To Bleed for Him

"Hold me,
Teach me,
Tell me what to do,
But I'm not looking for a guide.

I can't stand the light
Of the day outside,
Feeling so cold inside your shadow."
- Lacuna Coil

"You're terrible at fighting things, aren't you?" Antony remarked wryly the second Torryn's eyes fluttered open. He was propped up on his elbow beside her, his face and arms covered in blood and a dark bruise grinning at her from the side of his neck. She couldn't have been out for long if his wounds hadn't healed yet.

"Only when it comes to things I don't want to fight," she countered with a scowl. She started to sit up, but the sharp stinging of her neck quickly pulled her back down. "You weren't fighting anything too well yourself, either, ya know," she drawled, gingerly touching her neck. She felt fresh blood there, still oozing from the deep gashes, and she wondered just how bad it all looked. "You almost killed me."

He cringed, and when he spoke, his words were apologetic. "I kind of lost control. I'm not used to having so much power."

"What was up with that, anyway?" she asked, letting her hands fall to rest upon her stomach. "You didn't just lull me and get me where you wanted me; you actually told me what to do."

"With the pheromones?" he asked in return, his expression both startled and puzzled. "Or did I say something?"

"It was just the pheromones," she answered, looking down at her bloodied hands. "It was like they were giving me instructions. You seemed to like it when I did the work in missionary, so I kept doing it; you seemed like you wanted us to orgasm at the same time, so I held off until you were ready." She turned her gaze to him, her eyes wide in amazement. "I've never felt anything like that before. I've never felt like I was being controlled so much."

He groaned and rolled onto his back, an arm falling across his face to hide his eyes. "Does that mean we're moving backward, then? Are you getting less tolerant of pheromones?"

She shook her head and rolled onto her side, resting her hand on his blood-smeared stomach. How in the hell did that get there? she vaguely wondered, but quickly turned her attention to the boy's face. "I think it's just you I have a hard time fighting. No one has ever done that to me before, not even your dad."

He lifted his arm and grimaced at her. "So we're just lovey-dovey soul mates now, driven to insanity by each others' glistening abs and beautiful smiles? I almost wish you were just really susceptible to pheromones. At least then I wouldn't feel like I was playing Edmund in a Twilight novel."

"Edward, dear," she corrected him gently. "His name is Edward."

His mouth fell open, and he could only gape for a moment until he finally managed to point at the door and say seriously, "Get out."

"What?" she asked, confused, afraid that he meant it — and judging by the look in his eyes, he did.

"Get out of my house, you…you monster!" he cried, sitting up and leaving her hand to fall uselessly onto the bed where he'd been. He held his forefingers up in the shape of a cross and roared, "The power of Christ compels you!"

She sat up in spite of the piercing ache in her neck, her brow furrowed in worry. "What the hell are you doing, Antony?"

"The power of Christ compels you!" he yelled again, thrusting his crossed fingers at her. "The power of Christ —" A punch to the face sent him toppling backward off of the bed, and he grunted when he hit the floor. "What the hell was that for?" he asked, and she found him glaring at her when she crawled to the edge of the bed on her hands and knees.

"I'm sorry," she said, "but you were seriously weirding me out!"

"It was a joke, you dick," he said, sitting up and beginning to gently rub his jaw.

"Not a very funny one, asshole," she countered, rolling her eyes in annoyance.

"Yeah, the real joke here is that you know the name of the sparkle-dick from that horrid vampire series," he grumbled as he got to his feet, eyeing her warily.

"It's not like I'm a fan or anything," she said, crossing her arms and averting her gaze. "I just happened to have friends who read the novels. And it was a highly publicized series, ya know. It's weirder that you didn't know the name."

"I happen to have a penis, as I'm sure you've noticed," he said, plopping on the edge of the bed, still tenderly prodding his jaw as if she'd caused him some great hurt. "It's better that I didn't know the —" He broke off, putting a hand up to stop her from speaking even though she hadn't tried. "You know what? Let's not talk about this. Ever again." He dropped his arm and leaned closer to where she sat on her knees in the center of the bed, his eyes on her neck. "Are you all right? You're not lightheaded or nauseas or anything, are you?"

"No," she said with a shake of her head. "I'm fine. Just desperately in need of a shower now that I've been mauled, really." She let her eyes drift along his bloody body and over his frowning face, stopping at his tired eyes. "You should go back to bed. After the night you had, there's no possible way that you've gotten enough rest already."

"And what about the night you've had?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow. "If I'm recalling correctly, yours was much worse than mine."

She shook her head and slid off of the bed, finding the floor to be disarmingly cool beneath her bare feet. "Honestly, I'm completely fine, Antony. You need to stop worrying about me so much and start focusing on yourself."

He sighed, his eyes suddenly dull and resigned. "Look, Torryn, I think we need to talk."

Fear pulsed through her at the dreaded phrase, but she did her best to remain calm and composed. "Oh? What about?"

He stood and made his way around the bed, coming to stand before her, frowning down at her. "Do you remember that time, in the shower at Will's house?"

She immediately knew where he was going with this, immediately remembered what he'd said just before Caesar had come bursting into the bathroom, but she dropped her gaze to the floor and said simply, "No."

"I know you do," he said, but when she looked up, his eyes were hesitant. "At least, I hope you do." He let out a soft, nervous laugh and added, "I'll be a little offended if you don't."

"Antony…" But she trailed off, unsure of what more to say. She didn't want to talk about it; she didn't even want to think about it. But why? Even she didn't know.

"I said I loved you," he blurted, staring earnestly into her eyes. He moved just a bit closer to her and laced his fingers in hers, the usually pleasant coolness if his skin pure agony in this moment. "I know you remember it."

"I do," she said, dropping her eyes to the floor once more. She didn't like the way he was looking at her; she didn't like what he seemed to be expecting from her. "What about it?"

"Why are you doing this?" he asked in a groan of exasperation. "We haven't talked about it since it happened. Why?"

"It's not like you to talk about emotions so openly," she said, though she still wouldn't look at him. "Why are we doing this now?"

"Do you not love me?" he asked, his voice completely empty of feeling, and when she finally met his gaze, his expression was guarded.

"It's not that," she said quickly. "It's just…I…"

"It's because I'm an undead now, isn't it?" There was still nothing to his voice, nothing to his eyes, and she shifted uncomfortably beneath his stony gaze. "If you don't feel like that toward me anymore, just say so. We can have your things packed and ready to go by sunset, and I'll take you wherever you want to go."

She glared up at him. "I told you, it's not like that."

"Then what's the problem?" he asked, a hint of frustration creeping into his voice.

For a moment, she could only continue to scowl at him — what was the problem? She did feel that way toward him. She'd thought that much was obvious. But there was just something so wrong about saying it…

"You're not Skylar," she finally said, suddenly and flatly. "You're the guy I cheated on him with."

"I…I don't understand." And the look in his eyes, the uncertainty to his voice, everything told her that he really didn't.

"It'd be wrong to say to you what I said to Skylar for so long," she said softly, gazing pleadingly into his eyes. She didn't mean to hurt him with this, but she knew that she would. "You're the reason I don't say it to him anymore. It just…It isn't fair."

"If you love me, it's not wrong to say so," he said, a sudden fierceness to his tone that rendered her momentarily speechless. "Even if it came from unfortunate circumstances, love is love."

She lowered her gaze, now staring at his muscled chest guiltily. "Why did you even bring this up, anyway? I told you that you needed to worry about yourself instead of me."

"I'm trying to explain to you why I can't worry about myself instead of you," he said, tugging her closer until their bodies touched, his fingers still laced in hers. She looked up at him now, having no other choice. "If you want me to be able to sleep and take care of myself, tell me you love me."

"Trying to force it out of me with an abuser's tactic," she drawled, lip curled, but it was all a front, a show. His words stung. "'If you really loved me, you'd do what I told you.' How charming."

He sighed, exasperated. "I'm sorry," he said, but it wasn't like him to apologize so easily, and it made her even more uncomfortable. "Just…Do you love me? Yes or no?"

"Of course I do," she said with a soft sigh of her own. "That's why I don't understand why we're even having this conversation."

A smile curved his lips, and thanks to weeks of practice, it almost looked real. "Good enough. You can say it when you're ready," he murmured, pressing his forehead to hers and staring deeply into her eyes. "I won't try to pressure you again."

She smiled gently, but it was just another front. She was still shaken. "Thank you, Antony." She slipped her fingers from his and gave his chest a rough shove, knocking him back onto the bed easily, though she knew as well as he did that she'd only managed it because he'd let her. "Now, get some sleep. I'm going to get cleaned up, then find something to do."

"Like what?" he asked as she turned from him, starting toward the bathroom while poking at the dried blood on either side of her neck.

"I don't know yet," she answered. "I'll think of something." And with that, she closed the door.

-?-

Torryn's eyes skimmed the kitchen and the hall across from her as she swallowed the second bite of her peanut butter and jelly sandwich. The house was eerily silent, unoccupied by a single one of the undead souls that had so densely populated it only hours ago, and she wondered whether she liked it more or less this way. It was nice not having to fear antagonism at every turn, but she wasn't sure she liked the feeling that something big and scary was going to pop out and yell, "Boo!" at any given moment.

Paranoia, she thought bitterly, taking another bite out of her sandwich. Ain't it grand?

She swallowed and sighed, her gaze on the front door growing unfocused as she let her mind wander. Her life wasn't going at all like she'd hoped. She was supposed to move in with Antony, leave her bitch of a mother behind, enjoy a good fight in the Arena every now and again, eventually go to school and figure out what the hell she wanted to do with her life. But instead, here she was, tangled in a web of pure fuckery — her mother had been lying to her for years about what she was and she wasn't nearly the cold bitch Torryn had thought, some mysterious vampire wanted her dead and Antony long gone, Skylar was getting her feelings all twisted again, Antony was in love with her and undead and it all scared her to death, and she honestly wasn't sure if she would even be alive by the time college rolled around. Where did she start unraveling this mess? Did she even try? Or did she just deal with it all as it came?

God, Antony. She did love him — more than he realized, it seemed. But she loved Skylar, too, and she wasn't sure if she'd ever shake the feeling. Should she have just said it to Antony, her feelings for Skylar be damned? These days, the vampire could die at any second, at the hands of any one of the skeevy undead punks who claimed to follow him. What if he was taken out before she got to say it to him? Would she be able to live with herself, beyond the crushing pain that losing him would undoubtedly cause and beyond the regret that never saying those words might bring?

She absently took another bite of her sandwich and slowly chewed. No, he wouldn't be dying any time soon. She wouldn't let him. And she would tell him she loved him the second she was ready, and he wouldn't be allowed to die for decades — no, centuries after she told him. She would make sure he was taken care of when she finally died. Somehow. Some way.

She swallowed and took yet another bite. What was the life span of a Progeny, anyway? What was the life span of a half-Progeny? How did she not know these things?

"And what do we have here?" an airy voice cooed suddenly from behind her, and she flew into a fit of coughing as she nearly choked on her mouthful of food. She spun to face the source of the words and found herself nose to nose with none other than Antony's mother, smiling broadly with a dreamy haze mystifying her blue eyes. "I see Antony's left you all alone again," she went on, her fingers tiptoeing their way up one of Torryn's arms, across her shoulders, and down the other as the woman circled her. "What a silly boy he is, leaving such a prime meal out here for anyone to eat."

"Shouldn't you be asleep?" Torryn blurted as she dropped her sandwich onto its plate, unsure of what else to say. The woman stopped beside her, leaning against the counter but still much too close, and for an instant, she considered screaming her head off and trying to run.

"Oh, I should," she said absently, watching her own fingers as they tiptoed another slow trail up Torryn's arm. Her hands stopped at the girl's shoulder, and she looked toward her face with a wicked grin. "But I had a feeling you'd be wandering around unsupervised, my little pet, and how could I let such a sweet opportunity slip through my fingers?" Torryn was suddenly pinned against the counter, the woman's cold body pressed against hers and her fangs bared in a gleeful grin. "You don't think Antony will mind, do you? I just want a little taste."

"I don't think he'll like it very much," Torryn said awkwardly, trying to squirm her way out from beneath the woman, but to no avail; a slender, veiny arm to either side of her body kept her in place.

"Just as he didn't like someone attempting to kill you?" she asked in a whisper, the tip of her nose grazing Torryn's throat as she bent her head to take in the girl's scent. "He'll never figure out who it was, though," she murmured, tilting her head to bury her face in the opposite side of Torryn's neck. The girl shuddered but said nothing. It sounded like the woman knew something about the hit, and she was bound to let something slip. "He's never been good at seeing what's right in front of him. I was surprised when he finally laid claim to you after letting you languish without him for so long."

"Do you…Do you know who ordered the hit?" Torryn asked carefully, hoping not to spook the woman with her question.

"Of course I do," she answered with a dreamy sigh, and her tongue flicked out to slide languidly along Torryn's skin. The girl shivered again, but still didn't dare speak or struggle. "I know everything that goes on in this house. No one realizes that I'm everywhere, watching them, listening to them, just waiting for them to let some juicy tidbit slip." She threw her head back and let loose a cackle. "They never notice me even when I'm right in front of them!"

"Will you…tell me what you know?" Torryn asked, and the woman's laughter immediately ceased, her head dropping to put her at eye level with the girl. She didn't look pleased.

"I don't give anything away for free, my pretty pet," she said lowly, and Torryn tensed. "If you want the name, you're going to have to give me something I want."

"And…And what is it that you want, exactly?" Torryn stammered, not looking forward to the answer.

A smile spread across the woman's pale face, wide and cruel. "You know what I want, silly girl. And I want it without making Antony angry at his dear old mummy." She dropped her face to Torryn's neck again, breathing deeply to take in the aroma of her skin once more. "If you give it to me willingly, he can't be too angry, now, can he?"

"No," Torryn snapped, trying to wriggle out of the woman's grip and failing all over again. "I'm not letting you bite me."

The woman pressed her body harder against Torryn's, smirking as she stared deeply into the girl's eyes. "Come, dear," she purred. "It won't be that bad. Just a little nibble, then you get the information that will put both your mind and the mind of our dearest Antony to rest. Oh, and you'll get justice, too; you'll get your vengeance for a sleepless night and a day lived in fear." Her smile grew, baring her fangs with a wicked glint, and she murmured, "Wouldn't that be worth it? Just a little nibble, dear. Just a little nibble…"

Torryn shook her head numbly. "I can't. I won't. Antony won't like it, even if I do give it to you willingly." But the truth was, she wouldn't like it, either. This woman was the last vampire on Earth she wanted getting a taste of her blood. Crazy, cruel, and generally uninhibited — what would stop her from taking a bite whenever she wanted if she found that she liked it? No, she was more afraid of this woman than she was of another possible attempt on her life. But…what about Antony?

"Then I'd be more than happy to take a bite without your consent," the woman purred, leaning down to place a gentle kiss on the side of the girl's throat. "I'm getting your blood today, my pet, whether it angers Antony or not. It's up to you just how much trouble we'll both have to go through for it."

Torryn swallowed, her breath hitching as she tried to inhale. "I…I…" She what? She was too scared of this woman to get a piece of potentially life-saving information from her? She was going to be bitten today, whether she learned what she wanted to know or not, whether it would be in a way that Antony might not be so averse to or not. There was no reason to argue. "I…I'll do it," she finally said, swallowing again as her mouth went dry. "Tell me who ordered the hit, and I'll let you feed from me."

The woman chuckled lowly, her smirk teasing. "And risk you struggling and escaping before I get the chance to enjoy my half of the bargain? Of course not. Hold still, my pet, and all will soon be revealed." And with that, she sank her fangs deep into Torryn's throat.