Requiem of Humanity

by Catherine Stovall

  Realizing she was getting lost in the power, she shut it down as quickly as possible. The experience wasn’t unpleasant, but being so disconnected from her own existence didn’t feel right. Matteo was staring at her questioningly when she finally got a strong hold on herself.

  Jenda went up to her tiptoes and wrapped her arms tightly around him. She apologized for her behavior. Agreeing to go see Celeste first was hard for her to do, but it is what he wanted. She needed these people almost as much as she needed Soborgne, and her loyalty to both tugged at her will.

  She and Matteo made their way to the donor room first. Unlike her, he had not fed. They each took a separate cubicle and finished as quickly as was possible. Neither of them took much pleasure in the meal. They drank because the needed strength and endurance. As soon as Matteo exited the room, he could see Jenda waiting for him. Idly chatting with the woman at the desk, she didn’t see him right away. Matteo heard part of their conversation, and he was astonished—Jenda was apologizing.

  At first, Matteo was confused, but then recognition dawned on him. She was the girl that Jenda had drunk from the night of the battle. He struggled with her name at first, and then finally remembered just as the embarrassed looking women greeted him. He missed the way Jenda’s cheeks flushed brightly before the change.

  Acting as if he heard nothing, Matteo greeted the girl first. “Agi, my dear, it seems Celeste has found you quite the comfortable position, even if it may get a little dull at times.”

  Agi squirmed nervously in his presence. “Yes sir, quite comfortable, indeed. I am ever so grateful for her kindness. With the baby on the way, it is a relief to know that someone will help take care of us. The Lady is a fine woman, most certainly.”

  “You are also a fine woman, Agi. What you did for Jenda—what you did for all of us—it was honorable and admirable. I feel as if I owe you my own life, because without her I would not be able to go on.” Matteo was speaking to Agi, but his eyes were burning a hole in Jenda. As he finished speaking, he reached down and kissed Agi on the cheek. The girl appeared flustered at the attention.

  Jenda bid the girl a good night, and together she and Matteo left the donor room. They climbed the stone stairs and Jenda took his hand in hers. Jenda sighed happily while they walked with fingers entwined. His touch was like a sedative, and his love was like having an army behind her. For the first time in more than forty-eight hours, she was at peace.

  A calming sensation settled over Jenda, and her heart was so full that it swelled in her chest. The holes left from having her family, her life, and her beliefs in everything good destroyed were slowly being filled. When Matteo stole her from her bedroom, he stole her world. Now, piece by piece, he was giving it back.

  Jenda was still having a hard time accepting why Matteo had been compelled to assist Belle, but as the fates drew them deeper into the nightmare of the prophecy, it became easier. She could see now that he had no more choice than she did. Destiny was calling, and millions of lives would perish if they did not answer. He had committed a great evil, but his love for her washed away those sins.

  “You make her nervous, you know?” Jenda’s voice was full of laughter, and Matteo was relieved. Perhaps Jenda would be okay after all.

  “I get that, but I don’t understand why. She is one of ours. Her entire family has been in service to Celeste for generations.” He truly found the reason puzzling, and Jenda couldn’t resist the urge to laugh at him.

  “Sweetie, do you own a mirror? Surely, you must know how handsome you are. She is afraid that you might seduce her, and she would never say no. It doesn’t matter how much she loves her child’s father or how much she likes me. She knows that she would give it up for one night with you.” Jenda was not jealous, and her voice was still lighthearted.

  “Seriously, how can you say stuff like that?” Matteo looked shocked. Obviously, he wasn’t aware of his very powerful charm, astonishing good looks, and the way his beautiful blue eyes drew a person into them, as if she were the only girl in the world.

  “I am telling you the truth!” Tapping her temple lightly, she added, “Remember, I am the emotion reader around here.”

  Right now, she could sense his discomfort with the subject, tinged slightly with a touch of pride. Emotions were becoming flavors to her. The process was like trying to figure out the ingredients in a mixed fruit melody. A hint of this or that could add just a little spice to an emotion.

  They reached the top of the stairs and Jenda was concentrating on trying to walk, assessing the way Matteo was feeling, and keeping up the conversation. All the distractions let him catch her off guard completely. He grabbed her by the waist and pushed her against the wall playfully.

  Before she could react, his mouth was on hers in a passionate kiss. He didn’t start gently. The all-consuming kiss melted Jenda into a puddle immediately. His tongue searched out hers just as his hand found the sensitive skin at the base of her neck. Jenda made a noise halfway between a moan and a gasp. She wound her hands into his dark hair and pulled him closer, enjoying the spontaneous show of affection.

  The kiss didn’t last as long as she would have liked, but what she did like was how he broke away only to nibble at her ear and growl, “I am only concerned with what you think of me, little girl, and we may just find out how much that is tonight.”

  Jenda was about to suggest that they go find out right then, but they heard footsteps coming down the hallway. Quickly, they broke apart. The fast clip of heels was loudly approaching them. Stepping out into the hall, they met Celeste.

  Her eyes searched them for a moment before she spoke with a creased forehead and thin lips. “I have been looking everywhere for you. We will be meeting in half an hour in my suite. Both of you are required to attend.”

  Jenda was a little frightened. Celeste never usually looked so severe. “Is it about the attack?”

  “Yes, amongst other things. The time for games is over now. We must be prepared. I have to go now—our guests will be arriving soon, and I don’t want to keep them waiting. Go change into something more suitable. You will be presented tonight to a lot of very important people, and I would prefer you not look like a street urchin.” Her tone was sharp, and her words were almost a slap to the face.

  Jenda wanted to smart off to her. She may be the Lady, but she didn’t have any right to be rude. Before she could add the retort that was burning her tongue to escape her mouth, she let the barricades down just enough to feel what Celeste was feeling. The Lady was afraid. She was terrified, in fact. Tonight’s guests were all important players in the war against the Dracul and the demons. If things did not go well, it could mean certain failure, and another war. The sarcastic response Jenda was planning died on her lips..

  “Yes, ma’am,” was her only answer, until Celeste turned to walk away.

  Jenda reached out and grabbed her wrist, stopping her in her tracks. Willing all of her own goodwill into the touch, Jenda spoke the words as clearly as she could. “Celeste, everything will be okay. There’s no reason to fear. We are on the side of what is right, and that will be our guiding light in all things. They will see that light and follow your lead.”

  Jenda’s words soaked in and Celeste eased from initial shock to acceptance. “I do hope you are right, young lady. I truly do. For if we are not careful, this will destroy us all.”

  Celeste gently patted Jenda’s hand and then stepped away. She wore a sharp gray jacket and matching pencil skirt. Her dark gray heels echoed loudly as she click clacked down the hall as quickly as she had come. The woman had an extraordinary beauty about her, no matter what she wore.

  18

  The night wore on for what seemed forever. Soborgne and Augustine spent the evening running in and out of sleazy nightclubs and fancy hotels. They placed themselves on the arms of men and women and relished the nearness to their humming hearts. They drank throughout the night from so many people that Soborgne lost count. She was dining on a buffet of flavors and senses.
Taking just a little nip here and there, they drank their fill from every social class, sex, and age.

  First, Augustine made sure she had a proper kill. They chose one of the dingiest nightclubs they could find. The native people barely spoke English, but they pressed their sweat glittered bodies against the two vampires as if they had a passion for the danger emanating from their presence.

  Augustine taught her to use her keen sense of smell to detect drug-polluted blood. It wouldn’t make her high, but sometimes, in the very young, it could cause stomach pains. For almost all vampires, it left a nasty aftertaste. Soborgne found it all easier than she thought it would be. The stench of the drugs overrode the blood, the sweat, and the alcohol with a foul pungent odor.

  The first young girl who struck Soborgne’s fancy was a dark skinned beauty. Her drink in her hand, she shimmied up to Soborgne and smiled devilishly. The girl was looking for far more than a friend to dance with tonight. Soborgne read her like an open book. Her mind flipped through the pages of random and idle thoughts until she struck home.

  Zaska was her name. She was a sixteen-year-old runaway from a hovel in the eighth district. Her father and mother had seven mouths to feed and she was tired of caring for the little ones all the time. Now she did favors for the rich American men and women to pay her rent on a measly four by six room with no windows and a leaky roof. She also had an extreme heroin addiction.

  The girl wrapped her thin arms around Soborgne’s neck and tried to look seductive. Instead, she accomplished a weak and drunken childish imitation. The stench of the drugs made Soborgne’s nostrils flare and she turned her head. Before she could throw the girl off, Augustine took over. He gently pried the girls arms away, stuck a twenty-dollar bill in the top of her low cut shirt, and shooed her away with the patience of a kind uncle.

  The next attempt went much more successfully. He was near twenty, with striking contradictions in his appearance. The boy’s hair was more blonde than Augustine’s, and his eyes were almost clear blue. His dark lashes were set against coffee and cream skin. When he caught her staring, his perfect smile caught the flash of the lights and sparkled like pure white snow.

  Soborgne was transfixed. The desire for his blood was pulsating through her, along with the heavy techno bass blasting out of the speakers. The best part was, as she moved slowly through the overcrowded room she caught his scent and there was enough alcohol in his system to make this easy, but no sign of any drugs.

  Augustine watched proudly from a short distance. Soborgne was a panther on the prowl. They had shopped a little before hitting the club. She had bought only a few items, but the outfit she wore now was his favorite. Killer high-heeled boots stretched up the expanse of her long muscular legs and stopped to hug her thighs tightly. The black spandex dress dipped down dangerously in front and did not quite reach the top of her boots. In the small space between the two, her black stockings played peek-a-boo with every man’s eyes. The crème de la crème was the shock of black hair that hung to her waste and her alabaster skin that glowed seductively under the flashing lights.

  Augustine enjoyed the fact that Soborgne took to hunting so naturally. She slinked through the room, focused only on her prey. Her one downfall was her extreme beauty. Too many people would remember her if she were ever to take things too far and not clean up her mess. Every head in the room turned to watch her as she walked by, though she only saw the boy that she desired. Even the women looked at her with wanton desire. She was a force beyond her own recognition.

  As Soborgne reached the boy’s side, he stood and offered to buy her a drink. They talked for a few moments while they waited on the bartender. Augustine was immensely entertained. The boy stumbled over himself as he tried to impress Soborgne. Augustine chuckled as the boy nearly toppled over when Soborgne placed herself between his knees and began whispering in his ear.

  She took the boy by his hand and led him to a dark corner of the club. The drink in her hand was left untouched. The poisonous ecstasy tablet still sizzled unseen at the bottom of the glass. The boy regularly played this game. He’d buy the girls a drink, slip in a little E-bomb, and then take them home for a little rough play before dumping them, dead or alive, in the river.

  Augustine mumbled to himself as she watched them come closer, “So she prefers to hunt the naughty ones. My, my, such a surprising turn of events.”

  The boy was drunker than Augustine originally thought. The boy was getting sloppy. After so many successful attacks, he no longer cared enough to stay sober. He loathed himself for what he did, but the compulsion to do it was stronger than the self-hate. The whiskey helped douse it, helped to make it okay. To Richard—that was his name—they all deserved it. All women were liars and cheating tramps, just like Rebecca. Rebecca who left him for an American, and who wouldn’t take his calls and told him she hated him.

  Soborgne led him back to the corner. No one was around except Augustine and a few couples who were too drunk and busy to notice the pretty couple in the last booth. She let him slide in first. When she followed him, the torn red leather caught her dress and helped to reveal more of her shapely legs. Richard could barely contain himself. He pushed her drink towards her and smiled brightly. Augustine could not hear the words over the pulsating techno beat that reverberated through the club. He didn’t have to hear to know the boy was trying to entice her to drink.

  The irony was that she didn’t need any encouragement. She was thirsty for something a little more fulfilling to a vampire than a nasty little cocktail littered with narcotics. She pushed the drink away and said something to him that made his eyes go wide. She licked her candy apple red lips and leaned in closer. Augustine wanted to turn away.

  Watching this little scene play out was fun at first, but now he had no desire to watch her with this boy. The intimate way that this weak and damaged human touched Soborgne made him angry. He wanted to snap the boy’s neck and drag Soborgne out of this club of dirty little heathens. He knew it was irrational to feel that way, but he could not stop. She was his now. Their bond was solid. This boy had no right to touch her.

  His obsessing came to an abrupt stop when he saw Soborgne position herself for the kill. Her teeth sank into the carotid artery and Richard’s head lolled back. Soborgne played it off so well. Never breaking the bite, she moved herself on top of the boy. She moved her body so that a passerby would think that she and the boy were drunk and making out. She drank deeply and with abandon.

  She could taste a hint of the cheap whiskey in his blood, but it only gave it a heady spice. She did not fear the alcohol. She did not fear anything. The darkness came into her with his blood. It danced and dipped through her mind. It told her to follow the heartbeat down into the abyss. It guided her to the boy’s death. It told her she was doing what she was meant to do. Its reasoning was winning her over. She was a demon’s daughter, after all. The time came to finish with the boy.

  The last of his blood drained, his heart stopped. Without so much as a hint of remorse, Soborgne bit into her tongue and lapped at the puncture wounds. She watched as they healed to make sure all evidence would be gone. When she was certain that her tracks were covered, she broke away and smiled up at Augustine. The boy slumped forward and she arranged him so that it looked as if he had passed out. It was barely eleven o’clock. No one would even bother with him until the bar closed at two.

  From there, Augustine taught her how to use her charm and stealth to entice others around her. All vampires possessed these traits, but she had very little use for them. Everywhere they went, people saw her beauty and catered to her. When Augustine had first seen her through Belle and Jenda’s minds, Soborgne was not the woman she was now. As her blood adapted to the change, she became more and more the predator and less and less the human.

  At last, they found themselves drunk on blood and crashing back into the manor. Their laughter echoed through the empty rooms as they talked of their adventures. She turned to say something to Augustine and found herse
lf against his strong and powerful chest. He hooked one finger under her chin and lifted her face to his. Their lips met in an explosion of passion. He pushed at the hem of her dress with his hands and she tugged at the buttons on his shirt. Everything was a jumble of hands, kisses, and clothing.

  Soborgne’s fingers managed to fumble open the final button of Augustine’s shirt. As she leaned back in his embrace to push the material away from his chest, her hands froze on his skin. Above his heart was something that resembled a brand. The silvery scar tissue was raised and rough in contrast to the smooth skin surrounding it. She traced a finger over the circular pattern and it dawned on her what she was looking at. Two dragons, head to tail, formed a circle on his skin. She didn’t have to ask what the symbol meant. Primal instinct told her the brand signified that he was part of the Dracul.

  Soborgne hung her head and stepped out of the intoxicating circle of Augustine’s arms. She let her initial anger fade before she spoke. “It’s time we talked.”

  The disbelief was plain on Augustine’s face. He had her and now she was pulling away. He stepped forward to recapture her in his arms, but she refused. Hands up, she warned him off. The look in her eyes told him that there would be no more loving embraces until she knew what she wanted to know.

  “As you wish, Soborgne, always as you wish.” She saw that flash in his eyes again. That trickle of something not right, but it was gone when he spoke again. “Shall we retire to the den, at least, or would you prefer to remain standing in the entryway?” His words dripped with sarcasm.

  For a moment, her heart went out to him. She truly did love him, even if she didn’t understand how or why. She refrained from reaching out to comfort him despite her feelings. If they were to be together, it would be without the shroud of secrecy that he was hiding behind all the time. She had betrayed her best friend, allowed Celeste’s home to be ransacked and destroyed, and she was almost killed a little more than twenty-four hours before. She deserved answers, no matter how much he didn’t want to give them.