Page 79 of Besieger
Victor scratched at his upper arm, over the now-healed bite marks. The memory of another’s mouth and teeth sinking into his skin made the hairs along his forearms and neck stand on end, and he had to remind himself to breathe more slowly. The sensation the memory carried with it was eerie. Victor remembered the sight of the sharp fangs coated in his blood, his own teeth biting into his lower lip, sucking on it. The wolf inside him was howling, eager to be let loose.
Victor wanted the raw beating flesh, pulsing with blood. He wanted to reach out and twist Erik’s face upwards, bare the throat, the soft tanned skin, the veins pulsing with life—stolen, taken, given. His hands clenched into fists and he dug his nails into the soft meat of his palms. Once Victor had rested, had talked to the pack, he would go out and hunt. The wildlife around the hills was too small and the meat stringy but he was eager tosink his jaws and claws into something with a heart, rip it and feast. Only after wolfing down his prey would he be able to stay still and ground himself in the present, in Erik’s presence.
Let’s get you to bed, Tobias,Erik had said, the stolen officer’s uniform he wore was wet. Victor’s memories of the night they had met were a blur of pain and broken fragments. He found himself pushed back to the Berlin of his past, when the war had reached its zenith. He recalled a tall figure trying to help him; the water of a shower cold, always cold, and a hand pressing his face against the cracked tiles of the bathroom wall, under the running showerhead. Blood ran down his legs mixing with the filth of his body.Is this my blood or Erik’s, Victor wondered as a hand prised his mouth open and his teeth bit at the fingers; his throat burned; he choked.
And then Erik had disappeared with the same force he had thrust himself into Victor’s life.
Until he returned.
Here.
Now.
In a hotel in Tarnovo, seventy years later. A hotel Victor could not remember choosing, let alone how he got there, yet knew exactly where it was in relation to the pack and the coffee shop.
“Come to bed, Victor,” Erik invited him, patting at the pillow.
Victor sighed and finally started to undress. The covers were warm and smelled of wildflowers, the scent of the soap on Erik’s body lingered faintly in the air. It was crisp and salty, and made Victor’s mouth water from a hunger that kept resurfacing.
Sleep found and left him too quickly for comfort. He woke up with a start, disoriented by the unfamiliar room and the body beside him. His dreams were long vistas of dunes and sandstorms; he trudged through them drenched in sweat. Victor was not used to waking next to someone. His affairs were brief, and he was meticulous in making sure his partners never spent the night. On one hand, it was that he kept odd hours and would get up in the middle of the night to go to work. On the other, hedid not trust himself to sleep next to a human. He had night terrors aplenty, and moon cycles to worry about.
Erik lay on his side, the blanket kicked away, his long hair spilled across his face and the pillow. A book was crushed under his hand, its pages bent.
It must still be daytime. He sleeps during the day,Victor held back a laugh, ignoring how quick the thought—theknowledge—of Erik’s daily habits had come to him. The two of them had fallen into a routine and Victor found it strangely confronting; the mundanity of the whole affair, as though they had been doing it for years, not a day out of sync, not a day lost.
He was about to reach for the book when something caught his eye. A big tray with covered plates and a pitcher with juice was placed on his bedside table. A coffee pot with two cups patiently waited for him. He was too famished to think about Erik scurrying around the room as Victor slept undisturbed, to arrange for the breakfast tray.
The next time Victor woke up, the sun had set. Erik was sitting by the desk, a book in his lap, his right hand idly spinning a lighter across the top. He was back in his dark green suit and looked ready to go out.
“I have to tell the pack you’re here,” Victor said disgruntled, foregoing any greeting. He had been stalling long enough.
Erik lifted his eyes from the book and cocked his head to one side. A muscle in his cheek twitched, fighting back a smile.
“They will ask why you’re here; what your purpose is. Really.” Victor dreaded the answer. What if there really was a purpose to this visit?
“I am here for you,Mein Freund,” Erik whispered, eyes aglow with wonder. “There is so much you are yet to tell me, of how you spent your time while I was gone. How it is to live as a wolf. And besides, you have some of my blood, I feel I am responsible for you.”
The conversation felt strangely familiar, as if they had had it only moments ago, even argued over it. Victor sipped theleftover coffee desperate to rid his mouth of the sandy taste. There were far more things he wished to forget and erase, than remember.
“I…” Victor started to speak and stopped.
He played with the empty cup, rolling it between his palms like the words he could not bring himself to utter. He was willing to share his blood with a vampire, but Erik had taken far more liberties than simply tapping into Victor’s veins.
“You are reading my mind, aren’t you?” he finally asked and his friend nodded. “And you have been doing something with my memories? Erasing…rearranging them.” When Erik did not speak, Victor sighed and left the cup on the floor. “Why? Do you trust me so little?”
Are you hiding something—or is there something you don’t wantmeto remember?
Erik smiled apologetically but there was a wicked spark in his eyes, as he spoke:
“Mind reading is a habit and a vice. I prefer my affairs handled in a certain manner. I am afraid I have grown accustomed to living only among my peers. I seem to have lost my ability to be patient with human companions. Sometimes I might…give you a push in the right direction. Cut away the mundanity so that you may devote your attention to what matters.”
“Do all vampires do that, scramble and puppeteer their friends?”
You did not answer my question.
Trust...Erik’s voice slithered in and out of Victor’s skull.Yes,I do trust you, Victor. Why wouldn’t I?
“As for other vampires,” Erik said out loud and Victor’s head suddenly felt lighter, “you need not worry about them. I am the only one here, in this territory. The nearest immortal is in Athens, and I do not anticipate us having a reason to visit them.”
