The Secret Within The Blood

The Secret Within The Blood

by Monika Robinson

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2013 Monika Robinson

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Table of Contents

Chapter 1: Pierwszy

Chapter 2: Drugi

Chapter 3: Trzeci

Chapter 4: Czwarty

Chapter 5: Piaty

Chapter 6: Szosty

Chapter 7: Siodmy

Chapter 8: Osmy

Chapter 9: Dziewiaty

Chapter 10: Dziesiaty

Chapter 11: Jedenasty

Chapter 12: Dwunasty

Chapter 13: Trzynasty

Chapter 14: Czternasty

Chapter 15: Pietnasty

Chapter 16: Szesnasty

About the Author

Chapter 1

Pierwszy

I was looking into the darkness, trying to see through the dense fog. A twig snapped in the close distance. The small, almost claustrophobic valley, surrounded by a thick forest, was perfect hiding grounds for someone of my kind. For over a century I had dwelled here, almost undisturbed. In the past few years, however, I sensed more than a dozen humans in the area. Perhaps soon I would be forced to find a new haven. I closed my eyes and breathed in the various scents of the forest and an, undeniably alluring, human aroma. It was time to carefully consider the options. Making way towards the sound could be dangerous, but it would bring quick results. Using my ability to blend into the background saved my skin on numerous occasions and seemed less risky. I knelt down, became motionless and peered once again into the tenebrous thicket. The stately pine trees swayed almost indiscernibly in the cold breeze. After a short while, I heard another twig snap and a rustle of leaves. I could now discern a silhouette of a man, creeping towards me. As he got closer, I felt the relief wash over me. He wore a bright orange vest and a hat in a similarly intense shade. Just another hunter, I thought, looking for other pray than me.

I looked longingly at the man’s sturdy body, emanating heat as he was getting closer to me, and I felt a surge of the ever present hunger. Fortunately for him, I knew better than to feed near the valley. It would attract unwanted attention. Furthermore, unlike the stereotypical vampire, if there is such a thing, I killed only when absolutely necessary. Even though I had not fed in a year, I knew I could control my hunger for a few more weeks, perhaps more, and even then just a few sips of blood would suffice.

The memory of my last kill, was vivid in my mind, even though more than a hundred and thirty years had passed. The man who was to become my meal, guessed what I was and managed to track me back to my dwelling.

It wasn’t the first time that my identity was on the verge of being compromised but no one ever got as close to my primary lair as this man had. I was starving to the point of insanity. The beating heart that was so close to me was an opportunity for a feast. After all, the man tracked me down and crawled into my lair. At that time I thought the whiff of evil emanating from the man was what tipped the scales. Later on, I realized I was just making excuses. I could have avoided bloodshed altogether. I could have used my powers to confuse him in order for him to change his plans. I could have moved and left no trace behind me. But the monster inside me took control, creating sweet visions of blood. A quick decision was made. The screams of agony and the life slipping away, leaving the body limp and awkward, imprinted themselves on my mind, haunting me forever in my sleep. I would never forgive myself for what I had done.

I shook the memory off and focused on the present situation. The hunter stood just a few feet from where I was kneeling, failing to notice me at all. I could almost touch him. The wind picked up, causing the branches to creak and moan. The man would not move, as if frozen. His breathing, slow and cautious betrayed extreme focus. For a brief moment, I thought he would not move again and I would have to end his life after all. He crept forward, not knowing how close he was to his own death. Slowly but surely he pressed on until finally disappearing in the distance.

Chapter 2

Drugi

Stretched out on my bed, I thumbed irritably through one of the numerous dog-eared paperbacks. The words were swimming in front of my eyes. The encounter with the hunter that took place the previous month unnerved me. With the seemingly ever present digital cameras and internet connection available even in the most rural areas, any attempt to feed on humans or even animals was reckless. Soon, the whole world would be under scrutiny, with humans, as well as my kind, followed by invisible eyes. Moving to another hiding spot was an option. I was startled by a human presence one too many a time in these remote woods. It was hard to come to this decision though, as it was almost impossible nowadays to find a safe haven. I did not want to admit to myself that I also simply grew fond of my little home. For years I lived the life of a backpacker, always on the move, sleeping in the wilderness, never staying too long in one spot. My last prolonged hike took me from Georgia, through the Appalachian trail, all the way to Maine. The environment of the latter suited me strongly. Since then I have been more or less stationary, almost… cozy in my little wooden house that I built single handedly.

I sat up, brushing the hair of my face, and strained to think more optimistically. After all, I didn’t need much and rarely ever fed. I looked through my books again, trying to find something that would constitute an enjoyable evening. My hefty bookcase filled most of my cramped space. I always opted for small abodes, unlike many of the others of my kind throughout the centuries. The smaller the house, the smaller the chance of being discovered and hunted by a crowd with pitchforks.

I stopped for a moment and wondered if there were any of my kind left. My maker told me I might never come across another vampire as she only knew a few in her long lifetime. She ended her life a few decades after creating me. I knew that was her wish and I did not try to dissuade her from it. The pain of her loss dulled with time but never went away. The literary world was bursting with vampires nowadays, making me wonder sometimes if there is a grain of truth in their stories. I dismissed the thought immediately. The truth was, there was either no immortal left or the surviving few were forced to go into hiding.

Danuta explained why finding a vampire was extremely hard. First of all, it was only one in a hundred chance that the blood transfusion would work. In other words, the chances of creating a vampire were minute. What was also crucial in the process was the strong will of the person wanting to become immortal. The person undergoing death had to be focused on the transformation, ignoring the pain. He or she had to will themselves to ignore their life slipping away, the visions that accompanied a mortal’s death. Otherwise, the risk of failure was high.

Second of all, in current times having multiple identities was out of the question. It was almost impossible to exist without a social security number and your fingerprints taken. Paying for a new identity was, in my mind, an idea good for books or movies. The thought of how many vampires, in the novels I owned, kept on assuming new names and passing to themselves their own legacies, made me smile. Moreover, in some books, they even pretended to be families and somehow managed to go through schools over and over again. I laughed out loud and shook my head.

Passing the mirror on my renewed search for a good book, I looked briefly into it. A heart shaped face curtained by shoulder length, wavy, darkish red hair, large hazel eyes, narrow arms, small perky breasts. Rather wide hips completed the picture. I was told many times that I was beautiful. When I was still human, a few suitors wrote short poems about me. I turned all of them down but their words tickled my vanity.

I picked a piece of lint off of my shoulder, wondering what would I do if I could never see my reflection. Most of the undead I read about seemed unable to cast any sort of image. On the other hand, I thought, it would be useful if indeed I could not be captured on a camera, as I would not have to fear being recorded. I finally put down the randomly picked book on a shelf near the round, wooden framed mirror and decided I needed to go out. My hunger intensified after long years of fasting. I relished in the thought of the long run to Camden or Rockland. I could not risk feeding closer to what I called home, the North Woods. I pulled my hair into a loose ponytail and pulled on a pair of my favorite black slacks, a simple black blouse and buttoned up a navy blue coat with a wide collar. To prevent my clothes from getting soiled, I wrapped a favorite, tarnished, black coat around me . I walked outside, inhaled the beautiful scent of the woods and started to run..

Chapter 3

Trzeci

The streets of Camden were quiet and beautifully lit up. I was sitting patiently for over an hour now in a nook outside a local pub, my black coat tucked away under a wooden step. During the summer I occasionally fed on tourists, leaving them unharmed if somewhat confused. With the cold November in full stride I realized my options were limited. Hardly anyone exited their cars, drive-thrus beginning to be the most popular type of restaurant. To find a person strolling in the street would be an unusual strike of luck indeed. Most of the people I observed seemed to have an aversion to walking, pulling up to the nearest spots to the restaurants or shops. Some of them so large, they had to move immediately onto the small electric wheelchairs available for the disabled people. I wondered sometimes how many of those people were simply too fat to walk.

There was no use in wondering why people hurt themselves on purpose, I was a vampire, I had to adjust to the new ways of the world. Catching prey was a little bit more tricky nowadays but I did not have to put up with it often.

I put my collar up and sank deeper into the shadows prepared for a long wait. If worse came to worst, I would have to enter the pub and use my charm to lure some desperate man or woman out for a quick word, find a secluded area to replenish my strength. Unfortunately, I would be remembered by the pub dwellers. With another hour passing by I saw no other option. I slowly moved towards the pub’s entrance. I stopped abruptly when the heavy green doors swung out and a burly, dark haired, and apparently drunk, man struggled outside. He was deeply tanned, dressed in dark jeans and a dark grey sweatshirt, with the word ‘Maine’ written across the front. He was missing one tooth and his short hair was unkempt. He looked at me with blurry eyes and grinned widely, putting his arms around me and breathing alcohol into my face.

Such a lovely lady waiting for me! he exclaimed. I felt an urge to turn my head away from the stench but I could not miss the opportunity of an easy meal. I smiled back at him and let him lead me towards his car. He mumbled something under his nose and dropped his keys a few times. I would not be able to die in a car crash, but the process of healing would not be pleasant, so I leaned against him and shoved his car keys under the car with the tip of my shoe.

It’s such a pleasant evening, let’s go down to the pier, I suggested, thinking how lovely it would be to push a mint in his mouth to stifle the foul stench. The man who, I think, was in his early twenties, started laughing loudly.

It’s a bit too cold, my pretty, how about we get in the car? he asked.

I couldn’t risk feeding on him in such close vicinity of the pub. He was barely standing up, slightly drooling on the left side of his leather jacket. I picked the keys up quickly, pressed the door button and opened the back doors of the Subaru. I reached for the blanket I saw through the window.

I will keep you nice and warm, I promise, I smiled again. I could see he was not happy about the prospect of walking anywhere so I asked coldly:

Do you want me to go and find someone else I can have fun with today. This shook him up, he took a few steps towards me, his sweatshirt revealing more than a few stains in the process. I let him put his arm around me and struggled forwards. I supported most of his weight, hoping that he would not notice how strong I was. I looked around carefully as we walked down a small dark street. My victim struggled on the stairs so I practically carried him to the bench in the distance while reassuring him that it was him that was helping me.

Once we sat down in between the docks in almost complete darkness, he struggled to unbutton my coat. He leaned heavily against the armrest, sliding slightly to one side. He must have had either a huge ego or it was the alcohol giving him false confidence, otherwise I could not imagine such a man even trying to approach a woman like me. Honestly, is a shower once a day something a man cannot handle? I looked at him critically and noticed he would soon be unconscious. I considered