* * *
Sitting at my oak desk while the rain drizzled outside, I tried to re-write all his notes. It was hard not to think about him while staring at his writing. It was elegant and flawless, unlike any writing, I’d seen; and it reminded me of someone who studied the art of writing. The script was too careful and it held on the point of age. No one in today’s society wrote like this. As I scribbled in my horrible writing on the trials, my eyes travelled to his book. I had the fan turned on it, drying it. It was less damp, and more papery. I bit my lip when I turned the cover, the corners turned up at the hidden damage they’d received. He’d know it had been wet, he’d know. And that meant he might hate me, and never talk to me. A part of me thought it best he didn’t talk to me; another part of me was bothered he wouldn’t. Taking care with the ruined notes, I squinted at the smudged words; trying to decipher what it was. A letter a, o or e—could be any.
This is ridiculous, I hissed in annoyance. Standing up fast, I bumped the table and the book slid from the top to the floor with a loud thud. Crushing pages to the carpet, and any chance of saving it from water damage was lost with the creased lines of its weight pressing on it. Great. Just great! I picked it up, trying to cool my emotions, which were doubling. I sat on my bed pressing my fingers to the crease of the page. It wouldn’t un-crease, nothing would. Now, I didn’t want to face him. Ruining his notes in the rain was one thing, but to destroy this old book was down right unforgivable.
I wanted to cry and the part that festered Melody whenever I was sad, spoke soothing words. “It’s not that bad Kerr … he’ll forgive you …” Her voice was a shadow. It wasn’t her voice anymore than it was mine, and since I hadn’t heard her voice in a three months, the tears were falling—onto the page. Damn it! I pressed my finger to the page, a little annoyed that the p was now ruined. But as I stared at the word, I was a shocked. Vampire. I shifted the book to take in the title of the paragraph.
Moroi and Dundine.
I puzzled the words which had no logic in my head. Were they ships?
Moroi and Dundine hold to the lore of life, none kill, only bite. Thus, the Moroi will not bother with the Dundine, but the Strigoi that roam the lands in a constant war, stealing, killing their bonds and taking their food without reason have made the war become impossible to avoid. The Moroi have used the elements to aid them, hunting them for many years, but still the Strigoi live. Their numbers outstretch all vampires in the world.
Was I reading this right? Moroi, Dundine and Strigoi were vampires? That was an odd thing to have in a book. I flipped the page and found several sections dictated to the kin.
All vampires live in groups. Either by a family name, as the Moroi live by. To be born into their line will give grace to your life, as Dundine, the subdued of all lives. While a Strigoi live by the Master and order of their sires. All kin in large numbers are known as a coven. The coven is usually held with a leader, one who calls him or her self Queen, King, for the Moroi. Or Master, for the Strigoi, father or mother for the Dundine, depending on the ranking of those around them. Most covens consist of five and ten members and each member is ranked by their ability to hunt, their skill of knowledge and craft. A vampire Master is said to be older than most common vampire. With age, the vampire will become powered by their kills, to drink and kill, aids their life and their power. A Master vampire is known for magical abilities such as shape shifting and force field power along with simple spells of attack, though usually it’s a combination of emulates and trinkets which have empowered him over the years.
The vampires, who live in the city, are usually Moroi and Strigoi; the two races will battle each other continually and with the Moroi’s guard constantly on the hunt, few Moroi will perish to the Strigoi wars. The Moroi are the voice of life, they live in the cities, owning the people for their food source. While the Strigoi live in the tunnels or abandoned houses of most poor residents. The Moroi hunt but don’t kill and offer their prey a pleasurable experience. Strigoi harm and lengthen the death of their victims; Dundine usually always trance their prey. Never taking them by force and they all have the ability to shift their forms into a predator—
I snapped the book shut.
It wasn’t normal reading material. This book spoke of vampires as if a common, everyday existence—as if they were here, still! My mind lingered to the dream I had on Monday night. The Nice One feeding off Stacy Gilbert—he was a vampire. Was it a dream or a connection? Had to be nothing but a coincident. Vampires are not real. This is not possible, and yet, if it was. Why wasn’t I scared?
I flipped the pages to find this book was written in the 1800’s, and it had been re-published seven times since its release. The last re-print was twenty years ago. That’s why it spoke as if of this time. But it couldn’t possibly be talking about the myth of vampires could it. I glanced to my table of damp notes that Ethan had given me. I glanced to the lap top beside his notes. I couldn’t possibly be thinking about researching this, could I? I bit my lip and tossed the idea away. No. I was dizzy from the rain this afternoon that’s all it was. This book was his, and I’d managed to destroy it with water, with tears, not to mention the creases from where it had fallen, I’d never get them out. And since Ethan shouldn’t talk to me, and he wouldn’t now that I had ruined his book. I closed the book, seeing that the crease was still evident in the pages. It didn’t shut properly. I wouldn’t be able to lie about it now, but it was better this way. Since he came into my life, I’d been nothing but aware, and now I needed to blend into the background, back into my fog; to the shadows I suited. I placed the book on the table and with a glance around the room; I figured I’d worry about it tomorrow. Flicking off my light, I turned in for the night and with a knowing thought that tomorrow, Ethan wouldn’t talk to me. Why that made fear rise inside, annoyed me.