The Greatest Obsession

Chapter Twenty-Three: Sins of the Flesh

Only four days had passed since Elijah had sent Haydn off to his own devices. With much fear inside of him, he felt the signs of the craving earlier than he had even the last time and worried that Haydn would not respond to the call the craving sent him.

It began Wednesday with the abnormal chills that Elijah could easily pass as nothing. Dehydration took over and Thursday he found himself indoors and sleeping in the parlor with pitcher after pitcher of water guzzled into his gullet. And into Friday, Elijah began to worry when he woke with a sore throat. The sides of his neck felt tender. He cursed the day as he knew the craving would only halt for so long.

Elijah kept up his appearance throughout the day as not to make Abraham and Irina worry. The patriarch had been more observant but kinder since the incident that Monday. All he knew was Elijah was under the weather. There was not a clue that would hint at the illness being Haydn's doing.

Thankfully, that night's dinner did not upset Elijah's condition and he enjoyed his meal with only the tenderness in his throat and very light sweating. It was very warm in the house, though, so no one was spared from that.

The young man retired early. No one questioned him. It was as sunset faded into nightfall that the craving intensified. Elijah was quick to change into his nightgown, not before unlocking his window should Haydn come.

After letting the fabric slide over his person, Elijah crawled into his bed and closed his eyes. The blankets were not needed and to lessen his headache, he turned off the lamp, blowing out the flame. The warm light was gone. Only blackness evaded until his eyes adjusted to the slight blue of the hour.

Sweat beads trickled from Elijah's hairline and over his cheeks. He moaned, frozen in place, his arms wrapped around his body as a long shudder passed through him.

There was a knock on the door, and the intruder allowed themselves in. It was Irina, still in her layered blue dress, thin but formless with small puffs for sleeves. She'd let her hair down that day and added a bit of rouge to her cheeks. She let her eyes wander over the darkened room and the sickly man in his bed. Elijah glowed with an aura of soft blue. The cotton nightgown that clung to his soaked skin was illuminated by the moonlight that spotlighted his bed.

"Oh, darling, why is your light out?"

Irina lit one of the matches beside the lamp and set the wick that poked out of the brass lid aflame. She recapped the glass cover and adjusted the knob on the side, allowing Elijah's momentary blackness to cease. Irina watched a trembling hand block the light from his eyes, as he pulled his legs even closer to his chest.

"I've got a headache from this unfathomable sickness. The aches and pains are too much for such brightness. Please, dim the lamp, please, Irina."

The girl adjusted the brightness while bearing a small frown and lowered eyes. She could still see Elijah's aura, but it had dimmed considerably. There was a sense of unease coming from him.

When Elijah finally turned to face her, he blinked rapidly, trying to withhold the pain coursing through his body. He saw how intently she was staring at him. This worried him. How obvious is it that what I am suffering is no ordinary illness?

"Please, don't hide it. I know you feel worse than you are letting on." Irina stepped closer, putting a warm hand on Elijah's forehead. "Is this the same illness from before?"

The boy shut his eyes and removed his fiancee's hand from his skin, holding her hand against the pillow. "It is the very same illness."

"Might I sit on the bed with you?"

Elijah had not the will to deny her. "Sit. Try not to be too close. I can't bear it."

Irina sighed. She smoothed her dress and sat with her back against the headboard. Her other hand picked at her dress. "Will he be here, tonight?" Irina's nostrils flared and her eyes hardened at the thought of the vampire.