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gracevilliers · 6 years

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Blood of my blood, Part 2 || Grace & Yamina

Yamina woke up first, if only because she was attuned to this. As a human she always woke up when dawn broke; as a vampire she habitually woke at dusk. She opened her eyes to find the Huntress - the Huntress no more still cradled against her chest. The blonde creature looked pale, paler than usual when she'd been mortal. A pang of sorrow and grief shot through Yamina's tired frame as she stroked her fledgling. All the pain and grief she'd felt losing her other children now poured directly into this one. Her new child. And Yamina realized then as she touched the golden hair that Grace Villiers was not just her only child now, but she would be her last. No more progeny after this one. Yamina would dedicate the rest of her immortal life doting on Grace and Grace alone.

Yamina In one way it was still partly revenge. To give this ex-Hunter everything a vampire had to offer as her Sire. To treat her with the utmost attention and groom her to become a perfect specimen of vampirism. To make her Hunter family and everyone who knew Grace for her vampire-slaughtering skills and tracking abilities, feel grief and mourning. Because in their human eyes, Grace Villiers the proud Hunter, was now an abomination. A beast who needed to be put down. Nothing more than the monsters she took pride in killing. Now she was the one they had to kill. Yamina hoped it would shatter their miserable, wretched beating hearts.

There was a knock on the bedroom door and a skinny old man entered, pausing in shock at the damage in the bedroom, at Yamina out of her coffin and holding an Englishwoman. "Mistress, is everything alright?" the thrall asked, bowing and servile in his concern. Yamina nodded. "Yes boy," she replied, although the man was almost 65. "Did you bring food?" The old man nodded and dry-washed his hands, scampering back out and returning with three different people, all tied and blindfolded and scared. One was a young woman from the Far East; the other a teenaged boy; the third was a burly pale red-headed man. Yamina looked at them and the pointed one finger towards the adult man. "Him. Is he from one of the prison ships?" The thrall nodded proudly, knowing he'd chosen well when Yamina smiled. "Leave him and return the others. My child will be waking up soon."

It felt like awakening from a dream. Slow and groggy, the world coming into view around Grace with a dim greyness. Her body ached, though in her barely conscious state, she couldn't consciously understand the reasons for it just yet. Half from the battle, and half from her transition. She was heavy-eyed and heavy-souled, as if her body carried the weight of what had been done to her before her mind could piece it together. Grace awoke, limbs languid and stiff, but immediately taut and tense when she realized someone was holding her. How ironic that such gentle and loving hands should have done such violence to her. She struggled, pulling away and scrambling to her feet. The room stank, she realized, her enhanced, starving senses picking him out. Like human. "What the bloody hell did you do to me?" Grace spat, knowing the answer before the words had even left her lips.

Yamina rose gracefully and seemingly with a lack of effort (although it did take some effort). "I think you know, Grace," Yamina replied. She straightened her gown and went to pick up her coat, pulling it on as if to shield herself from the mortal environment around her. "You're weak, my dear, but I admire your strength nonetheless. Are you hungry?" Yamina was sure Grace was starving. As a fledgling, hunger was a sensation that usually overtook everything else, consumed a vampire until they learned to control those baser instincts. With a good Sire of course, someone who could teach them to temper those uncontrollable impulses. "Do you smell him? Not the stink of his skin, but the blood underneath. Can you hear his heart?" She motioned languidly to the burly man, who was trying to break out of his bonds. "Wot's that then? Just a couple of whores trying to scare me then? I'll give ye something to be scared of, girls," the man growled, neck flexing.

Grace had never felt so many sensations before. The very air around her seemed to be a living thing. She could hear every movement, every rustling piece of fabric on the wind outside, every voice from surrounding patrons of the nearby marketplace, the rustling of coin in someone's pocket, and yes, the heartbeat, so loud that it overtook almost everything else. Where were her weapons? She glanced around for them, but the vampire must have disposed of them before Grace had collapsed. "I... I'm going to be sick," she answered, her physical hunger, her desperation, her need for blood, all at war with everything she had ever been taught, with her own disgust. "I'll kill you for this."

"You may," Yamina replied with a sad smile as she watched Grace with calm for careful eyes. She couldn't help the smile turning a little piqued at Grace completely ignoring the human. No concern for the man just yet, not while she was fully consumed in her own throes of agony and dilemma. "Or you may learn to accept it. Only the weak-willed cannot handle this gift. Only the weak-willed throw this gift away, like an unthinking fool. I do not think you are foolish, my child." The blindfolded man was clearly agitated by being completely ignored despite his leers and threats and he managed to shift his blindfold up past one eye, to see the two women. "Ey girlie," he tried to cajole Grace. "Why don't you get of yer lil negress servant here and let's you and me have some real fun, ey?"

Grace was even more annoyed by the vampire's calm and careful tone, the way she addressed Grace so simply and plainly, not even rising to agitation. She could at least have fought with her, argued with her, instead of simply reasoning with her like a sensible human. For a sensible human she was not. "Shut up, shut up," she hissed, repeating the words, trying to ignore her pounding senses, the sickening desire in her to feed. "I'm neither weak nor a fool, but I won't be a monster, either!" The ugly man was addressing her with ugly words. Grace scoffed. The more he spoke, the harder it was for her to ignore the pounding of his heart, the warm red liquid that flowed through his body. Did he really think she was in the mood to be flirted with? "Shut. Up." She repeated, snarling almost in spite of herself, grabbing him by the throat and squeezing.

"No, you are not a monster. You are so much more than that," Yamina said, all low and honeyed words. She was hungry herself, but like all good mothers she wanted her child to eat first before she'd take a single sip. "I understand what it must be like, to be trained as a Hunter. Born into it, told over and over that your cause was right, and your enemy was wrong. No questions meant no faltering. You were righteous; after all, your elders taught you this. Why should you ever wonder if your actions were wrong?" Yamina crossed to the other side of the room, giving Grace a wide berth to explore her own overload of senses and emotions freely. "That is not true strength, my dear. That is zealotry hiding behind violence." Yamina raised her chin, eyes flaring in some contained excitement as Grace turned on the man finally and acknowledged his presence with a threat of her own. The man looked confused and surprised. "A criminal, scum no doubt." Yamina came closer, turned the man's head to look at her. The vampire's eyes turned golden, mesmerizing. "Tell me boy - what was your crime?" Compelled to answer, the man replied, "I - I killed me wife. And me little girl. The screamin'...the screamin'...I liked it." Yamina stared coldly at him and then at Grace. "And this is what you used to protect? From me?"

Grace squeezed her eyes closed. She knew it was dark, and yet it didn't feel dark to her, an enhanced nocturnal vision disorientating her. She felt like she could no longer tell night from day. She shook her head. The words falling from her sire's lips were the words of the devil, she told herself. "Liar," she hissed. "You feed and you kill and you want me to do the same." But she wanted it too. The warmth of his skin was too much for her to handle. Grace wet her lips with her tongue. Her fingertips buried in his skin made her all the more conscious of his flesh, his blood. "You're disgusting," she said, unsure whether she was talking to him, the vampire, or herself. Perhaps it was all three. He was a killer. So why shouldn't she just sink her teeth into him? The very thought itself was the only encouragement she needed, and she slammed him against one of the very walls she had been thrown against just hours before, sinking her teeth into him and devouring him.

Yamina had nothing to say as Grace refuted her, tried desperately to hold on to that morality of the Hunters. Their code and their scripture and their belief, it was strong. It was admirable, really, if Yamina hadn't just had her children slaughtered by them like cattle. The man's way to handle this would be to break Grace down and build her back up, but Yamina Moire had rejected man's methods a long time ago. It was what made her so strong in the Vampire Councils across the continent - yet at the same time, it had made her vulnerable to the other vampire's fears and jealousy. Like scrabbling rats, just as Hunters described them. Just because she believed in the old ways did not mean she would adhere to the methodologies of men. Grace was her baby - and compassion for her children was always Yamina's way. Even if she'd hated Grace as a human, she felt that intrinsic Progeny-Sire bond forming between them now. Now, as Grace slammed the human filth against the wall and sank her teeth into his neck. "One bite now," Yamina coaxed her. "Try to get one good bite, and the blood will flow." As Grace drank though, Yamina picked up the man's wrist and bit into it as well. For as much as she loved her newborn daughter, the elder vampire knew she couldn't stay weak while Grace grew strong. To make that mistake would spell her doom. She fully believed Grace would attack her next.

Grace felt a wave of relief wash over her new body as the blood flowed into her. Her brain was less foggy, her muscles less achy, her skin clearer. The smell was intoxicating. She drank and drank and drank, listening to the soothing sounds of her sire's encouragement and for a moment, not even able to be angry about it or disgusted by it. She simply drank until the blood flowed no more and the man fell dead to the ground, like the wife and daughter he had put there. Yamina had been drinking too. She looked almost proud. Something in Grace was happy about that, their instinsic fond forming in spite of Grace's prior feelings. The contradictions melded together. "....What do you do with the body?" Grace wondered out loud.

Yamina gave a languid flick of her hand. "I have thralls to take care of that, they're very useful. Humans who want to be in the presence of vampires, entranced by is, by our beauty...." She came closer, motioned to a standing mirror so Grace could see herself. She was always stately and beautiful but now as a vampire and just fed, she was practically glowing, a preturnatural beauty. "It's a low-level compelling that keeps them loyal, all of it agreed upon. Some people are made to serve. Others, to enjoy the fruits of their labour." It was a very old-fashioned concept, that only recently in history was being questioned in the name of civility. But Yamina was old-fashioned in her ways. "My dear I must say, you aren't just my progeny, but you're also a prodigy. I've never had a child so controlled, so self-disciplined." Yamina supposed it was all that Hunter training.

Grace furrowed her brow. Thralls. The thought left distaste in her mouth. Too bad that distaste was overpowered by blood. She'd never drank something so delicious in all her life. And she hated herself for it. She'd just killed someone. She'd killed a killer. Why was it so different now? She told herself she killed murderers every time she went hunting. "You call this control?" She scoffed, regarding the body on the floor and gesturing to it. "He's dead. If that's what passes for discipline to you, I'd hate to see chaos."

"You would hate to see the chaos. Don't be a prude, child. Somehow I don't buy it. You've seen far too much to pretend you don't understand chaos, haven't stared it down and refused to accept it. I see it now, in the way you feed." Because Yamina had seen worse, far worse. Fledglings that were little more than rabid animals, tearing into flesh and soaking themselves in blood. Yamina loved all her children yes of course; but the animalistic ones always disappointed her a little. Not Grace though. "Come out into the night with me, see what new joy this world has to offer you in the moonlight. Unless you're still intent on murdering me?"

"Don't call me 'child'," Grace hissed through gritted teeth still coated in the man's blood. The fangs felt as if they took up too much room in her mouth. She had to focus to retract them. "I've seen chaos. When your kind drink the streets dry and leave bodies ripped open in the gutter. I kill your kind to stop that from happening, not be part of it." And yet, as angry as she had been when she had first awoken, she couldn't claim to want to kill the other woman. Sire bond, or something else, Grace wasn't sure, but it was infuriating. "I want to go home." She had only just asked to not be called child, only to sound like one. "But that will never happen, thanks to you. If you think we're going to be friends..."

"Did you kill his kind too?" Yamina asked, motioning to the dead criminal. "Why stop with vampires? If you believe so strongly that you have justice and righteousness on your side, why not kill anyone who disturbs your idea of 'peace'? You have the ability. Pray tell my dear - what do you do with vampires bodies, once you've destroyed their immortal life? Don't be so sanctimonious," she spat, unable to stop herself from getting a little worked up about it. "Humans are just as terrible if not worse. Oh, you have your laws and courts - but who do those rules truly benefit? His wife and child? He was still alive, he still got to sruvive. Until you made use of him. And such a good use too, because you deserve to be fed by his blood. Because you'll survive, even if you murder me. I don't believe you will never kill yourself, even now. Stick to your morals if you prefer. Kill only those who you deem to be killed, in all your worthiness. But make no mistake, my child - you have always been a killer. A killer of both innocents and murderers alike. That has not changed."

"Because vampires aren't human. There's a difference. Humans get hanged. They don't hang vampires at the Old Bailey because they don't know they exist. That only leaves us." She still spoke about them like they were separate, as if she wasn't one of them now, as if she was still a hunter. Grace stared at her sire through eyes damp with a mix of anger, hurt and frustration. She should have killed her. She should have been better. But she had failed. This was the price she would pay. Whether she would have the courage to kill herself in the sunlight, Grace wasn't sure, but she knew she couldn't stay here. "I will never be your child," she said, pushing open the doors to the balcony and dropping from the first storey with newfound strength and agility, heading out into the night.

#chatzy #paras #with: yamina

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