9. The Songbird

Events of the previous day have exhausted me more than I thought they would because I sleep in. It is mentally taxing to constantly look inside yourself for your past and find it empty. I dress in leggings and an oversized sweater that hangs off one of my shoulders, revealing the strap of the tank top I wear underneath. I pull my hair back into a half ponytail, letting the back cascade down my shoulders. It would be out of the way like this, but still down. I don’t bother with makeup tonight. I’m not good at it. Charlee will be coming back this evening, though, and I look forward to letting her doll me up again.

Oz had left me earlier, kissing my temple and telling me to keep sleeping if I wish. I appreciate the extra rest. Physically I feel like I can do anything, but mentally and emotionally, I am spent.

The lake had been terrifying.

And I am nowhere close to remembering my past.

According to Rolando, while there isn’t anything he can do for my phone itself, he may be able to pull some data off the SIM card. They can be damaged by water, but not as severely as the general electric components of the phone itself. It is a long shot, but if he can do it, I may be able to recover things like my contacts and text messages. Those can certainly help in my journey to discovering myself and my memories.

Nerves worm into me as I examine my things from the cabin, touching each one gently and willing it to give me something. Anything. Any damn clue as to who I am. They all lay there, unable to provide me with what I want. I frown and shake my head, deciding to try again later.

Downstairs is starting to get lively as the guys all gather. That must mean Charlee is getting close. The parched feeling is in my throat again. Hungry. Thirsty. It’s all the same. I join them in waiting.

“How goes it, new girl?” One of the triplets, I think Alex, asked. They may not be identical, but they seem pretty freaking close to me.

“It goes…” I sigh. “I still can’t remember anything before I woke up like this,” gesturing to myself.

I can see the uneasy frowns among my new family. This must be incredibly unusual if it causes them distress.

Zach rests a hand on my shoulder. “I’m sure it will come back. And if not, Leland can probably help you.” Mutterings of agreement surround us.

Leland.

They speak of him with such reverence, such admiration. Is it simply because he is their creator? I doubt it. He must be an awe-inspiring leader to garnish this much loyalty and respect.

The doors open, Oz walks in with Rolando and a handful of humans trailing behind them, and Charlee brings up the rear. Every human is compelled to be here. Charlee had literally grabbed us all a bite. Oz grins as he greets his brothers before standing at my side. Kissing my lips gently, I can feel him breathing me in. Charlee smirks at me and shares a knowing look with Rolando.

Great.

They’ve probably been taking bets on how long it would take before I could knock through Oz’s good guy routine and get him to let go a little.

“Did you sleep well?” He asks.

The concerned look on his face from last night is gone. He seems content that I have recovered from the whole lake debacle. I try to remember if I had any dreams, but nothing comes to mind. I don’t remember even seeing the faces. “Probably the best sleep since I turned,” I admit. “No nightmares,” I whisper just for him.

“Good, I’m glad.” He is so calm all the time, I’m a little jealous of it.

“Well, this will be one hell of a party!” Charlee strides over quickly and pulls me into a hug. My stiff form relaxes in her arms and I grin, squeezing her back. “I’m so glad that things seem to be going well now that you two are ma-” She pauses briefly, and I catch the look Oz throws at her. “-making headway in your relationship.” Charlee is quick on her feet, I’ll give her that. However, I am quick too, and Oz doesn’t want to look me in the eye again.

There is something they still aren’t telling me. I try to shrug it off. If they are keeping something on the down low, knowing Oz, it is for some noble or honorable reason. I choose to let it go for now.

“I’m happy I get to be here for your first time drinking from a human,” Charlee says as releases me. I watch everyone else circle the humans, picking who they want. “We have a fresh supply of donated blood too, but something about drinking directly from someone is just better. You know, farm to table and all that.”

I snort. The thought of directly sourcing blood is entertaining. There are enough humans here that we could each have one to ourselves. That gnawing sensation in my gut is back, my nerves flaring to life and anxiety taking hold of me.

Charlee must’ve picked hers on the way here because she possessively pulls a female human from the group. “Mine.” She grumbles at Chandra before turning and winking at me. She leads her human away. I look to Oz, unsure of what to do.

Oz guides me toward the humans who are standing there, unmoving. Lights are on in their faces, but no one is home. It’s eerie, seeing them as shells of themselves. “Study them, smell them, and if biting them would please you, then you know you’ve picked a good one.”

Excuse me, smell them?

This is kind of gross.

“How do I know if biting them will please me?” This all sounds simple, but I still don’t know what he means.

Noting my confusion, he walks behind a human and inhales deeply, demonstrating. “Their scent will stir your thirst.”

Okay…

I can feel his eyes on me as I select. I pass a woman who looks like she could be a teacher. She didn’t smell any special kind of way. A man in a suit with his hair slicked back. He smells disgusting to me. No idea what that means. Then finally, a man in his mid-twenties, whose smell tingles the back of my throat. I look him over. He is average in every single way imaginable. Not unattractive but not particularly good-looking. I stare into his brown eyes. They are far away, unseeing. “This one,” I tell Oz. I tug the human’s hand, imitating Charlee, and lead him to the living room.

Oz follows behind with his selection, another young man, but this one looks like he just stepped off the military bus. He sits on the couch and pulls his human to it. The man sat willingly. “This is the part where you decide how you want to drink. Some people prefer wrists, others necks, and some find the femoral artery is one that they particularly enjoy.” He stares pointedly at Charlee in the corner. I follow the direction of his eyes and raise my eyebrows. Charlee has pulled the pants off her human and latched her lips to her thigh. By the look on the woman’s face, it is quite enjoyable to be fed from that particular location.

I make a note of it for a later time.

Oz laughs at my expression. “The neck is traditional,” he says softly. “To the casual observer, you could be kissing, and it’s the easiest start for most new vampires.”

The neck. Not in my five days of memory have I ever found a neck so imposing. Usually, when I picture necks, it comes with an image of Oz kissing mine.

I look at the man’s jugular and take a deep breath. I get a strong sense to feed from there. The raw and primal part of me is awakening, and she is thrilled by being allowed to feed from a living being instead of a blood bag.

“Neck it is,” I said.

Oz pulls his lips back from his teeth and raises his human’s wrist to his mouth. He slowly sinks his teeth down, and I watch as they penetrate through effortlessly. I don’t need to know the science, I just need to do it.

Sitting beside him, his neck is at an awkward angle. I look around, everyone is feeding now, and they are family, nothing to be embarrassed about, right? I swing my leg over and straddle my human. I can feel his heart beating in his chest as I press closer. I rest my mouth against his neck and felt his pulse. Pulling my lips back like Oz had done, I gingerly bear down with my teeth.

A warm gush of blood is my reward. My lips acting like a seal against his skin as I drink. He tastes good. A moan escapes me as I savor the taste, my eyes rolling back into my head. I grip my human’s waist tightly. His blood is delicious, flavored with something I couldn’t put my finger on.

Desire?

Fear?

Do emotions flavor humans like wine?

Oh, what a delicious wine he is, pouring into my mouth hot and thick. I have chosen a very juicy spot, indeed. I pull from him what I need, what will sustain me. Closing my eyes, I can feel the rawness of the blood lust slithering into me, wanting me to drain the very last drop out of him.

The other Wren whispers sweet promises of what could be if I let go. If I let her in.

Surrender control.

She is seductive and compelling, and it would be oh-so-easy to step aside and let her in. I don’t want to. This is my body, my mind, not hers.

You don’t belong here. I do.

She’s lying. We are supposed to be one. I belong here as much as she does.

Almost as if she is pacing a cage, I feel her desperation to rise to the surface, to be released. She whispers more to me. Promises of pleasure, swearing how much easier it will be for us if we rely on her instincts.

My brows knit together as I feed. The war inside my mind is something only I can be aware of. I didn’t know how to fight her off.

Don’t fight me.

She’s insisting.

Suddenly, it hurts. It’s like a sharp pain digs into my skull. The other Wren is taking her fingers and clawing her way into me. I don’t want it, and I don’t trust her. I want nothing more than for her to get away from me. The effort forces the part of myself that is me, my consciousness, my sense of self, further into the recesses of my mind. I don’t want her touching me at all. The darkness, the wild abandonment of reason. No, it can stay far away from me.

Suits me just fine.

I realize too late that she is making a play to control my body. I feel her slink her way into the mechanics of my nervous system. Everything I am is now hers to command. I struggle to stop her, to force my way back in. No use, it was over the moment she had her claws in me.

I feel as she pulls harder.

I can see what’s happening, but I am powerless to stop it.

I see my arms grip tight onto the human.

I feel when drinking turns to ripping.

Shredding.

Oz is behind me, trying to pull me off. Rolando had his hands on the man, trying to get him out of my grasp.

MINE.

I drink his blood and continue to tear at his throat. The arms trying to pull me from him are nothing.

Screeching as I devour him.

I can”t hear. I can’t see. The only thing that exists is hunger and my prey.

I don’t release him until his heart stops beating.

Rising to my feet, I stare at my handiwork. A sickening wave of satisfaction washes over me, and in an instant, the other Wren is gone. Retreating back inside of me where she came from, I am left to pick up the pieces of her destruction.

I freeze in place, staring at nothing.

A flutter of activity surrounds me. The triplets take my victim’s body from the room and bring it outside. I can hear the clanking of wood being brought together, the sound of something liquid spraying, and then the whoosh of flames as the fire licks his corpse.

Rolando and Charlee set to work removing the blood from the couch.

Hands cup my face, and I don’t know how long they’ve been there. Oz is trying to get my attention. He blocks my view of the distant corner I am staring at.

“WREN!”

Oz is shouting at me?

He never shouts.

Yet he is shaking me by the shoulders, trying desperately to pull me out of my stupor. “Are you alright? Wren!”

He comes into focus, and I see the relief in his eyes as mine find him. “I can’t believe I killed him,” I whisper. Oz crushes me to him, not caring that I stain his clothes with blood.

I can feel him stroke my hair, telling me everything will be okay. “You didn’t mean it,” he excuses.

I had meant it. Well, the other Wren had anyway.

“You’re new to this,” he pushes my actions aside.

I still killed a man.

“It was an accident,” his voice is hushed.

I shove Oz away from me. I don’t believe him. I murdered an innocent man, and he is just so fucking calm about it.

Unable to look at him, or anyone else for that matter, I run upstairs to the bathroom and then lock myself in. I run the hot water in the shower as I scrub the dead man’s blood and torn bits of flesh from my body.

I am sickened with myself. Looking in the mirror, I don’t recognize who I am. The voice, the one inside me that stirred when I was feeding. Is she the one that I am supposed to merge with? She is murderous. She’s led me to take a human life, and she will lead me to take more, I am certain. I absolutely do not want to merge with that.

You have no choice. You will accept me.

“Shut up,” I say aloud to my reflection. “Shut up and leave me alone. This is my body, my life, and I won’t let you cause chaos and destruction.” The other Wren quiets down. I stare at myself into my own eyes, and even though she’s backed down for now, I can still see the flash of her that screams danger.

Opening the door, I’m not surprised to see Oz waiting for me.

Of course, he is.

I am in pain, and whenever something is wrong with his little bird, he is there to care for me. I both love and hate him for it in this moment.

Saying nothing but still longing for his comfort, I ease myself into his lap. He accepts me willingly, cradling me to his chest in silence. I tighten the grip on the towel around my body, not wanting to make this any more awkward than it already is. I let him shift us so I am lying on the bed. He rests his head on my stomach and keeps it there. Without thinking, my hands begin playing with his hair, which feels soothing.

“We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” he starts, and I stiffen. “I just want you to know that all new vampires struggle with this, and you are not the first person in this house to make that same mistake.”

He doesn’t understand…

“I let her in. The other Wren, the one that I am supposed to merge with.” I bite my lower lip. I didn’t know how to explain this. I raise my hands to rub my temples and close my eyes. “She asked for control, and I fought it, but she took it anyway, and then she used me to kill.”

Oz sits up this time. “Wren, this wasn’t your fault. Your mind should have been healed during the turning. You should have become one entity, and that would give you a measure of control. When we can fix those things, it will get easier, I know.”

He seems so confident, but I am still unsure. I don’t say anything. I just lean back into the pillows and turn on my side, away from him. What if I can’t do it? What if I can’t merge, and I kill people every time I try to feed? Will my family have to stop me? There is only so much murder they can allow before suspicion might point in this direction. Our family will be in danger if I don”t fix this. Will they end me?

No.

Oz will never let that happen, I’m sure of it.

Will we run off together?

Destruction and death left behind in our wake?

A sure arm wraps around my waist, pulling me into the curve of his body. Protecting me, keeping me safe from whatever troubles are out there. I wish he could save me from myself. I wiggle and press my body into his, taking in his warmth. He strokes my bare arm gently, and soft kisses sweep across my shoulder.

“We can try again,” he tells me in a whisper. “When you’re ready.”

I fall asleep with Oz holding me, but his presence isn’t enough to stave off the nightmares this time.