Crescent City Sins

Chapter 13: In the Eye of the Storm

The young woman woke up, jumping off the couch as though it might burn her. Still being half asleep, she crashed immediately to the floor. In her waking life she fought to pull herself from the dream and get away from his advances. As far as she could tell, he had no power over her outside of the dream world he had created. She had yet to encounter him in real life though. Marion ran to the bathroom where there was better lighting. Once there she pulled her pants down and inspected her thigh. Sure enough there was two puncture wounds left behind and a bruise was starting to form where he had sucked on the delicate skin. Panic instantly filled her mind.

That's three times now he has fed on me. Will the ritual still even work? Am I just totally screwed at this point?

The girl ran to the kitchen and grabbed a clean glass, filling it up at the sink. Water sloshed down the side of her mouth as she drank. Marion willed her mind to calm down, taking deep breaths in an effort to slow her heart rate back to normal. As she placed the glass in the sink the screen door flew open. Wes and his gran charged in with, their arms loaded with ingredients. Her face flushed as she made eye contact with the young man, somehow she felt like she'd betrayed him. The girl tried desperately to erase the vivid memories of the dream from her mind. One look on the young man's face told her he could tell something was wrong.

My momma always said I'd make a terrible poker player.

"Marion, what happened? Are you okay?"

Wes moved swiftly over to her and took her hands in his, searching her eyes with concern. Marion looked away, guilt shaping her brows.

"I had another dream. Dorian fed on me again."

She gulped and they both gazed over at his Grann, inquiring silently what that might mean. The older woman shrugged indifferently, then asked the girl where the puncture wound was. Marion felt her face grow hot with embarrassment.

"It's.. on my thigh."

The old woman raised a brow but didn't push the issue. Wes looked confused and uncomfortable. Marion was urged to sit in the living room so the older lady could explain to her exactly what they would need to do for the ritual. There there would be a salve applied to the marks on her body and an incantation to be repeated three times, one for each time she had been fed upon. The elderly woman explained that power of each connection would start to be drawn out of her body. She made sure to warn Marion that it would be a slow and painful process. Apparently this ritual had only been performed a couple of times and it was so dangerous that she might not survive it. She could see the worry in Wes's eyes with those last words. The girl worried how this might effect him and that he may care for her too much. Marion knew that if this was her only chance, no matter the risk. She had to take it.

Outside the sky turned a brilliant orange as the sun began to set. The old woman nodded her head, indicating to the girl that it was time to start. Various herbs and oils were placed in a hot bath drawn for the girl. She was instructed to light candles and recite the first part of the incantation before soaking in the bath for seven minutes. She returned to the living room afterwards in only her tank top and underwear. She lay upon the couch as she was told. Wes's grann would cover all three wounds in the salve then return to her neck where the first feeding had taken place. Dripping a hot oily mixture on the girl's neck, she recited the next part of the incantation.

The very minute the last words left the old woman's lips, Marion's body bucked in pain. A searing hot flash ripped through her body. It started at the marks in her neck and spread like cracks in sheet of glass until it reached the very tips of her toes. The girl's vision doubled and fleeting memories of the vampire danced around in her head. The memory of what happened in the dining room ebbed away until it faded into blackness. Marion felt week as the pain subsided. Wes handed her a glass of water. Outside the wind picked up, howling and causing the old wood of the shack house to creek and moan. The old woman looked around as the candles littering the living room flickered wildly.