Greek Gifts

Kaeden Parish sat in a diner, picking miserably at his food. He’d shoved out 12 dollars for the meal, but he just couldn’t bring himself to eat it. The problem wasn’t that he wasn’t hungry. Truth be told, he was ravenous, a fierce feeling of starvation seemingly gnawing away at his insides. No, the problem was that food did nothing for him. If anything, it intensified his hunger.

His appetite had been acting funny ever since the night before, after some lowlife mugged him as he was getting ready to go pick up his girlfriend.

He never did call her to explain why he didn’t show as he knew he should; after all, she did have a tendency to worry. A lot. However, he just couldn’t dredge up any incentive to. After all, he was still trying to figure out what had happened himself. The night was such a blur. He and Genesis were supposed to be going to a movie after his shift at a local antique bookstore was over. He had circled around to the back of the building where he’d parked his Sentra. That was when things started to get hazy. All he could really remember was a sudden sharp pain in his neck, a feeling like fire scorching through his veins that left him fully incapacitated, and waking up on the ground next to his car, the metallic, yet inexplicably pleasing—it had scared him just how pleasing—taste of blood in his mouth; he figured he must've bitten his tongue or something when he hit the ground.

He didn’t go to the police as nothing was stolen, but the event had left him more than a little disturbed. It was 2am and he couldn’t sleep, focus, or relax.

I’d be able to do all of the above, he thought heatedly, if this freakin’ headache would just go away.

Still wired from the incident, his senses were at their peak, the acuteness of his sight and hearing giving him a migraine. At least, that was what he was attributing his heightened senses to. It was a bit of a stretch though, seeing as he could very easily hear conversations and activities going on all around him and even the sounds of cars and people outside. He’d never heard of adrenaline doing that. Normally he might have been more concerned that there was a drug deal going on out there but right then he just didn’t care. He cared about silence. He wanted sweet, wholesome, blessed silence. Or at least relief from the worst part of the hearing: the sounds of the people eating. The sounds of teeth scraping forks, the sounds of someone sucking on a bone, the sounds of mouths slurping beverages, the sounds of people swishing their saliva as they savor food that probably wasn’t that good to begin with. The sounds, the sounds, the sounds. They made him shudder and want to puke. This wasn’t helped by the pungent smell that haunted the diner. It wasn’t just one smell but a whole myriad of smells. The smell of cooking grease, food, sweat, smoke, and people all rolled together. Those smells did not mix well. They almost drowned out another more pleasing smell but not quite. He halfway wished they had. The pleasing smell threatened to…he wasn’t sure what it was threatening to do to him but he didn’t want it to. Or did he? He wasn’t sure. The only thing he was certain he wanted was to eat. To feed. To end this thirst-like hunger. He wanted it to stop. He wanted—

The smells were accompanied by something else as well. Something like smells but not. The not-smells rolled off of people in waves, merging together and swirling around the premises. Around Kaeden. They were oppressing and made him feel crowded though he sat away from everyone else.

The sight wasn’t so bad; just a little weird. His vision had never been 20/20, but now he had no problems seeing to the other side of the diner, through the glass doors, and across the parking lot to see the expired license plate of an old Honda Accord. Vision like that made looking at anything up close dizzying. He looked out the window, just able to see his reflection on the pane. He looked pale, a fact that wasn’t too shocking, given the night’s events. What was a little troubling was that his eyes, which had been a clear grey for as long as he could remember, had become an icy blue. It shouldn’t have been so weird; lots of people had eyes that changed colors. It was just that he’d never been one of those people and he didn’t care much for the change. Somehow, it made his whole face look different. That was helped along by a change in his hair. It wasn’t terribly noticeable; his hair was still the russet brown it had always been, just…glossier. It was weird. Unnerved by his changing appearance, he looked past his reflection and out the window. It was still dark, but dawn couldn’t be too far off. Maybe it was time to leave…

“Excuse me.” He turned around to see a waitress standing next to him. “May I take your plate?” Absently, she pushed her hair away from her face, and Kaeden watched as some stray strands were pulled across her throat. She had an exquisite neck, long and slender. He could almost see the blood pumping through her veins. He even thought he could hear it, though it was more likely his own blood pounding in his ears. She smelled so incredibly good, a floral scent radiating off of her, nearly driving Kaeden insane. He was scaring himself, but he couldn’t help it. He wanted to—no; he needed to—sink his—

“Uh…sir.” Kaeden shook his head, the waitress’s voice cutting off those bizarre thoughts and the feelings that accompanied them. Because of her proximity, the not-smell coming off of her was more distinct. It tasted bitter, like unsweetened coffee/oversteeped tea. Suddenly he realized he was tasting impatience. He couldn’t blame that on adrenaline. What the hell was happening to him?

“Wha? Oh…yeah,” he said. “I’m done.”

Kaeden watched as she took his picked over food and walked way, leaving him feeling oddly deprived and more starved than before. He—

His thoughts dropped off suddenly as a new sensation replaced his despair, confusion, and, to a degree, his hunger. It was a strange feeling like an itch on the edge of his mind. Something was calling him outside. It told him answers were waiting.

The seventeen-year-old was out of the diner before he realized he’d stood up. He also didn’t notice until then that he’d taken a knife from the table. He’d never approved of stealing but right then, with things as they were, it seemed so trivial. He had to find answers. He just had to.

Kaeden paused. He’d been going where the feeling urged him, but now he stopped and sniffed the air as a breeze gained strength, sending the intoxicating and unmistakable scent of blood to meet him. The smell awakened in him a feral animal that he’d never known existed; it overpowered the force that had been leading him and urged him to find the source of the blood. Changing directions, he headed for the scent.

A park? That was where he found himself when the scent of blood was strongest. Weird, he thought. Everything seemed calm. In fact, the silence that had settled over the park, though appreciated by Kaeden, was unnatural, almost eerie…until a hiss sounded behind Kaeden. He whirled around, panicked. It’d been a reflex, really; he hadn’t expected to see anything. After all, it was a new moon and the stars weren’t giving off much light. However, when he looked toward the sound, he saw with a clarity that surprised and almost scared him a guy trying to fend off a creature of the likes he’d never seen before and never wanted to see again. It looked exactly like a human at first glance…if your first glance was very, very fleeting. True, the shape of the body was humanoid, but that was all that was. Its skin, which was a pale silver blue color, like that of nighttime clouds just before a rainstorm, looked like some form of leather. Judging by the groin and chest, both of which were covered by patches of gold and moss green scales, the thing was female. A very dangerous-looking female. Her lips were parted in a snarl, revealing glistening white fangs, and claw-like nails extending almost two inches from the tips of her fingers were bared. Her feet, split hooves, came to sharp points, making any kick from her potentially lethal. She had slightly pointed ears, flame red hair, and an ornate black tattoo that covered virtually all of her back. It was through this mark that two wings, the same blue leather as her skin, protruded. More scales covered her forearms, shins, forehead, and temples. All in all, it was a very scary sight. And yet, despite it all, the thing was still utterly beautiful. An otherworldly beauty that called to him. To Kaeden, that was the creepiest part of all.

He was surprised when he noticed that the blood he smelled was coming from the creature. As odd as it seemed, of the two, the human was doing better as far as health was concerned; he didn’t have a single scratch. Kaeden wondered if he had brought the gaping hole where the creature’s heart should’ve been into existence, and if so, why the thing wasn’t lying dead on the ground. The creature’s sorry state did explaine the tart odor that mingled with and made less enticing the blood’s alluring scent, but logically, it made no sense. Kaeden almost laughed at that; nothing about this night was making sense and by all accounts, a human holding his own against some beast thing was by far one of the most normal things that had happened within the last couple of hours. Logic was long since thrown out the window.

Kaeden watched the two figures and wondered vaguely if he should even bother trying to help the guy; after all, he seemed to be doing fine all on his own.

As if to disprove his thoughts, the creature lunged at the man, tackling him and pinning him to the ground. The claws of its right hand were poised just above the man’s chest where Kaeden knew his heart must be. He had no doubts that if this she-beast decided she wanted to skewer this man with her bare hands, she would be able to. The guy looked up to stare not at her but at her claw, no longer moving. He seemed a little nervous but largely unconcerned. Nonetheless, the creature noticed his tension and a malicious smile crossed her face. Kaeden decided that skewering the man with her bare hands was exactly what she wanted to do.

Kaeden’s hand moved seemingly of its own accord; he almost didn’t realize that he had thrown the knife. He thought for a moment that his effort had been wasted; apparently, his hand didn’t understand the concept of aim. However, his aim, like all of his senses, was at its peak. The knife lodged itself in the creature’s shoulder, making it cry out in pain. It turned to look a Kaeden as if determining its next move under the changed circumstances. The pearl colored eyes that bore into Kaeden's were too intelligent, too human. The part of him that was still thinking of this thing as an animal died. No animal had eyes like that.

The man on the ground didn’t seem concerned with the thing’s eyes; he was concerned with the diversion Kaeden had caused. Taking this as an opportunity to strike, he slashed at the creature with a weapon even Kaeden’s eyes didn’t quite catch. The thing shrieked, and launched itself into the sky and disappeared into the darkness, trailing blood. Kaeden was a bit stunned after that, but once he his wits returned to him, he turned his attention to the man.

“Hey!” Kaeden called. “Are you alright?” He took a step toward him, but the guy leapt away.

“Bloodsucking wretch! Why have you interfered?”

Bloodsucking wretch? thought Kaeden. Real nice, dude. You’re welcome. Nice to meet you too. He shook his head, disbelieving. What asylum did this nut crawl out of? Aloud, he merely stated, “I’m out of here.” He knew it wasn’t a good idea to mess around with the crazies. Or particularly hostile strangers who put holes in bizarre looking beast things and got mad when someone tried to help them. However, he’d only taken a few steps when the guy called out to him.

“Wait! I think we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot, here.”

Kaeden turned to face him. He smelled funny, like cotton balls dipped in rubbing alcohol and Kaeden found this slightly distracting. “You just called me a bloodsucking wretch,” he pointed out.

“Well, yes,” the man said. “And I offer my most of abject apologies. And, if you’ll excuse my earlier rudeness, I believe we can help each other. I’ll answer all of your questions if you agree to answer just a few of mine in return. You do need answers, do you not?” Kaeden, who had resumed walking, hesitated but only slightly.

“Not from you, loony toon.” The guy tried again.

“You’re starving aren’t you? I can help with that.” Kaeden faltered. The last thing he wanted was to accept help from this yo-yo, but if he could put an end to this wretched hunger…

Kaeden shook his head; there was no way he was going anywhere with this lunatic.

I can’t believe I’m going somewhere with this lunatic, Kaeden thought as he followed the man up the stairs of a condo. His resolve to stay away from the psycho guy had lasted a good two minutes until the hunger flared up again. Then again, thought Kaeden, if he can curb this hunger, he’ll be my new best friend.

As they walked down the hall, nighttime sounds washed over Kaeden. Despite this, he was thankful for the late hour for, were he here during the day, he’d have had a lot more than snoring, late-night talk shows, and the occasional sounds of intimacy (which he could have done without) to assault his ears. The man finally stopped at a door which he proceeded to unlock and pass through. When Kaeden followed, he found himself in an elegant apartment. It was richly furnished with leather sofas, mahogany tables, and hardwood floors; for one of such questionable sanity, the guy sure seemed to be doing well.

Kaeden followed him into the kitchen, which was as classy as the rest of the space.

“Stainless steel,” Kaeden commented. “Nice.” The guy shrugged as he rummaged around in search of a glass. When he found one, he walked over to the refrigerator.

“If you say so. Ah, here it is.” He pulled a pitcher of claret liquid out of the refrigerator and poured some into the glass. “Here.” He offered the glass to Kaeden who looked at it dubiously with an arched eyebrow. When the liquid’s smell reached him, however, he stiffened and leaned back. It smelled so good and he wanted it badly. Very badly. Badly enough to attack the guy for it if it came to that. That scared him. He edged away, attempting to escape the scent.

“You’re crazier than I thought if you expect me to drink that. What the hell is it anyway?” He had an idea but his mind immediately rebelled against it, refusing to entertain such a ridiculous notion.

“That’s not important,” the guy said impatiently. “Come now, let’s not be difficult. You’ll feel much better afterwards, trust me.” Kaeden raised the other eyebrow. “Oh fine,” the man muttered. “You don’t have to trust me, but drink it anyway. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“I could fall to the ground, twitching and writhing before finally keeling over and saying goodbye to my place in the world of the living,” Kaeden pointed out, still trying to fight off the scent’s effect.

The man smirked. “Believe me, that ship has sailed.” Kaeden was about to ask what that was supposed to mean when another stab of hunger struck him. This time it was more like an intense wave of pain than anything else. It brought him to his knees, sweating and gritting his teeth against the ache.

The man knelt beside him. “Just drink it,” he said in a voice too pushy to be gentle. “I promise it will help.” Kaeden looked at the guy, at the same time trying to push back the hunger. He had no reason to trust him. Only an idiot would accept an unknown substance from him. It could be poison. It could be Aunt Deborah. It could be anything. The hunger pang that followed convinced Kaeden that he didn’t care; anything was better than this. He stood, steadied himself, and took the glass.

“Cheers, I guess.”

He only sipped at first, but then found himself downing it like it was the Nectar of Life. Actually, for that instant, it was just that. It felt to Kaeden as if it was his only reason for living, his only reason for wanting to live. A sense of peace like nothing he’d ever felt before replaced the feeling of starvation. This was nothing short of Heaven. He’d drank nearly all of it before he was able to pry the glass away from his lips long enough to phrase a question.

“Wha-what was that?” he stammered, a little breathless from what the experience.

“Cloned blood. Bon appetite.” Kaeden spat out what he’d just put in his mouth, simultaneously dropping the glass, revulsion and disbelief etched on his face. He had to work to get even a glimmer of surprise there, though.

“Wh-what the hell is wrong with you?!” he stuttered. “What are you trying to do? Poison me?”

“Not at all,” the man said. “I’m merely trying to keep you from starving yourself into a feeding frenzy.”

“I’d have settled for a hamburger like any normal person,” Kaeden muttered.

“But you’re not a normal person,” the guy stated. “Not anymore.”

“Then what, pray tell, am I, O Wise One?” Kaeden’s sarcastic tone was marred slightly by a tremble in his voice.

“A vampire. You’ve been caught in the crossfire of a war. Congratulations; you’ve been drafted.” Kaeden began backing away.

“You’re crazy, you-you…” He stopped, it once again occurring to him that he knew nothing about this guy. “Who are you? Come to think of it, what are you?”

“Rhiam,” he said, giving a little bow. “Fallen angel, at your service.” Kaeden looked the man up and down; though the phrase ‘runway model’ came to mind, ‘Rhiam,’ as he called himself, looked pretty human to Kaeden: smart-looking black suit, six feet tall, blond hair, whoa!—lilac colored eyes. Creepy. In any case, that was the oddest thing about him.

“Aren’t you supposed to have wings, a tarnished halo, horns, and wear a toga?”

Rhiam sniffed. “Slighting me isn’t going to make you any less of a vampire.”

“Stop calling me that!” Kaeden ordered, just short of shouting.

“But it’s what you are.” Before Kaeden could argue, he added, “How else can you explain your reaction to the blood?”

Kaeden hesitated for a moment, partly because the fact that he’d drank someone else’s blood was making him nauseous and partly because he didn’t know what to say. “Well,” he countered after a moment, “how do you explain my reflection? You know; the fact that I have one.” Rhiam smiled slightly.

“You watch too many movies.”

Kaeden sighed and began rubbing his temples hopelessly. “You’re lying. Why are you doing this to me? My life is fine. Why are you coming in trying to screw it up?”

“Me?” Rhiam said in mock shock. “I haven’t done anything. I’m here to help.”

“How?” Kaeden asked, simultaneously kicking himself for letting himself go along with this for even the slightest amount of time. There was no way it was true. It just couldn’t be. Despite his convictions, he still found himself bringing his hand to his mouth to check for razor sharp canines.

“They’ll only come out when you’re hurt, hunting, or feel threatened,” Rhiam offered, reading Kaeden’s actions.

“For a fallen angel you sure seem to know a lot about… vampires.” Kaeden choked on the word, thus failing to sound derisive

“I make it my business to know about them.”

“Why? And why are you helping me? Aren’t fallen angels supposed to be evil? Shouldn’t you be out forming a cult or something? Are you working for Satan?! No way. He doesn’t exist. You don’t exist!” Rhiam cocked his head.

“You think I don’t exist?” he asked mockingly. “Well in that case, you’re wrong on almost all accounts. Not that it matters anyway. I think you’ve got the wrong idea here. I’m not doing this out of the goodness of my heart; I do want something in return.” Kaeden tensed. “Oh, it’s nothing big. I just want information.”

“On what?”

“The war between the vampires and the dryyds.” Under normal circumstances, Kaeden would have burst into laughter. However, these were not normal circumstances and he wasn’t sure what was considered laughable. Instead he asked,

“What’s a dryyd?” Rhiam shook his head.

“Of course; you wouldn’t know, would you? They’re even older than the vampires; even the legends about them have died out, now. Dryyds are a species, just like vampires and humans. You saw me kill one in the—oh that’s right; I lost my chance because you intervened. I really wish you hadn’t; it was getting tired and reckless, and soon, I would’ve been able to kill it.” Kaeden made a face. “What?”

“I really wish I hadn’t either.”

“But then you’d be wasting away somewhere, with no idea as to what’s wrong with you. At least until you attacked someone out of sheer hunger or the sun came out and fried you to a crisp.”

“Yes, but then you’d be stashed dead in an alley somewhere with a gaping hole in your chest.” Kaeden took a moment to enjoy that image. “What a horrible loss that would be.” Rhiam sniffed.

“Hardly. The dryyd was only after my heart and seeing as I don’t have one, even if the dryyd had managed to stab me, not much would have happened. Dryyds can only sense…life essence, if you will, not blood. As soon as it realized that it couldn’t have my heart or even kill me, it would’ve left. So essentially, all that would’ve happened was I’d have been in severe pain and phased out for a while. That’s it.”

“So me trying to help you was a complete and utter waste?”

“Doesn’t have to be. Our meeting could benefit us both. The details aren’t important. All I need you to do is find out when and where the next battle is. Do this one thing and I will give you…this.” He made a motion with his hand and above it materialized a jewel. It was blood red, not quite a stone but more like a shard.

“Holy shit!” Kaeden jumped backward in surprise, only to trip and fall backwards against a sofa. Rhiam squatted beside him with the shard hovering just above his palm, a patronizing smile on his face. “You’re not joking about all this, are you?” Kaeden asked, shocked. Rhiam’s smile widened.

“Do you think it’s funny?” Kaeden had never found anything less humorous in his life. He glanced at the shard warily. The red glow it gave off was kind of eerie but also calming in a way. As he looked at it, his disquiet eased and even the hunger, which had begun to flare up again, diminished. “This is a fragment of mortalità cristallizzata. Those who have heard of it will more likely call this a Shard of Anima though. It drains a vampire’s immortality and the hunger for the blood needed to sustain it.” Kaeden flinched at the word. “I suppose it’d work on any other immortal being, it’s just that no one’s ever tried it before.”

“Shard of Anima, huh,” Kaeden said, still eyeing the shard. “How does it work?”

“It’s very simple, really. You drive the shard into the base of your carotid artery and it will take care of the rest.” Kaeden looked at the shard. It was only about an inch-and-a-half long but the points were sharp and would no doubt hurt and/or kill someone if thrust through that person’s throat.

“Oh, hell no,” Kaeden muttered.

“Come now,” Rhiam said, “I thought you wanted your life back to normal. Is it really so hard? You’re a teenager, correct? Haven’t you ever cut before? It’s the same basic principle. Think about it. Then you could have your life back; all I want is information. That’s more than fair, right?” Kaeden bit his lip. “Or you can remain one of those filthy bloodsuckers for the remainder of you newly extended life. Or afterlife. Or whatever you’d like to call it.” With that, he clenched his fist around the shard and it flickered out of existence. He went back to the kitchen and when he returned, held another glass.

“Here. You look like death.” He laughed, apparently thinking this incredibly witty.

It took all of Kaeden’s willpower not to take it; the effort showed in his eyes, desire visibly battling suspicion as the dominant emotion on his face. “What’s a ‘fallen angel’ doing with cloned blood in his refrigerator?” Another thought came to him. “While we’re on it, what’s a fallen angel doing with a refrigerator and a condo anyway?”

“Oh, I don’t live here,” Rhiam said off-handedly. “She does.” He pointed to a picture sitting on the coffee table that Kaeden hadn’t noticed before. “She should really be more imaginative with where she hides her key.” Kaeden turned to glance at the picture, but then halted when recognition dawned. No. It couldn’t be. After a few more seconds of staring though, he found that his mind couldn’t refute what his eyes were telling him. As crazy as it was, as psychotic as it was, he couldn’t deny it: the picture was of Genesis.