The Blood That Bonds by Christopher Buecheler

fiend
whose lust for power and dark knowledge know no bounds. I have seen
him murder dozens in a single night, solely to try, and fail, to
read the future in their steaming entrails.”
    Two shuddered. Theroen looked at her, nodded
grimly.
    “ I am no knight in shining
armor, Two. I have killed, many times, without repentance, and I
would have you do the same. You must understand this. But I am not
evil in the manner that Abraham is evil: active, conscious,
focused. I am evil like a hurricane. A force of nature, nothing
more.
    “ There’s no evil in
that.”
    “ Isn’t there? But it
doesn’t matter. I am the creature I have been for nearly half a
millennium. Any moral dilemma that might once have existed has long
since been washed from me. But I still hold the rest. I still hold
love for human life, and I take it only when necessary. I loathe
Abraham for his inability to feel these things.”
    “ Why haven’t you left
already?”
    “ It’s the blood that bonds.
It keeps me here. But the link grows weak as my powers increase.
They are already well beyond what they should be for my age. This,
too, is a source of frustration for Abraham. Most Eresh fledglings are not
ready to leave their masters until well past their fifth
century.”
    His eyes flashed suddenly, a look of disgust
crossing his features.
    “ Yet it is his own fault !” Theroen
snarled. “He waited too long to make his children. He knew that age
makes the blood unpredictable. He knew that if I was not driven mad
by it, I would wield power unlike any ordinary
fledgling.”
    “ But he keeps you here
anyway …”
    “ Out of spite, yes, and
malice. Abraham hates me, perhaps more than I hate him, but he
would not be rid of me. I am his , do you understand? Or so he
feels.”
    Two took his hand, kissed the
fingertips.
    “ This is the world within
the world, Two.” Theroen’s voice was gentle now. He looked again
into her eyes. “This is a secret life unknown to those who walk
during the daylight. Humans have their legends and rumors, movies,
television, comic books … but they do not believe.”
    Two was kissing his face now. Chin, cheek,
lips. Theroen kissed back absently, his mind still on their
discussion. Two moved her lips to his neck, felt the pulse of his
blood buried beneath the flesh, and was overwhelmed with sudden
desire. She pressed her new, sharp teeth against the flesh, waited
for his acknowledgement. Apprehension. Would he deny her this gift?
Would her yearning go unfulfilled?
    She heard the smile in his voice.
Satisfaction. He understood now; she wanted what he offered.
    “ It is yours for the
taking, Two. It always has been.”
    Two, unfamiliar with the mechanics of her
own body now, pressed too hard, tore instead of pierced. The blood
flowed out around her lips, dripped down her chin. Theroen, his
unearthly calm never leaving him, lifted his hand to her head,
pressed her against him. Two wrapped her arms about him, fastened
herself securely to his neck. Drank. Swallowed.
    Warmth unlike anything she had ever known.
Dizziness, desire. The blood coursed over her tongue, down her
throat, hot and wet and alive. Two moaned, her arms tightening, and
here it seemed was everything she had ever wanted. Thoughts of
heroin were cleared from her mind. This was freedom. This was love.
The full, rich liquid of life which Theroen now gave her freely was
beyond anything in the scope of her experience.
    She dropped backwards, satiated in only
moments. She lay on the bed, Theroen next to her, gasping, reeling.
Weeping again? It seemed she had wept more in the past two days
than ever before in her life. Joy, pain, fear, desire.
    “ I understand,” Theroen
whispered into her ear. “Ah, Two. There will be so much for us
after. Soon, my love. Soon.”
    Soon , Two thought. Soon and then
forever . She held on to Theroen, lost in
the blood, lost in the ecstasy of it all. Small kisses now, lover’s
kisses, and the joy she felt was too real to be wrong,