Blood is the new Black

Prologue

My head was parallel to the slick, black pavement as I watched my attacker walk away with my new patent leather Gucci evening bag containing my Prada phone, several maxed out credit cards and my drivers licence. My body screamed in agony from the single knife wound in my back and, although far from being a medical professional, I instinctively knew the shining silver blade had sliced through my spinal cord, rendering me completely paralysed. I also suspected that the death that I was certain was going to reach me, would not be quick and apparently it wasn't going to be painless.

          The intoxication that had previously overcome me and forced me to step out into the dark alley for some air was now completely gone and in my rambling mind I made a mental note that if a miracle saved me I would remember this as the perfect hangover cure. I stifled a delirious giggle and immediately regretted it as another sharp pain coursed through my body. I cursed myself for being so stupid. I had grown up in London and had prided myself on being fairly street smart. I had even taken a self-defence course that one of the bars I had worked in years ago had paid for. It was at that point, lying in a dark alleyway in a pool of my own blood, that I wished I had paid more attention to ‘how to fend off attacks from behind' and less attention to the Personal Trainer's biceps.

          I was also embarrassingly aware of how much of a target I had made myself. Even a moron knows not to wander very far from people and lights and into a dark alley at three in the morning. It was at this point I remembered the advertisements informing you of how alcohol affects your decision-making and reaction times and a new regret surfaced. The regret that I had accepted that last shot from that impossibly attractive man at the bar. I didn't even like Sambuca, and was fairly certain the nauseous look on my face that I shot him, before I stumbled away from the bar wouldn't have impressed him enough that he'd want to come looking for me. I probably won't be found until the morning when the staff will be taking the glass out to the bins and by that time it would be too late.

          As I lay on the black floor, my groans becoming weaker by the second, I realised I should probably honour the ones I loved in my dying moments. I'm pretty sure I loved my parents, if only for the fact that they were the ones that brought me into this World, but try as I might, at that particular point in time I could not think of any redeeming qualities that would have fostered a more intense feeling of affection for them. Lets face it, to me they were simply a source of money and to them, I was a financial liability that they had given birth to. What made it worse was that I was an only child so I had no brothers or sisters to complain about my parents to and no one to sympathise with me. I sighed and ticked parents off my mental list of ‘who to remember when I die'.

          There was also of course, my boyfriend Sam, but since he was the reason I had been drinking myself into oblivion that night, it was quite hard to think of him with affection while I was lying on the floor, paralysed and bleeding to death. Bloody idiot, I thought bitterly to myself.

          In fact, I realised the only thing in my life I felt any affection for in my final moments were my new Manolo Blahnik heels that I was currently wearing. How fitting that I was about to die in them, I thought morbidly. Til death us do part.
While I felt like I had lain there for hours cursing, cracking macabre jokes and reminiscing my short and uneventful life, in reality it was merely minutes before unconsciousness beckoned me. My heart was slowing, along with the blood pumping from my stab wound. My eyelids were getting heavier by the second and the darkness was encroaching rapidly on my vision. With one last effort I reached my hand out to the angel waiting before me to take me to that better place.

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Chapter 1
          There was a flash of red and suddenly the pain was no longer restricted to my spine. It felt like every inch of me was on fire from the inside. The pain started in my head and coursed through my veins. I tried to scream but no sound came, I tried to move but the pain intensified. I fought to open my eyes but when I did, all I could see was a thick veil of red. I was vaguely aware of floating through the darkened streets of London and wondered whether death should be so vivid. My senses went into overdrive; I could hear people arguing in their second storey flat, a car driving off three streets away and then, in a flash of blinding pain, nothing. The World was silent except for one sound, my own heart beating. The beats echoed in my head and every thump sent new pain coursing through my body. Thump... Thump... THUMP...

          With the last beat of my heart my whole body shook. The pain shattered through every fibre of my being and with the last of my strength I summoned an ear-piercing scream that echoed through the moonlit streets. The pain lessened to a dull roar inside me, and darkness swiftly enveloped me.

          My eyes fluttered open and understanding flooded through me. I was surrounded by a golden glow and floating towards a soft, yellow light in the distance. I was completely at peace and amazed to be greeted by a face so familiar yet so strange. By the shock of white hair and flash of green eyes, I knew it was my Grandmother standing before me. Yet her skin was perfectly smooth, free of the wrinkles and ravages of old age. Standing before me, she smiled and held out one of her porcelain hands. As I reached out to take her hand, her warm smile suddenly transformed into a menacing grin, her beckoning hand into a vicious claw and her kind eyes into fiery hollows. Suddenly the golden hue that bathed everything darkened and the face I no longer recognised before me broke into manic laughter. I stumbled back in shock and heard a huge rip as a crack appeared in the ground in front of me. The crack quickly made its way toward me and, as if in a dream, my feet would not move an inch. I stared in shock as the ground opened up and I could see the hell that I would inevitably be dragged into. The moment the crack reached my foot, I forced my eyes shut and felt the sensation of falling and tried not to think of what would happen when I reached my ultimate destination.

          My body jolted and my eyes shot open. It took a few seconds to realise, with surprise that I was still alive and not in the pits of hell. The burning pain had returned however, and an involuntary scream escaped me and I thrashed about. Realising it would do no good and would only prolong my agony, I gritted my teeth and steadied myself to take a good look around. It took a few seconds for my eyes to adjust and I was surprised to find myself lying across the back seat of a car. The interior was plush leather and I felt vaguely guilty for bleeding all over it. I couldn't see the driver, as I did not want to move or sit up for fear of worsening the pain. At the angle I was laying, I could not see where we were going but was acutely aware that we were getting there fast, very fast. Despite my pain, my curiosity overcame me and I struggled to sit up. At the sudden movement, the pain awakened once again and sent another wave through me. I collapsed back on to the seat and this time entered a dreamless unconsciousness

          I'm not sure how long this went on for. It felt like months of slipping in and out of consciousness, the pain never completely going away. My mysterious saviour had moved me to a bedroom, which I managed to piece together from glimpses in between passing out. I was lying on a huge modern bed dressed with black satin sheets and pillows with a simple black headboard behind me. The walls were a dark maroon colour and the heavy curtains drawn at the window were also black. The room was completely devoid of light and other than the bed and bedside table with a simple black reading lamp there were no other furnishings. There was nothing to give me any clues as to the identity of my saviour, no pictures, no books on the bedside table, nothing. The only thing I was certain of was that my saviour was a he. I could tell by the minimalist, yet masculine décor and in the back of my pain addled brain I registered a faint smell of a musky men's cologne. Whoever he was, he left me alone the entire time. I don't recall him ever entering to give me medicine, food, water. I wondered why he hadn't taken me to a hospital and for a brief moment had the sickening thought that my attacker had come back to have more fun with me. I quickly dismissed this thought when I realised it was highly unlikely that a thief lurking in the shadows to mug defenceless women was not the kind of person to drive a fancy car. The pain had now moved to my head and the throbbing forced me to stop thinking and enter unconsciousness for the last time.

          When I came to, I was relieved to find the pain was finally gone but remained where I was just to be sure that it wouldn't return. After a few minutes of pain free silence, I ventured to open my eyes and look around. I was still in the same room but I was now looking at it with different eyes. The dark cell that had previously kept me prisoner with my pain was now my personal rescue haven. Whilst there was still not even an inch of sunlight penetrating the room, the room somehow seemed brighter, more welcoming, and the door leading to the unknown outside was the light at the end of the tunnel. Two possibilities ran simultaneously through my mind. The first, and most likely, was that I had finally given up on my life and was preparing myself for whatever lay beyond the metaphorical door. The second possibility was that by some miracle I had survived a seemingly fatal stab wound. My money was on option one and scary as it seemed, I was just glad that the pain was finally over. Drawing up the courage to move more than my eyeballs, I slowly pulled myself up into a sitting position. No pain. In fact, I had never felt healthier. Option one was seeming ever more likely by the second. I sighed as I finally came to terms with my own mortality. I swung my legs off the bed and for the first time realised I was still dressed in the blood encrusted little black dress from that fateful night. I chuckled when I realised the powers that be must have a sense of humour otherwise they would certainly have dressed me in something a little more glamorous for the occasion. I looked down at my bare feet and frowned at the absence of my Manolo's. Nearly a whole fortnights pay check and I had only got one use out of them. Brilliant.

          I stood up swiftly, reeling slightly from dizziness, which I quickly recovered from. Still no pain though. I walked around the front of the bed and faced the door that was standing between me and my afterlife. I tried not to think what lay beyond but was quietly hoping for the textbook vision of heaven. Only one way to find out, I thought as I reached my hand out to the doorknob and turned it slowly. Hesitating briefly I pulled the door open and gasped at what I saw.

          I was in a hallway. Oh, it was going to be one of those journeys to the afterlife. With a sigh, I stepped into the spacious hallway and looked around me. To the left was a dead end with a telephone on the wall. I wondered whom you could call from heaven. Or hell. Or wherever it was that I found myself. Directly in front of me were another two doors but I really wasn't in the mood for hide and seek right now so I decided on going left down the stairs. I took the stairs slowly, looking around me. It looked like a fairly old house, well decorated though. The staircase curved slightly round to the right and before me was more options. The front door was directly in front of me and I was reasonably sure this was the logical direction to take if I wanted to see what lay beyond life, as we know it. I took a step towards the front door and hesitated. I stole a glance behind me, which looked like it led to a huge industrial type, stainless steel kitchen. Well, its good to see there is home improvement shows in the afterlife, I giggled. To my right, though was another room. The door was open just a crack and something beyond the door seemed to beckon me. Trying to ignore the temptation I took another step towards the front door. Reaching my hand out I froze, hovering above the handle. Well, you only get one afterlife right? I might as well take my time. I spun around and flung the door open leading to a spacious living room.

          I gasped. The room was immaculately decorated. There was a state of the art Plasma screen on the wall to my left. The walls and carpet were a stylish cream colour and the furniture was classy black leather In the middle of the room was a single glass coffee table with two glasses and a bottle of wine. The most astonishing part about this room, however, was the man sitting casually in one of the leather armchairs, leaning on one hand with a curious grin on his face. He was unbelievably attractive with short blonde hair, sparkling blue eyes and a square jaw. At first glance I guessed his age at around 40, but on closer inspection, the complete lack of lines and wrinkles made me unsure. He was dressed smartly in a fitted black polo shirt which perfectly displayed his muscular chest, black slacks and black dress shoes. 

          ‘Good evening' said the apparition before me, his voice as smooth as velvet ‘You've made good time, I was just about to pour myself a drink. I think you might like one'.

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Chapter 2
          I stood in the doorway staring at the stranger before me with my mouth wide open. The handsome man chuckled and got out of his seat. He stretched a hand out to me.

‘Name's Aedin'.

Instinct made me reach out and meet his firm grip, but I was still unable to say anything remotely intelligible. As I shook his hand I forced myself to concentrate and say something.

         ‘Am I dead?' I stammered.

Aedin looked at me intensely and a flash of pain passed in front of his bright blue eyes.

         ‘Yes' he answered. I let out a sigh. ‘But not in the traditional sense' he added.
I snapped my head up and looked at him as if he were insane.

         ‘Excuse me, but what other sense is there?'

Aedin closed his eyes and lowered his head. ‘Well,' he sighed and looked directly at me again ‘You are dead in the sense that your heart no longer beats. You no longer need oxygen to sustain life. You don't need to eat, sleep, or hydrate yourself. In all those ways, you are dead.'

         ‘Right. So am I in heaven, or hell?' I asked.

         ‘Well, you're in the English countryside, call it what you will' he shrugged with the barest hint of a smile.

         It was at this point I decided to go along with the joke. I was beyond confused. ‘The countryside' I pondered. ‘Hell it is then.'

         Aedin looked amused and let a deep laugh escape from his throat. He was unbelievably sexy, I thought. This could be a good afterlife after all.

    ‘Can I get you a drink' he offered

    It was then that I realised how thirsty I was. My mouth felt like I had been trekking through the desert for days. But the thirst was more intense than I had ever felt. I gritted my teeth to ignore it as it threatened to overtake my whole body. I clenched my fists and my nails dug hard into my palms making little red moon shaped marks. I swallowed the pain and fought to clear my head. Aedin was staring at me with narrowed eyes. It was then that I recognised him.

         ‘Wait, you're the guy from that night. You bought me the Sambuca! Well, obviously you're in my afterlife, you're one of the last people I saw when I was alive'. I muttered to myself. Now it was Aedin's turn to look at me as If I were the crazy one.

         ‘You do realise you're not in the afterlife. You won't find heaven or hell anywhere near here. You are in the English countryside. I found you in the alleyway that night and brought you back here. That was three nights ago. You've been in my bedroom the entire time and I assure you, you are a very long way from the Pearly Gates.'

I paused to register what he had just told me. Frustration boiled up inside me.

         ‘You, are not making sense. First you tell me I'm dead, and then I'm not dead. Which is it mister? ‘Cus I'm not stupid. I know that stab wound was fatal, I couldn't have lived.' I was quickly losing my temper with Aedin the Angel or devil, or whoever the hell he was.

         ‘Fine. I was hoping I could get a drink down you to calm you down before I had to explain this, but I see patience is not one of your virtues'

          I resisted the urge to stick my tongue out at him. It would have been childish and serve absolutely no purpose than to make me look like a spoilt princess. This was the man that held my fate in his hands after all.

         ‘You're body is dead. It was near death when I found you in that alley. The, shall we say, medicine, I gave you destroyed the last of your vital functions. If you were to go into a hospital right now and be monitored, you would be considered clinically dead. You with me so far?'

         ‘Yeah, ok. I'm dead. I get that part' I answered back

         ‘But as you can clearly see, you aren't in a morgue or six feet underground. The medicine I gave you allows you, not to live as such, but to exist in the same universe'

         I looked at him in amazement, still unable to comprehend what he was saying. Suddenly a stabbing pain in my stomach made me realise the thirst I was denying had surfaced once again.

         ‘I think I need that drink now' I said whilst doubled over in pain.
Aedin nodded and turned to the two glasses on the table. I concentrated on overcoming my pain while he poured the delicous smelling liquid into the two glasses. He held one of the glasses out to me and smiled as he touched the tip of his to mine

         ‘Cheers. Heres to new beginnings'.

         ‘Whatever' I murmured. I looked briefly at the red liquid in the glass and wasn't certain that it would quench my thirst but was grateful for it anyway. It must have been a lucky guess that he knew red wine was my preferred poison. I lifted the cup to my lips and quickly drained it. As the warm liquid trickled down my throat every inch of me felt more alive than ever. The drink warmed every part of me from my throat to the pit of my stomach. I had never tasted anything so delicious, it was like that top shelf spirit you could never afford but ten times better. I had never experienced or tasted anything like it before. There was only one other experience that even came close and that was only on a good day.

         When the glass was empty I stared up at Aedin in awe. He had been staring at me the whole time and hadn't even touched his drink. I thought about asking him if I could have his but with a great deal of restraint I stopped myself. Aedin's smile was back on his face

         ‘What on Earth was that drink?'

         Aedin chuckled ‘You're lucky. That's my best drop. It was given to me by a French monk and is apparently over 200 years old.' Before I could truly digest what he was saying and with my mind still on the glorious drink, Aedin asked ‘So, are you going to tell me you're name?'

         ‘Hmm? Oh, my name. Katrina, Kat. Hey, are you gonna drink yours? It would be a waste not to ya know.' I couldn't stop myself. I'd always been a slave to nice things.

         Aedin offered me his drink and watched me drain his glass too. The same sensations flooded through me and I realised if this temptation was always here I would become an alcoholic very quickly.

         ‘Listen Katrina, I haven't been completely open with you. Now you've had a few drinks I believe you need to know the entire truth'. Aedin suddenly looked very serious and offered me a seat on the leather sofa. I sat down beside him and tried to forget the bottle with no label sitting on the coffee table, the scent constantly beckoning me.

         ‘Firstly, do you have any questions regarding your rescue' he asked.

         ‘Are you kidding? Did you see the guy? How did you know I was there? Why didn't you take me to a hospital... Oh and what was the medicine you gave me?'

         ‘Woah, ok one at a time. No I did not see your attacker. I knew you were there because I heard you scream. I didn't take you to hospital because I knew I could save you in my own way.'

         ‘And the medicine?

         Aedin looked at me with an intense look of contemplation on his face.

         ‘The medicine... was my blood'. He answered after a considerable pause.
Silence

I searched his face for any sign that he was joking. He would be awful to play against in poker because he looked completely blank and unreadable the entire time. So far I had been willing to play the game but this was getting beyond a joke.

         I laughed a nervous laugh. In the back of my mind I wondered if I had just jumped out of the frying pan of the thief with the knife and into the fire of an insane angel that lives in the countryside. This thought made me giggle and Aedin looked at me surprised.

‘So you're telling me' my giggle turning into laughter, ‘That I was dying. You heard my screams from inside a noisy club, found me and medicated me with your own blood which saved my ‘life'?' Alarm bells were going off in my head. Something was sounding very familiar with this scenario. ‘Wait a second.' Still laughing ‘Next your going to tell me that drink you gave me was blood too' I had now reached the height of manic laughter when it dawned on me the glass was still in my hand with the dregs in the bottom. In horror I looked down and realised the thickness of the drink could never be confused with red wine. The colour of the liquid was red, too red, blood red. The goblet slipped out of my hand and onto the carpet. The few drops left in the bottom of the glass sprayed on the cream floor and I stared wide eyed in horror as I realised what I had been drinking.

         ‘Hmm. Mental note, cream floors and new Vampires are not a good combination' said Aedin dryly as he eyed me warily.

         I snapped my head up and looked at Aedin in horror when he mentioned the word Vampire.

         ‘Do you really expect me to believe I'm a Vampire? You're a Vampire?' I asked incredulously.

         Kameron shrugged and said as naturally as if I had asked him if he found Monty Python amusing ‘Sure, why not?'

         ‘You don't have fangs' I challenged.

         ‘No, but our teeth are razor sharp, easily able to slice through, well, whatever you need to slice through. Even so, its not as tidy as Hollywood would have you believe.'

         ‘You're not pale'.
         ‘That's because I'm well fed. If we get too thirsty or if we go out in the sun too much we lose our colour. You should have a look at yourself, three days without nourishment. You're as white as a ghost.'

         I glared at him, ‘I'm naturally pale' I challenged. ‘Anyway, Vampires can't go out in the sun' I scoffed.

         ‘Actually, that's a myth. We can go out in the sun but we're certainly not at our strongest and being in full sunlight hurts like a bad sunburn... so basically its not recommended' he answered calmly.

         ‘Aha, I'm wearing a crucifix' I triumphantly pulled at the gold necklace around my neck. I was sure I had won the argument with that.

         ‘Another myth. So is garlic and holy water. We can even go into churches if we desire' Damn, i thought to myself, he had an answer for everything.

         ‘Right. So we can't die?' I asked mockingly with emphasis on the ‘we'. I made it very clear that I did not believe him. I ignored the blood stained carpet  because I hadn't come up with a rational explanation for that yet... Food colouring and corn starch perhaps...

         ‘We can die. Fire will kill us and so will beheading but short of that we're practically invincible. We can feel pain but we heal almost instantly. And before you ask, we cannot turn into bats or wolves and there is no such person as Dracula.'

         I stared at Aedin in shock with my mouth open.

         ‘And you drink human blood?' I asked, not attempting to hide the disgust in my voice.

         ‘Blood is the only thing we truly need to exist. We can abstain altogether but we will eventually slip into a sleep like state. We can live off animal blood but its not ideal. Human blood is, but in this day and age we rarely, if ever, have to murder for it.'

         ‘Ha right, so how do you get it then?'

         ‘Blood banks, hospitals, people that are close to death that aren't going to miss a few drops. Unfortunately blood is a valuable commodity both for us and the living so more often than not we have to live on blood which is, well, substandard.'

         ‘What do you mean?' I questioned, momentarily swept up by the insane conversation.

         Aedin finally seemed relieved that I appeared to believe him and relaxed into the sofa. ‘Well, as Vampires, all our senses are finely attuned, heightened, if you will. I'm sure you can smell the blood from those few drops on the carpet. You can smell the delicious aroma surely?'

         Damn. He'd got me there. The entire time the smell had been in the back of my nostrils, inviting me, enticing me to have another drop. It wasn't until Kameron mentioned it that I realised it wasn't just the sweet memory but the actual smell of the freshly spilt blood. Aedin looked triumphant as I stared like a madwoman at the ruby drops on the carpet. I forced my eyes up and was surprised to find Aedin was at the table pouring another glass of... blood. With a smile he held out the glass, which I reluctantly took although for the time being I was determined to refrain from drinking it. Aedin took the seat next to me again.

         ‘As I was saying, our senses are heightened, particularly in regards to blood. We can hear it pumping through their veins. We can tell when people are embarrassed, excited, scared or aroused by the sound and sight of blood rushing to the surface of the skin. We can smell a drop of spilt blood in the immediate vicinity. That's also how I knew you were in the alleyway. You're blood smelt like Vodka and licorice.' He smiled.

         I grimaced at the memory.

          ‘Anyway, Sometimes the blood we get supplied from hospitals is not what we call ‘clean' blood. Disease taints the smell and taste of the blood. Unfortunately its something we have to learn to live with. We can't always enjoy premium 200 year old blood.' As he finished, he nodded towards the cup in my hand. The sweet scent was drifting up to entice me and with a reserved sigh I lifted the cup to my lips. I closed my eyes in an effort to ignore the reality of what I was drinking and took a small sip. I savoured the taste instead of draining the cup and the taste was just as good as I remembered.

‘Oh my god' I muttered ‘this cannot be happening'.

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