Her throat clenches and stomach lurches a hot bilious fluid clawing its way up her esophagus. This is not the first time the porcelain god has accepted such a sacrifice from Kacey, and it probably wouldn't be the last. Viscous black and crimson liquid, like someone ate a bucket's worth of licorice and cherry Jell-O shots, erupts from her mouth, painting the toilet in charnel house gore; leaving the vile taste of old pennies in her mouth.
Panting and sweating from the effort, she spits out as much of the foul coagulating goo as possible before pushing herself to her feet and over to the medicine cabinet. She yanks the mouthwash out before closing the door. Staring into the mirror, her vision shifts, and a slight overlay, like double vision resolves itself into two distinct forms. One, the sallow reflection of Kacey's usually bright ivory complected face framed by thick dark hair that now lays limp, damp, and stringy from her ordeal. Her, usually clear and warm, sapphire blue eyes are dull, slightly glazed, and bloodshot with red rimming the edges as though they actually started to bleed.
The other reflection bears a substantial similarity in terms of structure, but the complexion is much paler, closer to chalk than ivory, and the hair is even darker with a luster like polished obsidian, but it is in the eyes where the most significant difference lay. Instead of a warm sapphire, these eyes are a cool and sensual whiskey-like amber with a spoonful of hunger and a dash of danger. Animalistic with a predatory gleam that threatens you with pain while promising you pleasure.
Kacey rolls her eyes and uncaps the mouthwash. "Jesus fucking Christ Ash," she says. "Can you pretty please, with ice cream on top, stop draining these drunk-ass, frat boys?" She takes a long swig straight from the bottle of mouthwash and gargles.
Ashley smirks but schools her face to look contrite before Kacey finishes cleansing her palate. "Sorry, baby sister. They're just so much easier to get alone, and I swear I had no idea this one was so wasted. He acted relatively normal."
Kacey spits the formerly blue, now a murky brown liquid into the sink with a sour look on her face. "Oh, bullshit. Even before you transitioned to 'Mistress of the Night,' you never had any trouble getting a guy alone. Are you trying to tell me now, with your succubus dominatrix routine, you couldn't walk up to any guy, or Hell, any girl for that matter, and instantly get an invitation back to their place for a little midnight snack?"
"Fine," Ashley says, rolling her eyes. "The alcohol makes them taste better, alright. It's like french fries, without the right amount of salt, ketchup, or steak sauce, they're a little blah. Same idea here, alcohol, fear, or arousal makes the blood taste better, and since you won't let me fuck the little juice boxes, I need to get a little pleasure out of the experience."
Kacey pushed fingers against her temple. "Look, I'm sorry, but I just don't feel comfortable with what is technically my body having sex with someone who is not my boyfriend."
"Well, there is an easy solution. Just let me borrow Ethan."
"Hell, no."
"It's no big deal. I'll wait until just after he cums and take over just long enough to get a good nibble in. He'll be so pumped full of endorphins at that point that he won't even notice the switch."
"I still don't want you eating my boyfriend, and besides... I'm not ready to do that with him, especially with you riding shotgun."
"Sweetie, it's been more than a year. Shit or get off the pot. He may be milquetoast and white-bread, but even he will eventually start looking for greener pastures if there is no sign that the relationship is moving forward."
Kacey huffs. "Can we not talk about Ethan right now? I'm more concerned about me vomiting up blood and bile every time you need a fix."
"Can we not refer to my necessary and life-preserving consumption of blood as 'a fix,' please," counters with a little heat. "It makes me sound like a goddamned addict."
Kacey sighs. "Sorry. I know. I'm just frustrated- and before you say it, I also know it's just as bad if not worse on your end."
Both sisters stay quiet for a moment before Ashley sighs. "Look, I promise I'll be more careful and target people with lower blood alcohol content, and of course, no drugs in their system."
"Oh, God, please. I don't ever want to go through that again."
"I promise you; I never want to go through that again either."
Kacey smiles, a little color finally returning to her pallor. "I love you, Ash."
"I love you too, Kace," Ashley says, returning her smile. "Now let get out of this bathroom. The scent of blood is making me hungry."
"Why'd you say that? I had finally distracted myself from noticing," Kacey grumbles, walking out of the bathroom.
While the bathroom had been updated two years prior, the rest of the house was still in various renovation stages. The railings, banister, and floors were all dark-stained wood, and when combined with the antique pink flower motif wallpaper, showed the house's age and pedigree. Of course, previous owners had also started to update the home. You don't have a house built before Lincoln's lousy night at the theater without it needing to be at least somewhat renovated. Electricity and running water were a necessity, after all.
Making her way down to the first floor, Kacey stops in front of a set of sliding pocket-doors connecting to what would be termed 'the parlor' originally but had, since last year, become something else.
Kacey takes a calming breath and knocks.
"Yes?" a man's voice says with a monotone and obvious reflexive response. Kacey opens the doors revealing chaos incarnate. Notebooks, stacks of papers, and books too large to be termed anything short of 'tomes' litter the floor, shelves, and massive mahogany desk in the room's center. On the wall, a giant whiteboard filled with symbols and equations that would confuse the greatest scientific minds the world over sat next to a corkboard filled with equally odd notecards and photos.
Behind the desk between towering stacks of notes and tomes hunches a man with messy salt and pepper hair, wire-rimmed glasses, and a thick mustache. He has three days' worth of stubble, and he certainly did not sleep last night.
"Hey, dad," Kacey says.
Startled, the man looks up and smiles. "Hello, girls. How are you this afternoon?"
"Dad," Kacey says, raising her eyebrow. "It's seven in the morning."
He frowns and pushes a stack of papers to the side, revealing an alarm clock. "Well... So it is. That explains why my back hurts," he says while stretching.
"Since I know you won't go to bed until you pass out, how about you take a shower while I make us some breakfast?"
"Ah... I suppose I probably should, huh?"
"Yes. I can smell you from here. Hurry up, and don't fall in the shower," Kacey says turning to walk out of the room.
"Hang on, Kacey," he says, pointing towards one of the bookcases. "Fifth bookcase, second shelf, the third book from the right."
Kacey walks over and finds the book. "Simulacrum Autem Corpus." Their Latin was nonexistent, but even they could figure out what this book was about. As Kacey starts to turn back, a book catches Ashley's attention.
"Wait a minute," she says, and Kacey pauses. "One shelf up, two books from the left."
Kacey reaches out and pulls a thin book from the shelf. She holds it up and looks at her father. "Hey, dad? Can we borrow this?"
He'd been rubbing his eyes, but seeing the blurry outline of the book in Kacey's hand, he puts his glasses back on and squints. After a moment of consideration, he asks, "Have you memorized 'Empodecles' Primer on Primary Elements'?"
""Yes,"" they say with a dry monotone. It was the first book on magic that their father had made them read until they were dreaming about it. It was so dry that they repeatedly fell asleep while trying to trudge their way through it. Interestingly enough, though, that was the entire point. By design, comprehension of the text could only be gained through a trance-like state that opened the mind to a deeper reality. This is quite common in these sorts of texts on magical theory and practice.
"Then, I don't see why not. Be careful with it, though; it was one of your mother's."
Suddenly, the thin black-bound book became a whole lot more interesting to Kacey. "Did you know?" she asks Ashley.
"Mmm. It smells like her."
"I still don't get that. How do you smell more than I am when it's my nose you smell with?"
A mental shrug and a quick, "Magic?" is all the answer Ashley has for her. Vampire senses, powers, and strength, who the hell knows how it all works? Nevermind how it works through the medium of a Soul Bond. That's some grade-A mystic mumbo jumbo that was way above their comprehension.
Their father may have been drilling magical theory and spellcraft into their heads for the past year, but it was still scratching the surface of an iceberg more immense than the one that sunk the Titanic, and they felt like they were using plastic sporks to try to dig into it.
Kacey shakes away her reverie and walks back to her father and hands him the other book. "Hurry up and shower. I'll make pancakes."
Her energy had taken a big hit and Ashley felt it, but this happens every time their mother came up. It's been three years since she left and two years since they'd last heard from her. They didn't know if she was alive or dead, and there was no point in putting out a missing person report since they don't know where she disappeared from.
Even their father wasn't hopeful that she was still alive; hence the use of the word 'was' when he said, "it was one of your mother's." Past tense, like she wasn't coming back for it. Her disappearance was a major blow to the family.
This was long before they'd learned of the existence of magic and vampires... the hard way. Their parents had wanted to protect them and let them lead normal lives. That went out the window when Ashley met Krzysztof.
Kacey mixed the batter and started the stove. "Kace," Ashley says. "Are you okay?"
"I'll be fine. It's just been a fucked up couple of years. Sometimes it hits me that the world we knew is complete bullshit."
"You're telling me? I'm currently living as a disembodied spirit crashing like an unwanted house guest in my sister's soul."
"You're not unwanted. You're very much wanted," Kace says, suddenly sounding panicked. "I would rather us be stuck sharing one body, forever puking blood up every morning, than lose you. I couldn't handle this world without you. I'd lose my goddamned mind."
"I love you too." There is a sad smile on that disembodied spirit if anyone is around to see it.
They stay like that, Kacey over stirring the batter and Ashley floating in the ethereal void within Kacey's soul for several minutes before breaking their silence.
"So," Ashley says. "Does that mean you'll let me snack on Ethan?"
"Not a chance."