Chapter 21. When it Rains by Paramore
Evan sat silently on the couch, still holding Emil's hand. All she could do was stare at him as he sat next to her, head down. The hand she held was at the end of his extended arm, as he was sitting as far from her as he could while still holding her hand. She wanted to give him time to decide what to tell her.
She stared at him for a moment longer and then said, "How do you go out in the sun?"
Emil surprised her when he burst out laughing, breaking his morose mood, "Sunlight doesn't hurt me. It's more that we would not be able to hide what we are if a human saw us in direct sunlight, we don't really get rosy cheeks and tans. It is a story we tell the Newborns to keep them away from humans. I'll show you sometime."
"Newborns," Evan said, now with trepidation in her voice.
"We call newly transformed vampires Newborns, for lack of a better word. Their hungers and behaviors are so like that of a demanding child, we must raise them as if they were children. At least a responsible maker does that." As Emil finished his explanation, his eyes clouded over, looking haunted.
"Oh," Evan replied, not quite sure what to think about Newborns. "What about being invisible? I mean, I can see your reflection in the mirror over the fireplace."
"Well, that is a human story. We tend to move so fast, that we are able to sneak up on our victims without them ever being the wiser. I suppose it might look like we are invisible to some. And yes, we are matter, and we do show up on photos after going through the change," Emil answered, slightly bemused by how easily Evan moved on to the next question. She seemed to take things remarkably in stride, in comparison to how she handled herself with Matt Thomas.
Evan smiled. "What else is fake? Is it all fake, are there any stories that are true?"
"Holy water doesn't burn us. The only way to kill us is to dismember and burn us, or other more gruesome methods. Crucifixes don't stop us. That comes from the Middle Ages when the church hunted us. Many of our kind would shy away from the symbol of the cross, for fear of being found out, but it doesn't do anything to us. The wooden stake is nonsense. It couldn't penetrate my skin. It would splinter," he said in a rush. Emil seemed to want to get everything out in the open as quickly as possible.
Evan was surprised with the bluntness of his answers. She looked appalled for a moment. "Dismember? If the wooden stake won't hurt you, how would someone dismember you then?"
"It takes one of us, or another supernatural creature to do so," Emil said pointedly, though he looked as if he was leaving something out.
"There are other...creatures?" Evan asked with a tremble in her voice. That hint of fear seemed to please Emil as a grin crossed his face.
"Finally, something I've said gets to you. Yes. There is truth behind most of the scary campfire stories, and horror movie monsters. Hollywood tends to exaggerate on a few things, but underestimates most of the truth. Werewolves exist. Zombies exist, although that is mostly a Voodoo witch medicine state. The zombies will die eventually. It just happens while they are still semi-conscious."
Finally, she looked overwhelmed. Emil paused, allowing his words to sink in.
"Don't you have any more questions? There is at least one I can think of that I would probably want to know if I had a blood drinker sitting inches from me," Emil looked directly into Evan's eyes, challenging her to come up with the obvious question on her own.
Evan's eyes widened, but she did not pull away. She lifted her chin, attempting bravery. The she abruptly asked, "Are you going to drink my blood?"
A tremble worked through the words she said. She watched as Emil slowly swallowed then licked his lips.
"Evan, there is nothing I would enjoy more. Your blood calls to me like none I have ever encountered."
For the first time, she actually looked terrified. She had let go of Emil's hand awhile ago, but now pulled away to the far side of the couch. When she did not speak, he quickly continued, "But...I promise to never do such a thing to you."
He didn't want to push Evan away, but Emil wanted her to know what she was dealing with allowing him in her home.
She relaxed only slightly. Her hands were clasped tightly under her chin, her legs drawn up close to her body. She asked boldly, "Why are you here then?"
"Don't you remember? You offered to listen if I needed anything. You saw that I was miserable. I was too curious to stay away from you. Then I realized that I wanted to be near you. Not as a victim of my thirst, but as a salve to my wounded spirit.
"You are the first person who has ever evoked any kind of sensation from my lifeless flesh. That is no little thing. I need to know more about you. You are not just a normal human, and you know that. There is something special about you, and I am determined to find out what it is."
It seemed Emil had finally found his voice, but he noticed how Evan was slumped back into the corner of the sofa. He glanced at the mantle clock, surprised to see that it was nearly one o'clock in the morning.
"How inconsiderate of me, you must be exhausted," Emil said.
Her eyes were sunken into her face, the weight of all he had told her pushing them deeper. "I don't think I could sleep."
"Why not? It would not take more than a moment once you lay your head down."
"I want to know more, more about you. I am not finished asking questions. If you leave, I would have to wait until you came back and I'm not sure you will come back," her words spilled out abruptly.
Evan was having a very hard time understanding everything that Emil had disclosed to her. She was so tired. She must be dreaming already. Surely this beautiful man sitting inches from her was a man. Not what he said. Not what she accused. Not a vampire.
She moved like she was in a trance. He has a pulse, surely he has a pulse. She moved to crouch on the floor in front of Emil, registering the alarm in his eyes as he pressed back into the couch away from her. He quickly composed himself, and sat completely still watching her intently. She moved slowly, deliberately, so as not to put him on edge, keeping eye contact as long as she could. She laid her right ear against his chiseled chest, feeling his cool firmness through the thin sweater he was wearing. There was no sound under her ear. She kept her ear there, waiting to a count of sixty. You couldn't declare someone dead until you listened to their heart for long enough. She didn't move. How could she have missed the absence of a heartbeat the few times she had been in his arms? After awhile, she closed her eyes, believing she was dreaming. No sound but the inflow and outflow of air in his chest met her ear when he finally took a small breath.
Evan didn't move when a cold hand touched her hair. Her heartbeat betrayed her feelings, continuing to accelerate as his hand softly smoothed the hair off her face. He did not act like he was going to hurt her. She turned her eyes upward as he looked down at her. His eyes were tender, full of a longing she had never seen directed at her in her life.
When he spoke, she desperately wanted to believe him. "I will stay, and I will not hurt you. You need to rest. I have many things I want to tell you. I am happier about having someone to talk to than I ever thought possible."
She heard the earnestness in his voice. She did not believe she had anything to fear from him. She closed her eyes, leaning into the arms that had come up around her. The events of the day and the fatigue washed over her, and she barely registered when she was physically lifted from the floor.
When Evan awoke, she refused to open her eyes. She was thinking of the dream she had been having of Emil, where he had told her he was a vampire. It seemed ridiculous, a product of her exhaustion. She slowly started to move her arms and legs to stretch. It felt as if she had not moved since she closed her eyes. Her hand pushed off of something hard, cold and unyielding, not the soft mattress or pillow she expected. She slowly moved her hand across the hard surface. Her hand traced what felt like a shoulder and then the planes of a chest. Memories of her late night conversation flooded back to her consciousness, and her eyes flew open. She was looking into the eyes of her dream. The only light in her room came from the open door of the bathroom, a narrow streak that spilled onto her bed. But in that relative darkness, Emil's eyes burned with a strange fire, deep from within. Could it be true?
"Did you sleep well?" was all Emil said, his velvet voice caressing her, but tears poured down her face, against her will. Her reaction triggered a worried look on Emil's face. When she tried to sit up next to him, he quickly moved from his position next to her on the bed, in a leap half way across the room.