Disclaimer: While the attempt has been made to be medically accurate, some artistic license has been taken, and statements made by Carlisle and other medical personnel are not to be regarded as authoritative.

Recognizable characters and plotlines are the property of Stephenie Meyer; all original characters and story © 2017 FemaleChauvinist.

Do not post without permission. Do not copy/print without including the above disclaimer in its entirety.

Shyona

I woke from my worst nightmare ever, a literal hell of fiery torment burning through my veins. I awoke, but found the torture hadn't ended. My feet still burned with a hundred fires; when I moved the pain intensified and I screamed again.

Screamed as I must have screamed over and over in the past dreadful hours; my throat burned from it.

I don't know how long I lay there. Though I lay perfectly still and did not scream again, the pain in my throat slowly increased, rivaling even my burning feet. I tried vainly to remember anything before this tortuous existence. Had I always lain here burning?

Then I was not alone; a man was bending over me. His skin was dark; not the warm brown common among Africans, but a strange ashy gray. His eyes gleamed red — was this a demon in my personal hell?

"Ma'am?" he said softly; there was confusion in his voice. "Are you…all right?"

"Help me…" I whispered. "It burns…"

He frowned. "Your throat?"

"Yes…and my feet."

His eyes widened; I screamed again as he pulled off my shoe and sock. Then his hands were on my foot, cool and soothing, though they did nothing to alleviate the pain, and I heard him swear under his breath.

Then he was crouched beside my head again, taking my hand in his. "I'm Donald," he told me softly.

"Shyona," I whispered; I had no idea how I knew.

He squeezed my hand gently. "Lie still, Shyona; I'll get you something for your throat." And then he was gone.

I whimpered softly as I waited, wondering if he would return or leave me here alone in the woods.

He came back. He carried a limp body in his arms, laying it beside me. "Drink while it's still warm," he said tersely.

I had no time to wonder what he meant; my teeth were already sinking into the soft flesh.

Only when I had drained the body of blood did I realize what I had done and pull back, appalled.

Donald laid a hand on my shoulder. "You're a vampire, Shyona." His voice held deep regret.

I stared at him, the words echoing through my mind. "You're a vampire…vampire…vampire."

oOo

Donald

It was I who had changed Shyona, though I did not intend to tell her that now; perhaps not ever. I had come upon the lone woman in the woods, and fallen upon her with the intent of feeding. But another vampire had appeared, disputing my right to her; he claimed she was his la tua cantante and as such he had first rights to her blood. I felt those rights were mine, by reason that I had found her first, and we fought over the woman as my venom began to spread through her body, spoiling her for any to feed.

I won the battle and burned the remains, then hunted elsewhere to finish my interrupted meal.

It was only some days later that it occurred to me that the woman would now be a newborn vampire; as her creator, it was my responsibility to see that she did not expose us.

I ran to the place where I had left her, expecting to have to track her scent. To my surprise, she still lay there, curled on her side. "Ma'am? Are you…all right?" It was all I could think of to say.

"Help me…it burns."

I frowned; I could hear no heartbeat, so obviously the transformation was complete. It must be the thirst she referred to, and yet… "Your throat?"

"Yes…and my feet."

Her feet? I unlaced one of her boots, cringing as her scream echoed through the woods. Seldom did one hear a vampire scream in pain. When I saw her bare foot, I swore softly; something had gone wrong in the transformation. The skin was not the cool marble of a vampire, but the cold clamminess of a corpse.

I moved beside her, taking her hand in an attempt to comfort her. "I'm Donald," I said; it seemed inadequate, simply to introduce myself, but I had no explanation; no solution.

"Shyona," she whispered.

Shyona…so unusual…but it suited her. "Lie still, Shyona; I'll get you something for your throat." That, at least, I could do.

Yet as I ran, I contemplated the idea of not returning. She couldn't walk, so obviously our existence wasn't in danger of being exposed; my responsibility to her had ended there. Yet it seemed cruel to leave her to burn with slowly increasing thirst. It wasn't as if the thirst would even kill her; if I were going to abandon her, it would be kinder to simply kill her myself. Perhaps that was the kindest course in any event, but my mind shuddered against it. There had to be another way.

And so I returned, bringing my kill. Shyona drank ravenously, then pulled back with horror in her eyes. There was no kind way to tell her the truth; I laid my hand on her shoulder to soften the blow. "You're a vampire now, Shyona."

If a vampire can go into shock, I think she did, staring at me wide-eyed without breathing. "Shyla?" I whispered, the diminutive coming to my lips without conscious thought.

"A vampire?" she asked in a small voice.

I pulled her into my arms and stood up, being as careful with her feet as possible. "I don't know what's wrong with your feet," I admitted, "but somewhere there has to be someone who can help." I would not rest until I found that person.

oOo

I hunted for Shyona more often than I typically did for myself; newborns needed to feed more frequently.

One night I had left her in a sheltered area while I hunted down her meal. When I returned, she wasn't alone. A female vampire was bending over her, while a male stood nearby. Neither was in a particularly threatening posture, yet I dropped the body and crouched defensively by Shyona's side.

The male raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. "Easy; we mean your mate no harm. We were just passing through when we saw her sitting here."

I straightened slowly, keeping my eye on him as I went to retrieve the body.

"I'm Peter," he continued; "that's my mate, Charlotte."

"Donald," I said shortly. "She's Shyona."

Though neither had said anything, both Peter and Charlotte were of course aware that something was wrong with Shyona; no normal vampire would allow another to hunt for her. When Shyla had finished drinking, Charlotte sat behind her and began untwisting her heavy braid of thick black hair. "Men," she murmured. "They think it's enough to feed you…" She glared at me. "Look at the knots in this!"

I decided Shyona was in good hands with Charlotte, and moved several steps closer to Peter.

"What's wrong with her?" he asked softly.

I sighed. "Her feet are still human. The venom in them burns, but…" I shook my head; it was growing harder to hang onto hope that my aimless wandering would ever lead me to someone who could help. And I had soon realized that I did not have forever; like a corpse her feet were rotting away.

Peter appeared thoughtful. "Have you heard of Carlisle Cullen?"

I shook my head.

"A friend of mine, Jasper Whitlock, joined his coven."

"What of it?" I asked shortly.

Peter shrugged. "Don't ask me where he finds the control…but Carlisle Cullen is a doctor."

I stared at him. "A vampire doctor?"

"A vampire doctor of humans," Peter clarified. "I doubt he's had any experience…"

"It's better than nothing," I said eagerly. "Where is he?"

Peter frowned. "It's a number of years since I visited Jasper; they may not be in the same place anymore." But he dropped to sit on the ground and draw a map in the dirt with his finger.

"One more thing," he added, looking up. "The Cullens have a slightly different diet than we do; strictly animal blood. As a courtesy, Charlotte and I never hunt within fifty miles of their home."

I nodded impatiently. "Sorry to be rude, but…"

Peter nodded in understanding. I swept Shyona up in my arms, her new braid swinging over my arm, and took off running. My steps had a purpose now, and the miles melted behind me.

oOo

The house was empty. I knew even before I reached it; the traces of scent were old, discernable only because I knew they must be there. The despair that gripped me seemed even worse after having allowed myself to hope.

I sank onto the porch swing, burying my face in my hand. I had failed. Shyona's feet were gradually deteriorating; there was an open sore on one that grew slowly larger. I wondered, when they rotted away completely and the venom no longer burned, if she would be able to walk on the stumps.

My eyes were closed, but I felt Shyla's finger gently trace the curve of my cheek. Such trust she had in me; how could I tell her I had failed her? Would she even want to live as a cripple? Did I have the strength to kill her, if she asked it?

Then I heard the sound of a car on the drive, and looked up in surprise. A yellow car drove up, and the smallest vampire I had ever seen hopped out of the driver's seat. "Sorry we're late," she chirped.

I stared in confusion. Late? Did she think we had been expecting her? Who did she think we were?

A taller vampire stood smoothly from the passenger seat, shaking his head. "Alice…" he murmured. I felt my despair subsiding, though I saw no reason yet for hope.

"I'm Jasper Hale," he said to me, stepping forward.

"Hale? Not…Whitlock?"

He smiled briefly. "Whitlock was my name as a human. This is Alice Cullen."

Cullen. I felt a surge of returning hope; these two were part of the doctor's coven.

"Alice sees visions of the future," Jasper explained. "She saw you coming here and finding it deserted, and insisted we come to meet you."

Alice wrinkled her nose. "We would have been here before you, but we had to stop for gas. Come on!" She danced to the car and pushed down the back of the front seat.

I hesitated, then stood with Shyona and slid into the back, sitting crosslegged on the tiny seat.

"I knew we should have taken my car," Jasper commented, flipping his seat upright and getting in.

Alice glanced back at us in the cramped back seat. "I told you, they're vampires; they don't mind." She started the car and pulled out of the lane at top speed.

Jasper shook his head. "She doesn't think she gets to drive this car often enough," he commented dryly. "You know, Alice, Carlisle might let you drive it around town more if you hadn't insisted on yellow."

She turned to stick out her tongue at him. "He wouldn't," she sighed tragically.

I supposed she ought to know. "Alice," I whispered. "Will Dr Cullen be able…to help her?"

Jasper groaned. "Don't ask her while she's driving." He reached a hand to hover near the steering wheel; when I saw Alice's blank eyes in the rearview mirror I understood why.

"I don't know," she said finally. "What I 'see' is based on people's decisions…I can't tell until he examines her."

"I'll be fine," Shyona whispered, reaching to cup my chin in her hand. Peter's assumption of our relationship came back to my mind…mates. I wondered if it could be true.

oOo

"Carlisle will be home in half an hour," Alice announced brightly, pulling the car to a stop in front of another mansion. She hopped out and danced up the steps to meet a female vampire who had come out. I found myself wondering, as I followed her with Shyona, how large this coven was.

"I'm Esme," the female greeted me, "Carlisle's wife." She gently laid a hand on Shyona's cheek. "And you must be Shyona."

Shyla smiled hesitantly. "Yes."

"I'm sorry my husband isn't here; Alice didn't say in her note what she 'saw,' or we would have called him. He'll be able to help you, I'm sure. Bring her inside," she added to me.

I carried Shyona in and settled her on the couch Esme indicated. I looked around with some awe; the house was as grand as the master's plantation house had been in my human days.

There was a footstool nearby; I pulled it closer and sat down, holding Shyla's hand in mine.

"Can I get either of you anything?" Esme asked, hovering anxiously nearby.

"They're vampires, Esme," Jasper said dryly.

I smiled briefly, wondering if she was accustomed to entertaining humans. "No, thank you," I told her quietly.

At the end of Alice's predicted half hour, I heard a car pull up outside. Esme moved to the door to greet the well-dressed blond vampire who entered. I heard her talking softly, though I couldn't catch the words, and guessed that she was telling him about Shyla and me.

He left his wife's side, coming toward us with a smile. "I'm Dr Carlisle Cullen."

I got to my feet to shake the hand he offered. "Donald. Sorry to bother you, sir, but I didn't know how else to help her…"

"No trouble," he assured me, pulling a chair to the end of the sofa and seating himself. "Shyona," he said softly, "I'm going to see what I can do for you."

"Thank you," she said softly, wincing at even his most gentle touch on her bare feet.

"That hurts?"

"Burns…but it's not as bad as it was."

A slight frown crossed the doctor's face, as though he thought the lessening pain might be a bad thing. "Did you have circulation problems as a human, Shyona?"

Shyona was silent for a moment, concentrating on trying to recall the dim memories of her human life. "I was diabetic," she whispered at last.

"I thought so," Dr Cullen murmured. "That may explain why the transformation is incomplete." He was examining the open sore now, and appeared to consider a moment before putting his fingers to his mouth. They glistened with venom as he gently wiped them across the sore. Before our eyes, the skin grew over the raw flesh.

I groaned softly. "If I had known it was that easy…"

Dr Cullen smiled tightly. "I can try to force the transformation," he offered, "but it will be very painful for her. The only other option is to amputate…but I don't know how the stumps would heal."

I looked toward Alice. "Will forcing the transformation work?"

Her eyes lost focus for a moment, and then she smiled brightly. "Yes."

"Then do it."

"All right. Esme, heat some flannel cloths to about a hundred degrees."

When Esme had the hot cloths ready, Dr Cullen gently wrapped Shyona's foot, touching the cloth as little as possible to avoid cooling it. "I need to bring it as close to normal human body temperature as I can," he explained.

When he felt the temperature was right, he took a syringe he had prepared. "Shyona," he warned quietly, "this is going to burn worse than what thou feels now; I would give thee morphine, but it doesn't help."

Shyona smiled bravely. "That's…all right."

I knew what it was that he injected into her foot; his own venom. He wrapped it in fresh cloths and began massaging it, working the venom through her entire foot. Shyona did not scream, but her hand squeezed mine until I thought even a vampire's bones must break.

"Three days," I whispered suddenly. "Dr Cullen, will it take that long?"

"No," he replied instantly. "The transformation had already started, and I used more than ten times the amount of venom needed for a full transformation. See, it's already spreading," he added, pulling back the cloth to replace it with a fresh one; his hands were cooling them quickly. I could see that he was right; that the vampire skin came a little farther down Shyona's ankle. Each time he changed the cloth it had spread further, but it took hours before her whole foot was changed.

"I would like to give you a rest from the pain," Dr Cullen said apologetically, "but your vampire body is slowly absorbing the blood. If I wait, I think I would have to do a transfusion first."

"Do it now," Shyona whispered.

He smiled gently at her. "You have a brave heart, Shyona."

Five hours later, he was helping her to sit up on the sofa. But it was my hand she clung to as she took her first steps as a vampire.

oOo

"Shyla," I said quietly; we were sitting together on the Cullens' front porch. "I understand if you…want to be on your own now."

Hurt and confusion filled her eyes. "Did you get tired of caring for a cripple?"

"Never! I would gladly have hunted for you for all eternity. But…you don't need me now."

She slipped her hand under mine on the seat, turning it to clasp my fingers. "I'll go if you want me to," she whispered.

I smiled and brought our clasped hands to my lips. "I would…prefer that you stay."

She sighed and leaned against me contentedly, and I knew that Peter had seen the truth even before I had. We were mates.

The End

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