His Blood

And so I found myself on a platform suspended high above a glossy ballroom floor. It was hanging seamlessly from nothingness and magical in its weightlessness. The polished golden-yellow hardwood slats of each oblong platform reflected the candle light of the overhead chandeliers across the open gallery. The room was indescribably glorious in size, hundreds at feet in every direction and each platform went on for several feet all around me. My head was spinning from the massiveness of it all.

And then, he appeared. And then, he came to me, the dark shadowy color of his long sweeping coat gliding with him like a pair of raven wings. His eyes were hard to define beneath the shadows of the reflections, but the fineness of his long onyx hair was obvious as it framed his face with great care.

He stretched out his arm and reached a hand towards me, his fingers curling inward gently, enticing me in. My hand came up and I instinctually took his with no hesitance or fear.

My fingers held softly in his grasp, he took a step backward, still facing me and nearly gliding on his exceptionally light feet, the heels of his shoes just making the faintest sound against the platform. His fingers clasped mine ever so gracefully and each backward step was like a subtle dance, luring me closer into his gaze.

Abruptly, the platform ended, and a rounded edge curved up, forming the slightest guardrail to keep my feet from slipping completely off. I felt safe with him, however, and not a moment of thought kept me from following his every move, even when a single misstep could end in a perilous fall.

Still facing me, he bent a knee and his foot went up onto the edge behind him, and then he rose again to step backwards to the next platform, ever so carefully bringing me along, my steps guided by his. Never for a moment had I regarded the great fall that awaited me, had he let go between those steps.

There was a series of platforms, one after the other, heading upward into nowhere like a set of endless golden stairs. But the distance didn't bother me, I only wanted to be in his waking stare... and I was. It was voluntary and surreal. I was trapped in that stare, unable to pull away. Nor did I want to.

His eyes never left me, not even to turn away and take another step, for he knew well where he was taking me. It was somewhere, anywhere, but nowhere I could see from where we were. The weightless floors seemed to go on forever.

And then, one especially dark-colored amber platform came into view and he drew me up and onto it. Across it we went, until we were about halfway through. Graceful and mesmerizing was his every step. My eyes still intently locked onto his, trapped in their endless depth.

We stopped quite suddenly. His eyes broke from mine for only a moment and he circled me from behind, his gaze never parting from some portion of my skin. He paused before me, standing as elegantly as ever, with such poise and posture that he was mythical and beautiful in every sense. Statuesque in his perfection.

His mysterious irises set quite firmly on mine, he brought the inside of his wrist to his lips and opened his mouth just slightly around it to press his daintily pointed fangs into the soft flesh of his veins.

A breath caught in my throat.

He was enchanting and hypnotic in the smoothness of his actions. I was in awe, breathless and longing for him to make me his as I watched a faint trickle of crimson slide off his skin.

I gasped as it hit the floor.

His lips came together and a fine grin spread across them, his blood lingering still in the edges of his smile. It was subtle and seductive, calling for me and pulling me closer without even a step. The distance between us was trivial, and the tiny hairs on the back of my neck stood as the fingers of his hand brushed against my cheek.

He stepped nearer and tilted his head just enough to bring his face unto mine and then brought a passionate kiss down against my parted lips.

It was then that I felt it—a euphoria of distinct essence and experience. His blood was chilling and cool to my skin but so eerily real, potent and tasteless aside from the desire in his kiss. But that lust was enough to set fire to my heart for he had shared with me the greatest gift of all—his life.