Adrian replied
matter-of-factly. "Did you need blood as well?"
Diandra chewed at her bottom lip with a canine.
"Well," she started to say, then stopped and shook her head.
"No, I should be fine for another few days at the least."
Adrian grinned at her. "But if you have a ready,
willing and able donor right here on the premises, why not take advantage of
the fact?" Without another word he went back to the kitchen. A moment
later the smell of fresh blood reached her nose and she fought to keep her
canines from lengthening into fangs. It was a losing battle, but she tried for
more self-control. She feared the day someone was hurt near her if she couldn't
control herself better than this.
Adrian returned to the dining room with a glass in his hand.
It was much larger than the usual goblet, and Diandra's felt her eyes widen in
surprise. "You needn't give that much, you know. I can get by on a lot
less."
"Perhaps," he said, walking over to RaeLynn. He
removed the paper towels he had pressed to the wound, and the baby touched her
hand to his wrist. In seconds he was healed, and the flesh was unmarked as if
there hadn't been a gaping cut moments before in that same spot. He kissed the
top of her head and tickled her under the chin before standing up to throw away
the wad of paper towels. "But why should you, I ask again? If I'm able to,
why not let me keep you strong?"
"The point is this- what if something happens to you?
What if you leave? I need to be able to survive long enough without the blood
in case of emergency. I need to learn to control my baser instincts,"
Diandra said, even as she took a deep sip from the glass.
"You complicate your life unnecessarily, do you know
that?" Adrian asked.
Dia felt compelled to defend herself, even knowing the
question was rhetorical. "Perhaps, but I also prefer not to borrow
trouble. I've had more than enough trouble in the last year and a half or so.
Why take unnecessary risks? I'd rather complicate my life than bumble along
feeling safe and secure and risk losing everything. I've already had fate slap
me around once. I'd prefer it to not be my own stupidity that causes it if it's
to happen again," she replied.
"I can't fault your logic, but I'd hate to see you
become a fatalist because of your past."
Dia shook her head. "No, I'm not a fatalist. I'm a
realist, and it's about time I've become one." She'd finished her platter
while talking, hardly aware she was even eating. She took the last sip out of
the glass and finished off the blood with a gulp of rapidly cooling coffee. She
wiped her lips with a napkin, stood up, and brushed invisible crumbs off her
robe. "So introduce me to your altar. I'm ready to know more."
Adrian studied her, his lips pursed. Finally he nodded and
stood up as well. "All right, follow me," he said, leading the way
towards his quarters. She drew in a deep breath at the sight of his altar, a
large wooden table positioned where an entertainment unit and television would
normally be stationed. Candles stood in taper holders, unlit but partially
melted from previous use. It was laid out beautifully, and she felt herself
soften as the magic that filled the room entered her body and calmed her
minutely.
Adrian walked over to his altar and picked up a large chunk
of what appeared to be carved wood from the front center of the altar.
"This is an athame- a ritual knife."
Diandra cut in. "It's a piece of wood. How can it cut
anything?"
"It's meant to figuratively cut, not literally. It's
consecrated, ready to draw magick circles and cut images in the air. Mine is
cut from the willow tree, and the designs cut into it- two crescent moons
flanking a full moon- is meant to represent the Goddess. The tree is a symbol
of the Goddess, creativity, fertility, and intuition. I find the most peace
using a willow athame for ritual magick," Adrian said. "Most of my
personal magick is focused of love and healing, so you'll find my tools are
geared towards items with those
matter-of-factly. "Did you need blood as well?"
Diandra chewed at her bottom lip with a canine.
"Well," she started to say, then stopped and shook her head.
"No, I should be fine for another few days at the least."
Adrian grinned at her. "But if you have a ready,
willing and able donor right here on the premises, why not take advantage of
the fact?" Without another word he went back to the kitchen. A moment
later the smell of fresh blood reached her nose and she fought to keep her
canines from lengthening into fangs. It was a losing battle, but she tried for
more self-control. She feared the day someone was hurt near her if she couldn't
control herself better than this.
Adrian returned to the dining room with a glass in his hand.
It was much larger than the usual goblet, and Diandra's felt her eyes widen in
surprise. "You needn't give that much, you know. I can get by on a lot
less."
"Perhaps," he said, walking over to RaeLynn. He
removed the paper towels he had pressed to the wound, and the baby touched her
hand to his wrist. In seconds he was healed, and the flesh was unmarked as if
there hadn't been a gaping cut moments before in that same spot. He kissed the
top of her head and tickled her under the chin before standing up to throw away
the wad of paper towels. "But why should you, I ask again? If I'm able to,
why not let me keep you strong?"
"The point is this- what if something happens to you?
What if you leave? I need to be able to survive long enough without the blood
in case of emergency. I need to learn to control my baser instincts,"
Diandra said, even as she took a deep sip from the glass.
"You complicate your life unnecessarily, do you know
that?" Adrian asked.
Dia felt compelled to defend herself, even knowing the
question was rhetorical. "Perhaps, but I also prefer not to borrow
trouble. I've had more than enough trouble in the last year and a half or so.
Why take unnecessary risks? I'd rather complicate my life than bumble along
feeling safe and secure and risk losing everything. I've already had fate slap
me around once. I'd prefer it to not be my own stupidity that causes it if it's
to happen again," she replied.
"I can't fault your logic, but I'd hate to see you
become a fatalist because of your past."
Dia shook her head. "No, I'm not a fatalist. I'm a
realist, and it's about time I've become one." She'd finished her platter
while talking, hardly aware she was even eating. She took the last sip out of
the glass and finished off the blood with a gulp of rapidly cooling coffee. She
wiped her lips with a napkin, stood up, and brushed invisible crumbs off her
robe. "So introduce me to your altar. I'm ready to know more."
Adrian studied her, his lips pursed. Finally he nodded and
stood up as well. "All right, follow me," he said, leading the way
towards his quarters. She drew in a deep breath at the sight of his altar, a
large wooden table positioned where an entertainment unit and television would
normally be stationed. Candles stood in taper holders, unlit but partially
melted from previous use. It was laid out beautifully, and she felt herself
soften as the magic that filled the room entered her body and calmed her
minutely.
Adrian walked over to his altar and picked up a large chunk
of what appeared to be carved wood from the front center of the altar.
"This is an athame- a ritual knife."
Diandra cut in. "It's a piece of wood. How can it cut
anything?"
"It's meant to figuratively cut, not literally. It's
consecrated, ready to draw magick circles and cut images in the air. Mine is
cut from the willow tree, and the designs cut into it- two crescent moons
flanking a full moon- is meant to represent the Goddess. The tree is a symbol
of the Goddess, creativity, fertility, and intuition. I find the most peace
using a willow athame for ritual magick," Adrian said. "Most of my
personal magick is focused of love and healing, so you'll find my tools are
geared towards items with those
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