I am working on the continuing parts of Wolfblood but ideas and writing never quite go as one plans. Admittedly, it's taking longer than I expected but I am working on it. In the meantime, this is one of those ideas that occurred to me and I have decided to keep it here while I work out a few more chapters. It's darker than Wolfblood and won't be so fluffy but I like it and I hope you will too. Without further ado, I give you Redemption.
*****
The rain fell down in thin sheets of drizzle, giving the world a softer and more tranquil appearance as the bustling in the small town died down and the cars reduced on the roads. A calm fell over the streets and Jacob watched silently from his apartment high above, knowing that no matter the appearance of the world, it still lay rotten to the core. Long and hard years over the centuries had shown him that no matter how thickly society sugar-coated itself with the functions and charities, the decay still continued deep beneath the surface. The humans themselves had learned to ignore it and for a while, it seemed like they had evolved, becoming more keen with each passing year, forcing his kind to adapt and set up an assembly to enforce rules that ensured that they survived. Rules that didn't sit too well with many of their kind and had eventually led to a massacre of the opposers in the previous century.
Jacob took one last look at the city and turned away from the small balcony he'd been standing on, moving quickly through the clean apartment to grab his jacket and car keys. There were few personal items in the rooms and that's how he liked it, for everything to remain pristine and impersonal; there really wasn't any place he belonged to. The parasitic life he'd been sired to almost half a millennium ago had made sure of that. On days like these, when the world did not seem so cruel and the pain he'd suffered at the hands of his own kind had diminished, he liked to remind himself that they had dragged him into this life and had promptly abandoned him thereafter. It would be a fatal mistake to start feeling hopeful about his species. In the slums of 16
th
century England, the family he'd so faithfully served had dumped him and left him to die of the Plague, thus leaving him to the mercy of the creatures that would later find him. Perhaps the plague would have been a better fate...no; no, death was never a better fate.
He closed the door to his apartment and headed through the corridors to the elevator. It was a standard building and he'd been impressed when he'd moved in 3 years ago, having easily believed, like many others, that Africa had little to offer in the way of comfort. There he was however, in Burundi, a small country on the eastern side of the continent and enjoying himself. It was a far cry from the life he'd been living while still on The Council and that was the reason he'd decided to move there, for while they'd never think to look for him in Eastern Africa, he still had the very basics that made life interesting for him and he blended in with the locals. His dark skin and quick adaptation to the different cultures and accents of the world helped him stay unremarkable in the small country and thus safe. For all effective purposes, he was a normal looking guy, not too tall at exactly 6 feet, and having a lean frame that spoke of athleticism more than body-building, add to that his short black hair and bland brown eyes and no one could pick him out of a crowd. That's the way he liked it. The elevator came to a stop in the basement and he headed towards his car, eager to get away from the building.
Vampires, the humans called them and while he found the term in use at the time he'd been sired to the cursed life, it was used more frequently with each passing decade. It probably had something to do with the portrayal of bloodsuckers that was becoming disgustingly popular in the media, but he preferred that to the demonic-looking illustrations artists had used in the past, striking dread in the hearts of the populace and so making quality blood, untainted by fear, that much harder to find. Then again, perhaps that had been a problem only he had encountered for no one had taught him how to seduce and lure humans telepathically. He'd had to teach himself that and had shattered quite a few minds before he'd found a way to drift along with the human mind's thoughts, placing his own suggestions there unnoticed. It was that very ability that had made him so coveted to The Council for not even their best could work a mind quite like he could.
It was a short drive to his favorite café and he parked the car, eager to walk in and have the thick aroma of coffee override every other scent in the air, thus enabling him to suppress his craving for blood. His life had settled into quite a simple routine, have a blood meal once a day at 4am, before anyone in the apartment building was up to feel the spike in his aura, and suppress it until the very next meal. While Jacob needed blood to survive, he was not addicted to it for unlike food to humans, blood to vampires increased the hunger for it; one could never quite have enough. In the situations where the human scents became too much for his control, he'd head over to the café, have his fill of coffee and reestablish his equilibrium. Safe to say, he was at the café a lot but it wouldn't do to feed often for as a vampire feeds, everything it is becomes unveiled including its true nature, calling out to any other vampire within the area. Jacob couldn't afford to be found.
He pushed open the café door and took a deep breath, smiling as the rich aromas of the various coffee beans mixed and wafted towards him. Coffee and alcohol were really the only two drinks he could stomach and even at that, there was a limit to what he could take before his body rejected the contents and expelled them. Jacob walked over to his usual secluded spot, vaguely noticing a few familiar faces scattered over the mostly empty café and he sat down, making eye contact with a waitress before glancing outside the window next to him to see that the drizzle was not letting up. He ordered his usual, a long black, plain and direct with no additives and no cookies along to sweeten it further. His order came back pretty quickly and he took a sip, reveling in the rich flavor, as he absentmindedly scanned the room.
In the three years he'd spent in Burundi, he'd come across exactly five others of his kind that he could identify. They were making no effort to suppress their auras and he had sensed them from miles away before they ever crossed his path, though not intentionally. Jacob himself had sought them out, wanting to know if they were Council affiliated, as slim as the chances were and getting relieved every time he found they weren't. If he was discovered, he'd be sure that any vampire The Council sent to collect him would not be easily detected and that's why he stuck to specific rules. The idea that The Council would attempt to recover him even after he'd left, having served the time with them that he'd sworn he would, infuriated him. His skill was singular and thus valuable to them but it was his, nonetheless and the arrogant dogs had not taught him a single thing. No, instead, a lone vampire had played with and tortured him for days after he was left for dead by the family that had owned him...the only family he'd ever known. He'd finally been sired and abandoned, left alone to the agony that was his brain adapting to his heightened senses and the raging bloodlust that came with it. It had been months before he could finally venture out in public without worrying that he'd rip some unsuspecting human to shreds, his remorse powerful after every feeding, especially when it was a child.
Jacob shifted uncomfortably, alarm rising sharply as he realized that the painful memories were affecting him as intensely as they always did, the deep anger making the control on his aura slip. His hold on the coffee cup tightened as he bowed his head in concentration, the control still slipping steadily as he fought to gain a handle on it, knowing that he couldn't risk his aura broadcasting in such an open space. He lost the fight and his aura was released, making him swear in frustration and as a result, drawing the attention of the few people in the café. He could see the surprise in their eyes and smell the acrid scent of their sudden fear as something in them overcame their logic, convincing them that despite what they were seeing, he was to be feared; a predator. The reaction was always the same and he'd grown tired of it; the confusion and fear mixing as the humans reacted instinctively to the vampire aura without understanding why.
He sighed and breathed deeply, readying himself to reestablish control before anyone picked up on his true nature only to stop short, his breath coming out in a startled exhale. What the devil was
that
