Savor

S
avor

Warm Delicacy Series, Book 1

By Megan Duncan

All Rights Reserved.

Copyright © 2011 by Megan Duncan

First Edition: August 2011

This is a work of fiction.  Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.  The author holds exclusive rights to this work.  Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.

For information:

http://meganduncan.blogspot.com/

Savor (Warm Delicacy Series, Book 1)

As always, for my family, whose unwavering support, and love makes all things possible. 

Thank you for encouraging my imagination, and never telling me I can’t. 

I love you all.

As much as I had been dreaming about this day, I had been dreading it just as much. I knew my mom would say I was over reacting, but I didn’t want to spend any part of my birthday getting poked and prodded. “Why can’t turning eighteen just be about celebrating?” I asked my fat, orange cat, Louie, as he bathed himself on my bed. 

I gave Louie a good scratch before I hopped out of bed and headed to my closet. I wanted to make sure I looked great in my picture; otherwise I would never hear the end of it from my best friend, Liz.

She spent a record four hours and countless wardrobe changes before we were able to nail down the perfect outfit, hair and makeup combination. As annoying as that day was, I had to admit, she did look great in her picture ID.

So, here I stood in front of my closet with no clue as to what I should wear. I pulled out the fanciest clothes I owned, but sent them flying to the bed behind me, which in turn sent Louie running away with a meow.

I glanced over at my desk and stared at the pile of clothes draped over the back of the chair. Liz had brought over a number of items, which I would describe as risqué, but she would call simply her everyday clothes. I thought they were a bit flashy, but Liz had an eye for fashion and was known in our group of friends to be an “H to T” girl. No matter what the circumstance, she was always perfectly put together from head to toe. She said she hated the term, but I could tell she relished the fact that people thought of her that way and she only pretended to be modest.

We were an odd couple, she and I, but we had known each other our whole lives. With moms who were too busy to notice much of anything we did, and dads that were out of the picture, we quickly bonded as if we were sisters.

I soon decided to save the fashion options Liz had given me for later that night, and slipped on my favorite pair of jeans with a simple black tank top.  Less was more, right?

“Hurry it up, Claire! I want to get there before it gets too busy.” My mom’s muffled voice echoed from down the hallway to my bedroom. I was starting to think that she was more excited about me getting a Donor ID than the fact that I had turned eighteen.

I knew how important it was to have that identification, because everyone who was anyone got one when they turned eighteen. It was a vital part of our society. So, naturally I didn’t feel it was a very big deal. Everyone with a Donor ID would have their blood tested for the specific type, the quality, any diseases they might have, and the mineral content, among other things. Once they had all this information, a Donor ID was issued, specifying the necessary information.

Having this identification required that I donate blood on a regular basis to the blood bank, which in turn, prepared the blood for the reigning vampire royal family in our region. Since the royals lived in my city, all the blood banks were stricter about everyone getting their Donor identifications as soon as they turned eighteen. There were those who refused, and those individuals were charged a hefty tax for their lack of fealty.

It was probably a lot more complicated than that, but I didn’t pay as much attention in school as I should have. Taking a class on the rules, regulations and structure of the vampire monarchy was a required course and even with my limited knowledge, I managed to pass.

Society saw so little of the vampires who belonged to the royal families. They had grown into more of a reclusive celebrity type, but still functioned as our rulers. They controlled our government, managed our laws and protected us. All they asked in return was a blood donation. I thought our forefathers made a pretty good deal with the vampires and it had worked quite well for the past few hundred years.

So, in a nutshell, that was my plan for my eighteenth birthday. I would make my first donation to the vampire family, get my Donor ID, and then it was my time to party.

I rushed down the stairs, taking two steps at a time, and stopped at a mirror in the living room to look at my reflection. I smiled at myself for having remembered the tips Liz gave me for styling my hair and appreciated my new, less-frizzy hairdo.

My mom was perched at the kitchen counter, leaning on her massive brown purse and watching the news on a tiny television. The news anchor reported on a group of picketers that were protesting outside of a blood bank.  Not everyone liked the idea of having to donate their blood to feed vampires, calling them monsters and other foul names.

“How can you watch that junk?” I asked her as I flipped the television off.

“Can you believe those people? I can’t imagine what anyone has to complain about. They’re lucky we aren’t still living in the dark ages when vampires used to hunt people down and slaughter them like cattle.”

I didn’t say anything because I knew if I replied, I would send her off on some endless tangent about how we should be so grateful to the vampires for civilizing our region, for showing mercy, and blah, blah, blah. My mom was well known for her support of the blood donation system, which was probably why she was so eager to have me get my ID so quickly. Every city in our region had set up a committee to encourage support of the vampires, as well as enlist new donors. They spread the word of our valiant and brave leader, King Nicolae Noire, who salvaged our region from the ashes of the dark ages. My mom was the head of the committee in our city.

“You all set?” She grabbed the keys and started for the door.

“Yeah, I think so. How long do you think this is going to take?” I asked.

“As long as it takes. Why? Do you have something you need to do?”

“Well, yeah, Mom. It’s my birthday. I wanted to hang out with Liz and my friends.” 

“You’ll have plenty of time to do that tonight. Okay?”

I again chose not to respond and simply followed my mom as we walked briskly to the train station a few blocks from the house. As always, she commented on how convenient the train was, and how much the vampires had improved our way of life with such renovations. If I didn’t know better, I would think she was brainwashed, but I suppose being the head of the vampire committee might make a person a little more wrapped up in every detail of what vampires had accomplished.

My mom used to make me go with her on weekends, walking door-to-door, handing out pamphlets and trying to recruit unregistered humans to get their Donor IDs. More often than not, we would simply get a door slammed in our faces, but she never gave up trying.

The trains where we lived in midtown were much nicer than the ones we used to take when we went, (what I liked to call) “preaching”.

We walked through the toll booths and stood on the platform amidst the morning rush of people. There were people carrying briefcases, others holding onto fussy children, people soliciting this or that, vendors hawking coffee or vampire memorabilia, and teenagers, obviously headed home after a night of partying which made me want to get this whole ID business swiftly over with, so I could do some partying of my own.

The train arrived after a short wait and we clamored in with the rest of the crowd make our way uptown. My mom clicked away on her phone, checking emails and the news, or planning something to counter the protestors outside the blood bank, I was sure of it.

Our stop was right outside the blood bank in uptown. My mom insisted we go to this one and I soon noticed why. Everything in uptown was prettier and just plain better because the rich people really did know a thing or two about architecture. A tall, cylinder-shaped structure with small windows evenly surrounding it towered over me. Right next to it, was a pyramid-shaped building made out of glass. As we strode up the hedged walkway, I surveyed the landscape. All of the bushes were trimmed perfectly and beautiful fragrant flowers bordered a collection of unique stone statues that I noticed were of vampire royal family members of the past.

They looked very regal, gazing down at people who made their way into the blood bank. Each statue had a plaque providing a brief history of that specific vampire. There were a few people who stopped to read the passages and some who even took time to have their photo taken with one of the statues.

I instantly realized that reading about the vampires in school and seeing this place in person were two quite different things. The awe and beauty of it really did put things into perspective. Everyone looked so happy and I felt a little ashamed for being so put out about having to spend a small portion of my birthday here.

A cute guy held the door open for us as we made our way through the entry doors and I couldn’t help but return his smile. My mom grabbed a pamphlet from him hand and handed it to me. Once inside the huge glass building, I was again awestruck at the magnificence of the large, tinted windows that softened the bright sunlight from outside, allowing a jungle of tropical plants to thrive inside. A large fountain bubbled in the center of the room, covered in an intricately tiled mosaic. Each appeared meticulously placed to achieve the full beauty of its design. I peered in as we walked around it and saw the bottom of the fountain was speckled with coins.

“Some people believe that if you toss in a coin, King Nicolae Noire will make your wish come true,” my mom said as she pointed to a skillfully painted portrait of the eldest and leader of the vampire family, with a lilt in her voice. I nodded at her and watched a young couple toss in a coin. I made a mental note to flip one in before we left, and make a birthday wish.

We were checked in by a friendly receptionist who wore a simple white dress with a square-cut collar. I soon realized that was the uniform for all the ladies who worked at the blood bank. The men, however, wore white pants with white shirts that looked similar to tunics. Although it was an odd choice of clothing, (and I’m sure Liz could give me an earful on everything that was wrong with their attire), it looked good. The minimalist style of the employees’ uniforms really made the grandeur of the décor stand out.

“I told you it wasn’t going to be that bad.” My mom pinched my arm as we made our way to a waiting area.             

“It’s not what I expected at all. I thought it was going to be some sterile-smelling, hospital-type building, but this…this is like a hotel.”

“They really do have an eye for opulence, don’t they?” she beamed.

As I looked around the room, slack-jawed, I admired more of the style and noted other teenagers looking anxious to get their IDs. There were other people that I guessed were making their donations and several with clean, white bandages on their arms. They didn’t look the least put out after making their donations and were comfortably standing around, looking at the portraits and artwork that lined the walls, enjoying the elegance of it. 

A large television was anchored to a far wall, and it scrolled names and numbers. As a new name appeared on the screen, someone would get up and head through a set of double doors designated
Donations.

“You nervous?” my mom asked, patting my knee.

“Not really,” I lied. I was a little nervous - not a big fan of needles.

“Good. You’ll do just fine. So, what do you girls have planned for tonight?”

“We’re going to eat at the Sushi House and then I think we’re going to Club Crimson.”

“Is that the place I’ve been hearing about on the radio?”             

“Yeah, don’t worry, Mom, it’s a minors’ only club and it’s close to uptown, so it should be really nice.” I enunciated the “really” with as much emphasis as I could.

“Fine. Just don’t come home too late. Oh, look! There’s your name; you’re next. I’ll be here when you’re finished.”

I got up and headed for the double doors, clinging to my small clutch with a deathgrip, even though the lady who was waiting to greet me was probably the friendliest looking person I had ever seen.

“Claire Miller?” she asked with a warm smile on her face.

“Yep,” I said flatly, trying to return the smile.

“Alright sweetie, come with me. You’re here for your first Donor ID, right?”

“Hmm-mmm.” I was sure my one word answers were making me look a bit dumb, but I was feeling nervous. 

The long white hallway was lit with simple sconces and pricier artwork hung from the walls, filling the narrow corridor with vibrant splashes of color.

“Well, congratulations on making such a responsible decision to contribute to society and show your support for the vampire royal family. King Nicolae Noire and the rest of the family appreciate each and every donation made.”