Here’s my theory: Mom was a duckbill platypus. Wyn rejects this theory, of course. Sometimes the scientist can’t see past the size of his test tube. My mom must have been a platypus in disguise – the way Zeus disguised himself as cows, eagles, and the ugly duckling. Platypuses are the only mammals to lay eggs. My mom couldn’t have given birth to me. She must have laid my egg. She must have sat on me too hard. That must be why I’m so broken.
Once upon a time I was a seven-teen-year-old girl named Mary Paige who’d suffered rejection and isolation. Once I was a human who’d sought ways to be alone. Often loneliness had been my only friend in the dark. But none of that mattered. I just wanted to stop hurting when people misunderstood me. I was misunderstood a lot – I was alone a lot – I was lonely a lot more – I was a secret breed of person: I could breathe underwater because I’d been drowning since the womb. I was a perfect platypus.
Today I’m still Mary Paige. Only now I am also a Blood Vivicanti. I can pierce your neck with my tongue. I will drink your blood. I will eat your memories. But in some ways I’m still the same girl I was.
I’ve always been an introvert living in an extrovert’s world. Extroverts used to try to make me stop being introverted. They seemed to think introversion was a sickness. Their cure was to cheerfully say to me: “To thine own self be true!” They seemed to think this was penicillin for the soul. I always thought it was a load of poppycock. Some seemed aware that Shakespeare had written that line. Fewer seemed to know that Shakespeare had given that line to Polonius in his play, The Tragedy of Hamlet, Prince of Denmark , called “Hamlet” for short. They had no idea that they were quoting the line of a doddering old flesh-monger. It was as if they were saying to me: In ignorance is conformity.
Of course, you’re supposed to be ignorant when a Blood Vivicanti pierces you. You’re not supposed to remember my tongue driving deep into your neck. You shouldn’t know I’m drinking your blood or eating your memories. You wouldn’t even remember what I look like. All you’d recall is the pure pleasure. Our venom fills you with so much pleasure that your mind forgets the pain. Yes: I am the first female platypus packed with venom.
But I remember when Wyn pierced me. I remember falling from the cliff. I remember my body breaking. I remember Wyn driving his tongue into my neck. I remember him drinking my blood. I’ve never forgotten all the pleasure that came.
I also remember Wyn picking me up as if I were as light as a leaf. He rushed me back to his mansion. He ran faster than wind. I lost consciousness. My eyes opened once or twice. I recall glimpsing some of my surroundings. There were white computers – silver instruments – beeping noises – bright lights glinting – Wyn looking down at me. And I was looking up at him. He was wearing a surgeon’s green mask over his mouth. I was wearing a white sheet. He was transferring blood into my veins. The blood was so bright it was almost glowing. It was the color of violets soaking in the sunshine.
I recall glimpsing more… A man was lying beside me. He was wearing a black loincloth. His whole body was hairless and smooth. He was very large and muscular. He seemed to gleam as if oiled. His eyes were open as he lay motionless as a statue. Once his chest rose and fell with a single breath. The way dolphins breathe twice an hour. This man’s skin was dark red. He is called simply: “The Red Man.” Tubes were also inserted into his veins. Flowing through the tubes was the glowing violet blood. And at first I thought the blood was going into him too. I was too dazed to realize the truth: The blood was coming from him.