Bitten under the Mistletoe (The Vampire Genesis Chronicles) by Bronson Lara

Author:Bronson, Lara
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Tacit Press, LLC
Published: 2023-12-02T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 9

As we walked into the bedroom, I didn’t waste any time and asked: “Did you think about our discussion earlier. Do you have an answer for me?”

“I do,” she said, and I couldn’t contain my curiosity.

“Then tell me,” I said.

“I think the difference between you and the other Gabriel is that he…bit me,” she said, avoiding my gaze.

“What? He bit you?”

“A few times.” She still didn’t risk looking me in the eyes.

“Did he hurt you by doing so?” I asked.

“No, well…you see. When vampires bite, they release a special type of venom that makes their ‘victim’ more obedient.”

“I do not understand,” I said.

“Basically, if you bite me, I get high on you,” she rushed to blurt it out.

“High on me?”

“Why is it so complicated for me to explain things? Well, it’s like a temporary love spell. It heightens my senses and it makes everything feel good. Not just good, but good, good.”

“Good, good, huh?” Her words perplexed me. I still couldn’t get over the fact that my doppelgänger bit her. A dilemma Milady sensed.

“He did it to minimize the risk of me being swayed by other vampires. But since you’re the only one at the moment, there isn’t such a threat anymore.”

“I see,” I said, still contemplating the idea. “And your dreams could be fueled by those heightened state experiences?”

“I think so. Listen, I know you haven’t tasted human blood yet. But if there is someone who should be first. I think it should be me.”

“Here is where you are wrong. Given my lack of experience, I risk draining you too fast. And that is something I don’t particularly like to entertain.”

“You’ve had your fair share of animal blood. It cannot be that hard.”

“I simply cannot believe your dreams come from being bitten. There must be a different reason,” I said.

“If there is, I’m not sure which one.”

“Then you must think.” I grabbed her arms. I couldn’t accept the idea of having to choose between biting her or listening to her moan for another night.

“I’m not sure, Gabriel. But please do not despair,” she said, and I immediately released her.

“Who said I am desperate?” I turned away from her.

She stepped closer, kissed me on the cheek, and said, “I will find an answer. I promise.”

And I truly trusted her in that moment. I hoped this was but a misunderstanding that would soon be resolved.

Then night came. What use did my wife’s words have when her body writhed under the spell of an invisible enemy. Another sleepless night listening to her moans made my blood crack through my veins. I about had it. If she didn’t plan on doing something about it. Then, I had to take matters into my own hands.

∞∞∞

The following evening, our family stepped through the gates of the Stoica manor. In the common room, we discovered a dinner table so rich it could only compare to the castle feasts. Stacks of plates displayed a variety of meals from meats to other delicacies. Between them, there were pitchers filled with wine, placed next to a candle adorned with small pine wreaths.

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