By L. Crystal Michallet-Romero

Disclaimers: None needed. This is an original piece written by me back in the middle 80’s, and since revised for 2004. Since reworking this little tale, I have signed a contract with Limitless Dare 2 Dream Publishing (http://www.limitlessd2d.net/) and look forward to turning the entire tale over to them as soon it is completely edited.
Rated: NC-17, not intended, or suitable for children.
Violence: Yep, there is some vampire revenge in this chapter.

Sexual Content: There is a heterosexual, bisexual as well as lesbian scenes hinted at in this chapter.

Sexual Violence: None in this chapter.

Vampire Violence: Yep, vampire’s can be just as angry at each other as we mortals.

Subtext:  Of course.

All feedback welcomed at: CrystalMichallet@aol.com

Crystal’s web site at: http: //www.charani.org/XenaFanFicMichallet.html

The candles from the shrine in the corner cast an eerie glow within the basement room. Each candle was laid out in perfect order according to each saint. The flames from the wick swayed to an unholy dance as the images of the saints on the glass holders appeared to come to life. While the scent of the beeswax candles wafted in the air a humble servant remained kneeling before the altar, his lips moving slightly as he recited the prayers while his hands clasped the prayer beads in hand. The dim glow cast a reddish hue over his neatly trimmed goatee. His shoulder-length black hair hung loose, which caused the shadows to fall haphazardly over his strong, masculine features. Owing to his condition, the beads he held during prayers were not the traditional rosary but were Tibetan Mala prayer beads. Every once in a while his gaze looked up at the wooden statue on the wall. Even though the figure was stretched out in the shape of a cross, because Fernando thought of it as a hand carved statue of the blessed Jesus and not a crucifix, he could look upon it with his vampire eyes.

Unlike Tamara, Fernando believed in Heaven, Hell and Purgatory. He believed in the angels and placed his faith in the saints. From the time that he was a niño he was raised according to the sacraments of the Church. The young lad had learned all of the lessons needed from his catechism classes, and now as an adult he felt his foundations firmly rooted within the doctrines. He believed in Las Doce Verdades, The Twelve Truths, and could recite them all by heart.

Without fail he attended midnight mass to listen to the holy words of the Padre and join in the Alabados. As an altar boy Fernando led the hymns. His sweet soprano voice sang the words with all his heart. As an adult his smooth tenor voice blended in perfect harmony with the rest of the congregation. This never changed after he became part of the un-dead. As a vampire, the only part of the services that he could not partake in was the act of Holy Communion, and this saddened Fernando. His devout nature mourned this simple act of paying homage to his beloved Messiah.

With prayer beads in hand, Fernando looked over his shoulder at the figure sleeping in his bed. For the first time since being initiated, Sahar was resting comfortably under the covers. When she first awoke after the attack, she was filled with the normal fear and anguish that comes from such a brutal rape. But after Sahar's fears were quieted and he assured her of her safety, the dreams began to plague the new vampire. The only thing that Fernando could do was to remain close and comfort her as best as possible.

As he watched her sleeping peacefully Fernando realized that although they had become friends over the years, Sahar's shy and quiet nature revealed almost nothing of herself. While he glanced at her shadow he wondered where she had come from and how her path had led her to this place. As he returned his attention to his prayers, he reflected on his own childhood and remembered his family as if it were yesterday.…

The youngest of thirteen children, Fernando had never known the hardships that his siblings underwent. While his older brothers and sisters spent the day working, his abuela y abuelo kept Fernando close at home because they feared for his safety. For reasons no one was able to explain an evil brujera, a woman skilled in witchcraft, cast forth her powers and promised that Fernando would be cursed with an eternity of darkness. Fearful for their Hijo, he was never allowed to wander alone too far from home. For the young boy, there was no other life outside of the small adobe home his family lived in.

Only when the sun lowered in the sky did Fernando's mother, father and siblings return home from their long day of work. While his mother and sisters worked in the house of a local rancher, his father and brothers were employed as vaceros, ranch hands. Being hearty and robust, the men in his family worked hard, and this pleased the wealthy rancher who employed them. Between their numbers and expertise they were able to not only breed the future generations of horses, but they also were able to tame the wild nature of the beasts. Although Fernando was not allowed to join them, he received his greatest pleasure by listening to the stories of the day from both his brothers and sisters.

By day Fernando's mother was a maid in a fancy home on the outskirts of Guadalupe, and at night when she returned home, she would relax and partake of the food that his grandmother had made. It was during these times when the family shared their tales of the day. For young Fernando, he loved to listen to the intrigues of the manor house. The gossip that his sisters shared could keep his mind filled for many days, and the adventures of his brothers and father made him proud to be in their family.

This is how young Fernando's life began. During the day he would listen studiously to the lessons of his grandmother. She taught him how to tend to the numerous herbs in her garden and how to carefully mix the plants that would cure the villagers of their various ailments. When not learning the healing lessons, Fernando shadowed his aged grandfather and helped with the feeding of the animals. Everyday the lessons of the Church were prominent in his life.

Each morning before the sun rose, the boy went with his grandmother across the open land to the nearby church at Guadalupe. As they walked he paid attention to his abuela's story of Nuestra Señora de Guadalupe, the Virgin of Guadalupe. All of his life Fernando listened to this story with interest. He felt uplifted every time he thought of the fact that the Blessed Virgin had appeared to Juan Diego, a Mexican Indian. The story of her appearance bolstered the young boy's faith in the divine. Not even his grandfather's words could sway him from the teachings of the church.

"Hijo," Fernando's grandfather had said once as they stood together on a hill that overlooked the small adobe. "I'm going to tell you this story once, and once only," the wizened man waved him closer. Like a conspirator, he knelt down in front of his grandson and began to speak softly.

"Hijo, my great grandfather, may he rest in peace, knew Juan Diego," abuelo said. When Fernando's eyes grew wide with surprise, the old man smiled a toothless grin as he sat upon the ground and patted the grass next to him. "Si, our family knew him, and as the story goes, Juan Diego wasn't always his name. It was the name that the gavacho Church gave to him. He was like us, a Nahuatel Indian, but to the Church his birth name wasn't good enough so they changed it for him. As for the story of the Virgin appearing to him," the old man smiled, winked, and then made a motion with his hands as if drinking from a bottle. "I remember my abuelo retelling the stories told to him, and as it was said, that Juan, he was always drinking the spirits, Hijo," a wink and rueful chuckle escaped the old man's control, which brought laughter from the young boy.

"Then he didn't see the Blessed Virgin, or have the miracle happen, abuelo?" Fernando had asked.

"Oh, Hijo, I never said that," Fernando's grandfather turned solemn. "Mount Tepeyac is where Tonantzin, the Aztec goddess, used to live. Once long before the invaders arrived and took the land of our people, Tonantzin was the great mother and protector of our people. Our ancestors would go to that mountain and leave offerings and say prayers for their protection, and the goddess would bless them with her presence. You see, Hijo, over time the gods and goddesses transformed into the new gods, but it doesn't mean they change. They are still the same, it's only the names that have changed," the old man's expression was solemn. "There was a time when our people owned this land, but now we are servants. Some say if it hadn't been for the vision of Juan Diego, we would not be here anymore," the old man stated solemnly.

"Why, abuelo?" Fernando's curiosity was never-ending.

"Because, Hijo, once the Blessed Virgin showed herself to an indio, the Church had to admit that we were humans with souls and not animals. Yes, Hijo, if it were not for Juan Diego's vision, I'm not exactly certain where we would be today," the old man grew solemn as he looked out at the scenery of the valley. Adobes like their own were scattered across the land. In the distance were the neatly arranged fields and plantations. If he looked hard enough, the young niño was certain that he could see the hacienda where his family worked.

Before Fernando could reflect on this, his grandfather's arm wrapped around his shoulder and pulled him close. "The thing to always remember, Hijo, is that just like the goddess Tonantzin has changed her name, she is still the same - still our indio goddess. Si, no matter how things change, no matter if the land changes before us, what is in here," the old man tapped his chest, "what is in our hearts will never change. That is what is always important to remember."

Although he may not have understood his grandfather's lesson at the time, as Fernando grew up, and especially after he was initiated into the vampire life, he soon realized the value of his grandfather's words.

Fernando had remained close to home during most of his childhood. Because of the curse, he was never left out of his family's sight. So day in and day out young Fernando did his chores. He went to catechism, attended mass and said his daily prayers. Like his madre and abuela, he prayed for the Blessed Mary's protection against whatever darkness might befall him and he tried his best to make his family proud.

Nothing about Fernando would have struck anyone as odd. True, he did not play rough like his brothers, nor did he care to spend time with his brothers doing manly things. He was just as comfortable staying home as he was being with his sisters when they worked at the Hacienda. At a time when boys began to notice girls, Fernando realized that there was something very different about him. But it was a difference he could not speak of openly.

While his brothers would talk and brag of their lustful feelings for various girls, Fernando remained silent. After all, how could he tell them that the only time that he felt such feelings was when he walked by the corral and watched the other men working? How could he explain that the hardness that he woke up to always followed a dream of men? And how could he explain that when he heard the women talking of the handsome men they had spotted, he longed to be able to join in their conversations. At fourteen, Fernando knew enough to keep his thoughts to himself.

This all changed when Fernando turned sixteen years old. This was an age when many of his brothers and sisters were already married and beginning their own families. But Fernando hadn't followed their steps. His mother continued to say that he was destined to be a padre, a holy man, but even this Fernando could not confirm. So instead he kept close to home. He continued to say his prayers and attend mass. He was as dutiful a son as anyone could be. So on that fateful day while running an errand for his mother, he did not think that anything would change.

Always mindful of the curse, his mother was reluctant to send Fernando alone to the hacienda where his brothers worked. But at sixteen he spoke up in an attempt to prove his manhood. He was no longer a child, he had argued, and an errand to his brothers would not cause any harm. With his father's backing, he took the first step that would lead him on the path that was to be his destiny.

Javier was another vacero at the ranch where Fernando's brothers worked. Although married with three children, there was something about Javier that attracted Fernando's attention. It might have been the way that his pants enhanced the shape of his ass. Or perhaps it was the way that he would stand off from the men after a hard day's work. The tall, muscular brown man would remove his shirt to reveal the little curls of hair on his chest. With sweat beading across his tawny muscles, the man would douse himself with the water that the men cleaned up with. Fernando noticed that there were a number of women who would make an excuse to be around when Javier allowed the water to fall heedlessly down his muscular torso, and Fernando was no different. As he hid in a prime spot out of human sight of the other men, and the few women, he would watch Javier's every move as the bulge in his pants grew from the sight of this spectacle.

On the day he ran the errand for his mother, Fernando knew that he would not be a witness to the man's bare chest, but he didn't care. Just being able to watch Javier work was enough for the sixteen-year-old. After delivering his mother's message, Fernando looked around at the men on the ranch but did not see Javier anywhere. Rather than call suspicion to himself, he bit down his disappointment and began to make his way back home. But his sadness soon ended when he saw the man of his desires in a secluded shed.

Javier stood taller than Fernando. Already a man, his neatly coifed mustache moved each time his smiled. When the man saw him, he called out a warm greeting and waived the teen to the shed. At first Fernando looked behind him thinking that Javier was calling to another, but when the older man continued to smile and nodded at him again, Fernando felt his heart skip a beat.

On that day Fernando learned what made him different from his brothers. At only sixteen he did not know the ways of love. But with the gentle vacero, he soon learned the pleasures that could be derived from the love of a man. From that day forward he did everything possible to meet Javier. Sometimes it was during the daytime in secluded parts of the ranch. Other times he would sneak out late at night and meet Javier in their barn. Although their time was fleeting, it never seemed to bother either man. Fernando knew that Javier had to return home to his wife and children, and Javier never asked more from Fernando than he could give.

For a time this is how he lived his life. He attended daily mass with his abuela, did his chores, and on Sundays he would confess to the padre of his love for a man. After a few Hail Mary's, he was free to go and sin no more - in a perfect world. But the world was not perfect, and once having tasted the forbidden fruit, Fernando found that he could not give it up. So for a few years he balanced the fine line of guilt and pleasure. Each time his mother talked of him going away to learn the sacred script, he tuned her out and thought only of Javier.

This all changed one lazy afternoon when he had stolen some time away with Javier. Their love affair had been going on for a couple of years and he never thought anything about it, so on that day when they were in the barn Fernando paid little attention to anything around him. All he concentrated on was the feel his lover against his back. The manly arms, strong enough to lasso a wild horse were now wrapped around his torso. A calloused hand was stroking him to pleasure even as Javier's hard member buried deep within Fernando's backside. The sweat that dripped from his lover's body mingled with his own. The young teen bucked against his lover like one of the wild colts that Javier would tame. In the back of his mind Fernando could feel the coarse hair on Javier's chest rubbing against his smooth back. Just as he felt his lover climaxing out of control, the squeaky sound of the barn doors hinges mixed with the sounds of their pleasure. No longer concerned with anything around him, Fernando cried out from the exquisite release even as he gazed at the shocked expression of his mother. If he had been in the right frame of mind he would have stopped what he was doing in order to pull up his pants, and beg his mother for understanding. He would try to explain the great love he had for Javier. But as the intense pleasure rocked through him, he was anything but coherent. Instead of doing the right thing, he continued to rut like a beast as the sounds of his mother's footfalls on the clay reached some part of his hearing.

Later that day both his mother and father took him to the padre. After confessing his sin yet again, the Holy Father forgave him, but this time it would not be easy to overlook. With the secret now out a decision had to be made, but Fernando was not ready to make take the steps that would lead him into the priesthood. True, he was devout and he did believe in the teachings of the Church. But to give up his life to serve the Church completely was not his calling. After a great deal of shouts from his parents, Fernando felt he had little choice but to leave his family at the age of eighteen.

"Es usted loco? Are you crazy?" Javier shouted as he stood outside of the small adobe where his wife and kids lived. At the open anger from his lover, Fernando felt the tears suddenly falling down his cheek.

"They want to send me away to be a padre!" the young man tried to explain.

"Then go! Go and be a padre, just don't come here again!" Javier grabbed him by the arm and began to drag him away from the house. When a young woman looked out of the door, Javier turned and snapped at her, "Go inside!" He shouted as he shoved Fernando away.

"B-But you said you loved me; you said you cared!" the teen wept as he tried to understand the change in his lover.

Javier released his grip and looked away. His moustache seemed to twitch and his brows turned into a frown. After a moment of silence the bigger man sighed as he ran his fingers through his dark hair. When he looked back down at Fernando a slight smile curved his lips as he pulled the younger man to him.

"Listen mi amor, you cannot stay here, not with my wife and kids. Entendo? It cannot be," Javier whispered softly as he held Fernando in a hug. When he pulled away he smiled down at the young man and wiped the tears from Fernando's cheek.

"Come, I know where you can go and not have to become a padre," Javier said as he went and saddled his horse. In silence they rode away from the home. As he sat behind his lover Fernando basked in the feel of the strong man. A few times he rested his cheek against Javier's back. He inhaled deeply and committed the man's aromatic scent to memory. When the teen lightly kissed the nape of his lover's neck, it brought about the desired effect and for one last time they made love in a secluded place along the way.

Only when dusk fell and the chill of the night surrounded them did they don their clothes and continue their journey. To Fernando's surprise Javier had taken him to the ranch of Don Felipe de la Peña. Neither his brothers nor Javier worked for this man, yet Javier seemed to know him intimately. As one of the richest ranchers in Guadalupe, Fernando had seen Don Felipe around town and especially at mass, but he had never given the older, portly man much thought. Like Don Tuscany, he was simply another rich Hispania who owned much of the land. But on the day Javier took him too Don Felipe, Fernando realized for first time how much they had in common.

"So, the young man needs a place?" Don Felipe smiled as he glanced lustfully at Fernando. His pencil-thin moustache wiggled like a worm as the man's thick jowls moved into a smile. For the first time in his life, the young man realized what it must feel like to be a prized bull.

"Don Felipe, Fernando, he is…" Javier looked down as a crimson shade crossed over his cheeks, "he is very dear to me, Don Felipe, please.…"

The older man glanced up at the ranch hand; his smile grew compassionate as he reached up and patted the taller man's arm. His large round belly heaved with each breath he took as his little arms moved to comfort the vacero. With a serious expression, Don Felipe nodded as he turned his attention to Fernando.

"Of course, Javier, I understand. You have no need to worry," Don Felipe promised.

True to his word Fernando had nothing to worry about in the home of Don Felipe. He joined a group of men his age, and although the bedroom was crowded when he arrived, they all accommodated him. On that first night he soon learned that each of the men had a fondness for their own gender, and this both surprised and pleased Fernando. He quickly realized that although he had felt alone at times, he truly was not the only one.

For the next five years he spent his days working for Don Felipe. He quickly became known as one of "Don Felipe's boys," a title that he did not mind because the old man was kind to them all. While some worked in the kitchen, others tended to the chores throughout the house. Fernando's job was to cater to Dona María de la Peña.

Dona María de la Peña was a kindly older woman who believed in the sacraments of the Church. As her personal servant, in addition to being her companion for conversation, Fernando was required to attend mass with the older woman on a daily basis. On Sundays he and "Don Felipe's boys" would sit in the back of the church in the balcony seats as they attended mass. Fernando never minded his duties because it enabled him to continue with his worship. What tore at his heart was seeing his family every Sunday.

At first his family was shocked by Fernando's presence, but quickly they began to ignore him. Only his grandmother would defy his parents and speak to him every Sunday after church. This is when Fernando learned that his parents believed this was the curse handed to him. Because he did not repent and try to curb his longings for men, his mother believed that this was the evil darkness predicted before his birth. But his grandmother did not believe this. She had no views on the way he lived his life but continued to tell him to always go to church and pray for the Blessed Virgin's protection because somewhere in his path he would come across a great evil. So although his heart broke to have lost his family, a part of him rejoiced at the solid presence of his abuela.

For most of his days as a house servant Fernando saw little change in his daily routines. When not helping his mistress he would assist the servants with keeping the large ranchera clean. Only after many days of working for the couple was Fernando summoned to Don Felipe's private room, and it was then that he experienced a different form of physical love. With Javier he was always subservient and he learned how to overcome the pain of penetration to the point where it was enjoyable, and this is how he would share himself on occasion with the rest of "Don Felipe's boys." But never had he thought to be the aggressor, until he spent time with the older man. Soon Fernando learned that there were many ways to love and give love and he would always cherish the lessons of these times.

It was a sad day when Don Felipe passed away. There was not a dry eye in the house, and the day the old man was buried brought out everyone within the small town - everyone with the exception of Don Tuscany and his wife. But no one seemed to notice their absence because the town was mourning the loss of a beloved patriarch. Soon after his death Dona María decided to leave the village of Guadalupe to return to her home in Vera Cruz. Coincidentally, it was around the same time that Don Tuscany had passed away mysteriously, but unlike Don Felipe, there was no grand funeral for the man. Instead, the end of his life passed without any fanfare. No longer able to live in a place without her husband's presence, Dona María decided to return to where her comadres lived. Although she had invited Fernando to join her and the rest of the staff, a part of him remembered the curse and was afraid to leave the sanctuary of his village, so instead, he went to work in the service of Madame Tuscany.

The transition to working for Madame Tuscany was an easy one. Although Fernando missed the presence of "Don Felipe's boys," he soon began to realize that there were others like him as he ventured out into the nearby village and town square. Once or twice he ran into Javier, who was now older, graying and larger in girth. His wife, although once a beauty, was now round and portly. Her once shining black hair was now salt and pepper and was pulled back in a haphazard braid. Breasts that were once perky now hung low from the numerous children that she had fed, and in her arms she was always cradling a baby while the other children were in tow. Like Javier, his wife had grown old and haggard from the numerous children that she had birthed. On more than one occasion Fernando felt the older man's eyes gazing lustfully at his youthful body, but Fernando would never again return to his first lover, not even for an occasional romp. One fact that he learned while employed by Don Felipe was that not only was he a capable servant, but he also could be a passionate lover for the right man. So Fernando swore to never again allow his heart to wander off so fleetingly because he knew that somewhere out there was the man who could be everything to him….

At the sound of stirring from his bed, Fernando rose up from his place of worship and moved to the bed. Sahar remained deep asleep, her pale features angelically peaceful for only a moment before she began to thrash under the covers. When he touched her forehead, he sent forth a soothing calmness in the hope that it would help her.

"Shush, ya ya Hija, I know, I know," Fernando whispered softly as he offered Sahar his comfort. "Soon, Hija, this time will be past you. Soon, I promise," he said but was not certain if she heard his words.

Fernando knew what Sahar was going through because he had been there himself. The distortion of her vision and hearing as well as the never-ending hunger was something that all vampires had to become accustomed to. Thankfully for him, his initiator had been with him through the transition. Once the Persian calmed down, Fernando returned to kneeling before his altar. As he returned his attention to his prayers, he reflected on his own crossing over and remembered the time of his own initiation into the darkness.…

At twenty-three Fernando had grown accustomed to his own differences. He was not like his brothers, nor did he try to be. While they strutted around like macho bulls he allowed his feminine ways to rule. No, Fernando always knew that he could never be like them. He could not bring himself to swagger, nor did he bed all of the female servants who crossed his path. Maybe once or twice he had attempted such feat, but each failed attempt reinforced his conviction that he was different. So rather than try to be someone that he was not, he was simply himself. While this may have proven foolish to some, for him it was the only way to be true to his nature. He was still a man, merely a different type - one who loved other men.

A short time after arriving at Madame Tuscany's hacienda, Fernando found himself helping to prepare for a grand fiesta, a huge party held at night with lively dancing. While most of the staff claimed the festival honored the marriage of a daughter, a few whispered it was actually the veija's way of celebrating her husband's death. Though initially shocked by the thought of anyone celebrating such a tragic event, after hearing how horribly the old man treated her, Fernando admitted that the death of such a beastly man was a blessing in disguise. So as the excitement of the upcoming festivities filtered through the ranch, he went about his duties with growing anticipation.

Throughout his years as a house servant, Fernando became accustomed to the politics of the house. He knew enough to keep his silence and learn from the example of the other servants. While he did not fully understand what made the veija different, he followed the rules and kept his distance from the area of the home where she resided. Unlike Dona María de la Peña, Madame Tuscany required that he be available for her late in the evenings. After a few days of adjusting his schedule, he was able to stay awake long enough to serve her the strange red liquid that she required for her health. When not tending to her needs, the young man assisted the servants with making ready the numerous cottages and rooms that were to be used by the traveling musicians.

Everything before their arrival caused a flutter of excitement for the entire staff. The group of twenty musicians arrived the night before the wedding was to take place. While the ranch hands were already gone for the night, the entire staff of house servants was abuzz as they watched the men begin to unload the crates and boxes of instruments from the wagons. When Fernando noticed a particularly long box, his curiosity was set off, but he was not allowed near the item and was kept at bay by one of the musicians. Although Fernando did not understand the burly man's actions, he merely stood aside and waited for the group to settle in for the night.

Later that evening when he took his mistress her usual glass of tonic, Fernando was surprised to see a handsome man sitting next to the old woman. His neatly combed black hair was slicked back, and his moustache was neatly trimmed. The dark clothes he wore were a style that Fernando had never seen before, and he assumed that it was the latest fad in some of the east coast cities. Although the stranger barely paid any attention to Fernando, in the single moment he glanced Fernando's way it felt as if the visitor had seen into the depths of his soul. With a nervous gulp, all the servant could do was leave the entire pitcher of red liquid for the Madame and her guest.

When Fernando went to sleep that night in the room filled with the other male servants, a most unusual dream came to him. Although he knew that he should have been afraid, he was not. Instead in his dream he found himself going willingly into the strange man's arms. With tenderness he had never known, this exotic man made such sweet love to him, and when Fernando awoke before the others, he found himself quickly dressing in order that he could run to the outhouse to relieve the very painful bulge between his legs.

On the evening Madame Tuscany's daughter was married, Fernando skipped the wedding in order to ensure that the stage and dance floor were carefully set up. As the workers were laying out the planks of wooden boards, the servant would glance occasionally at the cluster of homes that housed the musicians, yet each time he looked he could not see the stranger from the night before. When the entire place was set up and there was nothing left for him to do, he retreated to the hacienda to bathe and dress for the night.

If Fernando had any reservations about attending such a big gathering where he might see his family, he did not show it. Rather than worry about what his parents still thought of him, he continued with his duties through to the end. Only when everyone had been fed and the drinks provided did the musicians take to the stage. As the first twinkling lights began to appear in the sky, the music from the mariachis filled the night with beautiful melodies. Although the entire group was talented Fernando found himself fixated on the lead singer.

Antón Fulgencio Prieto was not like any man Fernando had ever met. Unlike the ranch hands, Antón was always fashionably dressed. His neatly combed hair highlighted his pale complexion. His moustache was trimmed so it lay like an even blanket over his upper lip. His face, although not overtly handsome, was pleasant to look at and his voice was crystal clear. When he sang the corridos, all eyes were on him listening with rapt attention as he told the folktales of their past. Just as easily adept at corridos, his smooth baritone could pick up the heartfelt emotions of the canciónes as he sang of lost love. When Fernando heard the pain within the man, he felt his heart skip a beat as his breath caught in his throat. Just when he thought he was becoming accustomed to the man's exquisite voice, Antón would pick up the beat and begin to sing a song of festival. So filled with emotion was his voice that the audience could not help but yodel their approval, and Fernando was no different. Through song after song he listened to each nuance of the man's voice until the party came to a close.

When the last of the guests left the hacienda, Fernando bolstered his courage and went to the singer's adobe. Before he could even knock on the door, a young man opened it and smiled at him. The Indian, although shorter than Fernando, looked only a few years younger than him.

"I wondered how long it would take for you to come," the young Indio's bright white smile caught Fernando by surprise. "My master was expecting you," he said as he stepped aside and invited Fernando into the room.

Antón sat in one of the chairs, his face concealed by the shadows. Completely mesmerized by the man, Fernando smiled as he moved toward the stranger. From somewhere behind him he heard the sound of the door slowly closing, but he did not turn; instead he stood before the man as the sound of his own heartbeat rang in his ears.

If Fernando had remembered the curse given before his birth, he would have known to leave the man alone. But the moment he was in the presence of this exotic stranger he could not help but move closer to the forbidden fruit. Nothing, not his teachings in the Church or the warnings of his abuela could have warned him away from this captivating soul because deep in his heart he knew that this man could love him completely as no other could.

On that night they made love. Antón's cold, gentle hands touched him tenderly. When they became one, Fernando thought he could feel all of the love that this magnificent man felt for him, and it pleased him greatly. From that night forward Fernando made certain to always be with Antón. By day he attended to his duties. Each night that Antón joined Madame Tuscany for dinner, Fernando made certain to be the one who served the enigmatic guest. A few times he thought he heard his lover whispering sweet words for him alone, and when he would glance at the distinguished guests at the table the conversations between Madame Tuscany and the singer still flowed without skipping a beat. If it were not for the slight wink that Antón gave him, Fernando would have wondered if he was losing his mind.

It was not until later that Fernando learned the trusted secret of the man. While a part of him wanted to recoil, to push away the gentle touches of Antón, his heart could not grow cold. Growing up, he had heard the stories of La Llorona, the weeping mother of the water, and the tales of El Cucui, the creature who stole away naughty children, but he had never heard tales of the un-dead. Now, understanding what Antón was helped him to accept what his mistress, Madame Tuscany, was. Despite the knowledge he was not repelled by either Antón or his mistress.

"Make me one," Fernando felt the words flowing from his lips so easily.

Laying naked in the dark, he felt the coldness of his lover pressed against his body. The man's exploring hands suddenly stopped as he remained silent. When the shock of Fernando's request wore off, the kindhearted man leaned down and kissed him gently. "Mi amour, you do not know what you ask," Antón whispered as he nuzzled against Fernando's ear.

"I know what I ask; I know what I want. I want you to be the one," Fernando whispered again as his own hand was exploring the bigger man's body.

"Ummmm….shush, my love," were Antón's last words as his lips took hold of Fernando's. Just as they had done for the past few nights, they explored each other fully. His hands pulled at Fernando's hips and angled him in the familiar position. Raising his hips higher, Fernando wrapped his arms around his lover's neck and held him in a tight embrace as their mouths were locked in a kiss. When he felt his lover's cold hardness enter him, he cried out in pleasure as he wrapped his legs around the man's torso and pulled him closer. In was sometime during this mating that he heard Antón's gasped question.

"Are you sure, mi amour? Do you want to be forever in the darkness?" Antón asked, and all Fernando could do was groan in pleasure as he pulled his lover deeper into his body.

"Forever," Fernando thought he heard his own whisper rise in the room.

It was then that the young servant felt a sharp pain on the side of his neck. If they had not been making love, if the ecstasy of their joining had not been so intense, he might have cried out in pain. But instead he felt himself rising higher and higher in pleasure. With one final cry, Fernando felt himself spilling his own seed on his lover's chest as his body grew suddenly slack. Just as he felt the darkness of life disappearing, he heard his lover's commanding voice somewhere in the back of his mind. Drink my love, drink and feel your life forever changed, Antón's whisper echoed everywhere and nowhere.

Fernando instinctively reached up and felt his teeth latching on to the soft flesh of his lover's neck. Although his own body was too weak to move, he felt his lover continuing to thrust within him even as Fernando drank the sweet tasting liquid of his lover's life. With each gulp, each swallow of blood reinvigorated the mortal's life. Before he noticed a change, Fernando felt a sharp pain deep in his heart as the images of his entire life suddenly passed before him. Just as he pulled away from Antón's blood drenched neck, he felt his lover cry out as he released himself deep inside of Fernando's body. The combination of sensations caused the young man to groan as he closed his eyes to the overwhelming feelings.

"Shush, mi amour, calm yourself," Fernando heard his lover say and suddenly realized that he had been crying like a babe. "It will be all right. I will remain with you; I will not leave you, Fernando. Just let go," were the last words that he heard.

Antón did not leave him. As Fernando's mortal life ended, the singer was by his side gently brushing his forehead or whispering softly. As he went on the first journey of all immortals, Fernando saw the blood-red world suddenly flow up around him. Each time he grew afraid he thought he heard Antón's voice gently coaxing him to continue with the journey so that he may return. After what felt like an excruciating time, Fernando awoke with a pain deep in his stomach. He shivered and wept as the sounds and sights around him were suddenly amplified. For days and days he was sick, unable to rise from bed and had to be cared for by Antón. His ever-gentle lover tended to him and spoke softly. Through the haze of his initiation Fernando heard the singer's words speak of the tale of the battle of angels. As he dreamt his first vampire dreams, his initiator never left his side. Eventually when the pain was too great, Antón brought in his servant. With his gentle tutelage Fernando learned how to drink the young man's blood so as not to cause pain. As the days slowly passed, he learned from his new vampire father how to live as a creature of the night.

Fernando could no longer walk in the sun, nor could he partake in the holy sacraments. The first time he tried to hold his rosary beads, he burned his hands, which brought about laughter from Antón. "You can no longer do that, Hijo. You are now unholy and a thing of the night. God is no longer your friend; he is not our friend at all," his lover lamented sadly.

As he watched the man pull on his shirt, Fernando only frowned as he glanced wistfully at the rosary that his abuela gave to him. Sensing his sorrow, Antón took a piece of cloth and picked up the beads and cross. After carefully wrapping it securely, he handed it to Fernando and gently placed it in the palm of his hands.

"Do not fret, Hijo, you will soon learn that we are like the angels. We are blessed with many gifts that the mortals do not have," he assured.

"I wish you were staying to teach me all of these things," Fernando spoke up, as disappointment laced his voice.

"I know, but it is not right. I have taught you all that I can. It is now time for you to find another teacher, si? If we stayed together for too long, you could grow to hate me, entendo? You will see, mi amour that this is the best way for us to be. When I return to this place again, we shall make such sweet love, and you can show me all that you've mastered," Antón winked.

Antón was correct. Once he left, Fernando found another immortal teacher, and as time passed by he mastered all of the powers that were now a part of his new life. Although he continued to attend midnight mass, he never saw his vampire father again, nor did his biological family accept him after the change, not even his abuela. But for Fernando, it did not matter because he soon realized that he had become a member of a clan that was far larger than any family he had ever known….

As Fernando knelt before the small altar in his room, his lips silently mouthed the prayers as his memories from long ago slowly disappeared. Soon after his initiation Madame Tuscany had decided to relocate her entire family to a new frontier known as Alta California. To all who asked she grumbled about wanting to be free of her husband's memories, but Fernando knew the real reason for their quick departure. The land of Mexico was rumbling with insurrection and rumors of a revolution. A brash young officer fresh from his battle of Tampico was swaggering and boasting of the greater things to come. Although few paid heed to Antonio López de Santa Anna, Madame Tuscany, having the fresh experience with her own petty dictator of a husband, knew that times ahead would not be pleasant. Before the entire memories could replay for him, Fernando's thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the sounds of the new babe.

"Papi, " the baby's voice called to him from the darkness.

Fernando set his prayer beads aside and moved quickly to the initiate. Sahar's body was deathly cold and her hair was disheveled. Ever since being initiated, she had become like a child again. The feelings she had, the cravings that now dug deep within her soul, combined with the new senses were always overwhelming at first.

"Qué, Hija, ya, ya, you're alright; you're fine," Fernando cooed as he moved to her side. Although the room was bathed in darkness, his vampire eyes saw her as clearly as if it were daylight. When he smiled and ran his fingers through her hair, Sahar visibly relaxed and instinctively moved into his arms.

"Here, Hija, drink. You need to regain your strength," Fernando, aware of Sahar's acute vampire hearing, spoke softly as he held a glass of blood to her lips. At first the newborn drank it slowly. Then, suddenly realizing what it was, her face screwed into pain as she spit it back into the glass.

"Aye, Hija, " Fernando exclaimed as he pulled away, set the glass on the nightstand, and then grabbed a nearby towel. He tsked slightly as he quickly wiped away the mess, "Hija, you have to drink this; you have no choice now."

"N-No, Papi, I-I can't," the newborn whispered softly, then the sounds of her gagging filled the room as she fought to hold down what little remained in her stomach. It had happened this way when she first tried to drink. The moment she realized that it was blood, what little humanness remaining within her rebelled against the primary needs of her new vampire body. Fernando understood the hard transition that his adopted child was undergoing.

"Ya, ya, don't think about it," Fernando tried to be as gentle as possible knowing that the taste of mortal blood would take getting used to. After he cleaned her up and settled her back under the covers, he laid down next to her.

"Papi, I had the dream again," Sahar whispered as her arms reached for him. Pulling her into a tight embrace, he held her close, as his lips left a soft kiss against her cold forehead.

"Ya, Hija, I know, I know. Pues, it always happens to us," Fernando whispered.

"I dreamt of a red world and a sea that ate the earth…a-and a storm of fire filled the sky," Sahar retold the first dream that all vampires had upon entering into the world of the un-dead. Fernando's protectiveness suddenly rose within him and he sighed deeply as he pulled her closer.

"It's El Diablo, Hija," the young servant whispered as he silently said a Hail Mary and a blessing of protection. "You are in the vampire's purgatory, Hija. It is a dark and cold world filled with much fear. The Devil is fighting for your soul, but you have power, Hija, don't ever think that you don't have the strength to stand strong against his evilness," Fernando's sage words floated in the air.

"El Diablo? " Sahar said the foreign name, her slight accent sounded strange to the male vampire.

"Sí, Hija, " Fernando felt her body slowly relaxing in his arms as he began a familiar narrative that once was told to him many years ago. "Once, a long time ago, El Diablo was in heaven with the angels, and he grew jealous of God's power.…" his voice droned on even as the babe began to fall asleep in his arms.

Fernando never thought of himself as the nurturing type. He never even liked children, so the idea of bringing babies into the world, either when he was a mortal, or now as a vampire, just never crossed his mind. But the moment he saw his dear friend he knew that he could not turn his back on her. Just seeing Sahar laying there naked with the bastard finishing up with her, Fernando wanted to break the first tenet of their kind. If it had not been for Tamara he knew that he would have killed Shannon. The bastard should die, he thought, but just as the image escaped, the guilt of his own desires gripped his soul. No, forgive me Señora de Guadalupe, pardon Tonantzin, it is not my place to lay condemnation, he silently prayed even as he spoke to his new child.

Yes, Sahar had become his child. Fernando had not sought her out, nor did he ever have plans of procreating immortal children. But he was put into this position, and he could not turn away his old friend. No, she is no longer an old friend, she is my hija and now my responsibility, he reminded himself as he smiled down at her.

Fernando knew that he could not turn Sahar over to Aurore. While the teen may have initiated Sahar, she was not capable of parenting a new immortal. Her ways were childish, and her actions beneath those of a vampire. Aurore never thought of anyone beside herself. For Aurore, life was meant to be enjoyed, and if she hurt people in the process, she had no guilt over it. She was, in essence, a babe who had brought a babe into the world. This was the worst combination because now that a new initiate was in their world; the immortal babe was now left alone. If it had not been for Fernando, Sahar might have ended up in misery. With no one to help her through the transition, or to teach her about her acute senses and new powers, the Persian might have gone mad or worse. She might have chosen to end her new life by walking into the sun. No, although Aurore was not fit to have a child, she did and now it was left to Fernando to tend to and care for the new immortal.

"Tamara is right, one should never be brought over as a child," Fernando repeated a comment that he once heard his friend say. At the sound of his voice, his baby stirred in his arms. "Shush, nothing Hija, it is nothing," he soothed and watched as his newborn fell back into a deep slumber. As the sounds of footsteps in the kitchen registered, he remembered the time when Aurore was still a mortal…

Fernando had been a servant and servants were not supposed to become involved in the matters of their masters. This much he had learned from his own parents who had been servants all their lives. As far as the young vampire was concerned, the turmoil of the house, the illness that was quickly consuming the girl was simply another part of life. Mortals were born, and mortals died and were sent on to their eternal rest with the angels. Only vampires were allowed the luxury of eternal life. This is how it had always been, and as far as Fernando was concerned, how it would always be. This simple fact was something that the young man had appreciated.

Although only a servant, Fernando was privy to the secrets of the house. The intrigues within the manor were all that he needed to keep himself occupied. It never failed that whenever he was dressed in his servant's uniform he was able to go freely through the hallways. When the madam was holding special meetings with the leaders of the vampire clans, Fernando made certain to be a part of the staff that would serve the drinks. Only at this time was he able to walk amongst the immortals, his uniform and silence making him virtually invisible to their eyes. As he served their drinks he listened to the intrigues and politics of the immortal world. This is how it had been when he heard of the teenager's illness.

"She will not make it," the pain etched every word from the veija. The grande dame's features were deep in thought.

"I know, it will be soon," Tamara stood by the open window, her gaze staring out at the darkness.

Fernando had known Tamara from the first day he had joined Madame Tuscany's staff, shortly after the death of her husband. At the time Fernando was mortal and knew nothing of the night creatures, so the rumors surrounding Master Tuscany's demise he heard from the servants made little sense to him. The only certainty that the young mortal had was that if the man had disappeared into ashes, as was rumored, then he must have committed a grave sin against both God and man. It was later after he had become an immortal himself that he finally understood the whispers of the house. But even then it did not matter to him because in his own way, he loved Madame Tuscany as if she were his own grandmother, just as Tamara did. The pain the old woman felt over losing her granddaughter was mirrored in the tall black woman.

"If she is to be brought over, then it must be soon," the young servant heard Madame Tuscany say as a tired sigh escaped her control. Despite her fatigue, she managed a slight smile at Fernando before she took the cup he was offering. Nodding at her gesture, he moved to the African and held out the silver tray. Tamara uncharacteristically ignored him as she moved away from the window.

"In my tribe, no mortal is ever brought over so young," Tamara's voice sounded like a whisper. Her feet echoed on the wooden floor as she paced the length of the study.

"You would have me ignore the pain of my hija?" the clan matriarch looked down in defeat.

Tamara stopped and looked at the woman, her expression filled with grief. With a strangled cry the African knelt beside Madame Tuscany. Her larger hands engulfed the old woman's and held them in tightly. "No grandmother! How can I ask of you what I am unable to do myself?" Tamara pleaded as the tall servant slowly backed from the room.

Fernando had not heard the rest of the conversation but he knew what they were planning to do, which is why he was not surprised when Madame Tuscany asked for his help later on that night, after the girl was already turned into a vampire. He initially became worried that she would ask him to bring over her grandchild, and although he had nothing against the girl, he never wanted to initiate anyone into the darkness. Thankfully the first request that his mistress made was for help to get to the teen's room. Once the aged matriarch was settled next to the dying mortal, Fernando left the room and waited outside of the girl's door. While he waited to be summoned, Tamara silently paced the carpet in front of him. Only when the old woman left the girl's room did the African run in to join Aurore.

"Fernando, my hija will be hungry later, can you?" the grande dame asked when she emerged from the room as her gaze fell expectedly upon him.

"Of course, you need only to ask," Fernando bowed his head in subservience.

"He must be clean…and handsome," she mumbled half to herself as she looked around in confusion.

"I will find the cleanest one. I promise the man shall be fit for a princess!" the male servant smiled as he thought of how much fun it would be to look through the throngs of mortal men for the one who would be Aurore's first feed.

"Good….good," Madame Tuscany mumbled as she began to walk slowly away. "Help me to my chambers," the old woman spoke softly. Her normally gaunt and pale features seemed far more haggard than before.

"Si, Abuela, " Fernando used the term affectionately as he helped her down the long hallway. When her body all but collapsed next to him, he gently lifted the frail woman in his arms and carried her through the house. As Fernando held her small body, he realized how fragile the old woman was, and he began to appreciate the great strength it took for her to run the immortal clan….

Fernando thought back to that time from long ago and a slight sigh escaped his control. Sometimes it had seemed like a lifetime ago, yet other times it seemed like just yesterday. As the sound of footsteps was heard in the kitchen, he recognized a familiar voice. Without waiting for an invitation, Anecita began to make her way down the steps and into his bedroom.

"Fernando?" the Spaniard's soft, melodic voice called down to him.

Throughout the years that he had known her, Anecita had proven to be a loyal friend and if he had to give a name for her, she was like his comadre - his best friend. He could remember how close his mother was to her comadre and how they used to share secrets with each other. Since arriving in California Fernando didn't have a close friend until the arrival of the Spanish woman. With her taste for women and his for men they had become inseparable.

"Fernando, qué está sucediendo?" Anecita's clear, proper Castilian accent echoed in the darkness.

From the first day that he met her, Fernando envied her accent. He always knew that his dialect was different from the Spanish who had invaded Mexico, but he had never been able to master the sound until he began to spend a lot of time with Anecita. After a few decades of being so close to each other, his words began to flow with the same Castilian accent. For many who heard them, they often asked if they were brother and sister, which caused them to giggle at the thought.

As Anecita walked down the steps the hollow sound of her leather boots clicked against the wooden stairs. Dressed in tight, faded, boot cut jeans, a white man's v-neck tee shirt, and knee-high motorcycle boots, the tall woman made her way slowly down the steps. Her waist high leather jacket hung loosely over her arm. By the flickering of the candlelight Fernando noticed the slight sparkle against the silver ring on the side of her riding boots.

"What is happening?" Anecita asked again in English as she stepped close to the bed. She glanced down at the scene for a moment before she reached up to push aside her long locks of straight black hair. Although Fernando could not see the frown on her face, he knew it was prominent even as he hugged the baby close.

"Sahar," he whispered softly as he lightly brushed the sleeping woman's hair from her face. His gaze passed over his baby as he tried to figure out a way to help her.

"I heard," Anecita tsked as she knelt down by the bed. When she was in front of him, he could not help but notice how her tight white shirt clung seductively to her flesh. He knew that her feminine beauty would be enough to attract many women because he had witnessed her powers of seduction first hand. When he felt her palm against his arm, Fernando turned his attention away from the new initiate.

With a tired sigh the vampire very slowly extracted himself from Sahar and laid her on the bed. Tenderly Fernando touched her forehead and mumbled softly, "I'm worried, Chica. She won't drink anything; it's been too long. She needs to start getting her strength back."

Anecita gazed down at Sahar, her brows creased into a frown. "Do you think she has empacho? You know how that sometimes afflicts us when we first crossover," the immortal woman suggested as she gently rubbed Sahar's abdomen through the blanket. The sleeping woman moaned softly before falling back into a deep slumber. Anecita looked at him with an "I told you so" look as she rose to her feet.

With a slight frown that made his goatee scrunch up, Fernando turned away from the tall woman. "I did that first. The indigestion and tummy ache passed already. No, it's much more than that," Fernando bit his lower lip as he tried to think of how to help his baby.

"You're sure you swept the egg over her enough? Did you leave it a full night under the bed?" Anecita questioned as her right brow rose. She absently bit her lower lip before folding her arms. As she was deep in thought her finely manicured fingernail tapped against her delicate chin.

"Aye, Mujer, that's not for empacho! That's for mal de oja, and I doubt that anyone gave her the evil eye!" Fernando exclaimed as he shook his head in disbelief.

"Que mal, que empacho, I know nothing of this folklore brujera stuff!" the tall, dark-haired woman protested as she moved away from him and began to pace the room. When she glanced at the statue on the wall, she tilted her head in thought, then reached for it and straightened the crucifix on the wall. Before Fernando had even looked at her, Anecita was back by his side.

With a shake of his head, Fernando turned on his best friend. "It's not brujera, it's curanderismo There is a difference between empacho and mal de oja, just like there's a difference between brujera and curanderismo. Brujas are evil and use dark magic, curanderas help by using herbal remedies," he insisted.

"Fernando, what is happening with…with…"

"The baby," the servant crossed his arms defiantly and raised a brow threatening her to defy the place that he now had put Sahar into.

Anecita's hazel eyes gazed at him for a long moment before she moved near the bed. "What is happening with the baby is not anything new or surprising. Mujer, you know what has to be done," her voice was leveled and even.

At her openness, Fernando was ready to strike back. The words he had rehearsed threatened to spill from his lips. Before he could bite back with an acid comment, he looked down at Sahar and watched her restless sleep. With a slight frown he looked back at his best friend, then motioned with his head for them to move to the kitchen. As he walked up the steps Fernando heard her following behind him. Once at the top, he watched as she joined him in the light. With a slight smile, Anecita nodded at the maid as she draped her leather jacket over the back of a kitchen chair. With a slight blush, Magdalena smiled before turning to Fernando, a look of concern etched her features. Her mortal eyes shot from the two vampires, and then to the darkness coming from the basement room.

"Fernando?" Magdalena stepped forward as she wiped her hands on a kitchen towel.

"I know, sweetheart, but no, you can't go to her. She hasn't accepted her first feed yet. Untrained and in her condition, she could turn on you. Please, just wait," Fernando smiled gently as he patted her arm. Although it wasn't obvious, he knew that the young housecleaner cared deeply for Sahar. It was not evident in the way they spoke to each other, but he could tell every time the mortal servant looked at the Persian, and the way she shyly looked away whenever Sahar gazed at her that there was affection in her heart. If Sahar had not belonged to Briannon, he would have mentioned it to his clueless friend. But knowing that she was spoken for and understanding the trouble that she would be in for even starting another relationship, Fernando chose to remain silent in hopes that the maid's infatuation would wane.

"Just sit on the top steps; let us know if she awakens," Anecita instructed, completely oblivious to the emotions of the human. "Fernando, I heard about what happened, but where is Briannon in all of this?" his best friend's intent gaze held his.

"Aye…it's a mess, just a mess," Fernando shook his head as he leaned tiredly against the counter. "Briannon went loca, completely loca and dragged Shannon from here in chains," he explained.

"Well good for her! Especially after what they did," Anecita moved to the refrigerator and removed a bottle. After popping the lid off a bottle, she began to drink the red liquid down.

"Este gringo estupido no vale la pena; mejor que se vaya a lamerle el culo a la puta que lo parió!" Fernando spat out, as his anger against Shannon rose up. Anecita stopped in mid-swallow; her eyes growing big with surprise. Throughout their many years together she had never heard him raise a curse that was filled with such venom. Not even trying to hide his feelings for Shannon, Fernando nodded as he ground his teeth in pure frustration and anger.

"That's right, Chica, you heard me. The stupid gringo isn't worth anger; he can go and grab the buttocks of the whore that gave him birth!" he spat out again as he began to pace the length of the kitchen.

"I agree, Fernando, I do. But right now you have to think of the baby. If Briannon cannot help, then we've got to figure out a way to help Sahar through this," Anecita's ever-logical voice brought up a fact that he knew.

His best friend moved to a chair and casually sat down. Her hazel eyes glanced at the maid who was now sitting on the top basement step. With a slight tilt of her head, Anecita gazed at the hidden curves of the young mortal. Magdalena was dressed in her gray maid's uniform, her knees drawn up as she stared down into the darkness. Her long dark hair was pulled back in a tight braid that hung past her shoulders. Her smooth brown flesh indicated her Indian heritage, and her slender nose and slightly full lips were enticing to anyone, even an immortal. The delicate arch of a brow was creased into a frown and her dark brown eyes were filled with concern. Even in such bland clothes and with the stress of worry on her countenance, the young maid's beauty could not be hidden. As if feeling eyes upon her, the maid looked up and caught Anecita's gaze, but turned quickly away as a blush crossed her mortal cheeks.

With a slight smile Anecita turned away from the maid and looked at Fernando. When she saw his frown, she shrugged her shoulders and then leaned forward, her elbows on the edge of the table. As her hands encircled the bottle of half-drunk liquid, she looked down. Her brows furrowed in thought. Fernando knew her thoughts before she even voiced them. If they could not get Sahar to hold down blood, then how could they help her through the difficult days ahead?

As the fatigue of the past events bore down on him, Fernando sighed as he turned away from his friend. Even with his vampire strength, he was growing weary. With his hands braced on the sink, he gazed down with unseeing eyes as he tried to find a way to help his newborn.

"Fernando, you know what she needs," Anecita spoke up, her voice was like a soft whisper.

The tall man shook his head in frustration. "Even though I tell her it's beef and not human, she's not holding down the blood. I've tried every way to serve it to her, I made it hot, added hominy and told her it was menudo, but she would have nothing to do with it. Then I served it cold and told her it was gazpacho, but no natha!" he waved frantically, and then added, "I even froze it like a popsicle, pues, she just won't hold it down," he shook his head in defeat. "It's as if her mortal memories are keeping her from ingesting it," Fernando looked down in defeat as an expression of sorrow crossed his features.

"Fernando, right now she needs fresh, human blood. You know this as well as I do. The need to feed, the hunger that is gnawing at her is not for anything other than human. That is how she will regain her strength. Once her body has accepted it and she can hold it down, then you wean her from mortal blood to other animals," his friend argued as she rose from her seat and moved by his side.

"Ya, ya, Chica, yo entendo. I do understand, but with Sahar," he shook his head as he turned away from the sink and began to pace the length of the room, "It's just not that easy."

"I could find someone - someone who she could feed from. I know I don't like the idea myself, but Fernando, if she doesn't eat soon then…." the tall woman shrugged her shoulders as she leaned against the sink her boots made a slight clipping sound against the ceramic tile. With arms folded in front of her, she watched her friend closely. Her long dark hair hung seductively past her shoulders.

"No. You don't know Sahar like I do. If her first feed results in the death of a mortal," Fernando shook his head in frustration, "it would not surprise me if she were to walk into the morning sun." The expressions on his features were grim as he tried to think of a way out of their situation. Anecita bit her lower lip as her brow creased in concentration. Before either one could speak, Fernando felt a slight touch on his arm.

When he glanced down, he noticed the maid look cautiously at him. There was a pained expression in Magdalena's dark eyes. "Fernando…por favor, use me," her soft voice pleaded softly as her eyes grew misty.

The tall male servant held the mortal's gaze before looking up at his friend. Anecita's hazel eyes remained fastened on him. When her head tilted slightly he noticed the color of her eyes change between a slight yellow tint to a light greenish brown. At his continual silence, her delicate brow arched upward in a silent question. Although the solution was suddenly clear, he held reservations. Before he could deny Magdalena's request, his best friend cleared her throat. Her eyes still fastened in his, the corners of her lips curved into a slight smile before her gaze moved to the maid, and then back to him.

"It could work," Anecita agreed.

"Magdalena, do you know what you're offering?" Fernando asked as he searched the woman's words for sincerity. She maintained his gaze as she jutted her chin up defiantly.

"This I give willingly for…a friend. It's not like having it taken from me by some pendeja who thinks I am beneath her!" the anger of what Aurore did to her was still fresh in the woman's mind. At Magdalena's resolve, Fernando looked at Anecita who was off to the side. Her head was bent as if in thought, and her gaze glanced up at him to gauge his response. When he searched her for an answer, she gave a half smile and shrugged her shoulders.

"Pues, the answer to the problem has just volunteered her services," was all Anecita said as her glance moved from Fernando to the mortal servant.

Before he could change his mind Fernando took the younger servant's hands in his. He gazed deeply into her eyes in an attempt to gauge her resolve. When Magdalena returned his stare with a confident smile, he winked and gently clasped her hands in his.

"Are you absolutely certain of this, Honey?" he asked again, his voice low and calm.

"Si, Sahar…she is…" but Magdalena could not finish her sentence. Instead, she shrugged her shoulders as a blush crossed her cheeks.

"All right, Honey, wait here until Anecita calls you down. Chica, can you change the bedding for me while I hold her under the shower," Fernando asked Anecita before he quickly moved into action as he made his way down to his cellar bedroom.

"Change the bed sheets?" Anecita's tone was filled with bewilderment as she rushed behind him.

"Please, Sweetheart, you don't think I'm going to let their first time be in such a smelly mess, do you?" he looked at her with a look of shocked horror as only he could hold.

His best friend smiled as she shook her head and muttered under her breath, "Loca. "

Ignoring her tease, Fernando felt a spurt of energy causing him to move quickly through the room. As the look of worry creased his features, his hands animatedly fluttered about. "Come now, we must hurry. There is much to do…before I change my mind," he whispered under his breath as he moved to the huddled mass of the new initiate.

As Fernando lifted the lithe form in his arms, he heard a slight moan coming from her. After the abuse and transformation from life, to death, to eternal life, Sahar's incoherent form was growing worse by the minute. Each time she refused to drink, or threw up what nourishment he managed to get down her, she grew weaker.

"Shush, Hija, you'll be all right. We need to get you showered up," Fernando whispered as he carried her to the adjunct room that he had built. The bathroom facilities were not as grand as what could be found upstairs, but they were functional for his needs. Without a care for modesty, he quickly pulled the shirt off of Sahar before pushing her into the shower.

"What?" the Persian moaned as she gazed around her, confusion and fear filled her eyes as she leaned heavily against the wall. Her back was to him as her body seemed to cower against the wall. The shivers rippled across her body as she fought to remain standing.

"We're going to help you, so no arguments," Fernando kept his voice low as he quickly stripped off his clothing and entered the shower behind her. If she was embarrassed by being naked in the shower with him, she did not show it. Instead she reached for him. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders as if she was trying to hold on to the anchor that kept her stable.

"Why? What?" Sahar mumbled, and then groaned when he turned on the shower. As if to seek out his protection, she turned and buried her face against his chest. The tears began to fall even as the shivers crossed her body.

"Ya, ya, Hija, everything will be fine, you'll see. Just trust your Fernando. Yes, I'm not going to hurt you; we're only trying to help," the vampire assured as he quickly washed her clean. Before the shivers took total control of her, he did as good of a job as he could do. While she wept uncontrollably, he took great care to clean her thoroughly knowing that even as she slept, her weak and ailing body had sent forth the worst aromas of her transition. Once finished, he spoke words of assurance even as he wrapped her in a large towel and sat her upon the closed toilet seat lid.

"F-Fernando," Sahar's lips quivered from a chill as he quickly dried himself and pulled his favorite pink robe on. When he glanced down at the baby, she looked like a pitiful sight. Her shoulder-length hair was hanging limp. The body towel around her did little to keep her warm, and she shivered as if she had just come in from the cold. Looking at her, Fernando could not help but think of a pitiful wet cat that had just come in from the rain.

"F-Fernando…I-I hurt…it's cold," Sahar groaned as he quickly took a dry towel and dried her off. Before he was finished, she grabbed his hand and held him still. Her intense blue eyes looked into his. "Fernando, a-am I…dead?" Sahar asked, her voice a frightened whisper.

Fernando gave her a half-smile as the palm of his hand gently cupped her cheek. "Si Honey. As you know the word, you are dead, just as I am and so many others. But this does not diminish who you are as a person. It does not mean that your existence is over. Soon you'll have your strength back and then, Hija, I will show you what you need to know to live in the world of the un-dead. Would you like that?" he smiled and waited for her answer.

A sorrowful sigh escaped her control as her eyes became teary. Sahar smiled softly as she nodded acceptance of his offer, "Thank you, Papi. "

The immortal servant understood her unspoken words. Fernando knew how alone and afraid she was and was grateful that he could be there to help her. Just as his own initiator had walked him through these first steps, he silently promised to remain by the new baby's side for however long she would need him.

When she was dry Fernando tossed her towel aside and lifted her in his arms. As he carried her through the darkness he heard the slight commotion from his room. Only when they were in the room did the voices suddenly die out.

Lying in his bed was the naked form of Magdalena. With only the altar candles for light, she watched them approaching, her eyes wide with fear. Anecita stood in the shadows near the stairs, her alert gaze moved from the maid to the baby and then to Fernando. When they were close to the bed, the mortal woman swallowed her fear and smiled up at them before lifting the clean covers as a way of inviting Sahar into the bed.

For a long time the Persian did not seem to see the woman in the bed. She continued to shiver as she kept her eyes closed. When Fernando gently lowered her, she opened her eyes and saw the scene before her.

"N-No…no," Sahar groaned as she turned away, her arms clung tightly around Fernando's shoulders.

"Hija, listen to me, listen!" Fernando knelt before the bed and held Sahar in his lap. The immortal man gently pried her arms away and began to hold her steady as she weakly fought against him. "Sahar, honey, you've got to do this. Magdalena has asked to help you. She wants to help you through this. Sweetheart, listen, I won't let anything bad happen, understand? I won't let you hurt her, I promise," he whispered close to her ear and felt her struggles lessen. "Listen, baby, you have to do this if you're going to survive. Do you trust me?"

Sahar looked at Fernando through the diffused light. Her gaze remained intently on him. When she accepted his promise, a look of pain crossed her features. Smiling at her, he lightly touched her lips. "There now, everything will be fine," he whispered right before he helped her to crawl into the bed.

When he stepped back he watched the two bodies becoming slowly familiar with each other. Their hesitant touches soon led to full explorations of each other's bodies. If he were a man who was interested in women, he might have received a perverse pleasure from the unfolding scene. But Fernando felt detached as he monitored his immortal baby closely. He watched for any signs of loss of control and was ready to step in and pull Sahar from the mortal before any harm could be done. At a noise by his side, he glanced over his shoulder and noticed Anecita climbing the stairs. With an arch of a brow he asked her a silent question.

"Pues, I can't watch this; it's too much for me. Call me if things get out of control," a slight pant escaped her control as a gentle scent of her arousal reached his nostrils.

"Lusty lesbian!" Fernando mockingly whispered and shook his head, then returned his attention to the new initiate and mortal.

Sahar's breathing was labored as her hands roamed freely over the mortal body. Pleased by her attentiveness, Fernando nodded to himself as he knelt before the two. Kneeling in a crouching position he watched carefully as he reached out with his vampire senses. He felt the hunger gnawing at Sahar's innards and felt her hesitation. The underlying fears emerged even as her bodily cravings began to surface.

"Hija, reach out with your mind, feel her thoughts," Fernando whispered as he moved closer to the bed. As if in prayer he clasped his hands together as he closed his eyes. He could hear her thoughts as clearly as his own. Each time he felt Sahar's fear, he reached out to soothe her. When he felt her first tentative steps into the immortal world, he nodded and spoke soft words of encouragement.

"Yes, Sahar, do you feel her?" Fernando asked at one point, and was rewarded with a slight moan. When he opened his eyes he saw their outline in the darkness. With the sheet fallen from her back, he watched as the initiate was rubbing her pelvis over Magdalena's raised knee. The new vampire was slowly kissing the mortal's lips as her hand was buried between the soft, pliant legs of the mortal woman. Ever dutiful Sahar experimented with her new powers and sent forth soothing thoughts as her fingers brought delight to Magdalena. Each time the mortal felt fear, the Persian was quick to ease the emotions. Only when she began to climb toward her own climax, did it feel like her grip loosened. With an angry growl, Sahar's features instantly changed to the beast of the night even as the mortal looked away and bared her neck for her immortal lover.

"N-No…." Fernando heard a slight moan from Sahar as she shook her head negatively.

"Si, Hija, this is the only way. Do not fear; I will not let you hurt her. Trust me, Hija. Trust your papi," he cooed softly as he reached out and stroked her back.

Sahar seemed to take strength from his touch and with a groan of pleasure she lowered herself to Magdalena's neck. Fernando knew the moment that the maid's flesh was pierced when he heard her cry out in pleasure and pain. The sudden aroma of her desires filled the room as the Persian greedily drank of her life-giving offer.

"Si, Hija, si. Drink what Magdalena has to offer. It is love, Hija. She gives to you out of her love. Always cherish such a gift, always cherish such a love," Fernando spoke the same words that were spoken to him those many years ago.

With eyes closed he carefully monitored both souls. The male vampire felt his beloved baby slowly growing stronger as the mortal rose in pleasure. As wave after wave of orgasm rocked Magdalena's body, Sahar held fast. Only when Fernando lightly touched her back did a shockwave seemed to sear the Persian's soul.

"Ya, Honey, enough," was all he said as she pulled away. With head thrown back Sahar closed her eyes as her hips ground down on her lover's body. A guttural cry of pleasure came from deep in her chest even as the fresh blood dripped from her sharp canine teeth. Only when her orgasm ended did Sahar fall like a rag doll over the mortal's body.

"Hija, lick Magdalena's wounds. You need to close them, Honey. Do it now," Fernando spoke softly to his baby and watched as she obediently complied. When she stopped, he leaned over the maid and inspected the wounds. Pleased by what he saw, he released a sigh as he began to remove Sahar's limp body off of the woman.

"No, please," Magdalena whispered as she wrapped her arms protectively around Sahar's fatigued body. When Fernando noticed the slight smile on her face, he nodded as a sigh escaped his control. He gently pulled the covers over the two, and then brushed the palm of his hand over the maid's arm.

"Thank you," he whispered before he tucked the blanket around the two.

Before he could even finish, Fernando felt the two begin to fall asleep. As quietly as a church mouse, he rose and walked up the steps to the kitchen. When he entered the kitchen, Anecita looked at him expectantly. After he nodded, the dark haired woman released a sigh as she poured some orange juice into a glass and then removed a straw from a drawer to take to Magdalena.

Fernando felt a slight chill as he paced in the kitchen. Pulling his robe closer around his body, he began to wonder what was to become of their clan. Briannon would be taking her revenge out on Shannon, and that is how it was meant to be. By nighttime Aurore would be returned to them as well. And Sahar, with this first feeding over he knew that she was now on her way toward fully entering into the immortal world.

When Anecita walked back into the kitchen, she glanced at him as she put the empty glass into the sink. With an arch of a brow, she examined him closely. Sensing his inner turmoil, she tilted her head, brushed aside the long strands of her hair, and turned to him.

"Que, Chica? " she finally asked.

Fernando felt his breath catch in his chest. As he looked deeply into Anecita's eyes his eyes grew misty. In hopes of staving off the tears, he began to fan his face as he blinked away the wetness. Then, when all hope was lost, he sighed as the droplets fell heedlessly down his cheeks.

"Our baby is growing up!" he wailed as he fell into Anecita's arms.

In a single, swift move, his best friend sat in a chair and pulled him close. As he knelt before her, he wrapped his arms around her torso as he allowed the stress and anxiety to leave his body. With little else to do, he wept uncontrollably.

"She's growing up, our little baby is growing up!" he wept. "She won't be my baby for long," the words came from him like a miniature whimper.

"Ya, ya, mujer, it will be fine," Anecita cooed as she rubbed his back. "She'll always be your baby. No matter what happens, Sahar will always be your hija, " his best friend assured.

Despite her words of comfort, Fernando could not help but feel a bit of fear. He remembered back to the time of his initiation and his gentle lover, Antón. The lessons he learned were ones that he had passed on, for the first time, to his newly adopted daughter. Although Anecita promised that Sahar would always be his baby, a part of him was afraid that he would lose the Persian just as he lost his beloved Antón. Yes, it was true that Fernando was not Sahar's lover, but if history repeated itself, she would have to leave him to begin her life alone, and this pained him greatly.

As he wept uncontrollably, Fernando closed his eyes and held fast to his best friend. Anecita spoke soft words of comfort as her strong arms held him close. Although he was fearful for what the new day would bring, he hoped that she was right. He hoped that he would not have to lose his adopted baby, his immortal daughter, Sahar.

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