War of the Vampires

Part VII

Katia N. Ruiz


See Part I.

Copyright 1997


        MARIANA opened her eyes slowly, reluctantly. Her head, specially her nose, hurt unbearably. She sat up and blinked rapidly, trying to clear out her mind. She saw Lisa sitting right beside her, on the chair that was usually on the other side of Mariana's bedroom, against the wall. The look in her eyes was deadly and intensely serious; her jaw was set and her mouth looked grim without its smile.

        Mariana remembered what happened. She beat up Leslie; and before she had a chance to kill her, Lisa and the others stopped her. Then Lisa and her extremely angry eyes, and that small fist that knocked Mariana out with intensity. Mariana knew she was about to speak. "Mariana," She finally said, her voice subdued and controlled, but underneath, there was a volcano about to erupt. "I am still wondering at your actions, my dear. If I would have known you would attempt to end her existence, I would have kept watch on you."

        Mariana was angry. "She killed my parents," She said through clenched teeth. "She doesn't deserve to live."

        "This is not the same Leslie," Lisa said. "She's a frightened young vampire. She doesn't remember a thing of her past... You beat her, you almost killed her! She knows why, but she doesn't remember doing it. Have you ever heard of forgiving?" Mariana didn't answer, her jaw set defiantly. In an attempt to reach out, Lisa said with feeling: "She's your vampire child, Mariana."

        Mariana didn't budge. "And that should give me the right to decide if she lives or not." She said coldly.

        Lisa was suddenly angry. "You have no right to decide what vampire lives or not, not even your own progeny!" She said, jabbing her finger at her. "There is only one vampire who could decide the fate of another vampire. And I can decide right now to end with you."

        Mariana crossed her arms, staring at Lisa. "Then why don't you do so?" She challenged. Her eyes were wild from her own anger.

        "Because I know you have more sense than this," Lisa retorted. "I know your emotions are speaking for you, your anger... Leslie is not mad of the mind, and neither are you. Neither one of you has to die."

        "She killed Lucy, Lisa-" Mariana started to say.

        "Don't bring Lucy into this!" She growled fiercely, the sound a deepest rumble from her throat. "No one killed Lucy! Lucy wished her own death."

        "To save us all." Mariana cut in. "She had to-"

        Lisa raised her hand to stop her. "Lucy didn't need to go to that extreme to solve this problem." She said, her eyes suddenly full of pain. "She wanted to die, and that's the truth." She continued when she saw Mariana's shocked expression: "She'd been depressed for centuries, unsatisfied with her existence." Her eyes were thoughtfully sad as she spoke: "I should have known, I guess, when she allowed me to take Lea, to make her like us." She shrugged. "That was a sign, I guess. She didn't know how to go about destroying herself, being a true immortal; I believe the answer came when she was fighting." She quoted her own words to Lea on that tragic night: "'A true immortal can only die if he or she wishes his or her own death.' We could have all, including Lucy fought to the finish. We were stronger, there were more of us... we were stronger. But Lucy wanted die, she didn't want to be in this world any longer, believe me."

        "But weren't you enough, Lisa?" Mariana asked, completely surprised by this revelation.

        "Obviously not," Lisa answered instantly, finally admitting the truth to herself, tears came to her eyes. "Well, maybe I was, but only for a while. But it must have gotten so unbearable, too depressing. I was an anchor that weakened and weakened until it broke..." She trailed off, thinking. Then she said: "She had killed too many a vampire."

        "But she had to."

        "She did." Lisa conceded. "But it was too much after a while, I know first hand, I helped in the decisions. That's why I don't involve much in my role as new leader of the vampires. Leslie only gave Lucy the means of escape." She smiled, then her smile faded. "Lucy made sure I was okay. Very practical of her. Right?" She smiled again and the tears flooded down her cheeks. "If she still lived and seen this Leslie, she wouldn't want to end her." She thought for a few more seconds. "I'm sure she's happy where she is."

        Mariana nodded slowly. "Me too." Her mind cleared a little.

        Lisa sat back and smiled softly. "Can I trust that you won't attempt against Leslie again?" She asked. "Can you promise me?"

        Mariana looked down and nodded almost imperceptibly. "It's hard, it still hurts." She took an empty swallow, fighting back the tears. After a few seconds, she said: "Just don't ask me to be her friend." She looked up and met Lisa's once again gentle eyes.

        "That's a decision you have to make." Lisa replied softly. "Only you can decide who will be your friend. Maybe sometime in the future-"

        "She killed my parents, Lisa!" Mariana said, cutting her off. Her eyes were full of pain.

        "That Leslie is dead," Lisa said sternly, reproachfully. "She may have the same body, the same eyes, but she is not the same vampire. The one that looks at you from behind those blue eyes is not the same one from sixty-eight years ago. That Leslie left that body from the time she'd woken and she didn't know who she was, and she'll never return."

        "How do you know?" Mariana inquired.

        Lisa smiled. "Don't you trust me?" She inquired in return. She had crossed her arms and legs gracefully, her face was serene.

        Mariana nodded. "Yes, I trust you." She had no doubt about that.

        Lisa smiled, her fangs revealed. "And I trust you." She said, standing to leave, signaling the end of the conversation. "Go feed. It's been days for you, that's why your nose hasn't healed."

        Mariana lifted her hand to her nose; it felt like a lump on her face. "Dear God!" She exclaimed.

        "I'm afraid I broke it." Lisa said in apology.

        "It's okay." Mariana said slowly, still feeling the lump. "I'll go feed."

        Lisa didn't say anything else as she walked out of the bedroom.

LES opened her eyes very slowly. She didn't remember getting into her bed. She lay nude, the soft covers halfway over her stomach. She saw Scarlette standing at the door, leaning against it's frame, her arms crossed. Her hair half fell over her face, her brilliant brown eyes watched Les intently through the strands. "You are healed." Scarlette said softly, not moving from where she stood.

        Then Les remembered what had happened. The memory came like a flash into her brain. The power and strength behind Mariana's soft exterior, her fists, the anger and deep hate in her eyes... That was it, Les had lost consciousness. She looked at Scarlette and said: "I shall leave." She didn't want another episode of the kind to happen.

        "No, you shan't." Scarlette replied softly. "Mariana was dealt with. She shouldn't have done what she did." Her eyes were intensely angry, her cheeks were flushed.

        Mariana thought she looked adorable. She said: "You can't blame her, Scarlette. I killed her parents."

        "You are not the same, Les." Scarlette said, the ever-lasting argument. "That Leslie is dead."

        "I look and act a lot like her, though." Les retorted.

        "Yes," Scarlette agreed. "But would you kill for the sake of killing? Would you take an innocent life?"

        Les shook her head. "But I was the one who did before." She answered. "She won't forget that."

        Scarlette walked towards her and sat next to her on the bed, taking Les' hand into hers. "She can, though."

        "I don't think so, Scarlette." Les said slowly. "There are many vampires out there who haven't. I saw it in Lisa's mind the night you found me. She was worrying a vampire may show itself here and see me. A lot of our kind hate me." She looked into Scarlette's eyes. "Even my vampire mother hates me."

        Scarlette took her into her arms. "I love you, no matter what you did." She said, squeezing her tightly. She ran her fingers through her hair. "You are not the same Les, that Les is dead." She paused, and then continued: "Let me tell you something about Mariana. She doesn't choose her victims. It's not only Scum she kills. Many times, she's taken Innocents to feed her animal hunger. She's killed as angrily as if she were killing the criminal. We don't stop her."

        Les pulled back to look at Scarlette as she listened; she could see the reproof in her eyes. Then she went into her arms again, feeling the comfort of her lover's arms. She pressed her face into Scarlette's neck, kissing it softly. "I love you, Scarlette." She whispered. She pulled back to kiss her softly on the lips; their tongues met softly, in a caress. She pulled back slowly, a question in her eyes. "Did you stop Mariana from hurting me further?"

        Scarlette smiled. "Actually, it was Lisa who felt the commotion. I'd gone out with Emanuel to feed in the city. Lisa called to us and we met her and Lea by the fields." She frowned as the memory played itself in her mind. "I pulled Mariana off you by the hair. I swear to you that I never knew I'd grown stronger over the years! She fell like twenty feet behind us." She smiled a little. "Lea's one strong vampire; you should've seen her. She just took Mariana and held her down as if she were feather."

        "What did Lisa do?" Les asked.

        "Lisa just kneeled in front of her and knocked her out with one punch. Broke her nose." Scarlette replied.

        Les frowned. "I feel guilty." She whispered.

        Scarlette gave an exasperated sigh. "I will not say any more." She said, and erased all thought from Les' mind with just one kiss.

MARIANA strolled down a dark Madison Avenue. At this hour of the night, the street was empty, but Mariana had stopped for a candidate for death as she had flown over the city. Her mind had been set on killing in Greenwich Village, but this victim called her attention. She would claim a victim in Greenwich Village soon enough, after she dealt with this one.

        She was unconcerned about the appearance she presented. She knew her nose was crushed up against her face, but no matter... She planned to make this victim suffer. The victim was a woman, a beautiful woman at that. And a killer... She stood on a corner of Madison Avenue and Fifty eight Street, strolling, ready to solicit, looking for her own victims. She was a prostitute, one of those who enjoyed poisoning her clients and stealing their money.

        Many a rich and notorious businessman had fallen prey to her schemes. Her looks attracted her client/victims with out a problem. She had long black hair and blue eyes, her face seemingly innocent, her lips full and sensual. She was tall, much taller than Mariana's five feet five inches. Mariana walked up slowly to her, the darkness not allowing her bruised face to be seen that well.

        "How may I help you?" The woman asked when Mariana didn't say anything, just stared at her. She was a little drunk, so she didn't see the brightness of Mariana's eyes or skin.

        Mariana smiled, revealing her white teeth and fangs. "How about by giving me some of your blood?" She asked softly.

        "What?" The woman exclaimed, not sure she had heard right. "Listen," She said impatiently. "I don't deal with women," She pushed Mariana away. "So get lost!"

        Instantly, Mariana was in front of her, her hand on her neck, lifting her off her feet. "No, you listen!" She growled at the struggling woman in her hand. "You are going to die." She pulled her to herself and sunk her fangs angrily deep into the flesh, pushing them in until her regular teeth sank through the flesh also. She pulled back, and stared at the bleeding woman through a hungry glaze. The woman stared at her with wide-open eyes, unable to cry out from the pain, bleeding profusely. Mariana fastened her mouth to the wound, and sucked. The blood rushed quickly into her mouth and down her throat to her stomach, sending a warm feeling through her body. Her nose healed in an instant.

        The woman had cried out loudly when the fangs had sunk into her, but now she whimpered against Mariana. She cried out weakly when Mariana bit off her flesh and spit it out, fastening her mouth onto the large open wound, sucking out more blood into her mouth. The woman died slowly, in deep pain.

        Mariana took to the air with her arm wrapped around her torso and headed south and then west, to the Piers and the Hudson River, where she would dump the body. She was still very hungry and craved for her next victim to be a man. Maybe a male prostitute. She laughed at the prospect.


        THE Italian vampire Angelo arrived in Nuuk at the high hours of the Greenland morning. It would be another three hours before the sun would rise on this side of the planet, though not in Greenland. Angelo walked down a dark deserted street, looking from side to side at the colonial styled buildings. He held a gold cane in his delicately jeweled hand; a dark velvet shawl was thrown over his wide shoulders. Angelo, a native of Rome, was the picture of perfection. Sharp, angular features; his short brown hair that was stylishly parted on one side, cascading down to his ears. His bright yellow eyes were hidden behind dark sunglasses in spite of the darkness. His skin was very pale from the lack of blood.

        It was the first time in over seventy years that he returned to Greenland, his only reason being the desire to see Lisa. The last time he'd seen her was sixty-eight years before, when the vampires of Salum had gotten together to discuss Leslie. Angelo still brooded over the renegade vampire that caused all the pain and disaster that destroyed Salum and it's inhabitants. Ten years later, his home became a New York penthouse, in a building in Fifth Avenue. On occasion, he would fly over to Salum and look at its ruins, walk down the dark deserted streets and remember. And he'd hate Les even more.

        Angelo had decided to go to Greenland out of the blue, having woken from that same night thinking of Lisa, wanting to see her again. He had been her lover more than a thousand years ago, having fallen in love with her at first sight. He was eighteen hundred years old, made a vampire by a Viking.

        He had been an Italian manservant sailing from Italy to Spain, where he would be traded for gold. The old ship had been caught in a terrible storm in the Mediterranean, a storm that went out of control. Angelo was knocked unconscious by a piece of flying wood; the sheep had been falling to pieces.

        When he next opened his eyes, he was laying face down on a shore, his face pressed into the sand. The sun was out; no clouds covered the beautiful blue sky. It seemed no storm had taken place. His clothes were tattered pieces hanging from his body; his shoes were completely soaked through. He was surprised when a very strange and pale man in a suit of partial body armor, holding a strange looking headpiece with a horn on each side under his arm, walked up to him. But what surprised him the most was the man's ability to speak perfect Italian. "Do you need help, young man?" He had asked, his voice even, almost lifeless.

        Angelo had felt chills running up and down the length of his spine. Instant desire washed through him; it was all he could do to just answer: "Yes, very much, sir." His voice had been hoarse.

        The Viking had smiled and turned, walking away. "Come with me." He'd said over his shoulder.

        Angelo had followed faithfully, his eyes locked on the back of the Viking's hull head of blonde curls. The Viking led him to a small beach hut. Inside, the Viking turned to him and smiled softly. "Take off your clothes, I'll give your new ones." He had whispered.

        When Angelo was completely naked in front of him, the Viking did not move to get the promised clothes. Instead, he stared at Angelo's body, making him shiver with the intensity of his blue eyed gaze. He walked up to Angelo and looked into his yellow-green eyes. The Viking was much taller than Angelo was, so he had to lower his head to give him a soft kiss on the lips. Angelo walked right into his arms, shivering at the feel of the cold metal against his naked flesh. He'd made passionate love to Angelo, bringing him to levels of ecstasy he'd never reached before. Angelo had never experienced this feeling, this twirling of his senses, this arousal...

        After what seemed like thousands of orgasms, after feeling Angelo's smooth body pressed against his, they talked and talked incessantly, about Angelo's reason for being on the doomed ship, often kissing. "What's your name?" Angelo had asked, it had not occurred to him to ask before.

        "William," The Viking answered, smiling at him.

        "What are you?" Angelo had asked without fear, he had caught sight of the long fangs as they talked.

        "I am something not human," William had answered truthfully. "I know not the name for what I am."

        Angelo had frowned in confusion. "Tell me about you."

        William's bright blue eyes had fastened onto his. "I need blood to survive," He went on to tell him about his powers. "I've been in this world for-" He paused, frowning. "For almost two hundred years." Smiling down at Angelo, he continued: "Don't get me wrong my dear, there are others that are thousands of years older than I."

        Angelo sat up and looked down at William with questioning eyes. "You mean there are vampires that are thousands of years old? How? There was no time before year zero!"

        William smiled his very handsome smile. "Yes, there was, my dear. When do you think your family began, on year zero? This world has been for many thousand years." His voice was tender and full of humor.

        Angelo frowned, more questions popping into his mind. "You've been for two hundred years," He said slowly. "Can't you die?"

        "No," William answered. "Only fire and another vampire much more powerful and older than I can end me."

        Angelo stood from the bed, walking towards the front of the shack, his lithe naked body full of goose bumps from the cool night air. He was aware of William's keen eyes on him, but he ignored them, trying to gather his thoughts. He was curious to know how it would feel to be like William, to see so clearly in the darkness without the need of lamplight, to taste the blood of a human, to be so strong. To live forever, to fly...

        "Do you really want to?" William's voice cut through his thoughts. He was standing by the table, his large-framed pale body illuminated by the small lamp's light. He stood with his legs apart, his larger than life arms crossed over his chest, his blue eyes tenderly looking at Angelo. "Do you really want what I have?" His voice sounded as if it were inside Angelo's mind, William's lips never moved.

        Angelo frowned. "This is too easy, William." He said. "You are willing to just give me this immortality?"

        William nodded. "Yes I am. Because I love you and want you to experience what I experienced, to feel the ecstasy I feel when in the act of love making." He walked up to Angelo, took his hand and pulled him back towards the bed.

        Angelo lay down on his back, William lay on top of him. Angelo wrapped his arms and legs around William. William moaned, nuzzling his face against Angelo's neck. And when his fangs sunk into his flesh, causing Angelo to cry out and moan in surprising pleasure. Angelo felt the life leaving his body, at the same time feeling William pressing his body against his. William slowed his pace and with his slightly grown nail, he cut a wound on his neck for Angelo, who was now weak and his head lolled to one side, his eyes rolled to the back of his head in near death.

        At first he hadn't registered the delicious tasting liquid on his tongue, but then he took a deep swallow and he felt the strong jolt of electric pleasure run through his body, making him release once more. He suckled on the fount of blood violently, feeling William's speed increase once more.

        The small wound healed and William sunk his fangs into his neck again, taking the life from him again. He allowed Angelo to take from him with his own new baby fangs, and they continued like this until William shuddered in orgasm and Angelo held no trace of human blood left in him. The new vampire Angelo fell into deep vampire slumber in his maker's arms; the sun was already out. When he awoke that night, William was not there. He never saw him again.

HE met Lisa more than a hundred years later. He'd been in Athens, Greece; for that last century, he had been searching the world for William. The world that is now Asia, Europe, Africa; the only world that was known to humanity then. He had waited for William in the beach hut for more than three months, expecting to see him walk through the door, smiling at him, kissing him, making love to him...

        But William never returned, never left a trace, a clue, or a note explaining his departure to Angelo. And Angelo, not understanding, left the hut. In those three months, he'd begun to feed off passengers of ships that passed by too. Almost every night that a ship passed near the shore, it would loose sometimes two or three lives; the mysterious killer became a legend in the lands of France and it's pirates and ship workers.

        Growing tired of waiting; Angelo left the hut, his clothes in tatters and falling apart. He followed his senses to the nearest village and fed, stealing the poor serf's old clothes. He left France and to Britain, Scotland, Spain itself, in search of William, not really knew where to look. He encountered others like himself, others who had never heard of or seen the Viking vampire; beings that became one time or temporary lovers to Angelo, whose frantic search for William never ceased.

        He'd been in old India for almost a decade, his search for William having almost been completely exhausted. He'd never gone through Greece, not wanting to go through the Greek land for fear of encountering an old Greek Vampire; he'd been warned of their murderous tempers. And then one day, he decided that if he was to die in the hands of an old one, then let it be; his life meant nothing without William.

        He had been sitting at a table outside a tavern in Athens, talking to a human, measuring him for his meal, when he'd felt the very keen eyes of an old and of an ancient vampire on him. He looked around in confusion, and then he saw her: The blonde haired, gray eyed beauty that stared at him with a sensuous half smile on her full lips. She was standing more than two hundred feet from Angelo, her thin and pale arms crossed over her corseted chest as she looked directly into his eyes.

        Angelo knew he was in love.

        He was confused about the other much more powerful presence whose eyes were keenly fastened on to him. He looked around again, ignoring the human's demand as to what was wrong with him. He then found the source of his discomfort: Another equally beautiful vampire, ancient and much more powerful than the gray-eyed blonde. Her hair was a mass of beautiful auburn waves, her eyes were a deep violet, and her smile was friendly and teasing in its sensuousness. He instantly knew she was the maker of the younger vampire.

        She was standing under the threshold of the entrance to the inside of the tavern. From what he gathered that first instant, he saw that she was much taller than he was, much stronger, and much wiser than he had thought William was. Her eyes went to the young man sitting beside Angelo, who watched open mouthed as the human stood and left him quietly.

        The old vampire walked slowly, gracefully, towards Angelo, her hips swinging slowly from side to side; she held the skirt of her dress up out of her way. She looked in the direction of her blonde companion, and sat down on the chair that had been occupied by the human only seconds before. The blonde vampire walked through the crowd of evening strollers, the light from the street candlelight reflecting off her seemingly alive hair.

        She sat on the third chair, between Angelo and the Ancient one. She looked deeply into Angelo's eyes, her smile making him shiver. "I am Elisa," She said in perfect Italian, having read his nativity in his mind. "My companion here is Lucy," She gestured with her small hand as she introduced. "She prefers to call me Lisa, and so everyone who knows me calls me that. You are Angelo," She said when she saw that he wasn't about to reply.

        He'd been too fascinated with the sound of her husky voice, his mind swept clean of thought. These two were the most beautiful vampires he had ever seen in his long century of vampirism, but Lisa was the one who enthralled him more; who woke his love instinct, which he thought was dead after William had left him.

        Lucy sat forward in her seat and crossed her arms over the table, her plump chest moving upwards, drawing Angelo's eyes; her seemingly porcelain face held a smile that would be terribly ghastly to a human and intriguing to a vampire. "You are alone," She said softly, her voice a gentle caress against his skin. "Why do you search for the one who left you?"

        Angelo had unwillingly delved into her thoughts; she'd left them unguarded in her curiosity. He'd seen certain things there, and retorted mildly: "Why did you go after her, the one who left you also?"

        Lucy was temporarily taken aback, Angelo feared she might grow angry. But then to his relief, she laughed, her eyes watering. "You don't have to answer my question, and I won't answer yours." She replied, a thick wall instantly blocked her mind.

        Lisa took his hand, squeezing it gently. "If we knew the whereabouts of your maker, we'd tell you." She said soothingly. "We have been watching you for some time, only now did we decide to let our presence be known to you." She explained.

        Angelo was surprised. "Since when? Where?" He stuttered with wide eyes.

        "Since the lone land," Lisa said, referring to what was now part of Russia. "About a night or two before you came to Greece. Lucy and I enjoy traveling in the air, our home is really in Britain."

        Angelo smiled. "How old are you both?" He asked.

        Lucy spoke for both of them. "I am not sure of my own age, but it must be at least eighteen hundred years of age. I can only remember that far." She said slowly. "My beloved here is five hundred years of age."

        Angelo gasped. "You were born before known time!"

        Lucy grinned. "Oh, yes!" She said. "Before the human birth of God, during the times of the Great Cities, the times of Caesar and Cleopatra-"

        "Is it all true?" Angelo asked excitedly, cutting her off. "Was our God really born into human form? Were the Great Cities really destroyed by Him?"

        Lucy lifted her hand in a command to stop him, her slim fingers pressed together. "I was in Jerusalem when our Christ was crucified." She said.

        "Did you see him?" Angelo demanded with wide-eyed innocence. "Did he really resuscitate like they say?"

        Lucy chuckled. "Now, you are a curious one, aren't you?" She said, her eyes shone with delight. "I said I was in Jerusalem at the moment of his crucifixion. But no, I wasn't near the whereabouts of his death. I did see him at some point in Nazareth, his homeland. And I may say that this man was the most angelic, beautiful creature I had ever seen! I was curious to see who this Messiah everyone talked about was." She was thoughtful. "Oh and he did see me too." Her eyes sparkled with the memory. "And he knew what I was, and I saw that he knew that there were more like myself, and that he did not cast us into the pits of hell like priests and some of his fanatic followers tend to do. He acknowledged us all as part of nature, of the food chain as they say, as all organisms, including humans, on this earth are."

        Angelo found that there were even more questions left unanswered. "How did this begin?" He asked with wide eyes. "This bloodlust, immortality, strength, the ability to take to the air so easily?"

        Lucy shook her head. "I don't know." She replied. "My maker was five thousand years old, he never knew either. My guess is something unnatural, supernatural maybe, infused in the human body and soul, with the blood, and sparked; sort of like a chemical reaction, and this happened. But we have the same ability to cause the same reaction by will, by infusing our blood with a human." She shrugged, smiling. "There are many theories."

        "Do you know how many of us there are?" Angelo asked her.

        Lucy shrugged, smiling. "No," She said. They'd gone on like that, until the early hours of the morning. Angelo asking questions, both Lisa and Lucy answering with facts, theories, and I Don't Know. When the sun was almost high enough to be seen, Lisa had stood up from her chair and said to Angelo, who was weakening by the second: "Come with us to our lair, Angelo."

        And he accepted without question, wanting to see more of this beauty, this being that seemed so delicate yet was so strong.

        Not long after, they'd become lovers. The ecstasy he felt when being with her in that long year of their involvement was never matched by any other vampire. He was helplessly in love with her, though he knew she didn't feel the same way about him. Lisa and her maker were deeply in love, though Lucy gave Lisa the freedom to have as many lovers as she wished.

        The three of them had left Athens the night after they'd met and had gone back to Lucy's homeland. Britain. She had possession of a castle that belonged to one of her victims. It was so big it could have been a fortress. Angelo had remained there with them, the urgency and hope to find William completely gone. He stayed for a little over a year, until he realized that Lisa would never respond to his love in the way that he wanted. Under their protests, he left them forever.

        He saw her, on and off, through the centuries. Catching sight of each other in cities, spending time together, rekindling their affair, and then leaving each other, not saying when they would see each other again.

        And then, after long centuries of not knowing her whereabouts, after the discovery and populations of North America by the English, well after America's independence, he heard of a new city called Salum in the northwestern woods of New York State, this city elevated by a mysterious group of 'pilgrims'. He knew he had to go there, he knew Lisa would be there...

HE came back from his memories when his senses picked up the sweet scent of a victim. Angelo could pick up the smell of his filthiness a mile away; it's strength never wavered. The victim was a homeless drunk, he had no family, no friends, would be missed by no one. Angelo took to the air, a smile on his youthful face. He wanted to be presentable to Lisa.


        LEANDRA was aware of that in less than an hour or so, she would grow irresistibly tired. Even though the sun would not rise in Greenland, it would rise in their side of the world, and it would affect them. She'd left the house soon after everything was settled, it had bothered her deeply, and she needed to go away or grow frustrated.

        In a way, she did and didn't understand Mariana's reaction out in the fields. She understood because she had once felt the anger and pain that Mariana still carried around, and she had put it behind her long before. But then, she didn't understand because Mariana had supposedly put it all behind her also, and had moved on.

        But Lea knew that it was rather easier for her than for the others to forget, to turn anger into something else, love, curiosity. She thought Les had it easy: To have forgotten it all without a trace of any memory, to have started a new life unaware of the old one. Because Lea had a memory, anything could spark it, cause it to replay itself in her mind as if it were a tape.

        The dark sky was beautiful, there was no sign of the sun making light lower in this side of the sphere. Lea had become so used to sleeping in the day hours, that she had begun to feel tired by the time the sun was on her side of the planet, craving a nice, secluded place to crawl into. She was on the fields, close to the area where the incident between Mariana and Les had occurred.

        She had heard from Lisa of vampires who slept out in the fields, under the ground. She had instantly become curious and wanted to try it, just to see how it felt. She was about to do it, earlier in the night, to sleep for the rest of the night and the rest of the day also. But Lisa had called her, beckoning for her help.

        Now she was down on her knees, her hands digging into the soft ground underneath her. She dug with superhuman speed, a drowsy smile playing across her ghastly features. She was so tired, not having fed since the night before. Quickly loosing consciousness, she let herself drop into the whole, and with all her strength, willed the ground to move over her. In a few seconds, she was completely covered with earth, her eyes tightly shut, her mind loosing complete consciousness, her lungs already shutting down for slumber. Her body tensed, and then she was deep in the vampire slumber that was so much like death.

        WHEN Lea woke, she was wild with hunger, which was tearing at her insides. Without knowing how she did it, she was out of the deep whole, splitting the wet earth with her body. Some of the earth stuck to her pale skin. She was weak, her senses blurred. She took to the air, heading for Nuuk. Her commune was slow and torturous.

        She reached Nuuk with her fangs bared; her hands at her sides like claws, all clear thought banished form her mind. She reached the point of hunger that she would undoubtedly consume any poor human who crossed her path. She tried to listen out for heartbeats, for those who wanted to die, for anyone who wanted to satiate her hunger.

        Lea had gotten used to being a vampire. There was no more guilt when she killed, no more feeling sorry for her victims, only the fierce hunger and strength. She was now feeling the cold, the biting cold of winter, her garments being only an earth-soiled T-shirt and equally dirty slacks. Her feet were devoid of shoes, as she was now accustomed to be.

HER victim this time was not in the street; she was inside her small one bedroom apartment, in the kitchen, with a knife in her hand. She wanted to die, this poor young woman; her life was such a misery. Her live-in lover had left her a month before, when he found out that she was pregnant. He'd promised to return if she had an abortion. And even after she'd had it done, he didn't return; he'd found a new lover. She lost her job, as an accountant, when she allowed her depression to go out of control, missing work or getting there late. Her family didn't want anything to do with her, they had warned her about getting involved with the guy.

        She was once a beautiful young woman, with a surprising cleanliness that attracted many. She had lost all of that in one year of abuse and drugs. Her once glossy brown hair was now a mess of greasy strands; her shiny brown eyes were now an opaque brown and held no possible hope of recovery. She once had a body full of curves and appealing hollows; no she was thin and unattractively wiry.

        And she stood in her kitchen, bent over the sink with one wrist turned upwards, the other hand shakily holding the sharp knife close to the upturned wrist. She had written a long note full of explanations and apologies to friends and family, full of I Love You and Good-byes. She was ready to slice when a slight sound and movement caught her peripheral sight.

        She slowly turned around and stared at the intruder, the interrupter and deliverer of her destiny. She wasn't afraid neither of the fierce eyes nor of the bared fangs. Rather, she welcomed the monster that was undoubtedly beautiful; she didn't wonder how she got in or what she was doing there. She walked towards the beautiful monster, a smile on her lips, looking deep into the cat-like eyes.

        She took the cold hand and pulled her towards the bathroom, wanting to take care of her, to clean her, to take her to bed... The victim knew that this was the deliverer of her death, the one who would take away the burden of suicide.

        In the bathroom, she removed the dirty clothing from Lea, admired the beautiful pale body. The breasts were full and round to the human eyes, the engorged nipples a beckoning. She took off her own clothing and stepped into the bathtub, pulling Lea in with her. She turned on the shower to warm-hot, moving closer to Lea, wrapping her arms around her neck and kissing her.

        Lea responded to her kiss, feeling the water running down her back, slowly removing all the dirt from her body. She was going to give her victim what she wanted. Ecstasy, and then death. In bed, Lea kissed her fiercely, making her gasp and moan with pleasure. And then suddenly, she was down between her thighs, sinking her long tongue into her ready wetness.

        Her victim squirmed and moaned, her hips thrust upwards violently. Lea tasted her everywhere, caressed her, no longer feeling, just experiencing her animal hunger. She smelled the coming menses and her hunger for the blood flared. She groaned deeply, as she tasted the blood from the menses, and took all the menses that were still behind the cervix, her body jerking violently, the force of the small amount of blood ecstatically shooting through her. The young woman was crying out in ecstasy, her body buckled with every orgasm that tore through her body.

        Tears were in her eyes, her whole body quivered, her hips still thrust in little waves of orgasm. She felt Lea's unbearably soft lips move up on her body, kissing her stomach, her nipples, and her mouth. And then her neck, licking the smooth skin slowly, savagely. Heard the low groan rumble from her throat.

        And then her fangs tore through the skin, the sound of the tearing skin ghastly. "Yes!" The victim gasped, digging her fingers into Lea's stone back, feeling Lea's hips jerking quickly against her own.

        Lea took the blood from her in big gulps, feeling her orgasm coming to her body, running through it, sending a lightning storm of sensations that made her moan loudly. The heart beat slowly to a stop just as Lea's orgasm subsided. She remained on top of her for a while after her victim died, and then she pushed herself off her.

        Rational thought returned to her mind as the warm and tasty blood ran through her veins. "I guess we should thank each other, Jenya." She whispered and closed her eyes, listening out for more victims; she'd grown accustomed to having more than one victim a night.

        Lea stood up from the bed, stared at Jenya for a few long seconds and turned away. After fitting some of Jenya's clothes, she covered her victim with the blanket and left the apartment without a backward glance...

        They'd find her soon enough.

Book Two Continued in part VIII

Katia N. Ruiz

original fiction index | xena homepage | what's new | amazontrails.com