The Vampire & the Rebel (Completed)

Part 1: Chapter 23

I had been so close to drinking Jamie's blood. It was almost like he was willing.

Except he was absolutely not and it was entirely unsporting to take advantage of our agreement. Worst of all, getting his blood like that would be altogether boring. I would not see our games conclude like that.

He had agreed and he was good at hiding his emotions, but his stiffness said it all. His teeth gritted, his eyes narrowed with his rage, his eyebrows tilted up and then down with his confusion and indecision.

I could have taken what I wanted and he would not have fought me. Desperately, I wanted to.

But in the taking, I sensed other things I might want even more than his blood would be further, perhaps even impossibly far from me.

I barely even knew what I desired, which was an unfamiliar feeling. I wanted his blood, I wanted his body, and I wanted to continue my games with him indefinitely, but there might have been something more that I did not quite fathom. When I understood myself, I could turn my attention and efforts and resources towards gaining my desire, but this, this was something different.

How perplexing.

However, what I did understand was that my plans to ignore him had been broken by him simply coming into this room unexpectedly.

I had been so lost in my thoughts of my loss in the council that I had not even noticed him until he entered, completely caught off guard by a person who definitely wanted to kill me. How ridiculous to have let down my guard like that.

Discomfort was an unfamiliar sensation and the cause of it was still sitting beside me. I looked away from him and decided to distract us both with a nice diverting change of topic.

"Do you know the story of Icarus?" I asked him.

"No, Mistress."

I probably would have hated him calling me that except there was something soothing in his surly tone. He was doing such a good job of hiding his lingering resentment, but I could still hear that faint trace.

"It's an old story, a very old story. It makes me look young in comparison and there is not many things left in this world that can do that. I don't remember all the details, of course, but Icarus was a young male human whose father was a useful sort of slave, something of an inventor. I would definitely have found a use for him if I had gotten my hands on him."

"However, some other sort of monstrous being had them entrapped on an island. In order to help his son escape, Icarus' father created wings of wax and feathers and strapped them to his son so that he could fly to freedom. His father warned him neither to fly too low for fear of getting the feathers wet nor too high for fear of the wax melting.

"I suppose it was some sort of lofty allegory for not becoming too content, nor for getting too full of oneself. Regardless, being a young male human, Icarus of course did not keep himself in check. He became so enamoured with the joy of flying he forgot to heed his father's words. He flew until he almost reached the sun and the wax began to melt. The wings fell apart and he plummeted to his death in the ocean below."

I paused to see if he would say something.

"Nice story."

"Not particularly and it's clearly untrue, although I suppose it does serve its purpose."

"And what is that, Mistress?"

"A warning to take care when you fly. Have you ever seen a plane, Jamie?"

He looked surprised at the change of subject and then annoyed with me again.

"No."

"Do you even know what a plane is?"