies and gentlemen, we have a guest. Welcome her, give her something to drink and eat, make her feel welcome.’ My voice echoes along the dark trees. Although playing the sufferer is certainly not my thing, I can do it. Talking in front of groups, commanding others, I hate it but I can do it. This is Myles job but he’s nowhere to be found, and I’m not going to bother looking for him.

A clapping burst out, something I find strange. Several ladies come walking towards us, some of whom I barely know the names of, some of whom I don’t know at all. They look at me as if I should give them permission to talk to Maria, or whatever her name is. I deliberately take a few steps to the right to make room, the ladies see it as permission to talk to Maria. I let one last glance over the four ladies, after which I walk away.

My feet take me to the crates of drinks at the back of the campfire. Everyone seems to be so busy talking to each other that they have forgotten about me, something that does not bother me at all. I am not here often, hardly ever, so no one seems to notice when I am. I’m not even sure if I’ve spoken to my father since my return, something I like to keep that way.

I pull a bottle of liquor, the label of which is unreadable, from the crate. Without bothering to pick up a glass or mug, I twist off the cap and put the bottle to my lips. A burning sensation slips down my gullet into my stomach, blood rum is my first thought. The taste is a combination of iron and sweet alcohol.

‘She’s pretty man.’ My eyes are so focused on the fire that I don’t realise Timon has come and stood next to me. I unabashedly take another sip from the bottle, without taking my eyes off the fire, and then look at my best friend.

‘Shut up Timon.’ The boy runs his hand through his dark brown hair, his brown eyes look amused and a slight grin has settled on his lips. I take another sip from the bottle and look at the fire again.

‘You could do it you know, be a sufferer.’ I swallow the burning alcohol, letting the bottle hang a few inches from my lips.

‘Shut up Timon,’ I repeat. A genuine smile slips across Timon’s lips after which he takes the bottle from my hand uninvited and puts it to his own lips.

‘Where is Myles anyway?’ I ask, shoving my hands into my trouser pockets. Timon just swallows the alcohol before he leaves the bottle hanging next to his body.

‘Fucking Sara or something.’ He shrugs his shoulders uninterestedly.

‘When are you going to start with women, men are also allowed.’ I roll my eyes at Timon’s not very funny joke. He obviously thinks it’s funny and starts laughing at his own joke.

‘You think I’m going to date a girl from this camp when I’m not here 90 percent of the time?’ I pull the bottle of liquor from his hands and take another sip.

‘Men are allowed too I said.’ I send the chuckling Timon a deadly look.

‘Come on be honest, you’ve really done it with an insecure werewolf boy or something.’ I roll my eyes, for the umpteenth time since this conversation.

‘Shut up Timon.’ Timon is always trying to get information about my travels, without success. He only hears what he is allowed to hear and I love to see him grope in the dark.

I just grin at his suspicions, leaving every possibility open. I don’t understand why Myles has chosen Timon as his right-hand man, let’s face it Timon isn’t exactly the serious type, or I’m too little in the camp to judge that.

It’s quiet for a while between us. We take turns taking a sip from the bottle and looking at the busy talking group in front of us. I stare at Maria, or something like that. She is talking to the three ladies who joined her when I walked away. She seems a little uncomfortable but enjoying herself.

‘When are you going again?’ Timon breaks the silence.

‘In a week,’ I reply without averting my gaze. Timon takes the last sip from the now empty bottle.

‘You really only come here to get rid of the booze stock and get more tobacco for your stupid addiction.’ I can’t stop laughing at his point, which contains a grain of truth.

‘You forget to make my brother’s life miserable.’ Timon also starts laughing as we stand together looking at the burning fire.