Sensitive to the Light Immortal Bloodlines I

Sensitive to the Light (Chapter 10)

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Dedicated to XxSoulMate for your wonderful comments and for becoming a fan

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Unum Domus singulis
Per septem Sigilla
Fata omnes
Ad revelatum

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Callan

I stood in the doorway, unmoving for hours.  It was as though I had become a part of the decaying Mansion, slowly turning to stone as the last of the wet Autumn leaves blew past me into the hallway.  It was still raining as if the heavens were at war with the earth below - it had been unrelenting for almost three days now, beginning on the eve of the day I had met Daegan.  It suited my mood perfectly.

The unmistakable roar of an original 1950’s V8 cut through the storm like a rusty chainsaw as the black Fury swept through the trees.  This wasn’t your usual American Hot-Rod, this beast of a car was, and still is the 1958 Plymouth Fury made famous by a certain Horror author.  This was Christine, except now she was painted black instead of red.  It suited her.

As I began to turn to step back inside, I noticed something glinting in the corner of my eye.  I followed the source of the glimmer like a magpie as it brought me to where Daegans truck had scored its vengeful tyre tracks in the gravel as she drove away.

I bent down and carefully scooped up her sunglasses.  They must have fallen as she half carried, half dragged me from the cab.  She had helped me without question, and I gave her nothing but violence and pain in return.  Violence and pain are my specialties, but much like there is honour among thieves, there is honour among Vampires.  She had saved my life and I would be in her debt until fate saw fit to provide me with the opportunity to repay her.

I was soaked to the skin by the time I trudged wearily inside, sidestepping the pools of congealed blood which contrasted strikingly with the black and white marble.  It was really quite a beautiful sight.  I seated myself at the foot of the central staircase and sent my thoughts in search of Daegan.

I had taken too much blood, far too much, but she had made it extremely, bone-crunchingly clear that she wanted nothing to do with me.  At least for now, but I was unable to stop worrying about the state I had allowed her to leave in.  

I found her quickly, that eerily vacant side of her mind made her easy to locate, but unlike our first encounter on Monday, today there was a hint of activity.  A fizzing and sizzling of neurons, like dropping an aspirin into a glass of water.

What can instigate growth in a dead mind and forge new connections out of nothingness?

I stared at her sunglasses in my hand as if they held the answer as the front doors opened.

Gray sauntered through the doorway with his usual cocky swagger, frowning as he shook the rain from  his carefully constructed quiff - he’d never really managed to leave the Fifties behind.  His entire wardrobe consisted of turned-up jeans, leather jackets, tight tee-shirts, motorcycle boots and crepe-soled shoes.  Bette and Julius followed closely behind, both sensibly taking cover from the rain under the shelter of a large golfing umbrella.  

All three of them stopped dead as the smell of the coagulated blood hit them.

"Cor blimey Cal, wot t’blazes ‘appened in ‘ere?"

"Do you want the short story or the long one?" I sighed, twiddling Daegans sunglasses between my fingers, wondering why I had just offered to re-live the entire debacle in full.

"Short." Gray and Julius confirmed in unison.

"Every gory detail." Beamed Bette, collapsing the huge umbrella and moving closer to me with an eager expression on her face.

"Aww, sorry Bette, you’ve been out voted," I grinned in relief.  I mouthed a silent "thank you" at Julius and Gray as Bette shot me a glare that promised I would suffer untold misery until she got the whole story.

"I drove into a deer - a fully grown buck, went through the windscreen of the Austin and got impaled on that piece of glass."

I gestured to the chunk of glass still laying on the marble as Gray raised a speculative brow.

"I told Daegan to get me to Ann-"

"The Human?"

"Gray," Bette scolded, "We talked about this, just hear him out.  Please?"

Reluctantly, he nodded at me to proceed.

"Daegan, the Human as you call her, brought me here and dragged me inside.  She helped Isaac hold me down while Ann fixed me up.  The pair of them locked us in here and buggered off."

Shock was evident on the faces of both Julius and Bette, who looked as though she was about to cry.

"Wotcha do with t’stiff?"

‘She’s not dead Julius’ I rolled my eyes at him as I continued.

"When I came to, she said she knew what I was and that she’d kicked Isaac in the balls.  The bloodlust hit me and I lost it.  She demanded I let her out, punched me, broke my nose and left."

I set the sunglasses down beside me and put my head in my hands.  Why did women have to be so complicated?

Gray laughed,

"So she kicked Isaac, held you down while your insides got re-organized then broke your nose for biting her?"

"Mmmphh," I moaned into my knees. "She hates me."

"Told you," Bette crowed as she elbowed Gray in the ribs.

"Fair play," he acknowledged.

I looked up, "I didn’t tell you the strangest part." I said staring directly at Bette,

"Her blood... I had this... this flashback... I wasn’t drinking from Daegan, I was drinking from Fext."

Bette’s eyes widened in disbelief,

"Coincidence." She shrugged, but her eyes betrayed her casual tone.

"Can you do a reading from these?" I held the glasses towards her as she shook her head apologetically.

"No Cal."

"But we can take ‘em back to ‘er though, can’t we Betty?" Julius smiled encouragingly.

She nodded, "Gray, are you in?"

"I suppose so.  Anyone who busts Isaac’s balls, your nose and is still alive to tell the tale..." He trailed off.

Bette ran to get her cards, leaving a trail of bloody footprints on the stairs as she went.  I traipsed down the hallway, to the left of the staircase, past the the sitting-room where Daegan’s crimson track ended towards the immense kitchens below ground.

In a stately home of such an age as this, the servants were kept hidden from the Lords and Ladies until their appearance was deemed necessary.  Over the many years we had occupied the Manse, we became accustomed to using only the rooms we required to live and those required to maintain appearances, everything else had fallen into disrepair.  

I pushed through a heavy oak door - wider than those of modern standards, to allow immense platters of sweet-meats to be brought up from the bowels of the great kitchens to the gluttonous upper classes.  The marble flooring abruptly changed to roughly hewn stone as I descended a flight of crooked steps to the servants quarters.