The woman removed herself from Matteo and advanced towards Jenda slowly. The wide smile was still plastered on her face. She addressed herself to Matteo as if Jenda was simply an object in the room. “Why Matteo, she is the perfect one to choose for such a gift, don’t you think?” Without waiting for a reply, she continued her assessment. “I knew she would be a beauty, but have you ever seen such red hair with such flawless skin? Not to mention her ferociousness, did you hear her thoughts just now? I daresay she may have tried to rip your face off if I hadn’t entered first. I see now why you so charmingly refer to her as a Baobhan Sith. She could fit in with our Irish cousins quite well.”
The woman might have gone on for hours. Jenda got the impression that she was the type who loved to hear her own voice. Jenda’s temper could hold no longer. She let out a string of curses directed at both of her companions. For someone who blushed over the slightest four-letter word only a week ago, she was definitely using the worse half of her vocabulary today.
“How…how dare you come in here appraising me like I’m some new toy? After all, you psychopathic monsters have put me through. Did you kill my best friend? Where are my parents? I swear that if you hurt them, I will kill you both. What do you want with me and what the holy hell is a Baobhan whatever?” Jenda’s voice was growing hoarse from screaming but she didn’t care. As she ranted at her captors, she took one bold step after another. She found herself standing face to face with the blonde woman, not caring that she could see the black clouds building in her eyes.
Jenda saw the change as it happened. The woman’s pale blue eyes clouded over with the gloss black color of astonished hate and then, as if someone had injected ink into the iris, the scarlet red of blood lust filled them. She raised her hand to strike Jenda and hissed like a cat coming face to face with a Rottweiler. The menace in her face contorted it into an ugly mask of hatred.
Before she could strike, Matteo stepped between the two women. His voice was calm and a little patronizing as he addressed the attacker. “Signora Günter, what a waste it would be to destroy that fine bone structure now. The child is understandably upset; we have put her through quite a lot for one mortal.” As he spoke, he reached one hand out and gently stroked the woman’s arm. “Why don’t you meet Jenda and me in the dining room? It will give me a chance to teach the girl some manners when she is addressing someone who is so obviously her superior in every way.”
“Of course, Matteo, you are always so wise.” The woman he addressed as Signora Günter sighed, “I’m afraid I have never had much patience for naughty children.” With that, she let out a girlish laugh and smiled at him with a knowing wink. Then, as if just remembering Jenda, she turned a cold look on the girl. “You have a champion in this man. Be thankful for his interference or you may not have lived to see the gift I shall make of your miserable existence.”
As soon as she had exited, Matteo turned to Jenda. He grasped her by her upper arm in a hard grip. There were no shivers of pleasure this time. Jenda gasped in fear and tried to turn her face away.
“No, you will look at me.” His voice was as cold as the woman’s voice had been. “If you want to continue to live, you will not tempt her like that again. She is an evil and calculating woman and she has killed more innocent souls than Lucifer himself. I had little to do with her decision just now. She doesn’t care about what I want and is likely to kill you for the fact that I want you alive. The only reason she stopped was because she has waited too long to have you.”
Jenda was shaking badly and the blood all drained from her face. Her lower lip quivered as she spoke. “Who…who is she and why has she waited for me? I don’t understand, Matteo. Tell me please, what did I ever do to make her want me?”
She didn’t expect his pity, but she also didn’t expect his reaction to her saying his name. A growl escaped through his clenched jaw. “Not five minutes ago I was a murderer, a damnable fiend, and a monster. Now you whimper at me and call my name as if I was your knight in shining armor. What a simple child you are, Jenda.” The malice in his voice made her want to crawl into a dark hole and hide.
If she hadn’t been so hurt and frightened, Jenda would have been insulted. She stared doe-eyed up at Matteo, muted by confusion. She did not know how to respond. She wanted to say she was sorry, but she wasn’t. She had meant those words and her hatred for him and the other woman was a fire that would not die. Yet, she wanted to press her face into his chest; she wanted to feel his breath on her cheek. She wanted him to hold her while she cried in misery, fear, and loneliness.
Seeing that the girl was not going to respond, Matteo softened. He hated to admit it but his pride had been injured greatly by her harsh words. He took a moment to take in the girl’s appearance. “Jenda, no harm has truly been done here. Forgive my outburst; I was sure the Signora would kill you for such sacrilege. Now, let’s get you into something a little more fitting for a dinner with a grand lady.” As he said the words “grand lady” he sneered and spit the words as if he was uttering a curse.
He guided Jenda into the bedroom and waited patiently while she searched through the clothing that he or someone else had brought from her room at home. He told her to choose carefully for tonight would be a night of great importance. Her hands fidgeted over several items and Matteo could sense her apprehension. He strode over to her side and chose a dark blue cotton dress with a high bust line and long skirt. It was one of Jenda’s favorites, and she wondered if it was a coincidence that the color matched his eyes perfectly. He pushed it towards her and told her to go to the bathroom and dress quickly. It would not bode well for them if they kept the Signora waiting too long.
“Matteo, will you not give me any answers before we go? I’m frightened.” Jenda tried not to sound needy but she failed. Tears hovered on her lashes and her green eyes positively glowed.
“I will have to let the Signora tell you. After all, it is the story of you and her, not me.” He spoke gently to her and the same melancholy tone was noticeable in his voice. “Now, hurry Jenda. You must be hungry.”
Jenda didn’t feel hungry but the mention of it made her stomach growl. For all she knew, she hadn’t eaten in days, and whatever foulness Matteo or the Signora had put in her system had been purged earlier that day. The thought of the foamy red liquid spewed across the floor almost made Jenda gag again. Despite her sudden sickness, the thought of hot food made her oblivious to whatever awaited her.
When she emerged from the bathroom ten minutes later, Matteo had to struggle not to claim her for himself right then and there. Her auburn tresses were piled in a sweeping up-do, and tiny ringlets framed her oval face. Her green eyes were huge and she had lined them with just a touch of smoky gray liner. The most unbearable part was the naked curve of her neck as she demurely cast her glance to the floor and awaited his instructions.
Jenda’s heart fluttered, she knew the look that crossed Matteo’s face when she entered. It was the look that you never saw on boys like Aaron. It was the look of a man when he felt passion for a woman. She had seen that look recaptured a million times in the old black and white movies she loved. Right now, she felt very much like Ingrid Bergman, and he seemed to her very much like Humphrey Bogart. As she let the scene from Casablanca play through her head, she was completely unaware of the wide smile spreading across Matteo’s face.
Matteo rose from the couch and walked towards her. His movements were measured and he forced himself to be casual. He reached her side and offered her his arm in a very gentlemanly manner. Jenda’s nerves threatened to cause her now usual reaction of either passing out or throwing up. Sensing her discomfort, Matteo patted the hand that rested inside the crook of his elbow. He smiled slightly at her and just as they entered the dark hallway, he whispered into her ear, “Here’s looking at you, kid.”
Jenda was startled for just a second, and then realized what she seemed to continuously forget when he was playing nice with her. He was a vampire. Of course he had known her every though
t. He had seen the famous movie scene just as she had seen it moments before. This man beside her could read minds, move at incredible speeds, he possessed inhuman strength, and of course dined on the blood of living human beings. Her old curiosity perked as she walked down the long corridor on his arm. She wondered idly what else he could do. She thought about the vampire legends of both film and literature. The darker side of her couldn’t help contemplate the myths of how one could kill a vampire.
“Best keep those questions out of that pretty little head of yours.” His voice was low as he spoke. “If she hears you she will not be entertained by a child’s imagination of how to kill her captors.”
The reminder was all Jenda needed. She tried not to think of anything at all and when that failed, she concentrated on the words and music to her favorite song. She could see the entrance to another room about five feet away. The sound of laughter echoed out towards them. Her grip tightened on Matteo’s arm and she began to shake horribly. He led her forward despite her best efforts to slow their progress. He placed his large hand on the small of her back to assist in giving her body some momentum, and the cold force of it made her even more afraid.
Matteo didn’t dare speak comforting words to her now. If the Signora heard him then she would surely take it out on Jenda. All he could do was force her to walk and hope that tonight did not end in death instead of rebirth.
13
“Jenda, Matteo, so nice of you two to finally join me. I have arranged a very special night and it was very rude of you to have kept me waiting.” The woman with the blonde curls addressed them from the comfort of an overstuffed high back armchair. Behind her, a roaring fire was burning inside the largest fireplace Jenda had ever seen. It was mammoth in size, the opening reaching at least six feet in height and four feet in width. The hearth and chimney were constructed from large smooth stones like those found in creek beds. The heat from the flames reached out to span the eight or nine foot distance and caress Jenda’s face.
“I apologize, Signora. The girl had a little problem choosing her clothes for such an important evening. You know how teenage girls can be.” Matteo said it with a nonchalant shrug but his eyes never left the woman before him. He waited, trying to judge her reaction.
The woman beckoned them to come and sit in the other chairs that were arranged in front of the fire. The three identical chairs faced a large oak table on which three wine glasses and one dinner setting was placed. Jenda and Matteo took their places and waited expectantly for their host to continue.
She addressed herself to Jenda this time, “My dear, I greatly approve of your appearance. You look positively radiant.”
Jenda couldn’t help the warm blush that filled her cheeks as she ducked her head and murmured, “Thank you, ma’am.” She hated being polite to the woman but if there was a chance she would live then she needed to heed Matteo’s warning and not provoke her any further.
“Jenda, my name is Belle Günter and I welcome you to my home. You may call me Ms. Belle.” She spoke to Jenda as if she were a five-year-old child whom she had never seen before. “Now let’s get you some dinner and we will begin our journey through what has brought you to me and where we will go.”
With that, the woman lifted a small silver bell from the table and tinkled it lightly. Moments later, a young girl came scuttling into the room holding a silver tray laden with covered dishes. She set the tray upon the table, careful not to touch any of the furniture or the onlookers. The girl kept her eyes cast downward so that Jenda never truly saw her face. The girl was adept at her duties and soon she was serving Jenda a rich creamy soup, a large portion of smoked salmon with steamed vegetables, and various other delicious smelling delicacies.
The rich aromas made Jenda’s stomach growl. She was so hungry she couldn’t stand it. The girl had to serve around Jenda’s diving fork as she began to dig into the food. If it was poisoned, she did not care. If she made herself sick, she would eat more afterwards. Once Jenda’s dinner was served, the girl cleared the tray and returned with a crystal decanter of what appeared to be red wine. It briefly crossed Jenda’s mind that vampires didn’t drink wine but maybe it was just a prop. She’d read the supposedly fictional stories that said they could consume human food or drink and often did so to lessen the awkwardness while they were dealing with mortals.
The serving girl carefully uncorked the bottle and filled Belle, Matteo, and Jenda’s glasses. It was when the girl reached to set the last glass on the table that Jenda noticed the wounds at the base of the girl’s neck. Several small punctures marked her flesh in various states of healing. Jenda tried to look down but her eyes fell on the girl’s wrist, which was crisscrossed with large white scars and ugly red cuts. It looked as if she or someone else had opened her veins many times before.
Matteo caught her thoughts and he reached out and grasped the servant girl’s arm, covering the nasty marks with his large hands. “That will be all Maya, you may go.” The girl took several steps backward, glancing towards the lady of the house for confirmation. Ms. Belle nodded her head and the girl almost ran from the room. Obviously, Matteo’s touch did not have the same effect on her as it had on Jenda.
“Do you feed from her?” Jenda whispered. Tears gently rolled down her cheeks symbolizing the grief she felt for the poor girl and the nightmare she must suffer.
Expecting a response from Matteo, Jenda’s head snapped up when the haughtiness of the other woman’s voice reached her. “Tears? You cry for that whelp of a child you don’t even know? What if I told you, little Jenda, that she enjoys her station here in my home? Now, don’t look so shocked. There are many who would rather live as a donor to a living goddess than the sacrifice to a false god. Maya comes from a land of such things and when she has paid her dues she may, someday, become what she most desires.”
Jenda knew her mouth hung open and her eyes were probably the size of saucers. People chose to live as feeders, like cows for the masses? Did the girl really want to become a monster? Her mind whirled around the thought and she was aghast at the life the girl had chosen. What must her life have been before she came to this house to be both servant and food supply?
“Careful, my little Baobhan Sith, you may wound the honor of your host, and you will know what kind of life it is outside these walls once you have been turned away.” Belle purred at her like a fat house cat with a cornered mouse. Even though being turned away was exactly what Jenda wanted, she imagined that Belle had not meant she could simply walk away and go back home.
Jenda bowed her head with a quick apology towards the ferocious woman. She had lost much of her appetite again. She poked at her plate like a spoiled child until Belle chided her in her clear demanding voice, “Jenda you must eat, stop acting foolish. You will need your strength very soon.” The girl reluctantly stuffed a bite of food into her mouth and chewed but the flavor was gone. The woman took a long draught from her glass, almost emptying it before she spoke again. “I can hear your thoughts child, just like Matteo, why do you not ask some of those questions. They seem more appropriate.”
Jenda still was trying to adjust to being in the presence of two mind readers and her mild shock immediately turned to a flush-faced embarrassment. “I was just wondering why both of you refer to me as Baobhan Sith.” She kept her eyes and her voice down, hoping she wouldn’t trigger the female vampire’s rage.
Quite the opposite occurred. Belle positively purred with laughter. Turning to Matteo, she smiled wickedly and then addressed Jenda once again. “You were so quick to know Matteo and me for what we are, can’t you guess, Jenda?”
Jenda’s eyes widened and she shook her head in bewilderment. “No ma’am. You called them your cousins before and I can’t be such a thing because I am human and you are not.” She said the words without judgment. She said them as any youth may. She clearly stated it as a fact; she was not a vampire so therefore she could be no relation to those who were.
Belle laughed once more in that thick syr
upy way she had. “Maybe now it is time to answer your questions all in one tale. It is the story of my life, it’s the story of how you have come to be here, and it will explain to you exactly why you are called our little Baobhan Sith.”
The woman leaned back in the chair and her eyes seemed to mist over as she began to recall a century of life, death, and life after death.
14
“I was born in a little hole of a town in Norway in 1859. My poor mother and father had no money and several mouths to feed. It was sad, really, living in a dirt floor house on farmland we didn’t even own. My father was a jack-of-all-trades. He had been called a stonemason, a merchant, and an angler. I would describe him as a colossal failure; too tied down by the drink to provide any real means for my family. The more he drank the more he failed, and the more he failed the more he drank.” Belle took no notice of her audience now. She shifted her body towards the fire as if trying to drive away the chill of the past.
“I always knew we were poor and I hated it and hated him, my father, for it. In those days, you didn’t have welfare and public programs. Children died of starvation and no one but their mothers ever cared. I came from a pitifully impoverished family and I was not pleasant to look upon. These two small facts caused me to hate that place even more keenly than my shame over my father’s fiascos. I absolutely loathed everyone and everything in Selbu.
“As a young teen, I was pudgy and rather plain. Some heavier girls have that type of pretty face that makes a man overlook a little weight, but I was not so blessed. My only means to overcome my stature in life was to marry a rich man, and at that time in my life, I had absolutely no reason to believe one would ever want me. I worked hard and was what one would call a stout girl for my age, but beauty wasn’t one of my attributes.” She was lost now in her own dream of a sordid past, reaching a hand up to touch her face as if remembering the chubby little girl.
Requiem of Humanity Page 9
