Innocent Blood

Everything about him filled Eliza's senses. Damian's scent, the feel of his skin against her cheek as she lay against his chest, the strength of his arms wrapped around her small form, and the soft, constant beat of his heart in her ears. The bedroom smelled of sex and sweat, testament to another encounter of passionate embraces and writhing bodies. Needing peace, they now rested in the quiet darkness, their fingers lightly stroking each other. Eliza mindlessly twirled her finger around one of Damian's nipples. Damian softly stroked the dampness of her brown hair.

"What did you mean when you said you were waiting for me?" Eliza asked. She kept her voice soft, not wanting to ruin the quiet afterglow that they were basking in.

Damian's chest rose with a deep breath. "I'm not sure," he said, mimicking the softness of her voice in his answer.

"Yes you do."

"It's kind of hard to explain."

Eliza shifted her body to look at him. "Try," she said. Damian turned his gaze to the ceiling, staring at nothing. "I've never really been satisfied with anyone I've gone out with," he began. "I've had dates before, yeah, but nothing really lasting. There's alot of reasons why; I was too busy, too picky, a little bit of fear...I could probably go on. But the truth is that I had a vision in my mind of what I wanted, but nobody seemed to meet that vision."

"What was that vision?" Eliza asked.

Damian looked at her and his hand reached up to stroke her cheek. "It's hard to put into words," he said, "but you fulfill it. The person I've been looking for, the one I've been hoping to meet literally appeared out of nowhere. And you stayed, even though you didn't have to."

Unable to look into his eyes any longer, she turned to his chest, watching her finger dance across him. "Even though I killed you?"

Damian's arms clutched her tightly. "As long as you're here, I don't care if I'm dead or alive. If it means my vision, my prayer, comes true, I'll die again. I don't know how it will all turn out, but I'm ready for it."

"I'm glad," Eliza said. "Because there will be trials, believe me."

"My turn," Damian said, his grip softening slightly. "Why did you stay?"

"Loneliness, I guess. I've never had a mate in the way you and I are mated, though someone did turn me. Something drew me to you, and I did what I did because I was tired of the life I was living. I was selfish. I didn't know if what I was going to do was something you wanted; I didn't care. I was sick of being by myself, and wanted to end that feeling the best, and easiest, way I knew how."

Damian's fingers continued to stroke her hair. Tears welling in her eyes, she didn't feel worthy of his touch. She broke away from him, shifting on the bed so her back was to him. She brought her arms around her naked form and held herself, letting the tears fall silently.

She felt Damian's body press against hers, his arms wrapping around her. He didn't waste time resuming the soft strokes against her skin, pressing feather-light kisses along the back of her neck and shoulders. He pulled her body closer into his, letting her weep, saying nothing.

Eliza fought to pull herself under control. She didn't deserve his touch, had brought him into her world because of her selfish wants. Yet he still held her, stayed with her, despite that. That was worth something, wasn't it? His acceptance of her world helped justify her actions a little, didn't it?

"I want to know," he said. "I want to know everything about you, Eliza."

She shook her head. "No you don't."

Damian ran his fingers up her arms, lightly grazing her pale skin. "Yes I do. I wouldn't have asked if I didn't want to know."

"It's boring."

"I'm not sure you could say anything that would bore me."

"It's long."

"We have until the suns die out, remember?"

Eliza sighed. "I still don't think you want to hear it."

"I'll take that chance," he answered.

Eliza kept quiet, organizing her thoughts, debating telling him anything. He was her mate, yes, but did he really want to know something about her past? Would he be okay hearing that the things she had to go through could never happen to him? The rational part of her mind asked that question. The emotional part of her mind replied that mates share everything with each other, past, present, and future. Her decision made, she took a deep breath.

"I know it's cliché to start by saying I was born in 1842," she began, "but that's what happened. I was born in Mississippi. My parents were Irish immigrants that had moved there a few years before. My mother died of illness when I was five, leaving my father and me.

"My father drank more than he worked. He couldn't keep a job because he was always drunk or hung over. He tried a variety of jobs; farming, smith, construction, things like that. He was always in debt. I managed to bring in a little money delivering things, and eventually became a seamstress. That helped a little, but not enough.

"To make matters worse, Father started to abuse me, verbally and physically. It's not too surprising that as I got older he eventually molested me. Everyone knew what was going on, but nobody did anything about it, not really. I thought about killing myself alot, but never went through with it; why, I don't know. Maybe it was some sort of self-preservation instinct.

"When I came of age, I left my father behind and moved to Vicksburg. I tried to get work as a seamstress again, but I wasn't very successful at it. Being from a poor family without much schooling, I never managed to get really good jobs, so my income wasn't any better than it had been to that point. So I turned to the only thing I could think of to bring money in. Word got around quickly that I was a prostitute, and the few regular customers that I sewed for disappeared.

"By the time I had moved to Vicksburg, the Civil War had just started. We thought it could never touch us. God, we were so naïve. We thought that the reasons we were fighting were sure to beat the Yankees. Our naiveté turned to arrogance when all attempts to take the city failed. Nothing could touch us; we were invincible.

"Of course, that meant very little to me. My life hadn't changed any. Then again, I didn't see any reason for it to change. I had nothing else to live for, anyway, so I just kept doing what I was doing. As long as I wasn't dead, nothing would change. That was the belief that had instilled itself in me after 15 years of abuse.

"It was October 1862 when I met Frederick. He had been one of the richest men in Vicksburg before the war. As the Southern economy started to fail, he had naturally lost money, but he still had influence. I was on my usual walk one night, looking for a partner, when he drove up in his carriage. He invited me to his home, which was the most beautiful building that I'd ever been in.

"That night, I felt the bite for the first time. It hurt, but the longer he held my neck to him, the nicer it felt. It was like I was flying. I was flying to another world, a world of peace, forgetfulness, and calm. I came so hard, I passed out. When I opened my eyes, it was dawn, and Frederick was gone. His servants fed me the best breakfast I'd had in a long time, cleaned me, gave me some new clothes, and I left.

"For a couple of days, I stayed in my pitiful apartment room, waiting for him to knock on my door. I lay the clothes that his servants had given me on my bed every morning, eager to try them on. I never did, though, because I thought that if I ever put them on, their cleanness would be tainted. So, I kept wearing my usual clothes, and waited.

"After a couple of days, I realized that he wasn't coming back. So, I cried. I spent a whole day crying. My heart shattered. My mind rationalized my suffering with the idea that such hope wasn't meant for me. So, I started going out at night, and I was soon back to my usual routine.

"This went on for a couple of weeks. One night, Frederick's carriage pulled up beside me out of nowhere. I had secretly hoped that it would, but realized that what had happened was a one-time event. So when I saw his carriage again, I didn't want to go at first. Something about him persuaded me, though, and I went. Again, he bit me, and again, he was gone the next morning. This went on for several months. He'd pick me up once every couple of weeks, and for that one night, I waded in ignorance. I didn't care about the outside world, I forgot what I was, I ignored everything but him.

"He eventually told me what he was, and his story. I didn't really care; he took better care of me than anyone else I'd ever known. For those one night stands, I was willing to do anything for him, stay with him for all eternity if it came to that. I knew he wouldn't allow eternity, so I gave him my life. In exchange for the small slices of heaven I had when I was with him, I let him feed from me. It seemed fair.

"When I wasn't with him, the harsh world became worse. Over the winter, the Yankees had formed another plan to attack us. This one worked. We were surrounded by the middle of May, under siege. Still, we were confident that we'd be okay. The South wouldn't let us fall; we'd be saved. Soon, reality stepped in. With the daily cannon fire, the lack of food, and the sudden disease outbreaks, our arrogance turned to feelings of betrayal. We had felt so sure that we'd be rescued, but we continued to suffer.

"I suddenly found myself all but starving to death. I had managed to make ends meet before we were surrounded. But as the siege went on, and things became scarcer in the city, costs shot up. I was willing to take any form of money from the people I stayed with, no matter how little, as long as I was able to eat. I eventually had to start choking down rat meat, because it was cheaper than other things.

"Frederick continued to see me during the siege. We couldn't go to his home anymore because of Yankee cannons, but we found places of solitude. In exchange for some decent food and a chance to clean myself a little, I gave him my body and my life. I did it willingly, with no feeling of regret or hesitation like I had with everyone else I was with. The last time I saw him was a couple of weeks before we surrendered.

"Everything that happened that night is a blur. I was weak from hunger, and I think I had caught one of the diseases that were sweeping its way through the city. He drank from me longer than what he usually did, and I passed out not from pleasure, but from weakness. I remember drinking a warm liquid, and everything became dark.

"I don't know how long I was out. I'm sure I was delirious, hungry, ill, and maybe even bordering madness. When I woke up, I saw that I was in one of the caves that we had made to keep us safe from the Yankee artillery. I was hungry, too, but I didn't know for what. There was a little boy standing over me, watching me. That's when I knew what I wanted.

"I didn't waste any time. I didn't even look to see if there was anyone else around but us. I just reached up, pulled him down to me, and bit into his neck. He screamed, but I covered his mouth so all he could muster was a faint whimper. I'm sure I hurt him; I know I hurt him. I probably broke his arm where I grabbed him in my need.

"A rational part of me told me that what I was doing was wrong, that this wasn't right, that I had to stop. But I couldn't, he tasted so good. The hunger that I had felt for all those long weeks seemed to disappear the longer I drank from him. I remember feeling him struggle, but I didn't care."

"I can't imagine you doing that," Damian said, breaking his silence.

"When all you feel is hunger, your need to hunt takes over," Eliza said. "You're essentially a mindless beast, searching only for your next meal. Right, wrong, caution, thought...everything goes out the window. You have to fight with this monster to regain control of yourself. The ones of us that give up the fight, or let the monster out willingly, are the most dangerous of us."

"Is that what happened that first night? I didn't know what was going on, so I tried to push you away, but you wouldn't let go. You just kept drinking."

"Yes," Eliza said. "I hadn't fed in over a week by that point, and was struggling to keep myself in control. The little that I had taken from you while you were asleep only made the monster inside me want more. I finally lost control of it, and it nearly killed you. That's something you have to always be aware of. You can kill if you let yourself get out of hand."

She felt Damian sigh. "I'll remember. Please, go on."

Eliza closed her eyes, her mind going back. "Like I said, I hadn't bothered to see if anyone else was around. But there were. As soon as I attacked that boy, I was assaulted. I remember guns going off and things hitting me, but I didn't let him go. It wasn't until I realized that the shots hit me that I let the boy go and ran."

"Did you kill him?" Damian asked.

"No, I didn't. I almost did, though. You instinctively know how much blood you've taken from someone. It's probably a good thing, because you'll know when you've gone to far."

Damian kept silent.

"Fortunately," Eliza continued, "it was dark, and I ran through the streets, looking for shelter, someplace to hide, someplace for me to be safe. I found an abandoned home with a cellar. I stayed there for several days, venturing out to find animals that I could feed on. Suddenly, rats didn't taste so bad to me. Afraid that I'd lose control again, I stayed away from people entirely. If I came across a person, I ran.

"I learned alot of lessons the hard way those few days. Lessons about what happens when you lose control of your hunger, lessons about daylight and heat, and other things that I'll teach you later on. I didn't know what had happened. I didn't trust myself to try and find out. There was nobody I could ask, either. I found myself alone, but I was used to that feeling. It just seemed worse this time.

"I was on my nightly ventures when I saw some Yankees patrolling the streets. I was determined to find out what had happened. So, struggling to gain control of the monster inside me, I walked up to them, and asked. They thought it was strange for someone to not know what had happened, but they were patient. To my surprise, they were kind, too.

"Vicksburg had surrendered just a couple of days before. People were slowly going back to their homes, and the people that had been hoarding food during the siege were forced to open their doors and give the food out. Disease and starvation were still pretty widespread, but the siege was over, and things were, relatively speaking, improving.

"I was determined to find Frederick. I went to his house, but it was abandoned. It was a couple of more weeks before I found out what had happened to him. He had been killed by a hunter."

"A hunter?" Damian suddenly asked. "A vampire hunter?"

"Yes," Eliza said. "There were hunters then just as there are hunters now. Many of the hunters now actually work with us, searching for rogue vampires. They are well-trained and well-equipped, which is beneficial when one of us goes wild. As long as we don't kill, there's no need to fear most hunters. Of course, there are the exceptions that will kill a vampire to get rid of a vampire, but they are rare."

"What about the one that killed Frederick?"

"I think that person was one of those exceptions," Eliza answered. "I managed to find out who it was, several years later. He was one of the Confederate soldiers stationed at Vicksburg. When Vicksburg surrendered, he continued to fight, and was killed a few months later in one of the countless skirmishes of the war."

"So now that Frederick was gone, what did you do?"

"At the same time I was trying to find Frederick, there were people trying to find me. He had changed his will before our final meeting, giving me his entire estate if something happened; house, money, property, everything. Like I've said, alot of that had gone down in value, but there was enough."

Eliza could help the tears that came back into her eyes. She started to shake slightly, the memories and feelings overtaking her.

"What's wrong?" Damian asked, holding her tighter.

"I don't think that he meant for me to inherit anything," Eliza said. "I think he wanted me to marry into it. It wasn't supposed to happen this way."

Damian continued to stroke her, soothing her hair, whispering in her ear. "It's alright. Take your time, let it out," he said.

Eliza welcomed his touch, his soothing words. She took some deep, calming breaths and continued.

"He had entrusted a couple of men, who were mentioned in the will, to help me get everything back on track, and grow financially. They were both elderly, and still had large investments in the Northern, so their property was still pretty valuable.

"One of them I had met the previous year through my nightly wanderings, which made life easier, if not a little awkward. They didn't like the idea that Frederick had left everything to me, but they were respectful. I was eager to learn what they knew, so I spent alot of time with them, watching. I hired some private tutors, and did fairly well with their lessons, which surprised me. As my knowledge grew, I think the men that were managing my money also managed to respect me a little.

"Among Frederick's possessions that were left to me was a letter explaining what I was, the dangers of my new life, and the perks. Mostly, though, it was a letter of love and regret that he couldn't be there. Looking back on it, I realize that he had left a couple of things out, letting me figure them out on my own, but not everything.

"After my trustees died, I got full control over Frederick's money. From what I had learned, and what I've seen, I've managed to get richer. I've also met other vampires, who add new thoughts and opinions to our world. They also told me about the mating ritual, which I had never known about before. I've traveled the world, experiencing the lives and cultures of other people. I've come a long way from the poor seamstress that I used to be. In the end, though, something was missing."

"What?" Damian asked.

Eliza turned around, her eyes meeting his.

"A partner," she said. "Through all my travels, through all the years, I've been alone. Even though it was selfish of me to turn you, you've embraced my life. You haven't pulled away, even though you could have. Now, after more than 150 years, I think I've found that one person that makes my life feel complete."

"Who?" Damian asked, smiling.

Eliza didn't bother saying anything. She rolled her body to lie on top of his, and kissed him.