(Un)Invited

Truth

What woke you up was a tapping at the window, causing you to stir and turn towards it incredulously, sleep still clinging heavily to your eyelids. You jump to your feet, eyes wide when you see who's there.

Michael is at the window, tapping his finger on the glass, asking to be allowed in. A part of you doesn't want to let him in, doesn't want anything to do with him; yet you find yourself walking towards the window and opening it, allowing him in.

"I'm glad that you're safe," he says sincerely.

"Where were you?" You demand.

He frowns, understanding your anger, "Abbadon sent a group of his most ruthless goons after me, by the time I killed them and got to your house it was too late."

You couldn't deny that you were happy to see him, as much as you hated to admit it; but that didn't change the fact that he had some answers to give you.

"They told me about my mother," you state, crossing your arms.

He stares at you blankly for a few moments before signing, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose, "How much did they tell you?"

You retort, "How long did you know that your brother killed my mother?"

His shoulders sag slightly and he looks into your eyes with sadness, "I've always known."

Balling your hands into fists, you demand, "Did you send him to do it?"

"What?" He says, offended.

"Did you send Abbadon to kill her?"

"No," he asserts, then looks away for a moment, as if into the distant past, "But it was my fault."

You believe him despite your mind screaming at you not to. With a weary sigh, you ask, "What do you mean?"

"Mallory and the witches who rescued you are hunters of my kind," he explains, "I struck a deal with them many years ago in order to foster a sense of order for my people. Vampires were forbidden to kill for food and in return, only those who broke this law would be hunted. Mallory was the best of these hunters..." his eyes fill with sorrow, "and my friend. It was an unexpected friendship but a true one. She believed the best in people, thought that there was a way for vampires and humans to live in peace; which we did relatively...until she had a child."

He looks at you, "A child born beneath a blood moon."

You tilt your head, "A blood moon?"

"Those born under a blood moon are...particularly attractive to vampires. My brother, to incite war, killed Mallory, but she had hidden you away," he furrows his brows as if in pain, "I found her dying and she made me swear to protect you from my brother and all other vampires. And I did."

You think back to what he'd told you when you'd asked why he came to your home. I was hungry, he said, and he hadn't been lying. After years of resisting he'd finally drank the forbidden.

And in doing so, ruined your life.

"Until you couldn't help yourself and drank my blood," you grimace at him, "You broke your vow."

He looks abashed, unable to meet your gaze again, "Not a day goes by where I do not feel shame for it."

"Well, your shame doesn't fix my life, does it?!" You suddenly explode, "Everything I've known was turned upside down because of you."

He takes a step forward, daring to grasp your shoulders and look at you finally, "I know I cannot ask you to forgive me, but I am determined to keep my promise to my friend. The witches may have killed his coven, but Abbadon is still out there. I swear to you that I will find him and kill him for what he's done."

Something about his eyes always soothes you, make you melt into his touch. As angry and hurt as you are, you also want to fall into his arms for protection. You want him to hold you and assure you everything will be alright.

"He...made me drink his blood," you mutter.

Michael looks horrified, gripping you tighter, "What?!"

Scared, you stutter, "Y-yes! I was forced to! What does that mean?"

He seems incensed, turning away with a growl, "That bastard!"

"What?" You beg, "What does that mean?!"

He turns back to you, "It means...that you are his familiar."

"Familiar?"

"His servant. A pet," he says through gritted teeth, "Not only that...but that you are addicted to his blood. If you don't drink it, you will become sick. Long enough without it, and you die."

Shaking, you reach out and grab his arm for support, "There's a way to break that, isn't there?"

He nods, "In order to be free, the vampire whose blood you drank has to die," he carefully reaches up and touches your cheek, "And he will by my hand, I promise."

You lean into the touch, your lips parting to say weakly, "Because you promised my mother."

He tilts your chin so that you are looking into those beautiful eyes, "Because I care about you."

Your heart flutters and warmth fills your face, "That night...why didn't you stay with me?"

He answers knowingly, "I felt so ashamed at having broken my vow...I knew I couldn't take advantage of you like that. I'm not a good man, anymore at least, but that of that much I was certain."

You nod, understanding. It lessened the blow of rejection slightly.

"I forgive you. For everything."

Surprised, he smiles softly, "That's...very kind of you. I know I don't deserve it."

"You can make it up to me," you say boldly, shocked at your own courage, "Kiss me again."

You're even more shocked when a faint smirk crosses his lips and he grabs your chin, pulling you into a kiss.