Free The Blood That Bonds by Christopher Buecheler Page B

a
breath.
    “ How far is it?”
    “ Not far. Can you walk a
bit?”
    Two nodded. Melissa went to the door, opened
it, held it for her. In the hallway, the vampire took the lead, and
Two followed.
     
    * * *
     
    The bath was heaven on earth. Giant marble
slabs, green and black and grey patterns tracing themselves out
across what seemed, at first, to be miles of stone. The basin had
to be twelve feet long, three feet deep. Sitting straight up, Two
saw, the water could easily have covered her head. The faucet was
enormous. The water steamed as Melissa turned it on.
    “ I like flowers. Do you
like flowers?”
    Two had no idea what Melissa meant. She
shrugged. “Sure?”
    “ In the bath,
silly.”
    “ Oh.” Two honestly didn’t
know. She’d never tried it. “Why not?”
    Melissa laughed, took a basket from the
shelf above, dropped hundreds upon hundreds of blossoms into the
bath water. Their fragrance filled the room immediately, cherry
blossoms, rose petals, the sweet smell of citrus.
    Melissa lit candles, turned off the lights,
stood in front of Two, unbuttoned her blouse. Two shrugged it off.
Melissa’s blood seemed to have imbued her with a sense of great
calm, and Two found herself unconcerned about being naked in front
of the vampire girl. Melissa, for her part, seemed entirely
unfazed. She helped Two out of the rest of her garments, held her
arm out for balance as Two climbed the steps to the bath and
stepped in. Two descended into the petals, felt the warmth embrace
her, and sighed. Melissa sat on the step, played with the water at
her fingertips, smiled at Two.
    “ Good?”
    “ Oh, yes.”
    Melissa handed her a gigantic sponge, craggy
and twisted and obviously natural, and some sort of perfumed bath
lotion. Two cleaned herself slowly. Melissa chattered, behind her
and to the right, about all sorts of things. New pop music she was
enamored with, the wonderful lights and throbbing beats of the
raves she attended, the new interpretation of Shakespeare running
on Broadway. Her tastes were more varied than anyone Two had met.
She kept the conversation casual.
    Eventually, Two was as clean as she was
going to get. She lingered, relaxed, the withdrawal back in some
dark corner, brooding, not yet ready to return. Melissa ran water,
filled a clay jug, ancient glaze cracked along its contours, and
wet Two’s hair. Two leaned back, eyes closed, as Melissa’s fingers
worked shampoo through her blonde curls. It was like a supernatural
visit to a salon, Two reflected, and laughed slightly. Melissa
seemed to catch this thought, and smiled as well.
    She helped Two from the bath, dried her,
helped her choose perfumes Theroen might like, helped her dress in
a long, flowing gown. Green, like her eyes. It was a bit too long,
but otherwise fit well.
    “ He’ll say he prefers
black, if you ask him, but he’s just buying into the whole vampire
thing. You look like a goddess, and he’ll know it.”
    Two looked at herself in
the mirror, amazed at the change. White skin, green dress, green
eyes, golden hair. The gown was of an older style, décolleté , leaving little
to the imagination, pushing her breasts upward and making them seem
fuller. She looked like a lady at court. Two smiled, giggled like a
little girl, touched her own hair as if not believing. In her
nineteen years, she had never seen herself like this. Two had
always understood that she possessed some level of beauty, and knew
also that the vampirism was enhancing this even more, but still
would never have believed she could look like this.
    Behind her stood Melissa, still in her
simple jeans and blouse and yet radiating supernatural beauty as
well. Smiling, she touched Two’s neck, and Two turned. A small,
sweet kiss on the lips, and Melissa peered into her eyes,
beaming.
    “ Soon we’ll be sisters! Or
nearly enough. You and Theroen will be together, and we can all
hunt and live and see and do! Won’t it be wonderful?”
    Two thought it might, indeed.
     
    * *