shoulders of the tall man and I’m half walked, half dragged to the black leather chair. I gratefully collapse into it and notice the dark stain of a blood-soaked, once white shirt that is tied around my upper thigh. The blond man is shirtless … did he save me? If so, he did it without operating on me. How so?
I begin to panic, wondering why I can’t feel any pain in the area. Maybe I’m not alive. Am I dreaming?
Thoughts begin to flood my brain as I stare up at the two complete strangers before me.
The red-haired woman sits in a chair opposite me and asks, “How are you feeling?”
I strain to answer her. “Strange.” My throat is raw and my voice raspy.
“You’re faring better than most, considering your circumstances.”
I ask slowly, cautiously, “Which are?”
The large man moves closer to her, as if sensing my confusion and agitation. Does he think I mean her harm? Not likely. I can barely move.
“Severin, there is something you need to know, but before I tell you, please understand that you are amongst friends who will never harm you. One day you may even come to know us as family.”
Is this woman delusional ? She is dressed strangely, as if from a foreign time and from long ago. She wears no corset and her lush chest is on display, barely concealed beneath the snow-white velvet of her seductive gown. A headband of twisted gold leaves adorns her waist length hair. I must be unconscious and dreaming because if this mysterious woman wasn’t strange enough, I find myself sitting in a vast room that appears to be of Moorish design. But that’s impossible. There’s nothing like this outside of Northern Africa and Spain.
Quickly I demand, “ Where am I?”
Instantly she replies, “Spain.”
“Spain?” The word falls from my lips before I even know I uttered it.
“Yes, Severin. You are in our home in Seville, Spain. Here … I brought your beloved rapier so that you would have something from your past life.”
I press my hand to my forehead in disbelief as I repeat, “Past life?”
She opens my trembling hand, presses the hilt of my sword into my palm, and curls my fingers closed around it. Leaning in to look at me with those gleaming eyes, she says gently, “The life you knew before is over, Severin. Your wound from the swordfight was fatal. I turned you just before your heart stopped.”
I can’t breathe, can’t think …. It feels like I’ve been thrown into an arctic sea. I must know ….
In just above a strangled whisper I ask, “Turned me … into what? ”
Her soft hand still covers mine. Anxiously, I wait for her response and watch as she looks up at the large male standing over her shoulder. He stares down at her and nods once. Her eyes meet mine once again, and for the first time in my life I’m frightened, because within them I see a myriad of conflicting emotions. Suddenly I want nothing more than to shut down my senses. If I can’t hear her then I don’t have to know what’s coming.
The words that would forever be etched into my soul fall from her shimmering pink lips, “A vampire, Severin. You’re like us now—a vampire.”
I stare into her face, utterly dumfounded.
After several seconds my head shakes slowly back and forth and I manage to mutter, “No. Not possible.”
The man speaks up, his clear voice distinctly British, “That’s what I bloody thought as well, mate. It’s all right; the shock will wear off before long. I’m called Ambrose, by the way.”
I struggle to stand, dazed and in shock. I manage to make it to my feet, and still clutching my rapier I say, “I have to get out of here. My family ….”
With a look of sadness in her eyes, the woman says, “I’m sorry, Severin. One day you may be able to see them, but not now. You must rest. You’ve been through so much today.”
“No, you don’t understand—”
She cuts me off as she rises to her feet in one impossibly fluid blur of movement that makes me gasp. “Ah, but I do,
I begin to panic, wondering why I can’t feel any pain in the area. Maybe I’m not alive. Am I dreaming?
Thoughts begin to flood my brain as I stare up at the two complete strangers before me.
The red-haired woman sits in a chair opposite me and asks, “How are you feeling?”
I strain to answer her. “Strange.” My throat is raw and my voice raspy.
“You’re faring better than most, considering your circumstances.”
I ask slowly, cautiously, “Which are?”
The large man moves closer to her, as if sensing my confusion and agitation. Does he think I mean her harm? Not likely. I can barely move.
“Severin, there is something you need to know, but before I tell you, please understand that you are amongst friends who will never harm you. One day you may even come to know us as family.”
Is this woman delusional ? She is dressed strangely, as if from a foreign time and from long ago. She wears no corset and her lush chest is on display, barely concealed beneath the snow-white velvet of her seductive gown. A headband of twisted gold leaves adorns her waist length hair. I must be unconscious and dreaming because if this mysterious woman wasn’t strange enough, I find myself sitting in a vast room that appears to be of Moorish design. But that’s impossible. There’s nothing like this outside of Northern Africa and Spain.
Quickly I demand, “ Where am I?”
Instantly she replies, “Spain.”
“Spain?” The word falls from my lips before I even know I uttered it.
“Yes, Severin. You are in our home in Seville, Spain. Here … I brought your beloved rapier so that you would have something from your past life.”
I press my hand to my forehead in disbelief as I repeat, “Past life?”
She opens my trembling hand, presses the hilt of my sword into my palm, and curls my fingers closed around it. Leaning in to look at me with those gleaming eyes, she says gently, “The life you knew before is over, Severin. Your wound from the swordfight was fatal. I turned you just before your heart stopped.”
I can’t breathe, can’t think …. It feels like I’ve been thrown into an arctic sea. I must know ….
In just above a strangled whisper I ask, “Turned me … into what? ”
Her soft hand still covers mine. Anxiously, I wait for her response and watch as she looks up at the large male standing over her shoulder. He stares down at her and nods once. Her eyes meet mine once again, and for the first time in my life I’m frightened, because within them I see a myriad of conflicting emotions. Suddenly I want nothing more than to shut down my senses. If I can’t hear her then I don’t have to know what’s coming.
The words that would forever be etched into my soul fall from her shimmering pink lips, “A vampire, Severin. You’re like us now—a vampire.”
I stare into her face, utterly dumfounded.
After several seconds my head shakes slowly back and forth and I manage to mutter, “No. Not possible.”
The man speaks up, his clear voice distinctly British, “That’s what I bloody thought as well, mate. It’s all right; the shock will wear off before long. I’m called Ambrose, by the way.”
I struggle to stand, dazed and in shock. I manage to make it to my feet, and still clutching my rapier I say, “I have to get out of here. My family ….”
With a look of sadness in her eyes, the woman says, “I’m sorry, Severin. One day you may be able to see them, but not now. You must rest. You’ve been through so much today.”
“No, you don’t understand—”
She cuts me off as she rises to her feet in one impossibly fluid blur of movement that makes me gasp. “Ah, but I do,
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