The Blood of the Soul

Echoes of the Past

A/N: Please note that this chapter has a lot of dark and sad themes including death, brief mention of suicidal ideation, grief, gore? and violence. Please be gentle with yourselves <3

A/N: Also, the flashbacks are identified in italics.

Fifteen Years Earlier

The crisp winter air didn't affect Theo the way it had when he was human. Back then, he would've braced against the cold wind and snapped at anyone that looked at him wrong.

Now, he was irritable for a whole host of other reasons.

"I feel a bit like a serial killer being taken out for his daily walks," Theo remarked.

Tara shoved her shoulder into his, and he nearly skidded off the slick, ice coated sidewalk. "Think of it more like, you're slowly being reintegrated into normal life."

"Because that's so much better."

Tara tugged him along by the hand. Ever since she'd coaxed Doug into turning him, Theo had struggled with, well, almost every aspect of being a vampire. The eternal cold that lingered beneath his skin, the way he couldn't read a book in the sunlight, the fact that even his favorite food tasted like ash. The unequivocal bloodlust.

A few weeks ago, Tara had caught him bringing home blood bags from his residency at the hospital, and after she'd pried it out of him that every time he took a life, he wished he was the one who would die, Tara had taken pity on him.

"Hunting doesn't have to be black and white." Tara guided him toward a more crowded part of town.

Theo's skin was already humming at the sheer proximity of all these people. The blood running through their veins beckoned to him.

"Easy for you to say," Theo muttered.

"You have to remember that our bite gives humans a high. They won't know what's happened until the next morning, if they ever remember anything at all."

Theo understood that his sister was trying to make him feel better, but it wasn't working. His heart twisted in his chest. "Is that how you felt?" he asked. "Before Doug turned you? Is that why you kept coming back to him?"

Tara squeezed his hand. "I kept going back because I made better money in one day with Doug than I did in a whole week at the restaurant."

As much as Theo wanted to believe her, he had a sinking feeling that she was doing what she'd always done. Protecting him from the worst of it.

"All you have to do is take a taste, and then stop. Just be careful not to take too much," Tara said. "You can do this, T. I promise."

Her belief in him was enough that Theo offered a small smile. She led him to the last place he'd ever expect to feed on humans—a club.

The booming music was almost unbearable to his supernatural ears, but once he'd adjusted to it, the beat of the music moving through him was addictive.

Tara's hand slipped out of his as she wove through the crowd, moving to the music and quickly drawing the attention of a few nearby men and women.

Her mouth formed a word that he couldn't hear over the music, but he didn't have to hear it to know that she wanted him to dance. To blend in, probably, but he'd been too sick to even attend school dances, let alone sneak out to a club with his friends. Theo tried to move with the music, but he didn't have the faintest idea what to do with his hands.