"I, Vampyre" - Chapter Twelve

CHAPTER TWELVE: A Year in the Unlife

 

            Nearly three-hundred years before, and a continent or two away… the Balkan Mountains, December, 1777…

 

Darius trembled with barely-restrained anger, vexed by his childe… who was lashing out like a petulant child!  There was so much that Bellissima just didn’t understand, despite his recent attempts at explanation.

            And yet… perhaps, in her naiveté, she possessed a pure, unbiased wisdom, all the same.  He walked up to her, leaving the suddenly-unpleasant stench of blood and death in the house behind them.  He wanted to hold her… hug her, kiss her, tell her that everything would be all right… but he knew that, right now, she only wanted the solace of home -- their home.

            Darius took Bellissima’s hand, feeling a small comfort from the fact that she squeezed back… hard.  He led her down the steps, and pulled her into an uneasy embrace.  He whispered a wordless incantation, and they melded into the ethereal plane, a sudden blur of black, white, and gray.  Just before they pulled away across the ether, Bellissima saw the dead family’s house -- suddenly bursting into a roaring blaze, all traces that they had been there eradicated.

            In mere moments… they were back in Darius’s mountain castle.  She looked up at him, eyes wavering -- and quickly pulled her silver dagger from her boot.  His eyes widened slightly as she pointed the blade at his face, like a silent accusation.  Then, turning away with a muffled sob, she slammed the dagger down atop the dining table of the banquet hall, and then ran for the steps leading down into the dungeon.

            “Master?”  A plaintive voice… the majordomo of the castle, Slava.  “Is… everything all right??”  Darius fixed the steward with a burning glare, which was all the answer that was needed… the human bowed obsequiously, then shuffled off into the shadows.

            Darius descended, following the echoes of soft weeping that drifted up the spiraling stone stairs.  He found Bellissima in the ‘bedroom,’ such as it was, crouching by the bed… her face buried in the sheets, hair splayed out like an auburn sunburst.

            He knelt on the floor, slightly behind her.  His thoughts were a whirlwind… dark, dangerous and clouded.  But… like an unlikely ray of sunlight, his love for her burned away the indecision and doubt.

            “Belli…” he called to her, ever-so-softly.  “Do you know what an ether pocket is?”

            Bellissima lifted her head, staring at the far wall incredulously.  She was hardly in the mood for another ‘lesson.’  “Wha--… a what??”

            “An ether pocket,” Darius repeated.  “It’s a useful trick.  You can summon a small object… say, a weapon… from anywhere.  You just have to remember exactly where you left it on the material plane…”

            Belli turned around, leaning her back against the side of the bed.  Darius held his hands out in front of him, as if holding an invisible scabbard… she’d seen this before.  Regardless, she was still amazed as he produced his favorite weapon, the ancient katana, seemingly out of midair.

            Darius twisted the sword in his hand, apparently admiring it.  Candlelight reflected off the silver of the blade, giving it a ruddy glow that called to mind all the blood it had tasted in its time.  “I took this katana from a swordsman in feudal Japan,” he declared, “almost 500 years ago…

            “He was a samurai… and a Vampire-Slayer.  He almost slew me.”  A hint of a smirk appeared on Darius’s face.  “His blood was delicious.  And his weapon was my prize.”

            Belli continued to stare at the blade, as if hypnotized.  “I… I know how important it is to you… Sire…”

            Darius shook his head once, firmly.  “You miss my meaning, my darling… it is… just a sword.”  With that, Darius gripped the blade tightly in both hands… and, with what appeared to be only a minor effort, he snapped it in half like a twig!

            Bellissima gasped, leaning forward abruptly, the front of the fur coat falling open, shocked… both at what Darius has just done, and at the sight of his bright, crimson blood, flowing freely from his sliced-open hands.

            “Bellissima… my Belli…”  He dropped the halves of the broken weapon to the floor with a short, sharp clatter.  “Nothing is more important to me now… than you…

            “I will renounce myself as a Scion, an Heir… there may be a way… I’ll send a messenger to Katya, she is closest, and she may be sympathetic.  She and I have… a bit of a history together…”

            Belli tilted her head, eyes all-but-literally glinting green with sudden jealousy, and Darius couldn’t help but chuckle.  “My dear one, believe me when I say it was ages ago!”  But Bellissima lashed out, cat-like and lightning-quick, grabbing the wrist of Darius’s right hand.  She continued to stare at the blood, pooling in his palm… and the ‘lust came over her again.....

 

* * *

 

            “Oh, Belli…” I whispered, as I slowly drew my fangs out of her neck.  I kissed the wounds closed, and my tongue lapped up a stray droplet or two from her collarbone.  I started to follow the bloody trail lower -- to other, infinitely more interesting body parts -- but Bellissima took my head in her hands and gently pulled me back up to look into her scintillating azure eyes.

            “Did you see?” she asked.  Again, highly rhetorical… she knew I’d seen it all.

            “Yes,” I said, anyway.  I licked her blood from my lips, and the end of the ‘memory flared again.  “It was like I saw it from his point-of-view as well as yours… your bond with him must have been strong…”

            Bellissima bent her knees, dipping her upper body into the water, washing the rest of her own blood away.  As she stood, she rearranged her hair so it was covering her chest again.  “Yes, Nevik.  Our bond was very strong, indeed.  He was my Sire… he was my teacher, my friend… he was… my dearest love.”  Her eyes shimmered.  “Even though we only had a little over one year together…”

            I shook my head.  “What does that matter!?  Love is love, no matter the degree or duration.  I only had one, too-short year… with Lew.”  ‘And with Siren,’ I added, albeit unspoken.

            I looked into Bellissima’s dazzling eyes, remembering anew how very much we had in common.  Next I knew, I was backing into the edge of the waterfall-pool, yards away.  I didn’t remember backing up that far… had Belli partially Glamoured me??

            She leaned into me, and I had nowhere left to withdraw.  Her lips brushed my ear, and I wondered if she was going to ‘taste’ me back.  The thought of her fangs inside me again, after so many years, filled me with warm anticipation… but her next, hushed words made my blood run cold:

            “I know why you broke up with my sister, Nevik… ‘Belladonna’ told me.”  Bellissima moved to my other ear, her eyes inscrutable as they passed in front of mine.  “She told me how one simple letter was the linchpin that unraveled a lie… the day you called her Belli instead of Bella’…”

            She leaned back, her expression still completely unreadable.  She could have been furious, or she might have been flattered.  I would’ve given just about anything for Siren’s talent at telepathy at that moment.

            “What do you want me to do?” I beseeched her.

            “Teach me the ether pocket…” she sweetly demanded.

            So I taught her.  Belli was a quick study.  She gasped in surprise and delight when her hand touched a pillow that was in a coffin thousands of miles away.

            And when she ultimately pulled her priceless silver dagger out of the ether… I was profoundly grateful that she didn’t see fit to stab me with it.

 

* * *

 

            A little while later, Bellissima nimbly climbed out of the pool… turning to vapor before I could get a good look at her stunning (ahem) assets.  Her Mist Form did a loop-de-loop before wafting swiftly away, disappearing around the far corner of the cave.  I was barely out of the water myself when I heard Spike’s voice, echoing off the walls: “Ooo, Belli!   You’re magically babelicious!!”

            Chuckling quietly, I pulled my clothes back on, noticing that Bellissima had left hers behind.  I bent down, reaching for them… then recoiled in surprise, as a ladylike hand appeared out of thin air, merrily waving in my general direction before reclaiming the ruby necklace and vanishing as quickly as it had appeared.  I shook my head -- she’d just learned how, and already Belli was creating ether pockets like she’d been doing it since she was a Fledgling.

            Turning to mist myself, I followed the invisible trail that Bellissima had left during her aerial passage.  When I rematerialized, the first thing I saw was Aussie Donna… apparently playing dress-up doll with her ‘baby’ sister.  “Turn around, Belli, dearie, show us your new coat… oh!  Hmmph.  Hullo again, Nevik…”

            I waved weakly at Aussie D, but my eyes were inevitably drawn back to Bellissima.  She was now wearing a black fur coat, and, as Donna waved her fingers -- like a mystical seamstress, pulling invisible thread -- a furry black ushanka spun into existence atop her now-dry red hair.  I blinked, thrice, my disbelief heavy for a moment… it was like Belli had stepped out of her own blood-memory from three centuries ago.

            “Very impressive, Aussie D,” I said.  “But… what’s with the cold-weather gear?”  My mind was racing again… wondering if Bellissima had anything on under that new coat of hers.

            “She’ll need it where she’s goin’… where you’re all going next,” Aussie Donna stated.  Adrianos’s weary head perked up at that, and Spike waited with bated lack-of-breath.  “Not as protection from the weather, natch, but so you’ll, mmm… ‘blend in’…”

            “And just where is that?” Siren asked, with a dash of Socratic irony.  I had a hunch that she knew exactly where, and she didn’t have to read Aussie D’s mind to know it.

            “Mother Russia!  To see the nicest member of that mouldy ol’ Shadow Council that I can think of… Yekaterina Ivanov.  But ya might know her better by her nickname… Katya!”

            Predictably, the supermodel-like smile strutted right off of Bellissima’s face at the mention of that particular name.  She scowled and put her hands on her hips, the front of her coat slipping open, and I tried my very best not to stare too unbecomingly long at the lacy black bra and panties she had on underneath… or her silver dagger, bound to the inside of her luscious thigh with a leather strap.

            “We’re all gonna take a little nap first, though, right Aussie D?” Spike asked, yawning protractedly.  “I’m sooo tired… it feels like it’s almost dawn again.”

            Aussie Donna shook her head, orange-red hair swishing this way and that.  “‘Fraid not, luv…”  As she spoke, lush, dark-green moss began spreading across the cavern floor.  “It’s almost midnight in Moscow, and…” -- she paused, looking worriedly at Adrianos -- “…Lord Addy ain’t exactly getting better just sittin’ there.  So, hup hup, let’s get you ready to amscray!”

            “We’re not going to Moscow,” Bellissima declared.  “Katya isn’t there.”

            Siren walked over, barely flinching as Aussie D gestured at her and a legion of tiny spiders began spinning yet another new outfit.  “Belli, I’d trust your sister in this instance.  If she thinks we need to go to Moscow…”

            “The former Leningrad,” Bellissima interrupted, and she sounded completely sure of herself.  “Katya is in Saint Petersburg, Russia…”

            “How do you know that, Belli?” I asked.

            Bellissima gave me that always-endearing askew smile of hers, but her reply didn’t exactly inspire confidence, especially considering that Adrianos’s life hung in the balance: “Women’s intuition.”

            Aussie Donna looked from Bellissima, to Siren, to me, but then just shrugged.  “Oy!  St. Pete it is.”  Aussie D crouched down next to the verdant carpet, pushing down a seemingly random bump so that it became a mossy dimple.  “I’d wager that Belli here has a bone to pick with that Russkie, da?”

            “Da,” Bellissima agreed.  She moved to stand expectantly at the edge of the bed of moss, the ruby necklace -- the one that Adrianos had given to her -- glittering on her neck.

            Adrianos groaned as Spike helped him stand up, and I did a double-take.  They were now dressed like they were ready to be cast as the bad-guys in a spy movie.  Adrianos had on a heavy coat with decorations harkening back to Soviet-era Russia; Spike was adorned all in white, looking like a femme fatale secret agent.

            “You sure this is blending-in, Donna?” I asked.  I felt a quick, intense tickle, and laughed softly as I glanced downward.  I was now wearing an ensemble that would, quite possibly, blend in innocuously with a gang of 2070’s counterrevolutionary Russian youth.  The spiked collar was the coup de grâce.

            “What now, Aussie Donna?” Siren inquired.  The summoned spiders finished their diligent duty, and I noticed that she was now also wearing a suitably ‘future-punk’ outfit, similar to mine.  What a funny little coincidence.

            “Gather ‘round the green stuff, gang, like the birthday girl, there,” Aussie D explained.  I looked up sharply at Bellissima.  Birthday girl?  What was the date today… the time-zone-hopping had already made me loopy, and now even more was imminent… the 15^th of November?  “I like to think of this as a form of ‘moss transport’…hehe!

            “And beware if… when… you meet ‘Su-PEER-ior’ Katya,” Donna continued.  “Just ‘cause she’s the ‘nicest’ doesn’t mean that she’s kind.  But she might just tell you where you can find this Broker fella, whatever ‘is bloody name is… if you ask nicely enough.”

            Bellissima bit her lip, I noticed, and I still felt like she was hiding something.  Yet, before I could open my mouth, she gathered her coat around herself, hugged her own shoulders, and closed her eyes as she hopped into the center of the moss-bed.  She dropped into it very quickly, as if it was just a mossy illusion covering the opening to an abyss.  She was gone, in a blink… and a single, tiny snowflake appeared to mark her passage.

            “Who’s next?” Aussie Donna asked, rubbing her hands together in what seemed to be slightly-forced enthusiasm.  Siren patted Adrianos on the shoulder, staring into his eyes… my mind reeled, wondering what words were passing silently between them.

            “Go ahead… Daniela…” Adrianos uttered, the pushing of each word past his lips seemingly a Herculean effort.  “I’ll… be alright…”

            Siren took another step toward the mystical mossy gateway, the toe of her boot warily exploring its edge.  She closed her eyes for a lingering moment, pressing her palms together against her chest, the still-dangling opal brushing against her thumbs -- it almost looked like she was praying (what tasty irony, that).

            When she pulled her hands apart, a glowing… something… shot forth, zipping around our heads.  It almost looked like a paper-thin, demonic cat with a maniacal grin.  It shot over my head -- whispering something that sounded like ‘…Kinnn…’ -- before dive-bombing the moss-bed below and disappearing with a pulse of bright orange.

            “What the HELL was that!?” I shouted, shaking my head.  Even as a vampire, the wonders never ceased.

            “Glamour-mail,” Siren answered, half-smiling, as if that was all the explanation that was needed.  “If we’re going to Russia, we might just need… a friendly guide…”

            Siren reached out to Spike with her open hand.  “Shall we, Lady Spike?”  Spike glanced up at Adrianos, and he nodded encouragingly.  Spike gave him a quick peck on the cheek… then she grabbed Siren’s hand and yelped as they both jumped into the void, the moss coughing up another incongruous puff of snow.

            Adrianos shuffled over to Aussie Donna, looking very much like a vampire whose many millennia were finally catching up with him.  He took her hand in his, lifting it and kissing the back of it.  She tittered to herself, and I felt an unexpected twinge of envy.

            “Many thanks… my dear Aussie Donna,” Adrianos said.  “For all of your help.  Perhaps we can arrange… a ‘private tasting,’ someday.”  I swallowed down a harsh cackle of a laugh -- unbeknownst to Ad, Donna had very nearly devoured him whole.

            “Take care, Lord Adrianos,” Aussie Donna said, patting his broad shoulders fondly.  “Oh!  And take this here pressie…”

            Donna reached into a fold of her dress, and produced what looked like a small, chocolate-covered biscuit.  She held it out before dropping it into Ad’s waiting palm.

            “What is it?” he asked, carefully eyeballing the tiny treat.

            “It’s a Tim Tam!  Eat it if you ever need a wee bit of a ‘pick-me-up’…!”  Adrianos arched one eyebrow, but begrudgingly slipped the candy into his coat pocket.  “Watch out for Belli and Spike, won’t ya?” Donna added.  “And that ‘sheila’ Siren, too, I suppose…”

            Lord Adrianos nodded severely, as if Aussie D’s good-natured wish was instead his most solemn mandate.  After one last, indecipherable look at me, he stepped (more like stumbled) into the bed of moss, disappearing like the others.

            It was just the two of us, then.  Aussie Donna shuffled her feet.  She was still so very beautiful.

            “I can’t convince you to come with us, Lady Donna?” I asked.  I had an idea what she would say, but I had to at least try.

            “Nup.  I’ve been trying to grow another Black Lotus, ‘n’ they need a lot of attention.”  She looked up, smiling grandly… but her eyes were streaked with a melancholy shade of blue.  “And…  …it’s just too painful being around you, luv.”

            That simple statement rooted me to the spot, like I’d been impaled on a silver pike.  There weren’t enough words in the whole wild world to take away her pain, nor actions that I felt I could attempt with the sincerity she deserved.  I didn’t want to speak the words I did at that moment, but I couldn’t help it… like Bellissima yearned for her dagger, I had a hankering, an addiction almost, for my own weapon.  “Where’s my whip?”

            She blinked her eyes, and, just like that, she was back to business.  “It’s right here, Nevik… good thing it wasn’t a snake, eh?”  Aussie D gestured to her right and, sure enough, the Kindred’s Bane was coiled in a serpentine pile on the broken hunk of rock and earth that had served as Adrianos’s ‘bed.’  “Mark it well, and so on, and so forth.  It’ll be here if you need it.”  She hesitated before adding, “I hope you don’t.”

            I wanted to give her a kiss, or at least a good-bye hug, but it was painfully apparent that she desired nothing of the sort.  The next words tumbled from my mouth without any conscious intent that I could recall:

            “We’ll always have Valeria.”

            Aussie Donna smiled again, and a hint of remembered joy crept into her sad eyes.  “Aye, Nevik.  That we will…”

            I took a couple steps back, and I was falling.  Australia disappeared, engulfed in a world of wintery white.

 

* * *

 

            A strong hand pulled me out of the snowdrift… it was Bellissima, and she favored me with that trademark crooked grin of hers as she dusted snow from my ratty leather jacket.  We were on the edge of a nearly-empty city square, and the first thing I noticed was a clock on a bell tower, the hands showing that it was just past midnight… again… November 15, 2076.

            “Happy Birthday, Bellissima,” I said.  “You look pretty good for three-hundred.”  She let loose a musical laugh, and then pointed significantly behind her.

I looked, and I saw Spike hugging Adrianos -- holding him, and perhaps holding him up as well -- while fighting a losing battle against a pervasive case of the giggles.  And then I saw Siren, her back to me, seemingly trying to smother a dark-haired woman who was dressed in white, black and red.

            Siren pulled back, breaking her lip-lock with the other woman, and I smiled as I finally realized who it was… curly brown hair, flawless porcelain skin, eyes a clear blue like the waters of the Mediterranean.  The erstwhile Grand Duchess Olga Nikolaevna, eldest daughter of the last autocratic ruler of the Russian Empire, thought long-dead, now a vivacious vixen of a vampiress.

            But we all knew her better by her vampiric name:

            Makenna.

 

* * *