Free Immortal Confessions by Tara Fox Hall

Anna’s weak heartbeat. No
one else was here.
    I bolted the fractured door, upending and
sliding the large table in front of it, to keep out the wind. In
the main room, I covered the few windows with furniture pieces and
the tablecloth, to keep out the sun. Then I went back to Anna,
again kneeling beside her, and putting more wood on the fire, so it
was blazing.
    I touched her and almost cried, she was so
cool. She was colder than before. Then I realized with amazement
that Anna hadn’t gotten any colder. It was I who’d gotten
warmer.
    It had to have been all the blood I’d drunk
tonight. It had revitalized me, made me even more energized and
powerful than the bear’s blood had a few nights ago. I’d never felt
so strong. But I’d never had so much blood at one time before,
rarely even half as much. In fact, I was a little sick from being
too full.
    “Anna,” I whispered. “Anna, wake up.”
    She stirred a little, squeezing my hand. I
took a deep ragged breath of relief, tears coming to my eyes. Then
she relaxed again, her grip loosening.
    I curled up beside her, pulling a few
blankets over us, and held her to me. Within moments, we fell
asleep.
    * * * *
    The next evening, I awoke to find Anna
tending the fire, and cooking something in a pot over its
flames.
    She saw me open my eyes, and crouched beside
me. “How do you feel?”
    “Revitalized,” I said, wanting badly to grab
hold of her and make love with her. But I didn’t know if she’d seen
the bodies outside yet. It was best to be patient.
    “You look almost radiant,” she said softly.
“Your hair is longer.”
    “This is the length it was many years ago,” I
said distastefully, pushing the just below shoulder length hair out
of my face. “It always returns to this length, when I feed...um...
a large amount.”
    “I found scissors and a straight razor,” she
said, getting up. “I can help you shave, if you like. My sister
taught me, as part of the preparation for becoming a wife.”
    “You don’t have to,” I said, getting up also.
“I can do it myself. As I told you, that legend about mirrors is
false. Likely, the bit about silver too, seeing as it’s supposed to
be the silver backing in mirrors that somehow foils a
reflection.”
    “And coins,” she said seriously. Then she
grinned at me, and began mixing lather.
    I looked at her, and then told myself I was
an idiot. I’d handled silver coins many times. They had never
burned me, or been anything to me other than currency. “You’re
right.”
    “What about werewolves?” she said with a
smile. “Do they have a problem with silver? That book I found said
they did.”
    “I don’t know, I don’t know any,” I said
honestly, and then burst out laughing. Anna joined me, and I
relaxed, happy she wasn’t horrified at what I’d had to do to save
us.
    I shaved, and Anna trimmed my hair so it was
again short. When she was done, she looked at me almost shyly.
    “What is it?” I said, giving her a curious
look.
    “You are very handsome without your beard,”
she said in that same shy voice. “This is the first time I’ve seen
you without it.”
    “Then I’ll make sure always to be
clean-shaven,” I said tenderly. “Thank you for the compliment,
Love.”
    She cooked herself a meal of what appeared to
be venison stew. Whatever it was, it smelled tasty and she seemed
to enjoy it. Afterward, she led me to the bedroom and lay down with
me, though our clothes stayed on.
    “I am not going to judge you for what you did
to save us,” she said finally. “It was our survival or theirs. But
I must know, Devlin, do you usually kill those you drink from?”
    “No,” I said honestly. “I mostly drink from
animals, as they are easy, and they do not have to die, if they are
large enough. But I do need to kill them once in a while, as I need
enough to replenish myself.”
    “And humans?”
    “Rarely,” I admitted. “It’s too easy to be
caught doing it, and villagers are a superstitious