Ela: Forever (Waking Forever)

by Heather McVea

  In spite of the fact it was nearly ninety degrees outside, Mateo had a large fire burning in the rock faced fireplace. Ela had learned over the years that he enjoyed the ambiance of a fire and, since the heat had no effect on him, he almost always had one lit.

  “I know. It’s something we have never discussed, but now is the time.” Mateo thumbed through lose sheets of paper as he spoke. “With Gahiji gone –” Mateo stopped and closed his eyes. He shook his head before continuing. “With him gone, the burden of the task falls to you and Albert.”

  Ela had not been maternal in her human life, and thought of being a maker in much the same way she thought of motherhood. She wasn’t interested in any sort of obligation to anyone but herself. But what she lacked in parenting instincts, she made up for in pragmatism. So, to ensure her passage to America, and the opportunity to be entirely independent while hunting Rachel, she would say whatever Mateo needed to hear. “What would you have us do?”

  Mateo smiled. “First – be yourself. I do so enjoy your love of our kind. You are so enthusiastic about being vampire.” He got up, walked around the large mahogany desk, and leaned against the edge of it before continuing. “Second – show Albert our ways. He has a kind heart and sometimes lacks the stomach for what must be done.”

  Mateo knelt in front of Ela and took her hand in his. “Lastly – you must be dedicated and have complete confidence in our cause. The doctrine can never be in doubt.”

  Ela placed her hand on Mateo’s cheek. “You can count on me, always.” She smiled as Mateo turned his face and gently kissed her palm.

  Mateo got up and pulled Ela to her feet. “Albert is a good maker. I taught him myself before sending him out into the world. That is what you can learn from him.” Mateo dropped Ela’s hands and walked back around the desk to his chair. He looked at Ela for several seconds, a faint smile on his face. “Faith moves mountains.”

  Ela smiled broadly as she stood. “Rest assured my faith gives me power, confidence, and courage, Mateo.” She nodded and left the study.

  She walked down the hall toward Kesora’s room. She had knocked on the narrow wooden door of the shifter’s chambers hundreds of times since coming to live in the compound, but this last visit would be the most crucial.

  “Come in.” Kesora called from the other side of the door.

  Ela opened the door, and, as was her custom, immediately took a long, deep breath through her nose. Kesora’s earthy scent inundated Ela, leaving her lightheaded. She closed the door and turned to see Kesora lounging in a black silk robe on a long, cloth sofa with a small paperback book resting on her lap.

  “You’re leaving then?” Kesora asked in a flat tone.

  Ela walked over to the shifter and sat down next to her. “Tomorrow.” Ela took the woman’s bare foot in her hand and began to gently rub the top of it. The skin was smooth, and the heat of the blood so close to the surface of the skin excited Ela. “Come with me.”

  Kesora’s eyes widened. “You’re joking.”

  Ela shook her head as she moved her hand up Kesora’s calf. “I’m not. I’ll miss you.”

  Kesora pulled her leg away from Ela and sat up on the sofa next to her. “What is this? You don’t miss anything, Ela.”

  The shifter laid the book down on the wooden end table next to the sofa and got up. “You’ll miss my blood.” Kesora took a cigarette from its case next to the book and lit it.

  Ela leaned back and studied the smooth, defined plains of Kesora’s jaw and neck. “Yes, but won’t you miss mine as well?” The answer hardly mattered, but Ela was curious.

  “Yes, but I could never leave Mateo. He and I are joined – forever.” Kesora took a long drag off the cigarette, held the smoke in her lungs, then exhaled. “Besides, he would end you if I went missing at the exact moment you leave.”

  Ela waved her hand in front of her in an attempt to dissipate the smoke that now hung around her. “Albert and I leave tomorrow on a private plane. By the time Mateo realized you’re gone, we would be lost to him.”

  Kesora shook her head. “No. I don’t want to go with you.”

  Ela’s anger flared and surged and her eyes began to glow. “Want? Since when do you have the right to want anything?” She lunged at Kesora and grabbed the woman by her biceps, sending the cigarette to the stone floor.

  Kesora recoiled and pulled back. “Stop it!”

  Ela growled. “You’re just a half step up from a dog, so you want whatever a vampire tells you to want.”

  Kesora locked eyes with Ela. “All I have to do is scream, and when Mateo arrives you can explain to him what you’re doing in my chambers, and why my arms are bruised.” Kesora grinned. “He’ll believe anything I tell him about us. His need for my blood will see to that.”

  Ela bared her teeth and sank them into the front of Kesora’s throat. She bit down hard and the shifter’s scream was cut short when the pressure of Ela’s mouth cut off her air supply. Kesora pushed against Ela’s neck and face, trying to dislodge her. Ela pulled the blood from Kesora in long gulps, the woman’s rapid heartbeat slowing. The familiar sensation of surging electricity that accompanied feeding from a shifter ripped through Ela, and she pulled Kesora tighter to her chest.

  When Kesora’s heartbeat sounded more human than shifter, Ela flung her to the floor. Wiping and licking at the blood running down her chin, Ela knelt next to a nearly unconscious Kesora. “That should keep me for awhile.”

  Ela took Kesora roughly by her hair. “My kind can live without you, but you – you can’t live forever without us. Remember that – and remember your place.”

  Ela rose and walked out of the room without looking back. She felt infinite, but not because of the shifter’s blood. She remembered Mateo telling her when a vampire knew the truth they must gather the whole of the universe to the word. She would bring the divine grace to the masses. End Rachel. Her will would be done.

  ###

  Losing Forever

  Part Three

  “Revenge, the sweetest morsel to the mouth that ever was cooked in hell.”

  -Walter Scott

  “Stop wiggling - you’ll move when I move you.”

  Ela practically purred the words while straddling the dying man, her knees positioned on either side of his hips. She was naked, her long blonde hair tied back in a loose knot. “I assure you, if you don’t play nice, the game will get harder.”

  Despite the man’s size and weight advantage over Ela, who, though tall, had a slight frame, he was prone naked on the floor of his bathroom and powerless to move. The woman’s weight bore down on him as if a man three times her size was sitting on his chest. The inability to move was compounded by the viselike grip Ela had around his neck.

  “Please. I don’t –” Ela tightened her grip around the front of the man’s throat, her razor like nails digging into the sides of his neck. Independent of his will, his arms and legs began to thrash about as the inability to breathe caused panic to set in.

  In a single rapid movement, he was lifted off the floor by his neck and slammed against the back wall of the shower. A sharp pain shot through the back of his head and down between his shoulder blades as his head made contact with the tile wall. The immense pressure around his throat was suddenly gone. His legs buckled, and he slumped to the floor of the shower.

  “I warned you.” Ela stood with her back to the half-conscious man. She delicately licked at her blood soaked finger tips. “I don’t mind a little fight. Makes the hunt more interesting. But I can’t have you making such a ruckus that some well-meaning neighbor finds their way over here, and then I have to put them down too.”

  Ela sucked blood from her index finger before holding her slender hand out in front of her in admiration. “Come to think of it, a second course might be in order.” As quickly as the thought came, it went, and Ela shrugged as she turned toward the shower. “Now, where were we?”

  Ela grabbed the man by his thick, curly brown hair and pushed him down so he was lying f
lat on his back on the floor of the shower. She took a deep breath. Hints of caramel and vanilla from the Maker’s Mark bourbon the man had at dinner, along with his natural scent of spiced mango and nutmeg permeated her senses.

  She ran a finger from the man’s knee, up his muscular thigh, across his jutting hip bone, and then brought her hand to rest on the flat plain of his stomach just above his groin.

  “Can you hear that?” Ela tilted her head downward and turned it slightly. “That’s your common iliac artery.” She smiled and began gently petting the man’s lower stomach. “Now, I don’t want to get too technical with you, but that’s one of the largest arteries in your body. It also happens to be one of my favorites.”

  The man tried desperately to focus his eyes, only vaguely aware Ela was speaking. He looked up toward the direction of the voice and saw piercing lavender-blue eyes that were so intense they glowed. He wanted desperately to move, to run, but his arms and legs wouldn’t respond. What he was able to see clearly was the elongated incisors protruding from Ela’s mouth. A stifling, prickly heat washed over his entire body as his heart began to beat furiously. He realized he was going to die and tears quickly followed as he forced his eyes shut.

  Ela hesitated inches above the man’s stomach and looked up at him. “What’s this?” Her voice was low, verging on a growl. She effortlessly moved up the man’s body and straddled his chest. “Open your eyes.”

  She bent over and ran her cold tongue up his neck and along his jaw line before biting into his earlobe. “'I would hate that Death bandaged my eyes, and forbore, and made me creep past.'” Before the scream could escape the man, Ela forced her fist into his mouth.

  “I guess Browning isn’t for everyone.”

  Twisting the man’s head to the side until it looked like his neck might snap, Ela sank her teeth into the warm, supple skin just below his ear. The rush of hot blood flooded her mouth as the loud beating of the man’s heart reverberated through her entire body.

  She jerked her head back, taking pieces of flesh, tendon and muscle. She took in heaving breaths, gulping at the air and allowing the smell of human blood to permeate her senses. Her frenzy took over, and she began to indiscriminately bite and tear at the man’s shoulders and arms.

  Ela reached under the limp man’s shoulders and crushed him to her chest as she sank her teeth into the front of his throat. The bathroom was echoed with the sound of bones snapping as the pressure of Ela’s embrace caused the man’s clavicles to shatter and pierce the skin. His heart stopped as Ela tore, ripped, and lapped at his throat.

  Unceremoniously dropping the man’s lifeless body to the floor of the shower, Ela slowly rose from her haunches. His blood, along with fragments of bone and skin, hung from her mouth. She wiped at her face with the back of her hand and turned the shower on. Still standing over the dead man, she let the hot water run over her face as she wiped at the now blood that covered her.

  Stepping over the corpse, Ela reached for the blue bath towel hanging next to the shower. She toweled herself off and neatly folded the towel and placed it back on the rack. She turned back toward the dead man and critically examined his corpse.

  The awkward backward angle of his head reminded Ela of how Rachel Collins had snapped her own neck and back when Rachel had attacked and murdered her. Now, after more than sixty years, Ela was on the cusp of turning every joy and happiness in Rachel’s life into a thick, suffocating ash.

  ***

  Ela and Albert arrived in Belem, Brazil in the middle of October 1952. As the two exited the long, narrow, metal structure that constituted the Belem airport terminal, Ela put a pair of aviator sunglasses on. She had taken them off a pilot she had killed during their layover in Port Alegre.

  The flight over the Atlantic had taken nearly twenty hours, and Ela thought she would come out of her skin with hunger. At one point she was certain her blood was beginning to boil because the burning had become so intense. Albert seemed unfazed by the prolonged absence of blood and managed to sit calmly in the seat next to Ela, reading a first edition of Mary Wollstonecraft’s Frankenstein he had taken from Mateo’s library.

  If Ela had cared more for Albert, she might have made an effort to distract herself from the hunger by talking with the young, beautiful, brown haired vampire. As it was, Mateo’s affinity for him and Albert’s predilection toward nonsensical ramblings in his signature Texas drawl stood Ela’s nerves on end. Silence, while burning from within, was preferable.

  As they exited the terminal Albert put a gray driving cap and jacket on, in spite of the humidity indicative of the northeastern parts of Brazil. “Sure is bright, ain’t it?”

  Ela felt a tingling along her exposed arms. It wasn’t unpleasant, but she knew if she didn’t cover herself soon, her skin would begin to redden. “Yes, Albert. It is rather bright.” Ela executed slightly exaggerated diction in hopes Albert would follow suit.

  “You’d best cover up.” Albert gestured to the jacket draped over Ela’s suitcase.

  She hated to follow any direction from Albert, but he was right. Sighing, she picked up the beige jacket and slipped it on. Instantly, her skin stopped tingling. “Where’s our car? Mateo said a woman named Ana would be meeting us here.”

  Albert shrugged. “I don’t see any of our kind.” He picked up his brown leather suitcase and walked toward the shade of a nearby awning. “Let’s wait over there.”

  Ela’s frustration flared as she grabbed her suitcase. “Ridiculous. How hard can it be to get here on time?” Standing in the shade next to Albert, Ela scanned the crowd of humans in front of them. “It’s not as if this was a last minute trip.”

  “It wasn’t, but traffic was horrible.” A woman’s voice came from behind Albert and Ela in an even and melodic tone.

  Ela turned around and was face-to-face with the most incredible blue eyes. They rivaled Coleen’s in their intensity and vividness. Ela felt a rush of desire shoot through her, and her incisors extended slightly. “Poor planning.” In spite of her irritation with the woman, she couldn’t muster the intended malice in her tone.

  “You don’t seem any the worse for wear.” Ana smirked at Ela. “Plus, from what I’ve been told, you’re not exactly a planner yourself. Impulsive is the word that seems to float around a lot where you're concerned.” Ana extended her hand. “I’m Ana, by the way.”

  Stammering, she extended her hand. “I’m – I’m Ela.” She hadn't felt so awkward since she was a human.

  Ana smiled, her blue eyes looked over Ela from head to toe. “Yes, you are.”

  Albert cleared his throat and stepped toward Ana. “Howdy, I’m Albert.” He extended his hand and offered Ana a broad smile.

  Without looking away from Ela, Ana took Albert’s hand. “Nice to meet you.”

  Albert looked back and forth between the two women. “Right. Should we get going?”

  Ana broke eye contact and looked at Albert. “Yes. The car is across the way.” She nodded toward a cluster of parked cars and, putting a pair of tortoise shell sunglasses on, began walking through the thoroughfare of humans.

  Albert bent down and picked-up his suitcase. “She’s not very friendly.”

  Ela shook her head and pulled the strap of her black duffle bag over her right shoulder. “She’s a vampire, Albert. By our nature, we’re not very friendly.” Ela walked after Ana.

  Albert sighed. “There’s no need to be an overachiever.”

  ***

  Ana navigated the small two door car down the narrow cobblestone streets of Belem. Portions of the city still had structures the Portuguese colonists had built. Houses and storefronts alike were decorated in ornate blue and white ceramic tile work, and the city was dotted with large open-air markets selling everything from exotic fruit to scented bath soaps.

  “Is it always this crowded?” Albert clutched the plastic handle that hung from the car’s ceiling as Ana made another sharp turn, pitching him sideways.

  Ana glanced at the rearview mirror and gri
nned. “It’s always busy. The city bustles twenty-four hours a day, but this is heavier than usual.” Ana slammed on the brakes as three shirtless, dark haired men stumbled across the street. One man fell over the hood of the car and rolled onto the street.

  His overweight companion with an unkempt mustache hit the front of the car with his fist. “Mulher estúpida!”

  Ana pressed hard on the car’s horn and slowly lifted her right hand, extending her middle finger. The mustached man hit the hood of the car for a second time. Ela looked at Ana and then back at the drunken man. “Are you going to let him get away with that?”

  Ana, still focused on the half-naked drunk in front of her, smiled. “There’s no point in making a scene.” Ela reached for the door handle, but stopped short when Ana grabbed her wrist. “Look around. There are over a hundred humans. Even you would have trouble moving through them all.”

  Ela pulled her wrist free. “I’m not stupid.” Ela got out of the car and walked the few steps toward the men. The one was still sprawled on the ground.

  Albert leaned forward from the backseat. “This should be interesting.”

  Ana put the car in park and leaned back, crossing her arms across her chest. “If by interesting, you mean a horrific mess we’re going to be left cleaning up, then yes.”

  Ela walked around the car and leaned against the hood. “Any English, gentlemen?”

  The third man, who had been subdued in comparison to his counterparts, was attempting to lift the fallen man up from the ground. “Yes. A little.”

  Ela smiled and, pushing herself away from the car, walked closer to the three men. “Wonderful.”

  The mustached man took a step toward Ela and, leering at her breasts, grabbed his crotch. “Você quer isso?”

  Ela closed the space between them and stood toe to toe with the man. His body was covered in sweat, the odor of stale liquor and rotted food radiating from him. Ela ran her finger down the man’s bare bicep. It felt like a wet sponge.