Against her wrist Galina could feel the first tentative laps of his tongue, then his mouth grabbed at her skin around the cut, seeking more of the life giving liquid. Galina could remember her first time, the first sensation of blood against her lips, the salty tang of it hitting her tongue, the idea that it was somehow wrong, yet her only chance of survival lingering at the periphery. She too had been weak, illness having wracked her body, leaving her hallow and almost lifeless. The wrist that had been offered to her had indeed been her only salvation, her only hope of survival. She had knowingly latched her lips upon her maker’s wrist, had foolishly traded away her life (a life almost lost) for the nectar of survival. She had not understood the stakes then, as the man who now depended on her did not understand the stakes, but she would make him understand. She would take him under her tutelage and help him survive. She would not leave him only a few days outside her old home to fend for herself. Together they would walk this path, together they would survive, together they would build a life. Together.

Finally the man’s gulps lessened until finally he parted from her arm. His question made Galina laugh, placing a gentle hand to his temple she stroked away the hair that lingered there as a mother might comfort a babe. “Yes, you shall live.” She told him, her voice quiet in the silence of the street, her gaze beneath her hood full of fondness. It was all she should do not to hate herself for causing him to fear such a thing for himself. How could she ever think to harm him.

With the man’s attention on her now, calm, no longer threatening she was able to take him in. His eyes were different than she remembered, darker, perhaps because of the night around them. His jaw seemed sharper beneath his beard as she traced it with her gentle fingers. He had aged well, hardly a day seemed to have passed since last she had seen her scholar. How long had it been since then? Years? Decades? Surely he ought to have the salt of old age peppering his hair, hard earned wrinkles on his forehead. She had even hoped for laugh lines by his mouth and eyes, as they had crinkled when he smiled at her, delighted with what she might say. She had hoped his life would give them many, he deserved happiness, laughter in his life.

What was slowly dawning on Galina was dropped upon her with the weight of a hundred heart breaks. Every misery she had endured felt heavy upon her at his words. His gentle hand against her arm felt cool instead of warm. He didn’t recognize her, didn’t know who she was, didn’t know the plans they had once had. In that moment of clarity she saw what she had missed in her fervour and desire. She saw how foolish she had been, what she had just done to a man she did not know. She could no longer hide the truth from herself. Could no longer keep herself from noticing the differences between the man she had loved and the man before her. He was not her scholar, not the love of her life, not the man she would have traded her very soul for. He was nothing more than a common man, nothing more than those who wandered this land look for opportunity. An opportunity that Galina had just taken from him. Galina drew back, away from his piercing gaze, into her hood, hating herself for what she had done. She could not undo it, could not take it back.

She could not dwell on this, however, as the sound of boots hitting the ground thundered nearby. Someone must have raised the alarm. Fear rose in her bosom, clawing at her throat. She could not leave him alone, defenseless here, did not have time to make him understand what had happened. “Shh!” She hissed, stilling his tongue with her finger pressed against his lips. “We’re not safe here.” She told him, almost pushing him from her lap in her haste to stand. Her skirts swayed against the ground, dirtied from the encounter, but it gave her no pause as it would a lifetime ago. “Come.” She commanded, reaching out her small hand to lead him away.

She could correct her mistake by offering him shelter, salvation, protection, she lied to herself. If she could keep him from harm, explain what had happened, it might in some small way help him. He might even come to love the changes he faced himself. Might come to understand in some small part what she had done. But her reasons, those she would never be able to explain, not to him, not to Mari, perhaps not even to herself. She would lock them away, save them as she would save this man, and never think upon such foolishness again. And never would she attempt to turn someone again, regardless of her reasons.

Back into the alley she led Ishmael, ducking into another one that went by the backsteps of bars and houses of ill repute. Back into the shadows that her life now encompassed.

If only it were that simple. Ahead she could see a troop of soldiers watching into the dark, looking for the commotion. Waiting for them to stumble upon them. Above her she heard the call of her only family, “Leeny” crying through the wind. Mari was unpredictable enough, she’d need to explain the situation to her before introducing her to the newest member of their small family and she’d never get him past those soldiers.

“Wait here.” Galina commanded gently. She’d come back to the man. She’d come back and explain it all to him, save him. But right now she could not. She disappeared into the night intend on coming back.

Word count: 1000