The Donor House: Ivy: Kidnapped (part 2)

[k_a_webb]

Part 1

“I don’t want you to look after me,” Ivy snarled, letting the anger out finally. “I want you to let me go home.”

Angel smiled. “You really want to go home? We both know what it’s like for you at home and that’s why I decided on you, Ivy. I can make your life better if you let me.”

Ivy shook her head, unable to believe what she’d just heard. “You were watching me?”

“Stupidity is how vampires get killed. I’m not stupid, so yes, I was watching you. You caught my eye a long time ago, when I saw you crying in a parking lot, and I had a feeling that things weren’t good for you, that crying in a parking lot was normal, and it made me want to help you.” Angel shrugged. “I could have done this the hard way, told you what I was, and convinced you that life with me was going to be better than life at home. By then you might have been dead, so I chose to do it this way.”

“Angel…” Ivy rubbed her forehead with her hand as she slumped into a sitting position, her back against the wall. “Do you know how much I want to hate you?”

“Of course I do. This isn’t the first time I’ve done this and it won’t be the last. Not when there are people out there who need my help.”

“Equal opportunity kidnapper?”

“That’s one way of putting it.” Angel sat down opposite Ivy. “I’m pansexual, so I fall in love. It doesn’t matter what gender the person is – once I’m in love with them that’s it and it’s not unusual for someone to look at me with disgust when I tell them how I feel about them. Normally it’s men, but women do it as well, when they realise what I am, because they don’t want a vampire to be in love with them.” He shrugged. “There was a time when I really wished I could change that about myself. Now I’ve come to accept it and it still hurts when someone doesn’t feel the same way about me, but it’s easier to let go of.”

“Are you trying to make me feel sorry for you?”

“No, Ivy, I’m trying to explain the choices I make. I am a vampire. I have to feed. I could, if I wanted, feed from animals, but I don’t want to. I want to drink human blood, because it sates me for longer and means I don’t come home covered in mud, cold, and feeling very much like I just wasted three hours on nothing, as I’d just have to go out again the next night and do exactly the same thing. For others I’m sure it’s much easier. Personally I prefer being able to feed from a human once every three days, before spending the rest of my time doing things that I actually enjoy.”

“Like stalking your victims.”

“I wasn’t stalking you. Stalking involves more stalkiness. I just checked in on you once a week to see how things were going, hoping that you might have got yourself out of that situation, only to find that it was getting worse.”

Mirrored from K. A. Jones Writing.

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