“Abandoned”
by Mychael Black
He was late. He was never late. Trent sighed and turned away from
the window. The sheer azure curtain fell back into place as a thin gray
cloud passed over the moon. Trent felt a shadow pass over his heart,
but he chose to ignore it. Nothing was wrong. Ky would come home.
Two hours passed. Trent set his book down and looked into the
darkened hallway. The grandfather clock ticked away time. The pendulum
swung lazily behind a pane of etched glass, reminding Trent of the
passing with every tick. He returned his attention to his book in order
to keep from pacing the floor again.
When four o’clock arrived Trent heard the latch on the front door
give way. He threw his book to the floor and hurried out of the parlor.
A figure stood hunched over in the foyer, leaning against the wall.
Trent’s heart caught in his throat as the figure reached out to him.
“Trent...”
Trent caught Ky in his arms. Ky’s once-white shirt was soaked with
blood. His chestnut hair hung over his face and Trent brushed it gently
away. The sight that greeted him made his head spin and his heart to
skip several beats in fear.
“Ky! My God, what happened?” He traced his fingertips over the
lines of dried blood on Ky’s cheek. The cuts had long since
disappeared.
“Hunters,” Ky said weakly. He leaned into Trent as they walked slowly down the hall.
Trent kicked open the bedroom door and helped Ky to the bed. He
eased Ky down onto the bed and slid his fingers through Ky’s hair. He
pulled his hand away and stared at the blood. Ky’s blood. Trent felt a
bout of nausea well up inside him, but he pushed it away. Ky needed
help; Trent didn’t have time to be sick.
“Not safe,” Ky murmured as Trent started to unbutton his
shirt. Ky’s hand on his wrist stopped him. “You’re
not safe, Trent.”
“I have to get you cleaned up, Ky,” Trent said, ignoring Ky’s
feeble protests. He slid Ky’s shirt off of his shoulders and Ky pulled
his arms out slowly. “Don’t move.”
Trent went into the bathroom and soaked a washcloth in warm water.
He grabbed a towel and went back to the bed. Using only a corner of the
washcloth, he wiped away the blood on Ky’s face, revealing the man he
had fallen in love with. Ky’s eyes were closed, but he moved his hand
to Trent’s thigh.
“Love you,” Ky whispered. Trent stopped washing him.
“I love you too, Ky. How many were there?”
“Four. I don’t think they saw which way I went. They were too busy dealing with another to remember me.”
“So you weren’t the only one attacked?”
Ky shook his head, then groaned. Trent leaned down and pressed his
lips to Ky’s forehead. He felt colder than normal. Trent cupped Ky’s
face gently and turned his head to see his eyes.
“Don’t lie to me, Ky,” he said. “You’ve lost too much blood, haven’t you?”
Ky groaned and nodded. Trent dropped the rag and stood. He quickly
shed his clothes and stretched out beside Ky. Ky shook his head.
“No, Trent. I’ve lost too much. If I take what I need, you won’t survive.”
Trent raised his head. “I don’t care. If that’s your worry, then turn me after.”
Ky shot him a disbelieving look. “You said you didn’t want to become what I am.”
Trent glanced down and trailed his fingertips over Ky’s smooth,
bare chest. “I know I did,” he said quietly. “But I can’t stand the
thought of losing you. If keeping you means becoming what you are, then
I’ll do it.”
“You would do that? You would turn your back on everything in your life for me?”
Trent looked up and met Ky’s dark gaze. “Only for you.” He felt
Ky’s body grow colder and he knew they didn’t have much time. “I’m
serious, Ky.” He propped himself up and leaned over to brush his lips
across Ky’s. “I love you.”
He pressed his lips to Ky’s and felt the chill of his lover’s
impending death. Ky slid an arm around his neck and pulled him down.
Trent closed his eyes and waited. Ky had become such a part of his life
that to live without him was unthinkable. When Ky’s teeth brushed over
the sensitive part of his neck, Trent sucked in a breath. A hiss of
pain escaped him as Ky’s fangs sank into his flesh. Trent held Ky to
him as Ky drank deeply. When he felt his own heartbeat slow to a crawl,
Trent swallowed the panic. Ky pulled away and Trent saw the spark of
vitality return to his dark eyes.
“I’m sorry, Trent,” he whispered. “But I cannot bear to bring you into this world.”
Trent felt his panic surface once more and he tried to call out.
His voice refused to obey him. He wanted to raise his hands to pull Ky
to him, to plead with him, but they too refused to obey. Ky hovered
over him, a peaceful smile on his blood-stained lips. Trent felt the
weight of heartache crush him as Ky left the bed. When the door to the
bedroom closed, Trent felt the darkness settle around him. It drew him
in... like a dark lover draws in his prey.
(c) 2005 Mychael Black