Sorry for the delay. It seemed that I had reached a suitable pause in the story for a while. Also, I noticed (thanks to a helpful comment!) that I made a typo in Chapter 3(ish). Adam was born in BC, not AD. So my math was off, but it's right if you place Adam in BC. Sorry about that! Also, you'll get a bit of a different perspective in this chapter. The entire story so far has been told from Emma's point of view. I'm keeping it that way, but for a while in this chapter she's a little...out of commission. Keep that in mind, sound good? And one more thing: you may have noticed that when I first posted this story, I had another under my name entitled "A True Duet." That was my first story, and I didn't like it much, so I'm planning on rewriting it. However, one of the characters from that story appears in this one. Alright, enjoy!
Chapter Six
Pain. It was the first thing that registered in my mind after my eyes snapped open. Indescribable pain; a feeling of being slowly frozen to death from the inside out. Everything burned cold. I felt my back arching off of the bed, heard myself making sounds that could only be described as carnal. Adam was kneeling frantically next to me, pressing a cool cloth to my forehead. But I was already freezing. I was freezing from the inside out. Didn't he know that? Hadn't he been through this before?
I wanted to scream at him, tell him to warm me up, tell him to do something,
anything
, but the words wouldn't come. Only noises—moans, groans, grunts, cries. I felt tears leaking from my eyes as my body twisted and turned in the dark. I could feel the sweat running down my neck, didn't have the capacity to wonder why I was sweating if I was so cold. Sobs wracked my body and I screamed one last time before passing into oblivion.
****
Adam ran his hand through his hair as Emma passed out. He was pale, his face drained of all blood. Even as she slept, Emma whimpered in the dark, writhing on the bed.
He was a monster. What had he done?
He'd thought with his dick, that's what he'd done. He had been so happy to find Emma alive and well, so overjoyed when she had said that she wanted to stay with him forever, to give herself to him, that he had given into the lust that had overtaken him the very first time he had seen her. As she lay on the bed, twisting, shivering and sweating at the same time, he thought back to when he had been changed.
It wasn't like this, was it? He didn't remember screaming, crying in pain. He didn't really remember anything.
A groan from Emma broke his thoughts and he focused on her. Maybe if he could just get some medicine in her system, do something to make her sleep. How long was this transformation supposed to take?
Guilt welled deep within Adam. She trusted him. She loved him. And he had put her through this without finding anything out. However old he may be, the fact was that he knew almost nothing about being a vampire. He should have found out before doing this. He should have researched, should have done everything in his power to make it as painless a transition as possible.
Instead, he had acted like a hormonal teenager. He'd taken Emma without understanding the consequences. His behavior was inexcusable. But he refused to believe that she wouldn't be alright. She had to be alright. This was what every human went through when they were turned, wasn't it?
God damn it!
He didn't know anything! What if she wasn't going to be alright? Who was he supposed to talk to? There was no one to turn to, no one to ask. There wasn't another vampire in the world. Not that he knew of, anyway. And he had done his fair share of searching when he had so foolishly left Emma alone and traveled to Europe and the Mediterranean. He had poked and prodded, looking everywhere for even a sign of someone like him, but to no avail. As far as he was concerned, it was him and Emma against the world.
A strangled scream echoed from Emma's throat, and Adam shuddered, placing a firm kiss on her forehead. She would be ok. She had to be. The night went on. Emma would wake, screaming at him to warm her up, sobbing, twisting in delirium. Silent, Adam would continue to press the cold cloth to her hot forehead, dying a little bit each time she yelled at him. As the dawn broke and thin slivers of light made their way through the cracks in the blinds, falling on Emma, Adam began to be afraid. She was so, so pale. Sickly looking. What if her body couldn't take to the vampirism? What if he had killed her?
Suddenly, her groans stopped. She fell still, her heartbeat slowed. And kept getting slower. Her breathing seemed labored. She looked like porcelain lying on the bed, and felt just as fragile. His instincts screamed at him, yelling that this silence was bad, but Adam tried to convince himself that it was a good thing. Perhaps she was getting better. He crawled up onto the bed with her and took her up into his arms, rocking her softly and slowly.
"Please, Em. Stay with me. Please.
Please.
"
Unbidden, a tear rose into his eye, and he pressed his lips against the top of her head, rocking them both gently as he held her fevered body close.
Adam stayed like that, holding her close, until the silence was shattered by a loud knock on his door. His hazel eyes shot towards the door, his senses went on alert.
What the hell?
Laying her down gently, eliciting a whimper with the movement, he slipped into a pair of jeans and walked to the door, opening it slightly.
"Can I help you?" His voice was a near-growl; being distracted from Emma put him on edge.
"I'd appreciate a word with you, Adam." An olive-colored, masculine hand pressed against the door and opened it with surprising strength.
Suspicion flooded his body, and Adam struggled to remain calm as the unwelcome visitor stepped over the threshold of the door. Unwilling to reveal himself as inhuman, he had no choice but to step aside as he allowed the stranger into his home. He fought the urge to snarl at the intruder, pressing his lips shut and crossing his arms, letting his eyes peruse the man before saying anything.
The figure that stepped inside was tall, at least his height. There was a distinctive olive hue to his skin, and his eyes were a honeyed-brown. A cropped, dark mass of curls covered his head. He was dressed in business attire, wearing a grey suit with a black dress shirt underneath it. He had neglected to put on a tie and his shirt was open at the collar, adding a slightly more relaxed look to his whole ensemble.
He eyed Adam's bare chest with a slight look of disapproval before bringing his eyes back up to his face.
Adam's posture stiffened as he unconsciously widened his stance and assumed a defensive pose. "Can I help you?" he repeated once again. The man cleared his throat, then began to speak. "I'll keep this clear and to the point. I know who you are, Adam. More importantly, I know
what
you are. You are a vampire."
Adam's stance faltered as the man continued, confidently.
"In fact, you're one of the oldest of all vampires around presently, outranked by a select few. You've adapted yourself extraordinarily well to fit in with the humans, but I've come to escort you back to Greece, to be with your own kind. This isn't a choice. You'd best dress yourself and follow me."
Adam's arms had slowly dropped to his sides as the man spoke. A variety of different emotions flew across his face, shock, surprise, and outrage.
