Carpathian 13 - Dark Destiny

of people.
    "You don't have a single ounce of self-preservation," Destiny accused. "Why don't you ever try to protect yourself?"
    "I don't know. All I could hear was the sound of his voice. It was so melodic—hypnotizing almost. I couldn't see him clearly until you spoke to me. Then he sounded horrible and grating and he looked…"
    Her voice trailed off as she sought the right word. "A monster. His teeth, so jagged and sharp. His fingernails were something out of a horror film. But at first he looked handsome. I would have gone to him if you hadn't pushed me into the church. Thank you, Destiny."
    Destiny could only stare at her in a kind of shock. "I'm not talking about him. You wouldn't have had a chance with him anyway. He was a vampire. They aren't easy to defeat, and you don't have the necessary knowledge or skills. I'm talking about me . You're happy to see me—"
    "Of course I'm happy to see you!" Mary Ann interrupted. "I was so worried, Destiny. I looked for you every day, all the places you might go, but I couldn't find you anywhere. Don't ever scare me like that again. You should have come to my house. Didn't you think I'd be worried?"
    "Yes, I thought you'd be worried that I might kill you by draining every drop of your blood," Destiny said. She could hardly endure the conversation.
    MaryAnn was telling the truth; Destiny could read her anxiety. It made no sense, and Mary Ann's lack of fear, lack of self-preservation, angered her.
    "That's silly. I saw your injuries. I wanted to take care of you."
    Destiny studied her hands. "How can you say that? You must know what I am."
    "What is it you think you are?" MaryAnn asked softly, her voice as gentle as ever. There was no hint of condemnation. No hint of laughter. Just MaryAnn's quiet acceptance. Unconditional acceptance.
    "You saw me. And you saw it . The vampire. You must know I'm one of them." Destiny couldn't look at her. She couldn't bear to see the revulsion looking back at her in those trusting eyes. "I'm sorry—I shouldn't have allowed our lives to touch. You won't remember, but I want you to know that I give you my word of honor I will never harm you."
    There was a small silence, and her stomach churned and knotted. She felt MaryAnn's touch. Light. Her fingers settled on Destiny's forearm. "Why do you believe you are a vampire?"
    Destiny stiffened as if she'd been struck. "He took my blood. He forced me to drink his. I think that's the accepted way of making a human into a vampire."
    MaryAnn nodded. "Well, of course, from what I've seen in movies. Is that where you're getting your information, too? The movies?"
    "You don't have to believe me," Destiny pulled her arm away from MaryAnn. She could hear hearts beating. She could hear the ebb and flow of blood. The whispers of private conversations. "I'm not crazy." She said it firmly, more for her own benefit than for MaryAnn's.

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    "I know that. I couldn't leave the church, even though I knew you were in danger and I wanted to go help you. I sat there until morning, although I prayed for the strength to leave. But I couldn't. I saw him, Destiny. I saw and heard everything he said." MaryAnn shivered delicately. "He wanted you to call me out of the church."
    Destiny nodded her head. "Yes—to share your blood." She said it bluntly, wanting to conclude this conversation. She had forgotten how emotions could tie one up in painful knots. She preferred physical pain.
    "Let's go back to why you believe you're a monster. What makes you think so, Destiny? Because this maniac, this vampire, exchanged blood with you?" MaryAnn asked. "I can only go by what I've read in books or seen in movies. I know little of vampires and didn't for a moment believe they existed until I witnessed that horrible man. Now I'm open to the possibility, but I still can't believe you are one. Garlic, for instance…"
    Destiny shuddered. "I never go near the stuff. I don't know what it would do to me, but I don't dare try it." She pushed an unsteady hand through her hair. " I haven't looked in a mirror in years. I don't think I have a reflection, but I don't know for certain. I want so much to enter the church, but I can't take the chance."
    "Sweetheart—" MaryAnn caught her firmly and turned her. "Your reflection is just as clear as mine in the mirror there. And you happen to be standing directly under a string of garlic. You haven't even noticed