The Purity of Blood: Volume I (35 page)

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Authors: Jennifer Geoghan

BOOK: The Purity of Blood: Volume I
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I took another
bite, chewing it slowly, savoring the sharp flavor.
 
Setting my bag to the side, I crossed my legs
in front of me and relaxed, inhaling deeply and listening to the gentle breeze
in the trees behind me.
 

Daniel came up
from behind and sat down beside me in the grass.
 
He looked out at the view for a moment then
turned to watch as I took another big bite out of the fruit.
 
A large drip of juice began to roll down my
chin, and reaching up he brushed it away with his sleeve.
 

“So what do you
think?” he finally asked after watching me with a look of utter fascination on
his handsome face.

He had to wait a
moment for a reply as my mouth was still full of apple.
 

“I love it,
Daniel,” I murmured.

I love you, too.

“I thought you
would.”
 

Leaning back to
lie down on my back in the grass, I looked up at the afternoon clouds as they slowly
rolled by overhead.
 
As I took another
bite, I wondered what it would have been like to have been courted by Daniel
back in 1905 here in this valley.
 
Would
I have felt the same way about him as I did now?
 
I imagined a chaperone standing at the side
of the orchard carefully watching us as we sat together here in the tall grass.

Taking the last
bite, I tossed the core into some nearby bushes for the mice to eat.

Beside me,
Daniel leaned back to lie down flat in the grass.
 
He too stared upwards lazily at the fluffy
white clouds against the pale blue sky.
 
Then I felt his hand as it slowly enfolded mine.
 
This was the first perfect moment in my life.
 
Could the time we spend on this earth get any
better than this?
 
I was blissfully
happy, so happy that inside that moment I didn’t realize there was even another
way to be.

I looked over at
him in an attempt to gage how he was feeling, and saw in his expression a
reflection of my own.
 
Turning from the
clouds, he looked over meeting my gaze with his incredible eyes.
 
We stared into each other’s eyes for some
time in comfortable silence.
 
His eyes
were so blue, so beautiful, perfectly shaped.
 
And looking at me of all people.

I could hear the
buzz of insects in the grass, the whisper of the breeze through the trees above
my head, and the sound of my heart steadily beating out its constant rhythm
inside my chest.
 
Here inside my perfect
moment, it felt as if time had somehow slowed down.

“I think I’ve
fallen in love with you, Sara” he finally whispered, taking me completely by
surprise.
 

My heart
suddenly stopped, skipping a beat as I took in his words.
 
But before I could find the words to respond,
his face darkened.
 
“I shouldn’t be.
 
It’s not fair to you,” he added.
 
“I don’t even know how it happened.
 
It shouldn’t have.”

He sat up and
looked down at me.
 
I was still lying on
my back in the grass, too in shock to move.
 

“But when I’m
with you, I’m selfish and don’t care what the consequences might be.”

I sat up next to
him.

“Consequences?”

With a look of
desperation in his eyes, he grabbed my hand and held it up to his chest.
 

“Promise me,
Sara!
 
Promise me that no matter what
happens you’ll believe I love you, that you won’t lose faith in that.”
 

He was begging
me; I could see it in his eyes.
 
But why?

I didn’t know
what he was talking about, but his eyes pleaded with me so urgently that I
nodded my head in agreement.
 
How could I
not?

He smiled and
reached up to smooth my hair.
 

“Why do you love
me?” I asked innocently.

Looking at me
his face softened again.

“Because I was
born to love you, Sara.
 
I don’t have a
choice, and even if I did, I’d have loved you anyway.”

I felt weak all
over, as if every cell in my body was about to fall apart.
 
With a sigh, I looked deep into his blue eyes
and whispered “I love you too.”

His eyes closed
as he absorbed my words, then he leaned towards me and gently caressed the side
of my face with the back of his hand.
 
I
needed to feel his touch and leaned into it with my eyes closed for a moment.
 
Savoring his touch, the familiar tingling sensation
began to bubble up inside, causing my heart to race faster inside my
chest.
 
As I felt him move closer, my
breathing became shallow, speeding to catch up with my runaway heart.
 
He wanted to kiss me, it was in his
eyes.
 
He must know I wanted it too.
 
Slowly, he moved until he was only inches
from me, then I watched as he paused as if reconsidering.
 
I could feel his breath on my face, smell its
sweet scent and I inhaled deeply, drinking it in while I still could.
 
Maybe this was as close as we’d ever get.

Why was he
breathing?
 
He didn’t need to breathe,
did he?
 
I’d noticed most times he
didn’t, at least when we were alone.
 
What did it mean that he was now?

I didn’t
move.
 
I knew this was up to him.
 
If he felt he was strong enough he would, and
sitting there among the tall grasses with him, I fervently prayed with all my
might that he was.

Then I felt his
lips meet mine, soft and strong just as I’d imagined they’d be a hundred times
before.
 
I leaned into them, returning
his kiss, as weeks’ worth of frustration began to pour out of me, making the
kiss stronger and deeper with each passing moment.
 
I could feel his hand as it slowly trailed
down my back pulling me closer to him.
 
This was it, my first real kiss.

With his hand at
my back, he gently laid me down in the tall grass as his lips began to travel
down my neck soft as butterfly wings.
 

“Oh, Sara,” he
whispered, his voice full of emotion.
 

My vocabulary
suddenly missing, I heard myself moan in response.

A moment later
he suddenly shot upright and put his head between his knees.
 
He was breathing rapidly as if searching for
oxygen to fill the hollow of his lungs.
 
When he finally regained his composure, he glanced over at me.
 
Still in shock, I looked into his eyes
searching for an answer, but what stunned me into continued silence was his
eyes.
 
They were dark, not black, but a
deep navy blue with traces of black circles under them, like a person who
hadn’t slept for days.
 

“I – I’m sorry,”
I whispered.
 

I must have done
something wrong.


You
have nothing to be sorry for!” he
said emphatically.
 
Then his face
fell.
 
“This is
all
my
fault. I should
have known better.”
 

I turned my
head, unable to look at the shame on his face.
 

“I think it
would be best if we went back to the house,” he finally mumbled.

When he stood
up, he didn’t gallantly offer me his hand like he usually did.
 
I guess so soon after his moment of weakness,
he didn’t want to touch me again.
 
Picking up my bag of apples, I got to my feet and followed him back down
the path to the house in silence.
 
I
wanted to say something to make him feel better, to somehow ease his pain, but
I couldn’t find the words.
 
A couple of
times as I traipsed behind him, he peered over his shoulder allowing me to see
the guilt in his eyes.
 
I ached inside to
comfort him, but I didn’t think the words had been invented yet that would
erase that expression from his face.
 
And
yet, I could still feel his lips on mine, his soft tongue, his tender touch.
 
The memory of our moment of passion was now
indelibly etched in my mind for the remainder of eternity.

Would it ever happen again?
 

Would he allow it?

 

When we got inside the house, he
immediately walked through the living room out onto the balcony.
  
Once there he leaned against the railing and
stared out at the lake in stony silence.
 
I lingered in the living room and watched the muscles of his broad shoulders
as they rippled under his shirt, and his hair as the breeze gently blew it
around the top of his head.
 
Something
told me he’d often gone there as a place to think things through or just be
alone.
 
I didn’t have to be a vampire to
tell he felt guilty for allowing his guard to slip.
 
With all my heart I wanted to console him,
but it was hard when I was glad it had.
 
I knew if I was honest and told him so, he’d only be angry with me.
 

I gave him a
moment then joined him at the rail.
 
He
made no acknowledgment of my approach.
 
He seemed so deep in thought for a minute that I wasn’t even sure he
noticed I was there.

“For what it’s
worth,” I finally said “That was one heck of a kiss.”
 

I was pretty
sure he wanted to smile but wouldn’t allow himself too.
 

“I’ll be honest
and also tell you that … that was my
first
kiss as well.”

Startled, he
turned to face me.

“I almost made
it your last.”
 

There wasn’t a
trace of a smile on his lips.

“Well, at least
I’d have died happy.”

“Don’t joke
about it, Sara.
 
I’m serious.”

“So am I,” I
replied just as seriously.

We both turned to
stare out at the water.

“How bad was
it?”
 
I asked quietly.

“I was half way
there … but something stopped me.
 
I’m
not sure what.”
 
He paused.
 
“I wish I hadn’t done it.”
 
He sounded sad.

“Why?”

“Because now I
know.
 
Now I know how much … you’re a
part of me.”

“Maybe that’s
what stopped you.”

“What do you
mean?” he asked, shifting his gaze from the water to me.
 
For the first time in a while I saw some
small glimmer of hope in his eyes.

“I mean, maybe
you realized that if you killed me, it would be like killing a part of
yourself.”

He didn’t say
anything, but I could tell he was thinking about what I’d said.

“Maybe the
longer we’re together, the stronger that part will grow,” I added, praying that
it would be true; that he would give it enough time to find out.
 

As he stared
straight ahead, he still looked anguished.
 
I felt an overwhelming urge to lean up against him, to reach out and
take his hand, but I feared it might make things even worse for him.

“So I’m guessing
this sort of thing doesn’t happen when you kiss a female vampire.”

“No, not that
I’ve seen,” he replied.
 

I tried not to
wonder how many female vampires he’d kissed over the past hundred and four
years, but it was hard to chase the images from my mind.
 
In an instant, I could feel my mood shift
from sadness to an intense jealousy of these shadowy figures from his
past.
 
He must have sensed it because his
head turned toward me with a hint of a smile.

“I’m sorry.
 
I’m ruining our day together.
 
I’m better now so what would you like to
do?
 
I’ll bet you’re getting hungry.
 
It’s after lunch time.”

I said I was,
but really only because I thought it was what he wanted to hear.
 
After he microwaved me something to eat, we
sat at the kitchen table for a while.
 
He
talked while I ate.
 
After I finished, he
put the dishes in the sink and began to clean up.
 
I offered to help but all he did was smile
down at me and shake his head.
 
Realizing
I’d been dismissed, I pulled an apple from my bag and walked into the living
room.
  
A large fireplace made of
enormous smooth boulders dominated the room.
 
The pile of firewood stacked neatly on the floor and the fresh soot in
the hearth told me that it was used often.
 

As I walked
around the room, I noticed that although there were lots of paintings on the
walls, there were no photographs.
 
It
almost had the appearance of a model home more than a place where actual people
lived.
 

Daniel came in
from the kitchen, took a seat on the sofa and watched as I walked around
looking at the little items that were scattered about.
 
I picked up a vintage candlestick on a side
table and admired it.
 
It was made of
brass and intricately crafted.

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