#le.

This silver tongued, yet blood-stained businessman never expected anything more than a delicious treat though. He thought maybe he could get high off your blood or even drunk. Different samples of blood had many different effects on him. Sometimes he could taste the spices of a previous meal or feel the emotion that was surging through the person. Other times it just ended his hunger, and sometimes it made him hungrier. Max looked forward to whatever awaited him at your home.

Intrigued was probably the only thing he was feeling at the moment though. Honestly, Max didn’t have the slightest clue what to expect from whatever deal he was about to make. Normally, a midnight rendezvous would make him one horny bastard, but Max’s gut told him no primal pleasure of that sorts was in the cards for tonight. Perhaps another night if all went well. Maybe he could get a little more than just blood to quench his thirst.

At the very least his curiosity would be quenched. Max wondered if he drank your blood, then maybe he would figure out what you were. Not that he had much experience with other supernatural creatures, humans were his main source of diet. But Max’s lack of experience didn’t stop his brain from wondering. Did dryads taste like earth? Like a fresh salad? Or gross muddy dirt…not that Max knew what dirt tasted like. Or maybe if you were an elemental, Max would taste a juice brisket again, but he quickly thought that perhaps you would taste dry like burnt toast. That would only be if you were a fire elemental. But how would a wind elemental taste? Does wind even have a taste? Max looked around him as he walked the stone path past the estate, smelling the mold and dust that lay locked inside the old structure, and upon see no one around him, he stuck out if tongue to a passing breeze. Nope not much of anything as far as he was concerned.

As the vampire strode further through the estate, he could feel the touch of wondering eyes. Max kept his pace up has his own eyes lingered over the only other figures in the gardens. Gossiping statues towered over him as if to leer in his direction. Under normal circumstances, Max would consider easily ripping the heads off the statues but after the odd placement of vines that he had tripped over when he first met you, he was playing it safe. For now, the blabbermouth sculptures were safe from decapitation, continuing their reign of hearsay. Max stopped his stride abruptly though. Was he really considering that the statues were watching him…even talking about him? Where was his head going?

Craning his head to peak at the statue he had just past, Max gave the marble figure a good once over. A small, winged child stood between large, bushy flowers. The little thing was affix to a rock below while holding out a bowl of rainwater for the birds. Lines of dirt and age streamed down the depths of the angel’s tunic as a grimy, yet cubby face considered the world with a pleasant smile. Max flared his nose as he returned a disgusted pout to the angel. He rocked back on his heels and stepped towards the statue, crouching down for an eye-to-eye conversation.

“You’re lucky I’m not taking that bowl of offerings and smashing it into your face cupid,” Max sneered as he flicked dirty water from the bowl to the statue’s face.

With a shake of his head, Max jumped back into his brisk walk, further ignoring the growing feeling of steely eyes piercing the back of his head like a stake. He pushed his hands into his pockets, not lingering on the callous feeling creeping in him, as he wrecked his brain for some sanity. Max didn’t need to believe that the statues were watching him. He didn’t need to start talking to them either. The only thing he needed to keep in mind was the sweet goal that lay before him in the small cottage that he could just make out beyond the tree line. The pleasant smell of herbs breezed past his nose, and he zeroed in on the steady beat of your familiar heart.

A sleezy smile formed on Max’s face as he caught your smell through the incense and pine. It was the calm lavender, sweet jasmine, and fresh smoke. Your smell propelled Max quicker down the path. He licked his elongated teeth as his mouth watered to the idea of finally drinking you. The vampire paused for a moment and watched you from far out. You briskly glided back and forth, from you house to the garden patio area where smoke bellowed out of a small caldron. A few small chests held bottles of dry ingredients as a book or two laid open upon a table that you must’ve moved from the house. Black candles were light about the area, cycling a ring of salt around your caldron. You reappeared from the house with small blade and mirror in hand. Trapped in your own world you didn’t see Max saunter over and plop himself down in one of the patio chairs. Max couldn’t decide if he wanted to make you aware of his presence or let you find out on your own. He eyed the spray bottle attached to your hip when he finally decided to make himself known to you, hoping to avoid an herbal shower again. He was really hoping the dry cleaners would get that stench out of his charcoal grey suit.

“You sure are getting everything prepare for me babe, need a helping hand?” Max mocked at you.

You squeaked out in surprise as your hand fell to your spray bottle.

Max then stiffened, “Hey now, I was just being nice here. No need to be trigger happy.”

You studied the vampire before saying, “For now. I’ll hold myself back.” Glancing up at the moon, you smiled a beautiful smile to Max, one that lit up brighter than the moon above the two of you, “I’m almost ready, just need one more thing.” You skipped off back to your house, only to appear back with a small glass vial in hand. “Now I’m ready.”

Max’s eyes swept back and forth from the empty vial to your shining smile. The night was getting further and further from where Max had thought it was supposed to go. Max even swore he could feel his dormmate stomach turn upside down at the promise, or pain, that was about to come from his insatiable desire. He had the sudden feeling of being trapped, one that he just willingly walked into. Wasn’t he supposed to be the predator not the prey?

The scent of bitter lemons and soft lavender fumed off sticks of incense as smoke escaped the small black caldron in the middle of the patio. The air was full of flowery to herbal scent that was probably seeping into Max’s work clothes, but not his flaring nostrils. Max’s face was in a constant state of disgust as he sat back and watched you scurry between your chests and books. He observed your hand skim over the ink of dense books while your other flicked ingredient into the caldron. As you poured a bowl of shredded purple vegetables into the caldron, Max stuck out his tongue as he remembered the smell and taste of carrots from his childhood. He eyed you as you proceeded to stir in some green leaves, small brown knobs, more green leaves, fruit slices, something grainy, and water. He caught small whiffs of apple and sugar in the mix you were brewing but refused to inhale anything else in the garden. If he were human, his allergies would have been going crazy by now.

“Carrot, tarragon, cloves, rosemary, basil, apple, sugar and water.” You said matter-of-factly to Max.

He raised an eyebrow at you, “I didn’t ask.”

“Your face did,” you jabbed a finger in his direction, making him flinch.

Max rolled his eyes and situated himself in his chair to lean further away from you.

“So, this ritual…”

“I’ll walk you through it in a minute once I’m done making my drink.”

“Wait you’re making yourself a drink? Right now? Aren’t we on a schedule?” Max pointed at the moon as he looked at you incredulously.

“We’ve got time. Plus, I thought since you get a drink out of this, I should at least make myself a drink as well.”

Max smirked at you and leaned out of the chair to you, “Sugar, if you wanted to drink and dine, we could have started this night earlier and made it more fun.”

“Oh, you just sit tight, we’ll have fun soon enough,” You stated as you passed your hand through the billowing fumes coming out the caldron and pushed it towards you. A serene, wicked smile graced your face that had Max frowning and sitting back in his chair again.

He continued to keep an eye on you as you retreated to your ingredient’s chest, handling a glass cup and small cups of something bitter.

“Just need a shot of the syrup,” you spoke as you ladled some of the liquid out of the caldron and into your glass, “Then apple cider vinegar, lime juice, and sparkling water.” You added the rest of the liquid ingredients and then twirled in place to a bowl you had place by earlier in the night. “Finally, a mix of black pepper, juniper berries, anise, and more leaves of tarragon. Done!” You smiled at the bright swirling orange drink in your hand. It seems to almost glow and sparkle in you hand, making Max do a double take to really see the drink swirl with life and energy. He watched as your lips gently touched the rim of the cup and eyed your throat as you slowly drank down the liquid. A small drop of the orange solution slowly slid down your chin. Max stared at it as it glistened down your skin, making him open and quickly close his mouth. You finished your drink and brushed the drop from your face and turned your attention to him.

“You know I wonder if you have any taste buds left after being turned undead. I wonder if you would be able to taste the earthiness of this drink. Or are you too bloodthirsty to see the world in anything other than red. Do you only smell blood or hear the beat of a human’s heart? Would this taste like ash or maybe nothing at all? I’m just curious to know if you’re only capable of getting drunk on the taste of iron, you know. Maybe we can do a little experiment and see if you can taste the difference between real iron or blood. But now I’m being a bad host. Care for a taste yourself or shall of get some iron from the estate fences?” You stared him down from your own chair in the garden, unfazed by the thought of sharing the night with a vampire as you waited for his answer. Max’s jaw clenched as he battled his own brain to answer you quickly.

“I’ll taste it when I taste you.” His face remained neutral, surprisingly, but his eyes dulled to a black as he stared you down. He watched as you only smiled at him in return. You heart still beat steadily under his gaze which irked him.

“Well suppose now we can get started on that ritual, ready?”

“Ready when you are babe.” Max watched as you jumped from you seat with glee.

As you rounded off to another box with random items and tools, Max huffed. You had a real spring in your step tonight. Maybe it was something in the air or in the water, but Max couldn’t shake you. When he had cornered you at the estate the other day, your heart was beating rapidly at his mere closeness, but today you were steady as his own non-beating heart. Max pushed away the incense smoke from his face as he drummed his fingers against the patio chair. Maybe it was the fact that you were in the woods? On your own home turf? But you had said you were no dryad. His eye glanced about the patio where you had laid out all your items. Maybe a genie? Genies were hoarders, weren’t they? Dragons definitely hoarded or collected as they often counter argued. But there wasn’t enough smoke or ash to your smell, and after that one-time Max had an unfortunate disastrous meeting with a dragon, he had a clear sense in who dragons were and had zero desire to meet another one. Fire and vampers don’t mix. Max still was grumpy at the loss of his favorite lucky suit.

Skipping back to Max, you snapped him from his thoughts as you handed him one vintage golden hand mirror. The handle was engraved with feathers and vines while more flowers and swirling designs framed the old rubbish mirror. Max rolled his eyes at its gaudy nature.

“What’s this for?”

“It’s a looking glass, you have one and I have one. We’ll—”

“We’re not doing the whole Alice in Wonderland fiasco are we? I came here for a drink not a child’s story.”

“Oh, but you are certainly a child, now shut up and hold both these mirrors. I need to tie them together.”

Max pouted as he watched you tie a thin black thread from one mirror to the other. You took back one of the mirrors and glanced at the moon. Right on schedule. Placing the mirror in front of your chest, you looked at Max expectantly.

“We have to look at each other in the eyes through the mirrors,” you said as you angled the mirror and his as well.

“Easy for me to figure out but hate to remind you of one little hiccup. I have no reflection.”

“I know that.”

“Then why are we bothering with this. How about we just shake hands, and you show me that pretty neck.”

“Or I do this.” Max flinch as you reached out your hand towards his face, “Hold still.” His face pinched as you placed you hand to his head, straightening him up so that you could place one finger on his eye lid. You then adjusted the mirrors you both held so that you had a clear view of where Max’s face was at. Through the mirror you saw the top of his suit and your hand floating freely where his face should have been. Staring right where your finger was at, you slowly you took your hand away from Max’s face as you actually did look him straight into the eyes through the looking glasses.

“Now just don’t move your head, and I’ll be able to look you in the eyes throughout this whole ritual. Can you look into my eyes with the mirrors?”

Max easily kept his body frozen in shock. No one had grabbed his face like that before. He was always the one to overpowering others by grabbing at their necks and sinking his teeth into their flesh.  Max was used to handling people, vocally through motivational speeches and physical with his greater strength. He could easily use just one hand to control a person the way he wanted. But there was just no way he was used to others manhandling him. Max still felt the tingle of your small and smooth hands. He could feel and smell the sweet coconut oil that you had rubbed over your hands from earlier. He expected you to feel soft, but what he didn’t expect was to be grabbed and forced to act a certain way. Max Phillips had never felt so belittled in his life.

He glanced down at the mirror you were holding, seeing the reflection of the other mirror, and finally seeing straight into your eyes. They were patient yet serious. Max watched as your eyes seemed to search his even though you certainly couldn’t see a thing in the mirror. He glanced once up to your face and then looked back down to you through the mirrors.

“I see you. Now what?”

“Now you’re going to tie small simple knots into the yarn between us as I recite the chant.”

“We’re singing now? And cross stitching? Is this a new form of underwater basket weaving?”

“It’s to insure that our deal and relationship goes well.”

“Like a contract, I like to read the fine print before I sign.”

“All you have to do is tie the knots but maintain eye contact as much as possible. Got it?”

“Fine, but is this really necessary?” Max retorted as he began the first knot with his one free hand.

“You’re here, so you already agreed to it.” You stated as the vampire rolled his eyes.

“Start chanting then sweet tits.”

You cleared your throat and began.

“By knot one, the spell’s begun.”

“Spell?”

“By knot two, the potions will brew.”

“Wait was that a potion you drank?”

“By knot three, lets come to an agree.”

“Isn’t that the point of all this?”

“By knot four, our powers sore.”

“Where is this going?”

“By knot five, we will thrive.”

“Honestly making these tiny knots is hard.”

“By knot six, there’s blood to mix.”

“Finally.”

“By knot seven, now a future woven.”

“Is this literal or metaphorical?”

“By knot eight, here’s our fate.”

“Wait what now?”

“By knot nine, we are now divine.”

“Ok?” Max stared at you with raised eyebrows as he sealed the final knot. “And now?”

“Now I tie these two mirrors together, seal the yarn, and then bury them,” You chirped at Max as you grabbed the mirror from him. Facing the two mirrors to each other, you tied the black thread around the mirrors and then wrapped them in a cloth. With another length of black yarn, you tied the cloth closed and melted some red wax over the yarn knot. Max followed you as you trotted off to a small cleared out area of the garden that was overwhelmed with bushes full of blood red leaves and erupting patches of weeds and ground vines; all surrounded by several dark red, blue, and purple flowers. Some shaped in layers like roses, which honestly was the only kind of flower Max knew the name of, and others shapes in bushels of bells. He was tempted to reach out a touch the velvet petals of a marron flower with large dropping petals, when he suddenly remembered his experience in the conservatory.

“Those plants don’t bite. You can touch them.”

“You have some that do bite?” Max stopped in his tracks as he glanced about the garden.

“Of course, wouldn’t you love to see them? You have something in common after all,” you chuckled at him while digging a small hole with your garden shovel.

“I’m good,” Max eyed you as he pushed some dirt away from him with his shoe. “You need some weeding done.”

“If I do that, then I’ll have to start with you.”

Max shook his head as he stared at you, “That damn mouth on you today, there are better uses for it. More fun uses.”

“Poking fun of you is fun. But I’m bet your talking about something else. Let me take a guess of what the frat boy vamp is talking about.” You paused for a second to look at him, “Sucking?”

“Well, that’s an easy guess…” Max pouted as he watched you return to digging the hole.

“And you’re an expert on sucking, aren’t you?” The sarcasm coming out of you now was a bit off putting as Max was trying to navigate his way through this conversation, and this whole night. Wasn’t the night supposed to be for vampires? Lovers for sure, but that’s not what was going on here. You were prey and he was the predator…right? Why did he feel so done over by your newfound courage?

“I do know a thing or two.” Max returned to the conversation, trying to not miss a beat, as he lightly paced the garden.

You stared him straight into his eyes as you spoke, “And you could show me a thing or two, couldn’t you?”

Max stopped moving as his eyes shot wide open, “I mean, that can be arranged.”

You smiled sweetly at him, “Good I’ll need a few pointers when I take your blood.”

“Take my blood.” Max chuckled as he watched you place the clothed mirrors into the hole and bury them with a mix of seeds thrown into the soil. You made no attempt at continuing the conversation any further. You just stood up, brushed your hands off, and walked out of the garden, giving Max a pat on his shoulder with your leave. You were serious.

“TAKE MY BLOOD!”

Max was not a creature to be spooked. He was not someone to be intimidated. He had his shit together, he really did! But now, he was simply losing his shit. He sprinted after you back to the garden patio, where he grabbed your shoulders and spun you around to face him.

“You’re not a vampire?”

“Nope.”

“Chupacabra?”

“No.”

“A fucking leech?” Max accused you as he let you go and stepped back.

“What? No.”

“Well then what are you?”

“I’m a motherfucking witch, you bloodsucking bastard.” You spat at him with your hands at your hip. Max scoffed at you.

“I thought witches didn’t exist. They’re just some chakra obsessed, self-love reciting fab on Instagram.”

“Really? A vampire doesn’t believe in witches.”

“What? The pointy hats are so ugly, there’s no way someone would voluntarily wear one of those hats unless they lost their minds.”

You rolled your eyes at Max, “I’m curious to find out how many people are in those vampire internet cults and clubs. You know the ones where they get together, wear the plastic teeth and red contacts and drink from people’s palms.”

“Ok, point taken. We don’t need to go anywhere near that.” He slowly walked to the other side of the caldron and looked you up and down. “Have you cast a spell on me?”

“And if I did?”

Max hesitated, “Well I would like it to be undone.”

“As if you would know how to undo it.”

“I watched that whole ritual; I think I get magic now,” he said as he started fidgeting with his suit.

“Max. You didn’t even know I was a witch till I told you.”

“I’m a fast learner. But back to the blood deal. Maybe you can answer this simple question for me. Why do you need my blood? The deal was your blood so I wouldn’t bite any of your worker bees.” Max paused his fidgeting, “Is this going to be part of your magic?”

You let out an exasperated sigh, “Yes eventually it’ll be used for a spell. But I think—"

“I don’t like my blood being taken.” Max interrupted you with a stern look.

“I just need a small vial.”

“No definitely not happening.”

“It will only take a minute or less.”

“Too long.”

“It’ll be the same amount of blood they would take from you in the hospital.”

“I hated hospitals.”

“Are you scared of seeing blood?”

“No, blood I love. I’m fine with my blood, your blood, other people’s blood. It’s the fact that you’ll use it in a spell.”

You rolled your eyes, everyone was always so paranoid when they met a witch, “Sit down and relax Max. Why don’t you just go and breathe in the incense for a bit.”

“I don’t breathe.”

“Maybe you should, could help.”

Max considered you for a moment. You weren’t bothered by him as you where the day before. You even gave him a comforting smile as you presented a chair for him.

“Sit and I’ll talk.”

Max sat paranoid in the chair as you walked to around, relighting some of the incense sticks. Finally satisfied with the atmosphere, you sat down in the chair across from him. You breathed in a long breath and look at him expecting. He slumped down in his chair and shook his head no. You shook your head yes. Max ran his hands up and down the chair’s arms and glanced quickly through the forest. He saw rows and rows of trees around him. Heard the chatter of animals. No sign of a witch cult cornering him. The vampire drummed his fingers to the chair as he quizzically looked at you. You just sat there and smiled at him. Finally, he breathed, filling his lungs with lemon and lavender. His mind instantaneously was pleasantly overwhelmed with the reminder of the lemon squares his mother used to bake when he was a child. He held back a smile and gave you an expecting look.

“I’ll lay it all out for you. There are several uses for vampire blood. You can use it for renewal purposes, for health, for growth, for warding off unwanted visitors. There’s of course the use for immortality, and even death or hexes. I haven’t decided which one I’m leaning towards, but when I do find a use, I will tell you all about the spell I intend to use it for. I will even ask for your consent with the spell I have decided to create.”

“And if I say no?” Max inhaled again. Lavender. His bed sheets growing up used to smell of lavender, now he buys the scentless detergents. And that’s if he remembers to clean.

“We’ll negotiate. Don’t you like negotiating?”

“When I’m getting something out of it.” He leaned back into his chair.

“Well of course, I get your blood, you get mine. No blood from my employees though.”

“Your blood is that good?” Max felt his hunger creep in as he remembered what he was here for.

“You’ve never had witch’s blood before? The books tell me you’ll love it.”

“I’ll decide that on my own. So, if I agree, you take my blood, and I take yours. What happens if I don’t like your taste?”

“Then you can take your blood back, smash the vial, and our deal is over.”

“Deal over? So, your employees would be up for my hunt.”

“Sure, but don’t be surprised if your being hunted too,” You protested with a sly smile as your hand went to your spray bottle.  

“Ok, ok. I get it. Fine, let’s get this over with. My blood then yours.” Max stepped up and took off his jacket to roll up his sleeves.

You smiled as you grabbed your sharpened dagger and empty vial. Max watched you as you slowly walked over, swinging your hips with each step. He inhaled the air again. You were right, he was feeling relaxed, as well as feeling excited now. He sat back down in his chair and waited for your lead. You delicately took his hand in your small palm and held the dagger to his palm. Pausing, you looked up at him. He chuckled at the fact that you were still asking him if this is ok. Him, a big bad vampire, who’s seen gallons on gallons of blood before. Your hands were so small compared to his, so fragile compared to his strength. He could rip you in half, even rip that arm completely off and slurp your blood down like a milkshake. But he nodded for you to continue with a smile gracing his face.

You smiled back and sliced his palm open, glancing back to his face for any sign of pain only to see him smiling at you still. Slowly you kept the dagger to his open wound, making sure he wouldn’t heal right away. With your free hand you grabbed your vial and held it to his palm, collecting his deep crimson blood into the vial. As you had said, it didn’t take long to fill, and Max watched you release his hand and close the vial of blood with a cork. Carefully, you placed the vial and dagger into a chest and turned towards him. It was his turn.

Max beckoned you to him with his finger signaling come hither. Normally people would be reprehensive to voluntarily walk over to a vampire, fully knowing what was about to happen. But you just weren’t scared of him. You looked curious and eager as you just about sprang over and into his lap. That wasn’t exactly how he thought this would go, but then again, the whole night had been a surprise. Honestly, you had been a surprise since he had first laid eyes on you. Here you were on his lap and in his arms as you arranged your hair to be out of the way of your neck. Max stared at you wide eyed, everything was unexpected but not unwelcomed. You lifted your eyebrows at him.

“Ready sugar lips?” you mocked him.

Max chuckled and quickly answered with his hand craning you head further out. He grasped your face with one hand and wrapped his arm around your middle, locking you to him. Max honestly appreciated the fact that you didn’t even squirm when you had zero ability to move. He appreciated the fact that you were so willing to stick to this deal and trusting of him to stick to it as well.

Trailing his nose up your neck, Max stopped at the juncture near your jaw. He laid once chaste kiss to your neck, one that made you stop breathing as if to question him what he had done when you quickly felt the prick of sharp teeth digging into your flesh. Max sensed your body stiffen at the initial sting, maybe he should have warned you about the pain but wasn’t that obvious? He quickly drank in your blood so that he could get you through the pain and feel the euphoria of the connection. Max himself wanted to get to his own euphoria as he started to get the first hints of earthy herbs and sweet syrup you had from your drink earlier. Then there’s a burst of energy. Max felt wide awake as he tasted the rays of the sun seeping into the ground and running through ancient vines rising high to the sky. He felt any disdain or weariness he had for day walking melt away from him. Max cupped you closer and he chased the taste of whatever you had been drinking earlier until he was shocked and dumbfounded by what he tasted next.

Deeper within your blood, Max felt the sparkle and slow burn of candles dancing with the winds, unfazed by their harsh push and accepting of the constant directional change. He tasted the years of old growth trees covering tombs of forgotten and discarded lives of past generations, the worn rock graves beloved by warding giants. There your blood brought him back to the steady mist over a lake. Quiet and calm. Foggy and ever turning. But above all that, he tasted the pulse of stars. Beyond Max’s grasp, was something everlasting but so quiet. He felt it was immense, yet it beckoned him to take hold of it. The pulsing glimmer and shine radiated through Max with every drop of your blood, causing him to freeze. He wanted to chase that radiance but was losing himself in your space. He slowly took his lips off of your neck, only a hair away from you, and gave your wound one lick so it could properly heal. Max watched it carefully till it fully closed, unable, and unwilling to let go of you. He slowly savored the taste of you as he brought your face to his. You looked at him with questioning eyes as he looked at you with obsession. A minute passed as you remembered to breathe and as Max completely stopped.

“What was that drink you made?” Max murmured.

“It’s a fearlessness elixir. Did you taste it?”

“That and then some. Tasted good.” Max’s hands slowly slide up and down your back.

“Told you,” You giggled as your arms held on to his shoulders.

Max smiled, “Your pretty good with mixology, aren’t you?”

“Herbology, horticulture, and mixology for potions, elixirs, and brews.”

“Are you about to give me a whole elevator pitch?”

“No need, we already made the deal.”

Max swiped at his lips with his tongue while you watched. Neither of you moved or looked away from each other as the moon seemed to past further through the sky. This was an already very beneficial and appealing deal. One he would savor every drop.