title=
Vampire Wings Chapter 4
Wings

 

Aziral sat next to Dillon, holding Dillon’s dry cool hand unable to take his eyes of the pale body of the boy. It had been two weeks since the crash, and yet his wildcat had yet to awaken. He knew without a doubt that it was his fault that the boy now laid in a coma. He had known that Dillon had been unhappy about his reluctance to talk about himself. It had made the boy uneasy. He also knew that the lifestyle the two of them had set up was far too tame, yet despite that centuries of hiding himself and everything about who he was laid heavily on him. When he was newly made he had made the mistake of reveling parts of himself to other humans only to meet with rejection and fear. Despite the wildcats acceptance of him lingering doubts still remained along with centuries of old habits that he still found hard to break. He had been alone for far too long. It had been over two hundred years since he had last taken a permanent lover and she had been the same as him. Neither one of them had pried into the others past knowing how painful the past of an immortal creature could really be.

"Aziral, I need to get back," Sarah said softly her face tired and worn.

"I will stay with him through the night," Aziral said without looking up.

"You need to get some rest. You look paler than Dillon Aziral. Right now there isn’t anything we can do for him, the doctors..." Sarah choked as tears began to fall down her lined face.

"Sarah?" Aziral asked putting a hand on her frail shoulder cursing the fact he couldn’t be here during the day.

"They say even if he does wake up, he will have brain damage," Sarah finally said as Aziral pulled her into his arms stroking her back.

He held the sobbing woman unable to bring himself to accept her words. It couldn’t be true; it was way too soon for him to lose Dillon. He felt Sarah pull away from him looking up at him concern on her face.

"I didn’t know what to think when Dillon brought you home. You two didn’t seem to make a good pair at all you both were so very different, yet you’re the first person he has ever opened his heart to Aziral, the first person that he ever truly cared about pleasing," Sarah said quietly.

"Surly you..."

"Oh he loved me, but he always did what he wanted when he wanted no matter what I said, no matter how much it hurt me but with you it was different. He went back to school not because of me but because you asked it of him. He stopped getting into fights not because of my scolding but because he wanted to get home to be with you Aziral. He never said a word, but it really frustrated him about your reluctance to open yourself to him. You are the first person in Dillon’s life that he ever cared enough to want to get to know better Aziral. Dillon was always a loner with no one close to him, but you changed all that. He truly cared about you, and I don’t think he would want you to continue to sit here by his side without thinking about yourself," Sarah said firmly.

"What about you?" Aziral countered surprised by the woman’s words feeling guilt hit him even deeper.

"I’m not here all day every day Aziral," Sarah sighed. "I love him, and I’m truly grateful that he found you, but I don’t like seeing you so pale and gaunt."

"I will be fine," Aziral assured her knowing that his lack of feeding was finally starting to show.

"Aziral..."

"No, please Sarah I need to stay with him. This is all my fault, if I hadn’t..." Aziral said wishing the woman would leave him alone with his guilt.

"Nonsense, Dillon was always reckless. His luck just ran out this time, the foolish boy," Sarah said tears forming again.

When Sarah had finally left Aziral sank back into the chair feeling an overwhelming sadness spread through him that shook his very soul. The wildcat wasn’t going to come back to him. Even if Dillon woke up he wouldn’t be the man Aziral had fallen in love with, and it was Aziral’s fault. If Aziral had stopped Dillon from leaving and told Dillon everything about himself, this wouldn’t have happened. Aziral knew when he saw the man slumped on the ground at his feet that Dillon was hurting, yet Aziral had still held back. Afraid to speak of himself and still seething at the pictures that Brian had shown him. It had angered him beyond comprehension that anyone had seen the wildcat make such faces, that someone other than him could make the boy look so hungry with desire.

The urge to find those men who had seen his wildcat like that had been almost overpowering. He wanted to kill them to rip them apart for exposing the boy in such a way. His anger had been directed at those who had taken the pictures, yet he had also felt anger at the boy for foolishly allowing anyone to photograph him in such a way.

The wildcat was the only one who had ever been able to truly make him lose his composure so completely. Aziral had lived as a vampire for over five hundred years and he had never once felt this way for anyone. Because Aziral had loved the fierce strong man so very much, it became even harder to open himself to Dillon fully. Every single time he had told his past lovers about himself it had ended in ruin. From some backing away from him in fear and leading a mob against him to running a spike through his heart or those that were determined to become vampires themselves, confidant in the fact they would be able to kill him and free themselves from slavery to him. He had stopped taking lovers altogether when Maya had left him.

A vampire like himself, they had live together sharing for over fifty years. Both of them had gone through similar trials being a creature of night. He had not loved her but they were the same and had common ground on which to stand. All of that had changed the night he had told her of his long dead master’s journals. He had awakened to find her glued to his neck her mind ferociously battering at his own trying to take control of him. She was trying to kill him as he had once killed his own Master by draining all the blood completely from his body as only a vampire could do sucking his very soul from his body.

As he had fought her, his mind touched hers. He realized that she had never loved him but had only been looking for information on his creator something he had always been reluctant to talk about, a man who she had truly loved long before he had been created. He had felt betrayed and used as he struggled against her eventually winning the battle of minds and taking her life just as he had taken his Masters so long ago.

After that night he had refused to ever care about anyone again nor reveal anything important about himself. For two hundred years he had held to that promise and then a crimson haired wildcat had landed with all four feet firmly planted in Aziral’s heart. At the first taste of Dillon’s blood Aziral had felt himself addicted to the boy and yet Aziral had tried to remain firm in his resolve and stayed away from Dillon until the night of the exhibit when Aziral saw Brian’s newest creation.

He knew instantly that it was his wildcat bound in chains his eyes defiant and at the same time seductive. Brian had captured him so perfectly that it had made Aziral literally tremble at the sight of the painting. He knew in that single instant he had lost and that his promise was shattered. When the boy had come at him shouting his name and swinging he knew that for the first time he had met someone that was his match in strength of mind and soul, later that night the wildcat had not only welcomed the monster within him but eagerly drew him closer. Aziral knew that he could never let Dillon go.

Each night of exploration of the boy’s mind and body had only increased Aziral’s addiction to the wildcat until Aziral knew that he was totally lost. He loved the young man’s ferocity and passion that was tempered by a rough kindness that made him sacrifice everything for those he cared about. His indomitable spirit and lust for life was so very addicting that it pulled Aziral in. Dillon’s fearlessness of Aziral and what he was, so intoxicating to a man that had always been met with fear by anyone who had discovered his secret.

Aziral buried his face in his hands unable to look at Dillon so broken and lifeless on the bed. Aziral couldn’t bear the fact that he had lost Dillon so soon after meeting him, the fact that his own inactions had caused it was more than he could bear. There was nothing he could do; he had sunk his mind into Dillon’s countless times since the accident only to be met with darkness and silence. Now he knew why, his beloved was no longer there.

The pain was so completely unbearable. He couldn’t lose his wildcat, he couldn’t. He rose from his chair and left the room knowing there was only thing left to do. Flipping open his cell phone he made a call to set a plan into motion, a desperate plan that would ultimately lead to his own death.

 

A quiet wind blew through the window as Aziral stared at the fuzzy image in the mirror in front of him dully. The sounds of Wildcat’s radio echoing throughout the empty castle. He knew that the boy had slipped away from the castle as soon as the sun had set thinking he could go out hunting without Aziral knowing as long as he turned on his favorite CD and left it blaring, yet Aziral knew and followed the boy with his mind watching Dillon as he carefully feed slipping his mind into the victim erasing her memories completely.

It had been two months since they had come to England. Each night was a bittersweet torture for Aziral as he watched Wildcat grow into his new life. The name didn’t fit him anymore although Aziral couldn’t bear to call him anything else. The passion and fury of his wildcat was gone now, remade into a calm almost languid man with a deep introspective personality. The change had wrought its magic on his mind and body, remaking his wildcat into something completely different, everything except the outer shell was different. It was if Wildcat had become the polar opposite of the rash youth he had been before. Wildcat’s subservient nature was breaking Aziral’s heart even more.

He had taught the young vampire everything he could as quickly as he could unable to bear his life anymore. The guilt of what he had done out of his cowardice ate at him. Aziral heard Wildcat slip into the room crawling up into Aziral’s lap curling around him like a tame version of Wildcat’s namesake.

"Master," Wildcat murmured burying his head into Aziral’s chest.

Aziral sighed stroking the bright red hair feeling the warm body next to his own ice cold one. It was time, he knew, to set his creation free and himself from the pain of his own memories.

"Wildcat, I want you to promise me something," Aziral said softly.

"What Master?"

"Never fall in love, guard your heart carefully," Aziral whispered as he felt a finger reach up to press against his lips.

"You loved me once, didn’t you?" Wildcat asked his bright sapphire eyes stared at Aziral deeply.

"Yes," Aziral said simply looking down at a face that was so much like the one he loved yet so very different at the same time.

"I promise Master," Wildcat replied softly.

"I want you to drink from me, Wildcat, until I no longer exist," Aziral said softly closing his eyes.

"I don’t want to," Wildcat said looking at Aziral with eyes that sparked of defiance.

"Don’t you want to be free?" Aziral asked.

"No," Wildcat shook his head in denial.

"The Wildcat I loved would wish it and I wish it. You know how to survive in this world now as a vampire, I want you to set both of us free," Aziral said.

"So you can fly? But then why do you cry?" Wildcat asked.

"What are you talking about?" Aziral asked confused.

"You want your black wings, but you cry when you get them. I remember this from before, it is the only thing I remember," Wildcat said.

"You mean from your previous life, but that isn’t possible," Aziral said stunned.

"I remember you with black wings crying tears of blood. It is confusing because I remember it with all these emotions that aren’t my own," Wildcat said with a shrug.

Aziral sunk his mind into Wildcat’s frantically looking for any glimmer of his old love, ruthlessly going through the boy’s mind as he squirmed on Aziral’s lap. Aziral found no memories of the man he had loved until finally he found what the young vampire was talking about. He looked at the vision feeling the heavy tones of pleasure, horror, and confusion hanging around it. He probed the memory until finally he realized where it had come from. He had never even known Dillon had possessed such a vision. He had remembered the night having relived it over and over again in the past months, the last night he had been with his love.

It was a vision of Aziral’s death for it was the same memory he himself had seen when his own master had died. It was the only memory he had been left with of the man who had created him. He began to laugh the irony of the vision hitting him as Wildcat stared at him confused. It was too much. If Dillon had only said something that night perhaps things would have turned out very differently yet instead he had hid it just as Aziral had hid everything from him.

"Drink Wildcat," Aziral commanded forcing the young vampire to obey him.

He felt teeth sink into his body as he wrapped his arms around the man who was no longer the person who he loved. He felt the blood quickly leave him as he slowly lost consciousness leaving his mind completely open to the vampire drinking from him. He felt Wildcat’s mind merge with his own, a soft gentle voice wrapping around his mind.

"Aziral, I can’t give you your wings yet. Come and forget with me until we are both ready to fly together. Be my master and my slave for the sake of the man who loved you and who left within me the strength and passion to keep you alive. Forget with me and love again."



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