"I, Vampyre" - Chapter Four

CHAPTER FOUR: Bloodlust Sated

 

            The notion that vampires never know fear is a myth, too.  We cause it more than we feel it -- I’d dealt my fair share in my three hundred years -- but I was definitely feeling it as the mist flowed swiftly out of the kitchen.

            Spike jumped up on top of the contempo chair, teetering for a moment in her fancy heels.  She waved her hands, starting an incantation for another spell… but a semi-corporeal tentacle of fog lashed out, knocking her over while eliciting an audible “EEP!”  I barely managed to catch Spike, setting her down on the floor as we ducked under another swipe of the mist-vine.

            I looked toward the kitchen, hoping to catch a glimpse of Adrianos, but that area was completely obscured by the ruddy miasma.  I pulled the black leather glove from my pants pocket and slipped it over my dominant hand.  Closing my eyes briefly, I reached toward the low table… knocking aside our empty wine glasses, concentrating on the faraway table in Spike’s crypt.  The planar boundaries parted, and my trusty whip, Kindred’s Bane, once again uncoiled from the ether.  It reeked of garlic, which I had grown fairly accustomed to, but Spike scuttled away, revolted.

            Slowing standing, weapon in hand, I saw Bellissima reappear in the archway between this room and the next.  The sight of her now caused my undead heart to skip a beat… she was very much the monster: unblinking eyes completely red, stringy hair so dark it was almost black, skin so bone-white and dry it seemed to crack as she moved about, clothes in tatters.  Her voice was that of a woman, a thing, dying of thirst… one that would not hesitate to kill in order to slake it.

            “Where am I!?” she hissed.  “Where’s my dagger?!?  Where are…” -- she turned to face me, fangs lengthening -- “…YOU!!”

My gaze dropped immediately to her bare stomach, revealed by the rips in her clothing… and the scar that existed there, a remnant from that same decades-old duel.  Setting my jaw firmly, I dropped the whip on the floor behind me.  I made an oath, once upon a time, to never hurt Belli again.  And I would uphold that vow… even if it killed me.

Bellissima seemed fairly determined to test my mettle in that regard, as she lowered her head and charged at me.  Even without her beloved silver dagger, she was still plenty deadly -- her extended talons were like ten razor-sharp stilettos.  She launched herself off the top of Adrianos’s couch, and I forced a sense of relaxed, centered calm in myself… not too easy, I’ll have you know, with a wild-eyed she-devil flying at you, determined to cut you into bloody, cubed vampire ham!

Belli slashed her claws down in a vicious ‘X,’ but only managed to disperse the black smoke of my Mist Form.  I floated away from her, experiencing the usual peculiar paradox of that vampiric ability… blind, deaf, yet perfectly attuned to everything around me at the same time.

            I wasn’t quite prepared for what came next, though.  Belli’s mist-vine snaked around my otherwise intangible form and… squeezed, somehow.  I had a vague sense of crushing pressure, and then -- I was unwillingly forced back into my ‘human’ being.  That was a first for me, and the first thing I saw was Spike, looking over the top of the chair in bewilderment.  Bellissima always had that knack, though; they didn’t call her ‘Mist Tamer’ for nothing.

            The next thing I saw was Belli, now straddling me, grinning triumphantly as she wiped red-tinged drool from her mouth.  As sound came crashing back in, the first thing I heard was a loud ‘SNAP,’ which seemed to come from the kitchen.  Music began playing throughout the penthouse, presumably the intended effect of the snap’s cause.  3/4 time, a waltz… perhaps a suitable accompaniment as my damned soul danced off into the beyond?

            Bellissima tilted her head at the sound of the melody, as if she recognized it.  All I cared about was that her clicking claws were at my throat, but not yet through it.

A dark shadow fell upon us then, and Belli looked up, seeing the same thing I saw: Adrianos.  He held a full bottle of blood-wine in his hand, which he offered to the vampiress.

“La sangre es la vida, querida... bebe... drink, and be sated.”

“Adrianos...” Bellissima whispered.  “Caro mio...”  She reached up, perhaps wanting to touch his face, but he merely pressed the blood-wine into her hand and gently closed her fingers around it.  She looked at the bottle briefly, blinking, not seeming to know what it was.  But then she must have caught a whiff of the sweet, sanguine nectar within, mixed with just a hint of wine, because she tilted the bottle back and greedily drained it.

            “Baila conmigo, Belli,” said Ad, now taking her hand.  “Dance with me…”

            Adrianos helped her to her feet, and I noticed that she was already looking more… herself.  A hint of pinkish ivory had returned to her skin, her hair was a deep auburn, and though her eyes were still red, they had a different quality -- more passionate than bloodthirsty.  She wrapped her arms around Ad’s neck, lowering her face to his chest, and… they danced, swaying out-of-time with the waltz, not that it really mattered.

            “Music tames the savage beast, eh?” I said to Spike, as she crept up behind me.  Rather than commiserating, she whacked me on the back of the head.

            “This was the first song they danced to,” she explained, sighing romantically.

            I glanced over my shoulder at Spike.  “It is?  How do you know that??”

            “I just know, Nevik.  I just know…”

 

* * *

 

            Some time later, Adrianos and I were standing in the now blissfully mist-free kitchen, watching as Bellissima blubbered through an effusive apology to Spike.  I couldn’t help but smirk as Spike kept trying to get a word in edgewise, but Belli was reciting a near-constant litany of “I’m sorry’s.”  Finally, Spike managed to silence her… by pressing her lips to Belli’s and kissing her fondly.

            As the two vampiresses embraced each other, I thought about how we Kindred were so very far advanced from mere mortals in another way.  We had no prejudices regarding sexual preference, age, race, or (haha) religion.  The blood, the essence was paramount… if we favored it, we tended to keep it around to be enjoyed again and again.

            The notion of vampire ‘monogamy’ was inherently absurd, but we did form long-lasting relationships.  Very long-lasting ones.  And we were by no means immune to emotions such as rage, lust, or envy… but Spike and Belli had something pure and beautiful.

            They loved each other, bless their dark hearts.

            Spike sighed as Bellissima kissed her neck, and her eyes sparkled mischievously as she looked at Ad and me.  “Oh, boys… would you give us a minute or two… or ten?”

            Adrianos bowed his head obediently, and started to walk toward the adjoining room -- coughing significantly as I lingered just a little bit longer.  Nodding my own head, I trailed after him, with one last glance back… seeing Spike’s top now at Bellissima’s feet, and Belli’s fangs eagerly penetrating the soft skin of her bare chest.

            “Nevik!” Ad prompted, again, and I left the ladies to get… ‘reacquainted.’

            We were now in what appeared to be a spacious study.  Adrianos plopped down in a chair before a large, lacquered desk, suddenly looking very weak and fatigued.  At a glance, I took in the many books on shelves along the walls, carefully collected across multiple lifetimes.

            “I was on a bounty-hunt myself,” he declared, without further preamble.  “Foolishly… recklessly.  I was successful, or so I thought.  But I fear I may have taken in some…” -- another coughing fit helped underscore his point -- “…bad blood.”

            I closed the door to the study, and leaned against it, frowning.  “Why are there bounties still being taken, Ad?” I asked, echoing my concern from the previous night.  “The Vampire War is over… isn’t it?”

            Adrianos shook his head slowly.  “Someone out there still has a score to settle.  And I think it may be…”  He hesitated, before forcing it out: “another Scion…”

            I took several heavy steps forward, walking toward Ad’s desk, suddenly more interested in the varied scribblings on papers on the desktop.  Several names jumped out, the names of vampires, Scions, most of them now (truly) dead… Alexandra, Jupiter, Ezekiel, Chantal, Daemus… Siren…

            “No,” I insisted, not quite believing my own words.  “You and Siren are the last two left.”  I looked at Adrianos, noting the significance of his attire -- the snazzy suit -- for the first time.  “Why are you so dressed up?”

            Adrianos straightened his tie.  “Before you, Spike, and Bellissima came along, I was about to head over to the ‘Club, to try and talk to… you know… her.”

            “You mean ‘port over there?” I asked.  One of Adrianos’s more impressive Elder Vampire abilities was the ability to teleport, across any distance, essentially at will.

            “No… I can’t seem to teleport anymore.  It’s the blood-sickness.  Don’t tell Spike and Bellissima, Nevik.  At least, not yet.”

            “Don’t tell them what?”

            Adrianos looked up at me, smiling bravely.  “That I’m dying…”

            I barked a short laugh, struck by the lunacy of that statement.  But the continuing, cold stare from Ad told me that he was serious -- deadly serious.

            “Unholy s**t,” I said.  “That’s… um… yeah.  Ok, so, what do we do about it?”

            “We go talk to the only other Scion that we know of,” Adrianos replied, spitting out the ostensible honorific as if it were a curse word.  He picked up an odd-looking scrap of parchment, stuffing it into the pocket of his slacks, and then looked over my shoulder. “Renfield, go get the car ready…”

            “Yes, Master,” came a voice from behind me, and I spasmed in surprise again -- I almost felt like I should turn in my Vampire Card, having been caught unawares twice in as many hours.  I turned around quickly, and saw a tall, thin man standing in the now-open doorway.  I hadn’t heard him approach, I couldn’t sense his heartbeat, and he smelled much too… sterile.

            “It’s an android,” I stated, feeling a small sneer of disdain.  “A synthetic.”

            “I believe he prefers the term ‘artificial person,’” Adrianos corrected.  “And, Renfield, find a nice outfit for Lady Bladedancer.”

            “Of course, Master.”  The frighteningly human-like robot bowed obsequiously, and then backed out of the doorway, leaving as silently as he came.

            “You have a big collection of women’s clothing, do you, Lord Adrianos?” I mocked, gently.  Ad was my superior in practically every way -- I had to get my licks in where I could.

            Adrianos chuckled as he regained his feet.  “I tend to have many guests of the fairer sex come visit me, youngling.  Tragically, most of them never leave…”

            Cowed yet again, I meekly stepped out of the way as Adrianos strode past me.  He paused briefly in the doorway, hacking up another moist-sounding cough, leaning heavily on the jamb.  I took one last look around the neat mess of the study before following in his footsteps.

 

* * *

 

            Soon thereafter, our vampire quartet was gathered by a pair of elevator doors, waiting semi-patiently, ready for a night out on the town.  Adrianos looked sharp in his sharkskin suit, and he was helping Bellissima fasten the clasp on a stunning gold-and-ruby necklace.  Belli was dressed in a sleeveless, ruffled brown top, and a long black skirt with a slit ‘up to there.’ Her hair was back to a healthy-looking, Crayola-crayon-red, and a genuine smile appeared on her face as Ad’s fingers lingered on her neck.

            I felt that I was, comparatively, a bit underdressed in my dirty T-shirt, ripped jeans and black boots, but Spike assured me I looked fine; I figured she was still getting a kick out of the ‘BITE ME.’  In turn, I helpfully pointed out that her top now appeared to be on backwards… Spike giggled and wrinkled her nose at Belli as she fixed it.

            Eventually, the elevator doors opened, and we all entered the smallish cab.  I pushed the button for the ground floor… chewing on the fact that, even in 2076, elevator rides were still made interminable by droning Muzak.

            The cab descended.  Before we’d left Ad’s penthouse, Spike had asked why we didn’t just have Adrianos teleport us to the ‘Club… or why we didn’t all fly over there… or mist there… or one of various other suitably vampy means of travel.  Adrianos had insisted that taking a limo-ride would be singularly entertaining -- or at least, different, a nontrivial distinction to easily-bored immortals -- and Spike had ultimately acquiesced.  I’d shared a dark look with Ad… keeping his little ‘secret’ wasn’t going to be much fun.

            The elevator continued to drop.  Spike and Adrianos were whispering to each other, recounting an old adventure, carrying on as they were often wont to do.  Bellissima was standing next to and slightly behind me, staring up at the slowly decreasing numbers.  It occurred to me that I was somewhat chafed at her… after all, I hadn’t gotten a special ‘thank you,’ for saving her from herself.

            Just then, Belli pressed her left hand into my forever-wounded right, giving it a short, soft squeeze.  I closed my eyes, allowing a wisp of a smile.  It was enough.

            I opened my eyes in concert with the elevator doors, and we hastily escaped the Muzak-infested box.  Adrianos led the way, a splendiferous vampiress on each arm; I brought up the rear, hands in my pockets, thinking and fretting about certain persons who might (would) be at our destination.

            “I feel naked without my dagger,” Bellissima complained, her hand subconsciously brushing against her delicious-looking leg as it emerged from the daring cut in her skirt.  That sound you didn’t hear was my mind, landing firmly back in the gutter with a silent splat.

            “It’s safe,” Spike said, hugging Ad’s arm tighter.  “Weapons are frowned upon at the ‘Club, anyhoo.  Your dagger is in… ya know… the usual spot.”  Belli seemed sufficiently comforted by that, so she dropped the subject.

            We exited the apartment building, Adrianos nodding knowingly to the night-watch doorman… who, I noticed with mild surprise, was a vampire!  Grim-faced and forbidding, their faces closed tight, an angular mass of New Yorkers was revealed to us on the sidewalk.  But they parted before us, revealing the sleek, jet-black electric limousine waiting in the street.

            Renfield reappeared, opening the door nearest the curb, and we all piled into the back of the limo.  The andro… er, ‘artificial person’ got back behind the wheel, his eyes unblinking as he peered at us in the rearview mirror.

            “Drive, Renfield,” Adrianos ordered, and the limo pulled away quickly and quietly.  “Take us to The Underworld Club.”

            I grinned at my old friends, willfully setting aside my trepidation. “Let’s paint the town… red.”

 

* * *