Chapter 226: Cloverleaf- Part 1

After entering the room, Calhoun closed the door. He got to his bed without bothering to remove the shoes. With one leg folded up to have his foot placed on the surface of the bed and the right leg outstretched, where the shoe touched the edge of the bed, Calhoun stared at the ceiling of his bed.

The day had been far more eventful than what he had expected it to be. Not only he had taken blood from Madeline, but he had taken her to meet his mother.

It has been years since he had last seen his mother's face. Even though where she was resting now was close by, Calhoun had not gone to open the lid of the cemented grave where his mother laid dead and cold. Her body had been preserved in the coffin, but the pain he felt of what took place in the night when he had killed her, still lingered in the back of his mind.

She looked the same as the day when she had died. Or maybe in a much better condition, where she was not wheezing and spouting blood from her mouth. On the day of her death, his mother had turned to almost like a corpse. Her cheeks had turned hollow and her eyes had dark circles, making her look older and tired.

The fireplace was burning in low flame, and the candles that were placed on the stand continued to melt in time while Calhoun continued to stare into space. His red eyes were vacant, and the smile that he often adorned on his lips had disappeared. After a while, when Calhoun closed his eyes, his thoughts drifted into the dream, to relive the memories of the past.

Unlike the current weather, it was a rainy day in the land of Devon. Rain poured down from the sky while splashes of water could be heard as men ran on the ground.

"Where is he?!" asked a man who stopped running, looking to his left and right, searching for the person. The man wore clothes that were entirely black. There were badges on his chest to indicate that he was bestowed by the royal court for his commendable works. "He should be somewhere close by! Make sure to drag and bring him to me!"

"Sir!" came the collective voices from the other six men who had accompanied the man who ordered them.

"Everyone split up!" came the next order and the men dispersed from there.

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At the corner of one of the houses, a young man stood, holding his stomach, which was bleeding. He huffed for air. His clothes and body were drenched because of the rain, washing away the traces of blood that had dripped down from cuts from his head and mouth. Calhoun took a deep breath before opening the coat to take a look at the side of his stomach which was bleeding even now.

The house near where he had taken shelter at, a woman stepped out of the house as if ready to leave with her umbrella. But after seeing a strange man who was standing there with blood that started to show up on his face because of the lack of rain to wash it away, the woman's eyes widened, and she shut the door right away. Calhoun heard the click of the lock as if the woman was securing her house from him.

Calhoun hadn't expected something like this to happen. He gritted his teeth. The wound that was on his stomach was one where one of the men had gone as far as to stake him with a hot iron rod.

The rain again continued to pour, and Calhoun didn't stay there. He escaped from there so that he wouldn't be caught by the men who were sent by someone who he knew. The rain had almost stopped, leaving drizzle in the air by the time he had made his way into another village.

He was on his way to the castle earlier when he was chased by seven men who had caught him off guard. Off guard, because he knew them. He had met and spoken with them in the past. Initially, there were ten people, and after fighting, the count had fallen to seven.

When he stepped into an empty alley between the houses, Calhoun finally stopped walking. His legs gave out, and he eventually took himself to sit on the muddy ground. Calhoun noticed how blood dripped down from his leg that was wounded. His head leaned back against the wall, and he closed his eyes, taking a breather and away from the royal court. He knew the men were possibly still looking for him.

He was sitting there, concentrating on his wounds to heal when he heard a small sound that approached his way. At first, Calhoun guessed it to be a cat or a rat that was searching for food behind the houses. It was because the sound was light on the ground and the sound of water splashing was not heard.

The sound stopped right in front of him. Calhoun opened his eyes out of annoyance to see who had come to bother him. His eyes fell on a small girl who stood to his side, staring at him. It was a little girl who wore clothes that weren't expensive but one that was worn by the villagers. The dress that she wore was large for her small size, as her hands almost disappeared because of the long sleeves.

She continued to stare at him curiously, without walking past and minding her work.

"Haven't you heard not to speak to strangers and to run away from them?" Calhoun asked the girl. Instead of answering, she blinked her eyes once. Humans were creatures who were curious, willing to sacrifice themselves as food for the vampires.

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His hand reached up to touch the wound, running his tongue over the sore and metallic taste at the corner of his lips, Calhoun looked at her. By her awkward stance and one hand in front of her chest, he could tell that the little girl was wary about her surroundings, but not enough to run away from him. Calhoun was hungry, and he needed blood. He had lost blood from his body.

Calhoun could feel his fangs ache because he wanted blood right now. It didn't matter to him if it was an adult or a child.

He raised his hand forward, "Come here," but his words only created an opposite effect. The girl took a step back, and Calhoun's eyes narrowed. Maybe he was harsher. Trying it again, he said, "Come here, little girl. Let me see what you have in that hand of yours," his words were sweeter and kinder than before.

He could hear her little heart beating in her chest. It sounded wonderful because he knew she would taste good. Children were young and pure; they were nothing less than a delicious meal. There were some rotten apples, but most of them were always delicious. Thinking about it, it only made Calhoun more thirsty. He didn't have the time to go back to the castle.

Calhoun's red eyes stared at the girl's face and then at her hand when she looked down at her hand. They were loosely clenched, and when she brought it forward, letting it open, he saw it was a four-clover leaf.

"Hah," Calhoun responded, looking at the leaf and then up at the girl, "Do you believe in that thing?" he asked her. He doubted if the little girl understood in the depth of what luck meant.

The little girl slowly nodded her head.

"How lucky are you to be meeting someone who is at the peak of hunger," murmured Calhoun looking at the girl who didn't quite catch what he said. "Why don't I take a look at the leaf? It seems like it's not working well for you. I will return it to you," he added in the end. The children of vampires were often smart, while the human children were naive and easy to trick.

Calhoun could hear her heart pumping blood, he wanted to catch hold of her, draining her blood into his mouth until the very last drop. His thirst for blood was increasing, and she was the only possible meal right now where he wouldn't be being caught and being too obvious about his kill.

Just like he thought, the girl took five small steps towards him, holding the cloverleaf for him to take.

Calhoun could feel his fangs tingle now. With his mouth closed, his tongue went to run over the tips of his fangs as if polishing it, so that he could bite. His eyes turned redder.

He was waiting for her to get closer so that the taste of her blood would not change out of panic and struggle. Calhoun then inspected the cloverleaf.

"Humans can be so silly at times, believing in things like these," commented Calhoun to the little girl. The leaf she had plucked out was fresh, and it looked tender. Such a pity that the luck would not favour the girl today.

He played with the cloverleaf by twirling it. Before he could pull her towards him to take a bite into her neck, the girl surprised him. She moved closer and placed her hand with her handkerchief on his mouth. Calhoun raised his eyebrows at this,

"What do you think you are doing?" Calhoun asked over the handkerchief, his eyes narrowing to look at her. The girl still carried a cautious look, but she had been brave enough to put her handkerchief on his mouth.

This was the first time a meal of his was offering to clean his mouth before he could drink blood, but he doubted that was the case in here. Her brown eyes looked at his red eyes, a little more than mesmerized by the rare colour which the little girl was not used to seeing.

"Hurt," she spoke with her small voice for the very first time.

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