Heart of Ashes

The Fledgling

"Where are we going?" Donovan asked as he scrambled to keep up.

"Somewhere private," Caine answered.

"Well that doesn't sound creepy at all," he heard Donovan mutter, "please tell me where we're going."

"Somewhere private," Caine repeated.

Caine stopped outside a door with little man on the front. Next to it, was a door with a triangular humanoid figure that he assumed was meant to represent a woman.

"Inside," he ordered.

Donovan's eyes widened,"Umm..."

"Inside," he said again, "do I need to say everything twice with you?"

Donovan stepped into the men's bathroom and Caine followed him. There was an old man washing his hands at one of the basins. The room was white; the floor tiles were white, the wall tiles were white. Everything was white and it smelled like an awful combination of urine and bleach. Caine waited for the old man - who eyed him suspiciously - to leave before he put his things down and shoved Donovan into a stall. He kicked the door shut behind himself and locked it. The teen's eyes were wild with fear and he'd landed rather hard on the toilet.

His voice was high-pitched and panicked, "What are you..."

Caine pressed a leather clad finger to the boy's lips, "Ssh, relax."

He didn't relax. He tried to run past Caine but Caine grabbed him and held him in place while he sank his fangs into Donovan's throat and drained him. His blood had an odd taste. It didn't really taste much like anything and left Caine's throat feeling rather dry but he had a feeling that would change when Donovan woke up.

***

"Wh... what happened?" Donovan murmured as he came to on the train.

He turned to look at Caine and, immediately, his eyes flew open beyond their limits and he jumped back, into the lady next to him.

"Calm down, Mister West," Caine said reassuringly then looked to the woman behind him who seemed less than pleased at having been bumped, "I apologise, Madam, my son's been a bit jumpy lately."

Donovan looked at her apologetically then turned back to Caine and lowered his voice to a hiss-like whisper, "What the hell are you?"

Caine arched a brow, "I thought that was very blatant."

"You're a vampire," the boy pinched himself and established that he was not dreaming.

"No, Donovan," Caine corrected, "I am the vampire. I am Caine by the way."

"No way," Donovan stared in disbelief, "the legends are true."

"Unfortunately, and now we need to find some way of getting my blood in you."

"What?"

Caine shook his head, "The youth of today, so crude. Give me your hand."

Donovan held his hand out and Caine removed the glove on his left hand. He grew his claws and pressed them into his skin. Blood welled up around them and he gripped Donovan's hand to smear the blood on his palm. Donovan looked at his hand in disgust once Caine had his glove back on.

"Quickly now, before it dries," he advised.

Donovan raised his palm to his lips and dipped the tip of his tongue in it. He smiled, "Woah, your blood is..."

"Somewhat spicy?" Caine finished, "Yes, I know."

Donovan licked up the rest on his hand, "What now?"

"We find you a place for you to stay and you pledge to me."

"I what?"

"Pledge," Caine repeated, "when you transfer a piece of your past to me through your memories and you effectively belong to me but these days, that's considered improper so we just say you're under my authority."

"So, you want me to sell my soul in other words?"

"Good grief, no, your past not your soul."

"But why?"

Caine sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, "So you don't lose your bloody mind. There's a good reason for everything, you know?"

Donovan nodded, he seemed satisfied with that answer. He was one of the few that had every reacted that way when presented with one of Caine's answers. Most would get angry and shout at him, although Caine found it easier to tell the whole truth only when convenient because rather horrific things seemed to happen to people who knew his secrets; he felt that that had something to do with it.

"So I'm a real vampire now," Donovan sighed, "that is... awesome."

"No, you're not. You're a Fledgling," Caine hated to rain on his parade but it had to be done.

"What's that? Like a baby vampire?"

Caine's eyes widened; the thought of a baby vampire scared him. He shuddered as an image of the evil incarnate flickered across his thoughts, "No, Donovan, a baby vampire is a traumatizing concept that not even I desire to dwell upon. A Fledling is a newly turned vampire."

"So the vampire version of a baby?"

Caine tried to view things through Donovan's eyes and half succeeded, "Yes, I suppose so."

"So I'm the youngest?"

"As far as I'm aware."

Donovan clenched his fist and jerked it as a symbol of supposed achievement, "Wicked."

Caine rolled his eyes, "Bad things happen to young vampires who lose their way so when I deposited you at a hotel or something, you stay there until I come for you. Understand?"

"What if I get hungry?"

"You won't."

"Are you sure?"

"One hundred percent sure."

"Okay, because I think I trust you right now. I mean you kind of saved my life right there, so I guess I should thank you for that and also..."

"Donovan?"

"Yes, Master? Sir? What should I..."

"Donovan?"

"Yes?"

"Be silent, you are disturbing my bird."

As if to prove his point the glossy, black bird gave a loud squawk.

"Yes, Caine."

Caine remembered why vampires didn't make a habit of turning anyone under the age of twenty. They tended to be highly strung and excitable. Lillith had been different, she was calm and cool and understood what was going on. She had also never tried to do something ridiculous like calling him 'Master' either. He rested his head against the window behind him and listened to the rhythmic sound of the train on the tracks.