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Josh loved to listen to the old stories. They weren’t meant to be enjoyable, or fun, or any of that. When his grandfather, an old man who’s skin was folded so many times over it was hard to find his eyes some times, croaked out his tales of how his granddad would drink and fight in the sun, it was meant to be haunting. They were warnings of what would happen if their people ate anything other than what crawled on its belly.
Josh had never tasted anything other than rats, snakes, rabbits, and things like that. Ashley had once eaten a roach, and said it tasted like sand. Josh had never licked sand before, so he had only laughed.
Before his people moved underground, they had been among the strongest creatures in the world. Humans whimpered at their name. They could walk in the sun, break trees with their hand and run faster than eyes could process. They drank whatever they pleased, reveling in the taste, including the blood of fairies. It had been the Faes idea, according to their leader. It was their blood that made them strong, according to grandfather, Fae blood, that is. But fae blood was binding, addicting, and soon, Josh’s people ran away to live under ground in caves, cowering from the light of the sun and living things that crawled on their belling and hissed.
“Those are living creatures up there,” Grandfather would rasp, waving his cane at the dirt roof, “They need that blood more than we do.”
“And the rats and the rabbits?”
“No one really cares about those,” Grandfather would wave away his worries. “They wander our caves and we hunt them down.”
Grandfather was an old, old man, and well respected for his age. When he walked down the town square, people leapt to help him stride. Josh didn’t really know how old he was, but it wasn’t quite polite to ask.
On the day that the caves Josh grew up in filled with smoke, Josh was trying to feed his grandfather a rabbit. Grandfather was waving it was, his bones creaking in discomfort.
“It’s much too small, why would you waste your coin on that?”
“Last time you said it was too big.”
“That was a mother rabbit, you never buy a mother rabbit. Mother rabbits make more rabbits for us to eat.”
“Well, this is what I have, so you will drink it or you will starve.” Josh bit off the head, and spat. He got out the glasses and started pouring the blood.
“If your father was here…”
Josh stopped listening at that point, feeding his grandfather the cup gently. It would have been one of two things, and Josh didn’t want to hear either of them. It would either have been how disappointed his father would have been that Josh couldn’t hunt himself, or how shocked Josh that Josh looked like his mother. Grandfather was a messy drinker, letting the blood dribble all over his chin. Josh wiped it up with his thumb and before tending to his own drink.
“My own grandfather used to spit every time he tasted rats blood,” the old man crooned mournfully. He stared at his glass sadly.
Josh merely hummed. His grandfather was waiting patiently for his death. His true mate had died; he had been forced to bury his own child, his child’s true mate, and had now watched his grandchildren grow up without ever seeing the sun. But Josh hadn’t the heart to murder him. Grandfather’s folds revealed his dead blue eyes, and he sighed. “I am going to sleep, Joshua. Let me sleep.”
Josh nodded, and tossed away the rat’s cadaver. The look on his grandfather’s face was depressing, so tired and sad. He helped the old man stand, and guided him to the apartment’s master bedroom, and put away the cane. Through the cave walls, the neighbor’s baby was quiet, and Josh suddenly felt so tired.
Not feeling hungry anymore Josh got up wash the glasses, and he noticed smoke sneaking in from under the door that lead to the other apartments. Josh fell, the cup slipping from his hand, spilling the blood.
It was hard to breathe, the smoke clogging his throat and making his eyes burn. He was so tired, but he struggled to stay awake. He could hear the sound of people yelling, but how could they yell when this surrounded them? Was there a fire? He didn’t feel hot? In fact, Josh felt so cold. He curled into himself, the cup still in his palm.
The door to the Cuthbert’s apartment opened, and Josh winced. He tried to stand up, but only managed to crawl. His limbs felt like they weighed like lead. He heard a voice, but it was muffled-
“Hey, there, it’s okay.”
“I think he was in the middle of eating.”
Josh felt a hand on his shoulder, rolling him over onto his back. Three figures, dressed in dark garments stood over him. He couldn’t see their faces; they wore masks to guard them. One of the figures was holding his glass, and one was still holding his shoulder.
“Please, don’t kill me,” Josh said, trying to talk through the smoke. It was getting harder and harder to see the figures, and the back of his throat was getting dry. “My grandfather- he needs me.”
“Jaymi, go find the grandfather.”
“But-“
“Go.”
The smoke was over powering now, and Josh couldn’t even see anymore, let alone breathe. He was at least healthy, strong. He couldn’t bear to deal with his grandfather. So he let himself fall asleep.
When he woke up, he was somewhere soft, his legs stretched out in front of him, and his head lolled to the side.
“Are you sure this is the one?”
“Yeah, I am!”
“I’m just making sure. He’s spent his life underground living on rats. At least Olly had some human blood before I gave him mine.”
“Just tell me what to do already.”
“Maybe we should wake him up.”
“I think that would be very, very bad. Look, just cut your hand a bit, he’ll smell it, and it’ll smell a lot better than rat.”
It took a few seconds before the smell of something sticky sweet yet tart wafted to his nose. Josh really didn’t want to, because it sounded like something he shouldn’t like, something that didn’t crawl on its belly, but it smelled so good, and really, what was wrong with smelling?
But then it got closer, so close, and something wet touched his nose, and someone laughed.
“JJ!”
“What? He wasn’t biting! Literally.”
Then the sticky, sweet and tart touched his mouth, and he couldn’t help it. He knew his people would be disappointed. He knew his grandfather might get angry. But he tasted it, and he tasted it again, and then he drank, the blood flowing over his tongue and down his throat, and oh, it tasted heavenly.
And then he knew what he was drinking: Fae blood. His eyes flew open to see the fairy that he had tasted. Josh pulled his mouth away, wiping his lips clean and gasped. The man smiled, and with his unharmed hand, traced Josh’s jaw.
“You are so beautiful, my vampire.”