she was always thirsty, desperately so. She could feel her cracked lips, her sticky throat. All she wanted was water. Instead, some other liquid, hot and thick and coppery, filled her mouth. It was nasty. She spat it out.
She had no sense of time passing, but the thirst grew stronger. Eventually, she drank the awful liquid. After a while, she learned to tolerate the cloying taste, and then like it, crave it. It became her whole world, waiting for that taste, gulping it down as fast as she could, feeling it drizzle down her chin.
The voice sounded pleased.
Tanya could feel herself pulling together, each tiny piece dragging her back into something that made sense. She was still very tired, could not even think of opening her eyes. But she could feel her body once more.
She awoke slowly, like on a lazy Saturday morning. Distantly she wondered what she had eaten to give her such weird dreams. She made to turn over and burrow under the covers, but something pulling on her arm kept her from moving.
Then she realized that she was upright, not laying down in her bed. She opened her eyes, then screwed them shut again at the bright light that stabbed into her head. Groaning, she tried again to open them just a crack.
"Tatiana?" the familiar voice said, and with understanding came recognition: Seth. "Are you awake?" he sounded strangely ecstatic. She heard his quick footsteps heading away, and then the light in the room dimmed considerably, so she pried her eyes open.
She felt oddly light, and hyper-aware of everything around her. Seth came into crystal-clear focus as he walked back towards her. "You are awake. At last." He pushed a few strands of hair out of her face and smiled like she was the most beautiful, incredible thing he had ever seen.
That was enough to distract her for a moment, until she realized why she was vertical: her arms had been tied to a horizontal pole, effectively keeping her upright even while she was unconscious. She tugged at the bindings, panicking, and then froze at the wash of sensation, at the feel of the fabric of her shirt as it moved across her skin. She could feel every single fiber and thread. Looking down, it occurred to her that while the clothes she was wearing did belong to her, they were not the clothes she had last been wearing.
Panic and dread filled her. "What did you do to me?" she croaked. Had he drugged her tea? What was he going to...
"I have freed you," he said gently as he began to untie her from the pole.
It took her a moment to realize he wasn't describing his current actions. "From what?" she asked.
Once Seth had finished untying her, and she stood wavering on her own two feet, he looked her in the eyes and said, "From time."
Tanya stood there, frowning, and then slowly remembered what had happened. How he had changed, one minute a harmless geeky professor, and then the next, her worst nightmare. What he had said before she passed out. We will speak again when you rise.
"No," she whispered before she had even fully figured it out. "Oh, god, no...." She looked down at her hands, which no longer showed all the little scars she had collected over the last few years of fighting. "Oh please, no...." She looked back to Seth, hoping he would tell her she was wrong.
He just smiled. "Oh, yes. Have a look for yourself," he gestured to the wall, where a huge decorative mirror hung.
She turned and looked. Even from across the room she could see every last detail, how her hair, once a subdued auburn, was now flame red with copper highlights and deep russet undertones. Her eyes, which had always been a sort of muddy hazel, were now apple green with brown and gold flecks. Her skin was perfect, free of the lingering acne that had bothered her since high school. The freckles remained, standing out against her delicate, cream-colored cheeks. Even her body had changed, she thought she looked thinner, more muscular, and yet her curves were more generous.
In the reflection, she could see Seth come up behind her, smiling, and saw the difference in him as well. He looked a little younger, early thirties at the oldest. He had changed his unkempt sable black hair. Now it curled perfectly in a look which, if not quite fashionable, suited him exactly. He put a hand on her shoulder and whispered, "See how beautiful I have made you?"
Tanya whirled to punch him, or at least she tried. Instead she overbalanced, tripping on her own feet and nearly falling over.
"Careful," Seth warned, catching her in his too-swift hands. "You will need some time to get used to your new body."
She tried to punch him again, and he easily dodged it. Shoving at him, she managed to escape his grasp, but her legs tangled up and she tripped. The cold concrete bit into her palms and she gasped, scrambling to get up. Instead she just flailed helplessly. The sounds of her struggle seemed impossibly loud, and her own heartbeat pounded in her ears. Every time she moved the clothes she wore dragged against her skin. It was too much, she couldn't think, couldn't breathe, and it seemed like the world was crashing down on her.
Suddenly, Tanya was engulfed in darkness, something wrapping around her tightly. She panicked more, fighting against it.
"Shh, Tatiana, it's all right, calm down," she could hear Seth's muffled voice, and it had the opposite effect he intended, making her gasp desperately for air.
Then a strange sensation washed over her, as if she were detached from her body again. She could still feel everything, could feel too much, but she stopped moving, and that helped. Her breathing evened out, stayed steady, and she became aware that the darkness around her was a soft, black blanket that Seth had wrapped her in.
"Listen to my voice," he said slowly, and her heartbeat shifted to align with the rhythm of his words. "You are safe, Tatiana. No one will hurt you. Focus on the feel of the blanket, on its texture," he ordered.
Without thinking, she did as he said. It was soft, some kind of fleece or maybe microfiber, warm and yet thin enough that she could breathe through it easily.
"Now focus on the way it smells," he suggested.
She did. It smelled very faintly like flowers. Lavender, maybe? It was a good smell, and it calmed her further.
"It's all right, you are safe," he repeated. "No one will hurt you."
"You hurt me," she managed to say, tears spilling down her face. They burned against her skin. "You... you turned me into a vampire."
"Yes, I did."
"How could you?! Why?!" she demanded through the blanket.
Seth sighed, and she could feel it as his arms tightened slightly around her, could feel his breath ruffling the blanket. "If you have calmed down, I will let you out and tell you," he said. "But you must try to stay calm, or you will have another panic attack.”
"Okay," she lied—anything to get him away. Beyond her detachment she could still feel the strong impulse to escape, like she was a rabbit caught in a trap.
Slowly, she seemed to come back into her body, and he unwrapped the blanket. As soon as she could move her arms, Tanya reached up and scrubbed the tears away. When he pulled the blanket off her head, she realized that she was sitting, balled up, in his lap. She tried to move away, but he held on tightly.
"Stay," he ordered, and she glared at him, but didn't try to get away again. He would only stop her, she could tell.
They
