Victare had not felt such a level of rage in his life. He mourned for the life he had to turn. Yes, he gave her immortality, but to do so he had to also kill her and that was an emotional toll that made him furious. He laid blame on the young girl that had attacked Janare, however, it was he who had taken the final breath away from her.
She would not wake for several hours while her body healed and Victare was nervous that she would be angry. Many people, when given the choice, would choose death and at that moment, he tried to imagine what Janare would have chosen if she were allowed. He believed she would have chosen to live forever with them, but he did not give her that choice. He couldn't, he could only let her die. The thought of permanence was overwhelming to those who didn't understand it, and vampires always downplayed the fact that they too could die.
He stomped around the living room. Normally it was his lover who was displaying over-exuberant showmanship, but tonight Victare was the star. He cursed this new clan, The Nameless he called them, swearing with every moment of energy that he would destroy their lineage. Nothing was off limits. He peppered his most vulgar threat with a swipe of his arm, grabbed an antique oil lamp, and threw it against the marble fireplace. Glass shattered around the room.
His rage swelled as he inspected her throat, still purple with deep cuts from the strands of jewels. He felt his mind pressing outward, but he could feel Patreous' consciousness pushing back on him.
Not now.
Patreous said this to him telepathically, which Victare had not known he was able to do. His husband's power amazed him but also made him feel ashamed. What had he failed to do to grow these types of powers for himself? This made him more enraged. He pressed his mind out further, wanting to find out anything he could about The Nameless. He knew if he could reach them, he would be able to find out who they were.
His husband was stronger than him and pushed back on his mind to keep him from going further than a few feet from himself. He felt trapped in his own head, by his own partner. He did not understand at the time that Patreous was doing this to protect him. A powerful telepath could attack him back through his mind and change thoughts, memories, and emotions.
Victare howled and cried out in agony. He was feeling the pain of taking Janare's mortality. He pressed harder and harder against Patreous' power which only caused the core of his will to strengthen. He was becoming stronger inside; Patreous was molding him. He pushed again but this time it felt different. He was pushing inward and could feel his essence changing, instinctively knowing that he should focus his will on the shape of a dark grey wolf with a pointed muzzle and long sharp teeth. He realized very sharp teeth would be necessary and could feel his own teeth stretching and lowering into the form of a wolf.
The form of a large, muscular wolf stood where Victare's human form once did. The challenge taught him how to focus and aim his thoughts. He stepped over to where Janare was resting and sniffed at her body. She no longer smelled of fresh blood, her body drained of natural life. Her bruising had already improved as the vampiric nature of her body was starting to take over and heal itself.
Victare stood watch in the form of a wolf, guarding her body until she woke later that day. Patreous did not interfere as he understood this was natural.
Janare slowly gained consciousness, the swelling and bruising around her neck had completely healed. She remembered most of what happened the night before. She knew that the young girl had held her up by her neck until she passed out, and more importantly she knew that she was not alive any longer. There is a self-awareness that a vampire has over their body, and it does not need to be taught. The girl must have killed her, she thought; she strangled her to death. But why was she awake? This must be the afterlife, like in the books she had read, where you haunt the place where you died for the rest of eternity.
She felt a warm, wet nose pressing against her cheek. She focused and saw a large wolf but was not afraid, she knew this person. "Patreous?" she asked.
No, it's me. He said this directly to her mind.
She recognized that it was Victare, and her eyes widened. She knew he always felt self-conscious about his lack of powers, but something had clearly changed.
She wasn't panicking yet, so Victare wondered if she knew. There was a pink glow around him, and he quickly morphed from his wolf form into his more friendly human form. Not being used to it, he forgot that he would be fully naked. He ran across the room to where his clothes were and quickly dressed.
"I'm dead, aren't I?" She asked him calmly.
"Yes," he said apologetically.
"Am I... a vampire?" The confusion in her eyes started to go away. She already knew the answer.
"Yes, I'm sorry."
"It was that girl, wasn't it? The one who came in and attacked me."
"Not exactly."
"What do you mean?" she asked.
"Well, she attacked you and hurt you so bad that you were about to die. I couldn't let that happen so I...," he cried. "I'm so sorry!" he wailed as he laid across her giving her a hug, his wet cheek against hers. "Right as you were about to pass, I turned you," he continued.
She paused, considering her response. Her life had suddenly become more interesting for sure. There were so many things she had not done in life and now she could. In fact, she would learn and see things she never knew were possible. This was a gift.
"Thank you."
YOU ARE READING
Vic & Pat's
VampireA timeless gay vampire couple who have been together for hundreds of years find themselves and their small overnight diner at the center of a nationwide social-media frenzy. This would normally be great for business, except they are also at the cent...
