Page 162 of Afflicted

I sigh as I meet her eyes. “It will be, it’ll be even better.”

“Can I - I mean, do vamps bite each other?”

I kiss her jaw, and she shivers. “That’s an extremely intimate thing that’s only done with someone you love.” I nibble on her earlobe. “It’s extremely pleasurable for both parties.”

“Well, that sounds like fun.” She wraps her arms around my waist. “I’m ready now.”

“OK. Let’s get you dried off and comfortable.”

We’d discussed this a lot over the past year. After our arrival in Philadelphia, the world had slowly begun to rebuild. Within three months, the numbers of the Afflicted had dwindled almost to nothing, as the virus that robbed them of the ability to gather strength from blood left them as nothing but starving corpses.

I worked with Dr. Harris at the lab, and the advances his team was making in vaccines were incredible. The synthetic blood alternative had been perfected within 6 months, meaning vampires no longer relied on humans, and that was when the world really started to come back to life. The city around us started to feel like a city again, and Juliet was happy teaching art when the local elementary school reopened.

But the discussions around our future were a little more difficult to navigate. Juliet’s period never returned, and an examination told us that the years of depo shots, far beyond what was medically advisable, would make conception extremely difficult. It was a problem many were facing, yet another horrific mismanagement of the vamps in the preservation centers.

For Juliet, it was made even more difficult by the fact that she had a vampire partner. Even with a human, it could potentially take her years to conceive. With me, it was virtually impossible. Juliet struggled with this revelation for a few weeks, and I was unsure how to comfort her through it. All I wanted was a future with her, and if that included a child she desperately desired, I wanted to give her that.

But then one day, she began to ask about being turned. I talked her through it, over and over, until she began to become comfortable with the idea. She finally accepted that it wouldn’t make her a monster, wouldn’t change her at any fundamental level, it would just mean we’d be together forever.

She talked to Gina about it, who’d been moved into the same building as us after Juliet had put in a special request. Gina was surprisingly supportive. Like any mother, or someone who was close enough to being one, she simply wanted Juliet to be happy. That was the final piece of the puzzle, and Juliet told me she wanted to do it. We decided tonight, our first wedding anniversary, was the perfect night to start our new life together.

By the time we’re back in the bedroom and on our enormous bed, she’s wide-eyed and shaking. She lies down, biting her lower lip and gazing at me uncertainly.

“Now remember, angel, this won’t hurt,” I tell her, stroking her cheek. I’m a little nervous myself. I’ve never done this before, I’m running on sheer instinct to know when to stop. But I have to trust myself, and show her she can trust me too. “It’ll be like falling asleep. You’ll be all groggy, and then you’ll wake up feeling like you can lift a lorry.”

“A what?” She asks with a sweet little frown.

“A truck, angel.”

“Oh.” She swallows hard. “Am I going to get jacked like you?”

I laugh softly. “I doubt it.”

“Maybe it’ll all just go to my ass.” She holds her hands up, a foot apart. “I always wanted a dump truck ass. I mean, is that like a request we can make?”

“You’re nervous.”

“Yeah.” She sucks in a breath. “Just a little.”

I chuckle softly and kiss her, stroking my fingers through her silky hair. “It’ll be alright. I promise.”

She inhales deeply, then nods. “OK. I’m ready.”

I kiss her again, one last human kiss, then lower my mouth to her throat. “I love you, angel.”

“I love you, too.” She places hesitant shaking hands on my shoulders.

Her fingers dig in for a split second as I strike, her body reacting to the venom as it always does. She pants and moans, raking her fingers through my hair. I drink her blood down, more and more, hot and sweet as it runs down my throat.

She starts to go quiet, her body soft. Her hands lay on my back lightly, until one drops down, then the other. Her breathing is shallow. Her heartbeat slows until it’s barely audible.

I pull back, tearing open my wrist and pressing it to her mouth.

“Drink, angel.”

Her tongue traces along my veins, slowly, her eyes rolling back in her head. Another stroke of her tongue, and her throat bobs as she swallows. Her mouth cups the wound, and she begins to suck.

“That’s it, angel.”

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