Page 69 of Fallen Thorns
Mars tilted their head up to face the greying sky as rain spat upon us. “We wait for it to come back.”
* * *
“What did it sound like?”
A valid question — perhaps the only valid question, given we had nothing else to go off. At all.
We sat in my most frequented café with Marianne before us, (which was difficult to adjust to, as up until that point I had only seen her in inconspicuous hiding locations, and presumed those were the only places she dared attend. Someone of her age and stature seemed too important for mundane locations like this). She was tentatively sipping on her coffee whilst Mars queued for our drinks.
“Deep. Smooth. Like it was whispering into my soul.” That was the best way I could think to describe it.
Marianne nodded and let out a low ‘hmm’ before taking another sip.
“A familiar voice?”
I shook my head. I would have remembered hearing a voice that prominent before, hence my frightful deduction.
“I don’t have any real knowledge on this creature, believe it or not. As I’m sure you’re well aware by now, we ourselves don’t tend to write much down. It would be disastrously foolish, as you can imagine. But I have always been cautiously aware that ifweexist, then there may be a plethora of other beings roaming around undetected too. Just like you will have heard vampire stories growing up, during my lifetime, I’ve had various verbal accounts passed to me involving unnatural goings on that have never been resolved. I believe this might be one of those moments.” Marianne spoke in a hushed tone, despite us being the only people upstairs.
“Young vampires like yourself are extremely impressionable, just like young children. They do not know their own world yet and can easily be led astray.” She shifted her chair, a not-so-subtle nod to my handling of my first few weeks it seemed. “If there is anything else out there, it would not be unusual to hear of them taking advantage of the innocent, but that’s why groups like The Thorns are so important. We keep you safe and on the right path.” Sympathy crawled back into her voice. “And so, I’ve decided I’m going to join you and Mars tonight. I’ll keep my distance, but not be too far. If anything attempts to contact you again, we will know of it.”
“How do you propose you deal with it? Surely you can’t just run up and pounce from behind?” The question felt too humorous for the situation, but it was an honest query.
“We will approach with caution, of course. First, we must decipher what it wants and then we can move forward to looking at… solutions.”
I nodded. I was still partially unsatisfied with the plan, but I couldn’t offer a better solution so kept my mouth shut.
At this point in the conversation, Mars appeared at the old, sunken doorway, carrying a tray of drinks and three cakes. My heart smiled.
“I wasn’t sure which cakes you like best, Arlo, so I’ll let you pick first.” They set the tray down on the table and sat on the cushioned bench beside me.
I slid a plate over with what appeared to be a type of lemon drizzle cake then looked to my company for consent.
“Good choice,” Marianne said, leaning back into her chair and straightening out her blouse.
“I had a feeling he would go for that.” Mars nodded to themself, grabbing the pecan slice while leaving Marianne with a giant wedge of carrot cake.
I struggled to get used to the fact that wecouldstill eat. Blood wasn’t our only source of energy; it fed our infection, but our bodies still needed human energy from time to time.
I definitely always struggled with food, for as long as I could remember, but was never able to pinpoint why. Perhaps it was my need for control, or perhaps because I was always so focused on something else, I never made it a priority.
But over these last few weeks, amidst my…addiction— could I call it that? — I was growing increasingly aware of my rapidly dropping weight. My trousers hung from my hips, my ribs protruded from my chest — even more so than before — and my face was gaunt. I frightened myself when I would look in the mirror. That wasn’t me looking back.
I looked down at the cake before me, then noticed Mars’ gaze tracking my movements so I picked up my fork and picked the cake apart, forcing down a mouthful.
“You don’t have to eat it if you don’t want to,” they said, calmly. After a beat, they added, “have you…”
“He had some this morning,” Marianne answered for me.
“Good.” Mars playfully nudged our shoulders together.
I feigned a smile and took another mouthful before pushing the plate away, guilty at the waste.
“We can work on things, I have promised.”
I glanced up in acceptance of Marianne’s claim.
“We’ll be okay, won’t we, Arlo?” Mars confirmed.
