Chapter 7 : What we are...

Raven’s POV

My eyes feel dry and heavy, despite the fact I’ve slept all day. I dare to pry my lids loose and stare at the ceiling of my room. A faint glow of evening sunlight outlines the single window of my basement room. Tiny flecks of dust drift in and out of the light, making it look like the sun is sending sparkling rays in through the shutters.

At least it is sunset. I can go out as long as I stay in the shadows.

I stretch, cramming myself even tighter into the minuscule space that I have called my bed for the past fifty years. Fuck, I need to find a better place to sleep. Then again, I’ve been saying that to myself for the past fifty years and haven’t done anything about it.

I force myself upright and stretch. My petrified muscles, locked in time, ache as they listen to my command. The list of things I have to do today is simple. It’s barely an errand. Still, it is one of the important things on my to-do list. Keeping up production and ensuring quality control is only part of my daily duties, after all.

I stand and glance around the room. One benefit of being me is that I have a room all to myself. I step out into the main room and absorb my surroundings in an instant. Some morons in the family left out their bottles of blood on the counter. No doubt they will be coagulated at this point. What a waste.

I snag them off the counter and test the bottles by swirling their contents. Sure enough, the contents are separating and thick.

Disgusting.

I don’t know when I decided it was okay to pick up after the others. I suppose it’s just because I decided I wasn’t going to be one to live in squalor. I have been in those situations before, and it only encourages vermin and other undesirable things.

I don’t bother looking in the mirror as I pass it. It’s not like I actually care about my appearance. A smile tugs at the corner of my mouth. To think that people used to believe that you could tell who was or was not a vampire by whether they had a reflection in a mirror or not.

I step outside in the shade and watch the last fragment of light vanish over the horizon. I breathe deeply and taste the city air. It is rank, filled with the lingering odor of hundreds of sweating bodies all moving through monotonous lives. How they would react to know what really went on in the shadows.

Then again… is my life any different? Nothing has changed for me in so long. It wasn’t until I met her—Blair—that I felt an injection of curiosity that I haven’t felt for years. This woman saved my life without a second thought and then proceeded to allow me to walk free, trusting me and my word that I would not harm her.

Could I have broken free from those binds? Yes. Could I have overpowered her and drained her of life? Yes. However, she did save my life. Besides, she added a little variety to my life. So, for now, I elect to observe and protect her. It is what is owed, and it’s the only thing that has pleased me in a while.

Now, to the hospital to take care of my errand.

I bend my legs, feel the power surge in my muscles, and leap. In one bound, I clear the entire height of the main house and soar down through the air, catching myself on the nearest roof as silent as a cat. I crouch low and listen. The human family below has no idea I am up here on their roof.

Perfect.

I waste no time sprinting along the tops of the roof. I relish the feel of the wind in my hair, feeling the momentary freedom as I will myself faster and faster until I skid to a halt outside of the hospital.

Here resides our doctor—our lifeblood. He’s the one who keeps the whole operation functional. I glance down at the door and don’t see him.

Fuck.

Is that dickhead going to make me come in and get him?

I sit and wait for another thirty minutes before I realize he probably forgot what day it is. He rarely leaves this place.

As usual, it is left to me.

I make sure no one is around and dodge the cameras that are posted on either side of the building roofs as I leap and land with the utmost silence before crossing the road in haste. It is a simple act of getting inside the building, but I still freeze in my tracks when I see someone who I wasn’t expecting.

Blair.

She is sitting behind the desk in the main lobby. Her hair is a bit untidy and I can feel exhaustion coming off her in waves. What is she doing here? Isn’t she supposed to go home? It should have been safe for her to go home during the day.

In a fraction of a moment, I find myself stunned and locked in place, which proves to be detrimental to my plan of slipping past unnoticed.

Blair looks up and sees me. Our eyes lock. Something in my chest clenches as I see her, but I suppress it. She recognizes me immediately and, for a solid six seconds, neither of us blinks or breathes.

This is the first time we’ve been this close in a room since she saved me.

Seeing the people moving around me, I decide to act. Too many mistakes are made when there is hesitation. It’s an odd sensation for me.

I’m never the one to hesitate.

I approach the main desk where Blair is still locked in place, eyes not leaving me. It looks like she’s seen a ghost, or three.

“Hello,” I say. For whatever reason, my voice comes out lower and tense. Weird.

“Hey there,” she says in the same tone as me. “Um… glad to see you, I guess. How are your injuries?”

“Fine,” I say bluntly, not sure of what else to say. “I thought you would’ve gone home.”

“I was going to, but they asked if I would pull a double and work triage,” says Blair.

I nod in response, letting the timelines synchronize with one another. There is another long, awkward pause. Conversing normally is not one of my strong suits. Knowing I’m on a condensed timetable, I decided to expedite the process.

“I am looking for Arthur. Is he in?”

Blair looks at me curiously. “He’s downstairs. Do… you need me to page him?” she asks.

I shake my head. “Not necessary. I’ll see myself downstairs. Thank you,” I say and, before she can form the question that I see in her eyes, I whisk myself away from the desk to the stairs.

It takes no time for me to descend and stride down the familiar hallway. It reeks here of those odd chemicals that I have no hope of pronouncing. I reach the familiar end door and don’t bother knocking as I enter the room. I’ve done it enough times that I don’t need to announce my presence before entering.

I step into the room and see Arthur standing over two bodies. He looms over the bodies like some kind of mad scientist and, in a way, that is exactly what he is. Tubes and bags hang all over the edges of the slabs the bodies are on.

I glance down at the bags of draining blood, feeling a thirst come over me. I barely take two steps past the door before I hear Arthur address me.

“Raven. Pleasure seeing you again. After the demise of your friend, I didn’t think you would return until you enacted revenge. Unless you have,” says Arthur. He turns and smiles his odd wide-toothed grin at me. He looks absolutely ghoulish the way he turns, fangs extended and blood dribbling down his chin.

Some vampires have no tact or taste for the subtle. Not that I cared. When thirsty, manners are the first thing to go.

“Clean up your chin,” I spit as I snag a rag from one of the nearby tables and chuck it at him. With lightning reflexes that someone wouldn’t expect from an elderly man, Arthur snatches the rag from mid-air.

“Of course. Wouldn’t want to disappoint the image of the Luciano family,” he smiles. “I assume that’s why you’ve come.” Arthur continues to wipe the rag over his chin.

“Why else?” I mutter, moving forward to stare into the face of the woman Arthur was drinking from moments earlier. Her pale features are contrasted greatly by her red hair. “Fresh?”

“Yes. Car accident. An absolute travesty,” sighs Arthur. “Such a waste. At least we can use her before we surrender the shell to her family. Harvesting her blood for the family is the least we can do to salvage the situation.” Arthur steps up to my side and pulls the sheet back over the woman’s face. “So, did you manage to enact revenge for Angelo?”

I feel my eyes change, a burning rage making them crimson as I glare back at Arthur.

“No. We have a hunter in the city, and he knows a few tricks. We should be on our guard,” I reply.

Arthur raises his hands in a surrendering motion, nodding approval. “Well, as long as he doesn’t discover our blood harvesting operation here in the hospital or the Luciano warehouses, we ought to be all right,” says Arthur. “You know? I’m actually surprised that our Don hasn’t sent you to take care of this little vampire hunter problem. It’s why he keeps you a part of the family, right? Or is Marcello Luciano preoccupied with other matters?”

“It is one of my tasks,” I growl. “And you should know your place. Questioning the Don and his affairs will put you on my to-do list.”

“My apologies,” says Arthur. “I did not mean to offend an enforcer, least of all you. Merely trying to understand the mysteries beyond me. I don’t spend as much time in the Luciano home as you.”

“Well,” I say, keeping my eyes crimson and fangs flared, “allow me to clarify these mysteries of the main house. We all have our roles and tasks in the family, and yours is checking on the humans in our warehouses to make sure we have a consistent supply of blood. So, if you like your position, bring the blood bags from your little project here and wrap up quickly. I have tasks to complete tonight and you taking your time is hindering me. Do we have an understanding?”

Arthur and I hold eye contact for several seconds, neither daring to blink or breathe as my words linger in the air like the foul-smelling chemicals Arthur uses. For a moment, part of me wonders whether Arthur will actually dare to challenge me. He is one of the older vampires of our eclectic collection, and he got there for a reason—by being quick and clever.

Finally, Arthur yields, lowering his gaze and nodding. “Indeed, we do. I wouldn’t want to upset one of the enforcers of the Luciano family,” he says. With a bow, he turns back and starts removing various tubes and storing the bags of blood and miscellaneous fluids.

I snag one of the bags and lean against one of the massive freezers as I tear open the package and drink.

Family.

What a name for what we actually are—a gang. A coven of vampires bent on making rules to better suit us all. I drink long and deep while Arthur works.

It’s the same thing every minute of every day. Check the warehouses. Quarrel with rival vampires. Hunt down anyone who suspects us. What a tedious existence.

How long have things been this way? How long would things be this way? I take another drink and, for one reason or another, think about Blair. Did she ever feel this way when it came to her work? As a human, were moments more precious to her?

Perhaps, one day, I would have reason to ask her such things. In the meantime, I have tasks to complete, starting with the warehouse.