Gwen’s POV
The last thing I expect when Alexander brings me to take a shower is to be led into a bedroom that looks like it belongs in a modern luxurious mansion instead of an ancient castle.
It’s nothing like the room I woke up in.
A king bed sits in the middle of the room against the far wall, heavy drapery frames the windows, and an expensive Persian rug lies on the floor. The wall is adorned with oriental paintings. Next to the bed on one side is a vanity, and near the window, two armchairs and a table.
Alexander stands in the doorway while I survey the room, which is on the third floor of the castle.
“Do you like it?”
I walk towards the window and peer outside. From here, I can see the beautiful compound outside. I can only imagine how beautiful the sunrise must look from here.
“I love it.”
He smiles. “I’m happy you do. I’ll leave you to it, then. I’ll be in the library.”
An hour later, I head back to the library. I walk into the room but don’t see him. I’m about to turn back and explore other areas of the ground floor when I see his shoes sticking out from behind a couch.
“Alexander?” I call tentatively as I walk towards the couch. There’s no response. Why is he sitting on the floor?
When I get to the other side of the couch, I understand why. He is not sitting. He is lying on the floor.
Without thinking twice, I drop to my knees next to him and shake his shoulder. “Alexander?”
His eyes shift beneath his eyelids but they remain closed. Swallowing, I touch his face, which is even paler than before. He was cold before, but now, he is freezing.
What do I do? It’s not like I learned first aid for vampires in school!
I resort back to calling his name and shaking him. Relief floods through me when his eyes flicker open about a minute later.
“Gwen,” he calls my name, his voice weak. “What happened?”
“You passed out,” I tell him.
He braces his hands on the floor and pulls his upper body up. I lean back, giving him space. He remains sitting on the floor and rests against the back of the couch. He is so still and still very pale. If he wasn’t talking, I would think he was dead.
…
But he is, isn’t he?
Just undead.
I didn’t know vampires could pass out.
“Are you sick?” I ask. Can vampires get sick?
His eyes, now duller, find mine. “I’m dying.”
I swallow hard. “I thought vampires are immortal.”
He smiles, a sad smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “There’s no such thing as immortality. Even gods fade away if forgotten.”
“What can I do? Do you have medicine?”
His eyes fall shut. “I need to drink.”
My eyes find the carton of water he placed on the table earlier. “Got it.”
“Not water,” he says just as I rise to my feet. “Blood.”
I pause. Of course. “Where…have you got some in the house?”
“No. It’s okay. I can wait. Phillip will bring me some after sundown.”
“Phillip?”
“My butler.” His eyes open again. “Don’t worry, he won’t stay.”
I shake my head. “I’m not afraid of him. He can stay. You shouldn’t be alone if you are like this.”
“I’m not alone.”
I look through the window, where the sun is still shining. “It’s still a while before dark. Sure there’s nothing I can get you before then?”
“Just stay with me,” he says. “I’m sorry I can’t show you around.”
“You’ll show me around tomorrow,” I tell him. “Can you get up? Move to the couch, you’ll be more comfortable.”
“Sounds like a good idea,” he says. But he doesn’t move.
Hesitantly, I ask, “Need help?”
“Please,” he says, extending his arm.
I get to my feet and hold his arm. He leans on the couch and then on me as he gets up. It’s so odd seeing him like this. He looks so powerful, so untouchable. What’s made him so weak? Is eight hundred years too old for a vampire?
Somehow, I manage to help him get to the other side of the couch and take a seat.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “I did not bring you here to look after me.”
“You saved my life. I owe you so much more.”
He shakes his head. “No, you don’t. I only did what I should have done a long time ago. Now, we are even.”
He steered away from the subject last time, so I don’t ask what he means. We can talk about that later. Right now, I want to know about him.
“How did you become a vampire?” I ask as I take a seat on an armchair adjacent to his couch. “Or were you born one?”
“Vampires are not born,” he tells me. “We cannot reproduce. I was made by the Maker.”
“The Maker?”
“She is to us what the Moon Goddess is to werewolves. She offers a new beginning to the dying in exchange for their souls.”
“I’m assuming she doesn’t offer that to everyone.”
His pale lips stretch in a faint smile. “No. I died a bitter man. I was the perfect target. The idea of getting revenge was so inviting, I didn’t think twice before accepting.”
“What happened? How did you die?”
His gaze drops to the floor. “It’s a rather pathetic story.”
“If you don’t mind, I would like to hear it.”
Once he launches into his story from when he was still human, I lose track of time. He is a good storyteller, I forget who he is and who I am as I hang on to his every word. By the time he is done, the sun has set and darkness has set in.
His story is rather heartbreaking.
At twenty four, he joined the army on behalf of his older sickly brother. He left behind his family–a wife and two-year-old daughter.
He fought wars hundreds of miles away from home and was unable to get back for over a decade. When he finally got back, he found his brother living his life to his fullest.
He had taken his wife as his own. His daughter couldn’t remember him and they introduced him as her uncle. His brother was well off and offered him money to disappear from their lives forever.
Alexander refused the offer and they fought. His brother threw him out. He got drunk and got back for another fight. That’s when his brother murdered him.
While he was dying, the Maker came to him and offered him a second chance at life as an undead. He accepted. He woke up in the shallow grave his brother had buried him in. By the next morning, he had his revenge.
But his wife refused to leave with him. He was now a monster. She called the village priest, and he left before he got there. He never saw his family ever again.
I ask him whether he regretted accepting the Maker’s offer.
“I did, for many years.” His eyes move to the window. “Phillip will be here soon.”
I know that’s his warning to get out of the way if I’m uncomfortable. “I’ll stay with you.”
Phillip arrives soon after. He doesn’t teleport into the library like Alexander did earlier at the entrance. He comes in through the archway, carrying a cooler box in his hand.
When Alexander said he was his butler, I expected to see an older guy. So it’s a surprise that he doesn’t look any older than me.
Sure, he could be five hundred years old for all I know…but he must have become a vampire at a young age.
His eyes take me in for a moment before moving to Alexander. His eyes widen and he rushes forward. “Sir! Why didn’t you summon me earlier?”
He gets busy opening the cooler and within no time, he is presenting Alexander with a blood bag.
Alexander takes the bag and turns away from me before putting the tube between his lips. He asks for another bag soon after, and another, and another.
Is this how he feeds? Does this mean he never drinks from humans?
“Sir, this is not enough. Should I get a–”
“No!” Alexander cuts him short. “This is enough for now.”
“But–”
“You can leave,” he tells him.
“How can I leave when you are like this?” Phillip’s eyes flicker to me. “What will you do if something happens to you?”
“Nothing will happen to me. I’ll get more blood tomorrow. Don't worry about it.”
Phillip sighs and closes the now empty cooler. He collects the empty bags. “I’ll dump these. You should rest.”
Alexander looks at me. “Will you be okay? I need to rest for a while.”
Phillip snorts as he walks out of the room. “You still don’t trust me with her?”
Still? Have we met before?
Alexander’s eyes slide shut. “Never trust a vampire,” he whispers.
And then he goes still.
It takes me a while to realise he has fallen asleep.
“He has worsened.”
I startle and look up. Phillip is back.
He walks into the room and stands over Alexander. “I told him it was a bad idea to give too much blood, but he didn’t listen.”
“Is he like this because he gave me his blood?”
Phillip shakes his head. “Not entirely. He was sick before. Losing so much blood only deteriorated his state.”
“Will he recover?” I don’t want him to suffer because he saved me.
“He is too far gone.”
“Is it because he is too old?”
“There’s nothing like too old for a vampire.”
“He told me he is dying, that there’s nothing like immortality.”
“You can have it if you want it. It’s just…there are conditions.”
Conditions?
“He has been wasting for years,” he continues. “I don’t think there’s any hope for him.”
“Why is he like this?” I ask.
“Come with me.”
I follow him out of the library. We get back to the stairs and climb to the third floor. He heads towards the west side, away from my room. He opens a door and I go in after him.
“This is his room,” he says as the lights suddenly come on. “You should see this.”
My eyes find what he is talking about. I gasp softly. On one side of the room, hanging on the wall, is a portrait of a woman. A woman who looks exactly like me.
“He has lived in solitude for hundreds of years, mourning. Such agony is enough to weather even an immortal.”
“Solitude? He said he lives with his staff.”
“I’m his staff.”’
“Just you?”
“I begged him to turn me about a hundred years ago. There are not many like him. Only vampires who were made by the Maker can turn others. Living as a vampire wasn’t as easy as I had thought, so I came to him. When I found out he lives here alone, I couldn’t bear to leave again. He didn’t like it, but he got used to it. I’m glad I stayed. He would not have made it on his own for much longer.”
The thought of Alexander living in this huge castle on his own for decades upon decades is too heartbreaking to fathom.
Why would he live like that? What did she… I stop that thought. After everything he has done for me, it doesn’t feel right to act like the woman I’m looking at right now wasn’t me.
What happened between us to make him lead such a life when he is a powerful supernatural being?
“Do you know what happened between them?”
“He doesn’t talk about her. But it’s not just his grief that’s sending him to an early grave. It’s his lifestyle too. It’s unnatural for vampires to not drink straight from the vein. You have to drain everything, feed on their essence. The more lives you drain, the longer you live. That’s the condition for immortality.”
If someone saw us from afar, they’d think we are discussing the weather. That’s how he sounds like. A chill runs down my spine but I keep my horror hidden. Stefan didn’t mention that bit about vampires.
“We are creatures of the dark, but he got corrupted by the light. I once asked him why. He said he didn’t want to be a monster. That he wanted to be worthy of her.” He pauses and then adds, “Of you.”
I don’t correct him.
Whether Alexander ended up this way because of his grief or lifestyle…it’s all because of me.
“He is revered among our kind,” he adds. “He is a daywalker, one of the few vampires made by the Maker. He could be the most powerful vampire in the world if he wanted. Instead, he lives in solitude in his castle, waiting for death. Like he is punishing himself.”
Phillip’s words hang over me heavily for the rest of the night.
Later, he moves Alexander to his room. He tells me that he’ll likely be resting until tomorrow. He says he’ll stay the night–maybe I should be spooked by that, but I’m not.
Alexander wouldn’t have left me alone with Phillip if he thought he could hurt me.
When I go to bed, sleep deserts me.
I lay in bed for hours, unable to stop the thoughts racing through my head. I wonder what Stefan told the others about my disappearance. Do they care?
If Stefan knew about the baby, would he want it?
I think about Alexander. What happened during my past life for him to end up like this?
What about the werewolf sharing Stefan’s body? What does he have to do with all of this?
I eventually leave bed. Crossing to the other side of the floor, I head for Alexander’s room. I open the door and slip inside quietly then switch on the light.
He is lying on his bed, in the same posture Phillip left him in. I go to his bedside and watch his still form. Not even his chest is moving–he doesn’t need to breathe.
When he is better, I’ll ask about my past life again. Everything happening to me is because of what happened back then. I can no longer stay ignorant. Not if I don’t want to be caught off-guard again.
Ruby.
The name slithers inside my head like a soft caress.
I’m sorry for everything.
I swallow hard and keep watching him. His lips don’t move. He is in my head.
I should have turned you. You would have forgiven me at some point in our long life.