Forsaking God to kiss someone you hate might not be a smart decision, but damn does it hurt good.
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Judith was never supposed to fall in love- but she was never supposed to become a vampire either. It's her duty as a nu...
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I ignored Greta for nearly two weeks. She acted as if this was the most cruel thing any person had ever done to her, because she was prone to melodrama. However, I found it easy not to pay attention to her sulking. My thoughts were largely elsewhere.
Winter had firmly set in, and I was beginning to feel a deep sense of unease. What if we didn't make it to The Far North before spring began to thaw the snow? What if my only options were death, or drinking Greta's blood? Before I had convinced myself I was okay with death.
Now I was not so sure.
I wanted to live, I couldn't deny that. I had always wanted to live. Should I feel bad about that? I wasn’t sure about that either.
A thought crossed my mind every now and then. What if I let Greta turn me? Then I would not have to worry if we made it to The Far North in time. I could wake every morning knowing I would live.
Sometimes I pictured myself underneath her, blood dripping slowly from her wrist and onto my lips, one drop at a time. I would ask her if it would hurt, and she would reassure me that it would not as she leaned down to place the soft ghost of a kiss on my lips. I would wrap my mouth around her skin, and suck gently on it…
Blasphemy.
It felt like betrayal to the goddess to so much as think such a thing. To sit there and fantasize about betraying her by giving up mortality. It felt like she might strike me down right where I stood.
It felt like I deserved everything bad that had ever happened to me.
At least we were nearly to the ship. I tried to use that knowledge to calm my nerves.
We were just outside of Port Celeste, the place where we were going to meet the next half of our smuggling accomplices. I had never been all the way to the coast before. I had hardly ever been out of the Capital before.
It was beautiful, even despite the freezing weather. In the distance I could see a small fishing village surrounded by ice covered rocks. The slanting rooftops of the modest houses were covered with snow, and black puffs of smoke rose up from the chimneys and drifted back towards us. There was even the faint smell of cooked fish in the air.
It had only taken us two weeks to get here, but I was already sick of the cold. The closer we got to the ocean, the more frigid the air became. I wanted nothing more than a hot bath and a warm bed, but I knew that probably wouldn't come for several more weeks.
It was possible that I would be dead before that time ever came.
I shook my head, as if that could erase the thought of death.
"Why does your face look like that?" Greta said, interrupting my thoughts. She had been trying to initiate conversation with me nearly constantly.
I had thought she might be becoming desperate. It was bad to admit, but I liked having the upper hand on her for once.
