Immortals

Second Bite

"Are you going to tell me why you brought him here? Is he going to be your long-term meal?" My manager asks. As the previous ones, I expected him to just stick to the professional side of his job, but this guy tends to ask personal questions and I, being so simple and sincere, always answer him.

"I just did it, and he's not going to become my meal." He shakes his head and smirks as if he knew otherwise. "So, that is what I have for the new singer. Take it. If he doesn't like it, then he should consider doing his own music." He laughs at my snark.

"Not even one singer or group has rejected your songs, why would this one do it? I don't know how you do it, but your music means you're a genius." He takes the USB driver I hand him and puts it in his pocket. He's right. What can these humans know about music? That's why they ask others to do it for them. "Well, I can leave with this. I could tell you to rest but I guess you don't need it. Then, if you plan to do something with the man, let me know in advance."

I know he's referring if I plan to suck all his blood and leave a dry corpse for him to handle. Not a single manager has ever done something like that, but Ned even dares suggest me to drain my guest completely. Such a bold man. He finally leaves and I continue working on another song a group has asked for.

As I get immersed in my job, a familiar smell suddenly fills the air. Metallic with a bang of power and a sprinkle of darkness. My body shudders and acts on instinct, heading to the source of the tantalizing smell, which takes me some meters away from the house, in the courtyard. I open my eyes and find my guest looking at me with emotionless eyes. However, those emerald eyes glow with powerful and untamed Magic.

"Who are you?" He asks. The sudden breeze moves his long, black hair, and with it, the sweet scent of that liquid reaches my nose, this time stronger. I’m sure my eyes change in color, reacting to the appetizing meal in front of me.

"You're bleeding." My voice comes out deep and hoarse as my thirst swells up. He looks confused and starts searching for the source of his wound which I know exactly where it is.

"Ah." He finally looks to one side of his foot and finds the cut. "I guess walking on gravel with no shoes on is not a good idea." He chuckles. I cannot take off my eyes from the wound. It's driving me crazy. Just the day before, when I found him, I ate from him, but he... he awakens this insane thirst as if I was a recently converted vampire. My instincts ask for me to rip off that neck of his and drain every single drop of blood in his body.

I manage to control the drive as the smell dampens considerably. He must have healed the wound with Magic. Yet, the dripped blood is still there, tickling the back of my dry throat.

“Well, I guess it’s time I say goodbye.” Just before he can Dissaparate or walk away, or whatever he was about to do, I grab his arm and pull him against my body. The smell that wraps around me makes me snap out of control. I move back to the house, get to the room which I allowed him to use, throw him to the bed, and then pounce on him.

"Wait, what are you-" I don't hear the end of the question as I sink my fangs in his neck. His hands grab my shirt tightly, trying to push me away. But it's futile; my strength, specially when I'm thirsty, is greater. "Ah," he lets out a low moan while the warm liquid travels down my throat. I feel a weak reaction from the body under me. Not surprising. “Well, this is new.” He rasps. His strength diminishes as time passes by and his hands drop down to the bed, no longer showing resistance; accepting. Before he gets on the verge of dying, I stop.

Not only because I don’t want to kill him, but because of all the emotions that flood inside my head. Why is there only sadness, hopelessness, sorrow, misery, despair and loneliness in his heart? Is that all he feels at all times? Not even a single hint of happiness can be found in him. No, scratch that, there was a thread of happiness for a moment there, right when he realized he was going to die. Is that the reason why he wanted to die back at his apartment?

"You, you..." His weak voice fades when he faints. I clean the wound on his neck with a lick, and it instantly closes. I breath in and out, and then head back to my studio to continue working. But, as the emotions from his blood don't disappear, I decide to leave aside the song I was working on to begin a new one.

…

When I wake up, the colors of the afternoon paint the sky. I have that sluggish feeling as if I haven't slept or eaten in days—which I once tried in my endeavour to die.

How long was I out?

I subconsciously brush my neck, feeling a bit itchy. Then, images come to my mind: of that man and I instantly appearing in the room. It was not Apparition. That man actually ran so fast it felt like we had Apparated. Then, the image of his handsome face coming closer. A pair of red eyes looked at me as if I was his prey. Finally, the acute pain coming from my neck. That man grew a pair of fangs and bit my neck to drink my blood. He... He's a vampire.

I thought Sanguini was the only vampire in this area, but it seems more live around without anyone being the wiser. I have been kidnapped by a vampire. A vampire that lusts after my blood. I recall his reactions to my wound. The need. The urge. The desire. In hindsight, it should have made me more alert. Then, again, it has been a while since I have this feeling of … exhilaration.

After the disastrous relationship with Ginny, I really cared not about others. I paid minimal attention to those who flirted with me, men or women, as I consider my mental state is not the ideal to have a long-lasting relationship.

I simply didn’t want others to suffer from a broken heart if I ever succeed in my goal.

People lust after me, my body, my looks—as messy as they were-, my money, my fame, my name… It is the first time someone lusts after my blood. Though it is normal considering his nature. And I have to accept that his dark skin, blonde hair, silver-red eyes, and that tall and firm body are attractive. Very attractive. I sigh to stop those messy thoughts.

I stand up and slowly walk out of the room. I feel so weak I could lose consciousness at any time. I really don’t know what is worse: waking up from having died, or from almost dying. After dying, it’s like a reboot, as if my body starts up from when it left off. Though, I can clearly feel the effects of reviving, which is uncomfortable at best. Almost dying is… wanting to die, but being unable to take that step. It’s a stressing, full of anxiety and weakness experience.

When I get to the living room, there is nobody there. I expected to find the thin man from before, but there are no signs of him. My trembling legs can no longer stand my weight, so I decide to lay down on the sofa. When I turn, I find a figure looking at me from the bottom of the stairs.

He's wearing a long grey shirt, tight jeans and a hoodie. His blonde hair strikingly contrasts with his dark skin and his reddish lips. He sure looks like someone out of this world. So handsome. But, I cannot forget that he is the one who attacked me. It’s one thing to want to die willingly, but if there is an attack, I cannot say I would enjoy that way of dying even if I want my life to perish.

"You're up." His voice is not as hoarse as before, but still very pleasant to the ear.

He walks towards me... For some reason, my heart begins to beat really fast. Is this the fear of being before a natural predator? I have to accept the thought of facing this kind of foe is thrilling. Are vampires able to use Magic? Or are they just Magical Creatures that work completely different from Magicals? However, he just passes by and heads to the kitchen.

Dumbfounded, I watch him tinkering by the sink. After that, he returns and stands before me. His gaze is very strong in its silvery hue that it reminds me of my godfather. I immediately look away to avoid the memories that threaten to pour. I can enjoy the pain of death, but I will never be able to endure the pain of losing my godfather. His hands hold my shoulder, and I jump from the sudden move, ready to retaliate. All he does is push me to the closest couch to sit me.

"Ned is coming, so wait for him here." He says and then heads to the stairs.

This is confusing. "Ah, excuse me..." I call and he stops, turning to look at me. This is a confusing vampire. I understand if he wants to keep me as a long-term Happy Meal. But, aren’t there terms for that? A code? A contract? Anything? Actually what is confusing is my delaying, as if I wanted to remain in his house. What am I really hoping by trying to approach him? I want to ask a lot of questions, but I don’t know where to begin.

"You can do whatever you want. Leave, stay, just let Ned know."

Leave? But, where am I? Am I still in England? Besides, I don't think I have a place to go back. It’s the same to me where I drop dead: my house, his house, a ditch... To stay, it sounds interesting: to be the guest of a creature that can kill me anytime. This new death prospect was alluring. He keeps looking at me, waiting for me to ask something else. He’s very patient.

"I... What's your name?" I think that can say for itself that I at least won't be going back to my old abode soon.

"Leander." He simply answers, and before I can tell him my name, I hear a car park in front of the house, which takes my attention. From inside the house, I can clearly see when a person gets down the car. I notice it's the same thin man from before. When I look back at the vampire, he's no longer there.

"Oh, you look better than I expected." The man named Ned says as soon as he comes into the house. "He told me you weren't feeling well, so I brought some food that will surely pump you up. Come, let's eat." He says with a big smile. Does he know the man living here is a vampire? If so, then, why does he come? Is he Muggle or Magical?

While eating, I glance at Ned from time to time, but the more I do, the more I realize he looks sicker than I might possibly be in my half-dead state. Wild speculations spring to my mind. Maybe, he comes here to let the vampire—I shouldn't call him like that, what was the point in asking his name then? Maybe this man lets Leander drink his blood. That must be it, there cannot be another reason for him to look like that.

So, Leander notices his current Happy Meal is about to keel it and looks for another one.

In his journey, he finds little dying me.

That’s a lovely story!

Or he comes for pleasure? Couldn’t blame him, to be honest. Must be some wild encounters if this man is left in this state...

"So, what are you going to do... ehm, I think I didn't ask for your name." He asks after taking a bite of the meat he brought.

I feel my brain disconnect for a second. He did not… Well, after years of hiding, people must have forgotten about me. Probably thought me dead. How I wish that. "Harry." I answer in a low voice.

"You’re the sixth Harry I know! Man, that name is so common." He laughs. "Well, no one can have a name as original sounding as Ibrahim Leander von Treyden here in England. He's a composer and song writer better know as Trocar. You must have heard of him.” I nod for the sake of nodding because I have no idea what a Trocar is. “Anyway, Harry, what are you going to do? Are you going to stay with him? I'm sure he doesn't mind, but it's more about you. If you have a place you have to go back to, then just leave. I'm not kicking you out, but I'm just worried."

“Worried?” I ask. I am no stranger to worry. I tend to worry my best friends with my suicide attempts—the few they have witnessed—and I can see that same sincere worry in his eyes.

“Well… Trocar, he… you know…” Ned, then, proceeds to make some weird gestures; like bare his upper teeth and hiss, use his indexes to simulate fangs and strike with them as if he was Nagini or Aragog. If he was trying to impersonate a vampire, he was doing a terrible job. Well, I could give him points for trying to warn me without being obvious.

Either way, it isn’t as if I am in real danger.

"Can you do me a favor?" I ask after he is done with his impersonation.