Page 51 of Tainted Souls
“I’ll watch you grow old and die,” he says, the realization dawning in his eyes.
I place my hand over his. “Seems like the roles have reversed.”
The afternoon sunlight filters through the opening above, creating a pool of golden luster that stops several feet from our blanket. Max watches it with both fascination and apprehension.
He gestures to the sunbeam. “You’re lucky to be a dhampir.”
This is the first time he’s said that to me, but not the first time I’ve doubted it. Being a dhampir means that I can walk in sunlight without burning, but it still wears me out. That in itselfisn’t the actual struggle, but the fact that I don’t quite belong anywhere, is.
Humans see the vampire in me, while vampires sense the human in me. I’m always treated with suspicion, with caution, like I’m a ticking time bomb.
“I suppose I am,” I say, knowing he won’t understand me anyway. He thinks too unambiguously for that.
Max nods, then looks down at his hands again. “My friends think I should stay away from you.”
The words sting, still, though I’ve been expecting them. “And what do you think?”
“I think…” He pauses, struggling to find the right words. “I think I need time to figure out who I am now, what I want. Everything I knew about myself, about my future, has changed overnight.”
I swallow the lump in my throat. “I understand.”
“You’re the only one who truly does,” he continues. “You’ve lived with this your whole life.”
“Not exactly,” I correct him gently. “I never had to transition.”
“Still, you know this world in a way they don’t.” He looks me in the eyes. “In a way I’m only beginning to.”
I reach for my wine and take a quick sip to steady myself. “What do you need from me, Max?”
He considers the question, looking out at the stars visible through the cave entrance. “Patience,” he finally says. “And maybe… a guide.”
“I can do that,” I offer, relief washing over me.
It’s not a declaration of undying love, but it’s not a goodbye either.
Max’s expression softens. “Thank you for bringing me here. For the first time since I woke up, I feel like I can breathe.”
I smile, leaning back on my hands. “The caves have always been my sanctuary. When the world gets too loud or demanding, I come here to reset.”
“I see why,” he says, his eyes sweeping over the serene space as his nostrils flare. “What’s that smell?”
I follow the scent, then point to where the rock wall meets the floor. A cluster of pink, ghostly mushrooms grows in a perfect circle, their caps luminous even in shadow. “Moongills. They’re edible for humans, disgusting to vampires. Though, they smell delicious to us because they contain compounds similar to plasma.”
Beside the moongills, delicate ferns unfurl in spirals, their fronds a vibrant emerald against the stone. Strange fungi and plants here thrive despite the limited sunlight, having perfectly adapted to this twilight existence between worlds. They remind me, in some ways, of myself.
We sit in comfortable silence for a while, my head rested against his, enjoying each other’s company. Max eventually lies back on the blanket, staring up at the cave ceiling where tiny crystals embedded in the rock catch what little light filters in from outside. I lie down next to him.
“Tell me something, Seraph,” he says, propping his hands behind his head. “Something about being a vampire that no one talks about.”
I consider the question. “The stillness,” I finally say, tracing patterns in the condensation on my wine bottle. “Humans are always in motion, even when they think they’re not. Their hearts beat, their lungs expand, their blood rushes. But vampires can be truly still. It’s like time stops.”
Max experiments with this, holding himself immovably in place.
After a moment, he chuckles. “You’re right. It’s strange. Like I’m a corpse, but alive.”
His eyes dart nervously then, his jaw tightening—early signs of anxiety creeping in.
“Try focusing on one sense at a time. It helps with the overwhelm.”
