The Vampire's Requiem [malexmale]

Chapter Eleven

"I apologize for putting you in a bad spot," He said, but his voice was razor sharp and loathing, his eyes no longer meeting mine, "I didn't mean to disgust you." I was getting frustrated again. I wanted to tell him that it wasn't true. He hadn't disgusted me. How could he possibly disgust me? He was the most beautiful thing I'd seen here on land. His kiss hadn't disgusted me, if anything, it had aroused me so harshly that it had taken every ounce of control I had to not shove him down on the bed and take him.

But I didn't want Newell to be angry with me, nor did I want him to go to bed angry, so I did the only thing that I could think of.

And that was sing.

I felt the heat of my power behind my eyes as I took Newell by the shoulder and pushed him against the bed, watching his expression darken angrily and his fangs bared at me for a moment before I parted my lips and began to sing, slow and gentle at first. My voice rose and fell in a dainty crescendo as I sang in the language of my people. Newell's angry expression instantly relaxed. Normally, he would continue to fight my lullaby and grow angrier, but the alcohol in his system made him a perfect victim.

He slumped back down after one final attempt to get up. I continued to sing, letting my voice carry into a long deep note that made Newell's eyelids flutter. His breathing evened out and every ounce of struggle escaped him in a long, relaxed sigh. He lay nestled against the pillows, hands resting against the pillows on either side of his head as he stared up at me through hooded eyes that fought to stay open, but my lullaby was special.

All of mine were.

Because each one was an incredibly strong, powerful spell passed down through generations of my kind. We had developed our singing from our cousins, the sirens.

They were spells, and ranged in use.

But I would never use these spells to hurt Newell.

I just wanted him to sleep and for once, sleep peacefully. No nightmares, nothing to wake him up in the middle of the night, nothing to make him wake up in the morning and wish he had never woken up. I didn't want to see him wake up to hot sunlight blistering his skin. I didn't want him to wake up, disappointment crossing his face when he realized he was alive for yet another day.

I just wanted him to sleep and wake up feeling refreshed.

And while I hated doing this, I also made it so that he wouldn't remember what had just happened.

He would kill me, and probably himself if he found out what had happened between us just now. I couldn't explain it and while part of me wanted to know why Newell would kiss me like that, I didn't want to risk rubbing salt into Newell's already open wounds. He had enough to deal with, the rest of the world closing in on him. He did not need to have the hassle of personal emotions. I was doing him a favor.

And yes, it was wrong to do this.

Newell should be in control of his own life, his own dreams, his own emotions, but I was helping. I knew I was.

I let my voice fade slowly as I watched Newell slip into a deep sleep. His expression relaxed, no longer angry. He looked incredibly peaceful as he slept, lips parted slightly as he breathed, chest rising and falling. I pulled the blankets up the rest of the way, covering him so he wouldn't be cold. I had remembered the television saying something about a particularly cold day tomorrow and I did not want Newell waking up freezing.

I shut the lights off in the room, went to the balcony and locked it before pulling the curtains shut. I then went to bed, pulling the blankets close as I laid there on my side, facing Newell, who continued to sleep deeply and comfortably. That made me relax enough to finally fall asleep.