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Rated: 18+ · Book · Fantasy · #1368937
Can a modern vampire accept himself for what he is?
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#558331 added January 1, 2008 at 9:02pm
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Chapter 3
Caterina’s place was a house in the heights. It was a dark gray thunderstorm, trimmed in snowy white. The front yard sported various colors of rhododendrons, fuchsia and other native northwestern wildflowers. They were bordered, ironically, by a white picket fence.

Caterina lead Kristof through a heavy, ornate maple door with a leaden stained-glass window in its top half.

At the flip of a switch by the door, the living area was revealed in soft pinkish light. “Grab a seat anywhere. I’ll get us some food going. Then I need to check the needlework the doctors did on your stomach.”

Kristof sunk down into a maroon colored couch overrunning with large pillows in various shades and patterns of blue, purple and pink and closed his eyes a bone-tiredness taking him over.

Kristof’s eyes shot open at the cool touch of Caterina’s hands as they deftly unzipped the thin nylon jacket he wore and began to remove the bandage that covered most of his lower abdomen. He must have dozed because he hadn’t even heard her walk up.

“Lie back on the couch so I can take a look at this.” Kristof complied, but propped himself up against the arm of the couch so he could look at the damage.

Caterina revealed a mass of evenly spaced staples covering puckering flesh in a path down the center of him. “This looks almost too good, considering you just had surgery a few hours ago. You’re still not in any pain?”

“No, should I be?”

“Most people would.”

“I guess I’m not most people.”

Caterina smiled her agreement. “Come on, let’s see if we can get some food down you.”

Kristof followed Caterina to a small hardwood table circled by four chairs similar to the ones in his office. The glow from two white tapers gave the polished wood a warm glow.

Two white bone china plates trimmed with a gold vine and leaf pattern sat on the table, a maroon linen napkin on each. A wine glass sat one inch above the longest tined fork to the right of the place about half-full of dark rich red liquid.

“Sit down, I’ll serve the steaks, I hope you like rare.”

Kristof took a seat. “I have no idea, but it smells great.”

“Nothing fancy, just some salt, pepper and garlic for seasoning. Salad is on the table already. Help yourself.”
“Do you think I should be drinking in my condition?”

“Haven’t you heard? Wine is good for your heart.” Caterina dropped a large hunk of meat onto Kristof’s plate from a meat fork. A pool of blood enriched juice seeped from under the steak to cover the plate.

Kristof’s breath caught in his chest as the burning ache inside returned. He clutched the wine glass and took a few quick gulps. The wine steadied him. He cut off a piece of steak and slid it into his mouth.

Kristof didn’t think the meat was going to stay down, but he kept chewing and swallowing the juice and eventually he was able to swallow the rest.

“Technically you should still be on a liquid or soft diet, but you appear to heal very quickly, so you should be able to tolerate solid food. Just don’t over do it, take small bites and sip a little wine between them.”

Kristof nodded and concentrated on following Caterina’s directions. He was able to eat half the steak and finish the wine.

“You don’t look so pale now. How do you feel?”

“I feel like I have a little more energy. Thank you for feeding me.”

Caterina smiled her tawny eyes unreadable. “That’s what I’m here for. Somebody’s got to take care of you. Now you need to rest. I’ll get you a blanket and you can sleep.”
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