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Chapter 6- A Time For Answers...
Ragon had sat next to Bell, on the edge of her bed, that night. He knew that she was drunk, and would have a hangover the following morning. He had tried to justify his desire to watch her sleep, by telling himself that he was worried she might choke on her own vomit, but truth be told: he just wanted to be close to her. Up until tonight he had thought that he would keep her safe, and keep his distance. As he sat and watched Bell breathe little shallow breaths, he recalled the first time he had seen her: or rather the first time she had seen him. He had been at the university, reading in the library, when she walked past him. He didn't look up as she passed by him, but continued to read his much worn copy of 'Dantes Inferno'.
From the second she left the library, all he could hear was her heart beat. The purposeful lub dub of her heart was distinct, and like music to his ears; a delicious and soothing song only he could hear: reminding him that she was alive. The moment her heart rate had changed he knew something was wrong. It had gotten too fast, too quickly, and there was something wrong about the rhythm: it reminded him of Karl Husa'a 'Quarto movemiento'. He wanted to race to her, to blur through the library in an instant, but he knew he could not; such actions would not go unnoticed. Instead he raced, as controlled as he could; running at a human pace. To those who saw him, he might have been any mortal chasing a bus, or else being late for an appointment. However, as soon as he felt the absence of heartbeats around him, and thought it was safe, he accelerated. He could feel exactly how far away she was, and he knew that if he ran as fast as he could, he would reach her in a few minutes.
He saw the beasts attacking her first; reacting in an instant to end their existence. So preoccupied with their play, they hadn't even noticed him. Moving over to the two boys who dared to restrain her, he broke their necks quickly. She had fallen hard onto the ground, and he wanted desperately to check that she was ok, but vengeance spurred him on. He enjoyed racing after the man who foolishly ran from him. Ragon was impossible fast, and took the insignificant worm in his hands, and crushed his spine against his knee. Turning now to finish the instigator, he smiled as the monster prayed. A monster killing another monster, Ragon thought to himself, before reaching down and tearing his throat out; delighted by the blood reward. Had Bell not been there, he might have preferred to take his time with them; really ensured they suffered for trying to rape her. But he couldn't indulge in such pleasures; he had to get Bell away from here, had to make sure she was safe; nothing like this could happen again. He couldn't bring himself to lock eyes with Bell, but took her gingerly in his arms, and raced into the night with her. He had run the entire way with her in his arms. She did not speak, and Ragon knew by the quiet hum of her heart, that she was unconscious.
Despite his speed, it was half an hour before he had reached his home: the mausoleum. He had known from the instant he had saved her, that everything was going to have to change. He had hoped, if he could keep her existence a secret from Kiara, than perhaps she could still lead a relatively normal life. Naively, he had thought for her to one day get use to his company, and then maybe she could restart university, and continue with her life as if nothing had changed; Kiara need never know of her existence. In that parallel reality, she might have grown old, and had babies; Ragon would have slowly become less and less a part of her life, until she forgot about him entirely: but now that could never be. He had damned her; Kiara new who she was; but worst or all: knew how much Bell meant to him.
Suddenly Bell tossed in her sleep, pulling Ragon from his past. Instantly, he moved closer to her, careful not to touch her, but desperate for his presence to make her more comfortable. He had a large glass of water, and some nurophen plus waiting by her bedside table for when she awoke. It had not taken long for the sun to finally rise after she had fallen asleep; Ragon watched the few tiny beams of light, try desperately to get beyond the block-out curtains in her room. Transfixed at the luminescence, he realised how long it had been since he had seen the sun; excepting his recent sun tanning fiasco. It was no secret that vampires disliked the sunlight. In fact, considering the alternative, it would have been unusual for a vampire to enjoy it. After he had first been changed, he thought his affliction towards the sun might wane, but as the weeks stretched into years, he relised this could not be. The intolerance to sunlight seemed the final blow of what would be a cursed life; for in his mind, only true evil would be barred from the lights glory. Still he thought, when darkness began to fall outside, the night had its own beauty; though each star would never shine as true as the sun, combined they were a majestic, dancing counterpart to daytime.
He moved then to the windows and drew the open. The moon was bright tonight, which afforded Ragon the comfort of a replacement sun to behold.
"Kill me," Bell whispered, in a thick crackling voice, from the bed.
Ragon smiled. Though he could not remember what the effects of alcohol on him had been while he was a man; he knew that on occasions when he had partaken in drinking heavily and not feeding on enough blood, how drained he had left him. He reached for the nurophen and handed it to her.
"Oh," Bell said, startled by Ragon's presence, "how long have you been here?"
"About 180 years, give or take," he said smiling.
Bell blinked, and took the nuropehn, washing it down with a few gulps of water, and then finishing the entire glass.
"I think that will be the last time I play sources," Bell said, trying to return the smile.
"That sounds like a very good idea," Ragon replied.
Though he was upset by the toll the alcohol had taken on Bell, he was at least thankful that some good had come out of it. If Bell never played Sources again, he would be happy.
"Are the others up yet?" Bell asked.
Ragon looked around the room, as if sensing their presence, "Sandra and Thomas have left, probably hunting, and both our human guests are sleeping. I don't expect Cambridge and Larissa to wake for some time, they spent allot of the night shouting."
He was about to continue but Bell said, "Ohh," in remembrance of the nights events, pushed her hands over her face and dug her head into the pillow saying, "why did Larissa get so upset at Cambridge? Wouldn't you, err, I mean vampires, have to feed on others normally?"
Ragon looked up at Bell, a curious expression on his face. There was so much about his world that she did not know, that he hoped for her to never know, but answered "I guess, Cambridge was trying to make her jealous," and when Bell returned a blank expression said, "her and Clyde, have a, past. Before Larissa met Cambridge, she and Clyde were lovers."
Bell drew her head from the pillow saying, "really?"
Ragon nodded once, a little taken aback by Bell's obvious interest in Clyde and added, "Clyde is known for his, vigorous attempt at bedding women."
Bell blushed a little at this, remembering how he had tried to get her and the blond girl to- but she broke off from that thought quickly, as a wave of nausea overtook her. Running from her bed, into the bathroom, she began convulsing and having up last night's festivities. She felt Ragon beside her, and tried not to feel embarrassed as he took the hair tie from her wrist, and tied her hair out of her face.
"You don't need to watch this," she said, heaving again into the toilet.
When finally she had thrown up all she could, she stood and swayed on the spot. Instantly Ragon was behind her, holding her upright.
"Th- thanks," she stammered, moving over to the sink and washing her mouth out. Looking into the bathroom mirror she gasped. She had not realised until now, but she was only wearing her bra and underwear. She reached for a towel, and began covering herself, saying, "Geez, how many times did I get the Queen card last night?"
Ragon had averted his eyes at Bell's obvious discomfort at being disrobed in front of him. "You were, err, quit insistent that a jumper should not count as clothing," he said, in a slight tone of annoyance.
Bell caught the tone of displeasure in his voice, blurting out, "why did you rescue me, if you don't want me here?"
Ragon's eyes were suddenly frozen in fear. He took a moment to recover himself, and choosing his words carefully said, "It's not that I don't want you here, it's just that I would rather you were somewhere else."
Bell stared back in disbelief, her fears confirmed.
Ragon knew instantly from her expression, that he had said the wrong thing, and quickly added, "I mean; you're only 24 and there are things that you will want that I can't give you. I want you to be normal; living a normal life, without vampires trying to kill you, and playing stupid games with-"