Happy pride everyone, have a random vampire Amberfield drabble as a treat 🩸
A sharp hiss escaped Rachel’s mouth and Max knew without looking that she’d nicked herself, Rachel’s sweet, earthy scent overpowering the salt coating every inch of Arcadia Bay. Rachel’s presence already made it hard to focus on anything else but one whiff of her blood and Max’s world narrowed to the familiar map of Rachel’s veins. Her fingers twitched, desperate to trace every pathway, to smear what would bloom into a macabre painting across a mythical canvas, tensing until she nearly crushed her Polaroid in her grip.
“You okay?” Max asked as if she were okay herself, way too breathless for someone who didn’t need to breathe.
“Yeah, it’s just a…”
That pause was suspicious, practically a confirmation that Rachel was plotting something, but eventually curiosity compelled Max to abandon her previous shot to face the most stunning subject to ever grace her lens. Max couldn’t help it, automatically clicking the shutter, memorializing the splash of blue swaying amongst waves of golden fire, the natural ease of Rachel’s body whenever a camera made her a star, and the devious sparkle in hazel eyes.
“It hurts,” Rachel said, peering at the small cut on the pad of her index finger. With a smile equally as sly as it was captivating, she presented her injury to Max. “Kiss it better?”
That deceptively innocent request slithered between Max’s ribs to squeeze her stagnant heart, mimicking the pumps of Rachel’s she’d pushed to the edges of her awareness but now thundered in her skull like Rachel’s life was her own. Each rise and fall of Rachel’s chest expanded Max’s lungs, infatuation morphing her into a mirror image beyond their shared wardrobe, allowing the illusion of intimacy at a safe distance.
They both knew that distance would soon be nonexistent.
Max made no move at first, a sculpture carved of her own temptation. Then a breeze picked up as if on cue, guiding Rachel’s scent deeper into her nose, and the salacious reminder of last time—the delicious clench of Rachel’s warmth around her fangs, the hot geyser soothing her throat and spilling down her chin, the guttural moan pressed against her ear still vibrating between her thighs—chipped away at the marble immobilizing her feet. When that didn’t free her quick enough Rachel curled her finger, beckoning her forward, and Max obeyed as if tugged by an invisible leash. She walked until its range slackened, the buzz of Rachel’s body heat seeping into her icy skin and defrosting her bones.
Rachel lifted her finger near Max’s mouth, Max salivating at the tiny beads of blood organized in a thin line. Somewhere beyond the universe she was embarrassed from how eager she was for a mere sample, reduced to a fledgling blinded by their first meal, but a single drop of Rachel’s blood was more valuable than the ocean supplied by this town. One swipe of her tongue would be enough. The mess would be cleaned, the wound would heal, and they could carry on with their day. Yet Max hesitated, drowning in this thick soup of limbo, yearning so badly for Rachel’s blood but unwilling to break the spell Rachel cast on her. She couldn’t fathom returning so soon to a reality where her existence wasn’t manipulated by Rachel Amber.
Even then, Rachel didn’t force her choice. She didn’t need to. She knew exactly how to make Max want what she wanted.
Max wanted her from the moment they met.
Her trembling lips parted with a heavy pant, holding Rachel’s intense gaze as she surged forward and took her finger in her mouth. Max’s knees nearly buckled as she absorbed the hints of tree sap and rich soil, Rachel personifying nature itself. Max sucked softly, syphoning the past and the future from Rachel’s bloodstream, the life and death Rachel simultaneously occupied but offered to no one but her. Rachel played with her tongue, gently scraping her nail along its length, tattooing herself into Max’s mouth so she’d still taste her when Arcadia was nothing but a memory, when new donors failed to take her place, when the passage of time yielded to her impact.
Her exploration shifted to Max’s fangs, Max locking her jaw to avoid more accidental cuts. Rachel stroked up and down, tender and thorough, completely unafraid of what Max was and the nightmares she was capable of. Knowing Rachel felt safe with her only heightened Max’s feelings, her fangs elongating under Rachel’s affection, and Max fought back a whimper as she closed her eyes.
“Look at me, Maxie.”
Rachel’s whispered demand was immediate, and although Max possessed actual hypnotism Rachel didn’t need to be a vampire to wield such influence better than Max ever could. The ghastly crimson glow of Max’s eyes reflected in Rachel’s, perfectly encircling her dilated pupils like that shade had merely been buried just under the surface. Red had always been her colour.
Rachel leaned in close, her warm breath spilling across Max’s lips like a ghost of a kiss. “Do you want more?”
Max gulped, floundering for a response. “I fed from Chloe yesterday.”
With an alluring smile Rachel brushed her hair behind her shoulders, advertising the smooth expanse of her neck. “That’s not what I asked.”
