Gift of the Nightflyer

by Sultry Summers

  “Come, Jamie,” Ignatio handed him a healthy portion of brandy in a glass. “Stand here by the fire so you can warm and dry. It would do your son no good for you to take ill. You are all he has now.” The Count put his arm around the distraught man and drew him near the fire.

  “I had her for such a short time,” Jamie sighed. “When my father announced that he wished us to marry, I was not happy about marrying a woman I had never met. One from a Clan, my Clan, had been at odds with for many generations. But, well, you don’t go against your father’s wishes where I come from and part of the terms of the agreement was a fine home that sat on both Clans’ lands, a way to unite us.” Jamie sat down, his legs wobbly. “Oh, then came the spring morning of our wedding and I saw my bonnie Maggie for the first time. I could not speak. She was so beautiful in a lavender dress with a crown of woven wildflowers in her hair and a pink blush on her fair cheeks. She would hardly look at me for awhile. She was shy and not any more pleased about the arranged marriage than I had been. Finally, she looked at me, and neither one of us could look away. I think we both fell in love at the first look.” Jamie shook his head, “I don’t know how I will tell her parents. I do so hope little Jamie has her eyes to remind me of her.”

  Terrible guilt assaulted Ignatio. He loved Margaret and was more than happy to have her as his own, but he remembered the pain Jamie was feeling from his own unhappy experience. He wasn’t sure that had his own son lived, he would have faired much better. It had taken him months to be able to function after Alexis and his son had died. Thankfully, his staff had carried the weight of running the fief he was responsible for. Now look at it, he thought bitterly, ‘since this damnable so-called “gift,” he had reduced it to nothing. His people had left and moved to prosperous fiefs. Once a thriving town, his township now was a dirty, rundown stopover for poor lost wayward souls such as these. Ignatio was sickened by what he had become. He hoped Margaret could help him, she was pure goodness, and, with her aid, maybe they could find a cure for this condition. Ignatio refused to give up hope that there must be a solution to his condition, perhaps no one had tried before. He drained his brandy.

  “Jamie, go on up to bed. If you are truly going to leave as early as dawn, you need to get some sleep. I know you are exhausted,” Ignatio said sympathetically.

  “You are, of course, correct, Count,” Jamie said without argument. Ignatio’s will was strong, but in Jamie’s current condition, that had little to do with Jamie’s capitulation.

  He too drained his glass of brandy and, with dread in his steps, ascended the stairs to sleep in a different room than the one he had shared with Margaret. Ignatio had felt it would be easier on the man not to sleep where his wife had died. In truth Margaret still occupied those rooms and was spending the last hours possible with her son.

  Little Jamie was thriving on goat’s milk. Margaret didn’t dare breastfeed the child for fear of further exposing him to what she had become. Already she worried about the two bites Ignatio had given her before she delivered him. When he came to check on her, Margaret planned on asking him about that. It would be horrible if one day Jamie changed into a vampire. The thought sickened her and she was anxious about it. The click of a key in the door lock made her jump. Either Ignatio or the housekeeper was coming to visit.

  “Margaret, how are you?” Ignatio asked concern in his voice.

  “Still a little weak but stronger than…” She paused as a tear ran down her face and he gently wiped it away, “before,” she finished the sentence.

  “Soon you will be amazed at the power at your control,” Ignatio explained, hoping to cheer her, but as he watched her holding her child nursing his bottle, he knew it was a ridiculous effort.

  “Ignatio,” Margaret’s voice held a question Ignatio feared she would ask, “will the two times you bit me before Jamie’s birth effect him?”

  “Margaret, I truthfully do not know. I have gathered every book I can find in this general area on vampire lore. There are many legends, but not many facts. I have also collected all the medical books I can find on conditions of the blood, but on that there is little. In a short time we will close the manor and travel to all the great centers of learning and try to find an answer in one of the great medical universities.”

  “Ignatio, I must know what you know.” She looked down at her two-day old son. “Because if he will turn into one of us someday, he must be warned, so that he too can be on the watch for a cure. Please Ignatio, bring me some of the books you have and allow me to look through them.”

  “Margaret, my library is at your disposal and I will bring what books might be most informative to you this night but can you read them? They are mostly in Latin.” Ignatio did not wish to insult Margaret but it was uncommon for a woman to be well educated enough to read, much less to read Latin.

  “Yes, Ignatio, I can read English, Latin, French, and German.” She smiled. “Does this surprise you? My family is wealthy, I was sent to college.” Suddenly her smile changed, tears welled up in her eyes and began rolling down her cheeks. “I wish to go home. I will never see Scotland again.”

  “You will see Scotland again, Margaret, I swear it to you,” Ignatio told her. “I will take you there. Actually, one of the medical schools we will visit is in Scotland. You may check on your family when we go, from a distance, and for that I am sorry, but you will be able to see them.”

  “Promise me?” Margaret said, wiping her tears away.

  “Yes, I promise you.” Ignatio took a linen handkerchief and gently blotted her tears away. “I must go now.”

  “You have to feed, don’t you?” Margaret asked tentatively.

  “Yes and for both of us, he told her and gently took Jamie to give the child to his father. “I will bring him to you before it is time for him to leave in the morning and I will be back so that you may feed.” He saw a peculiar look cross her face and realized it was an effort to disguise her disgust at the thought of what she must now do in order to live.

  Ignatio turned and left her, with his ultra-sensitive hearing he heard Margaret’s weeping as he walked down the hall. Ignatio did not regret in any way his decision to change Margaret, he could not have stood by and allowed her to die, but he had hoped she would except her fate and handle it better.

  Ignatio knocked on the bedroom door where Jamie had been moved. At Jamie’s acknowledgement, the Count opened the door and entered then laid the sleeping child in his crib. “I will bid you goodnight, Jamie.” The Count said and made to leave until Jamie stopped him.

  “Count, I believe your manor is haunted,” Jamie told him.

  “Really. How so?” Ignatio asked.

  “I’ve heard weeping several times. Your ghost is unhappy.” Jamie said with a funny, suspicious look in his eyes. Since he had come to this house strange things had happened. Jamie had been so concerned over his wife’s condition that he had dismissed them. Now, however, they were coming back to him with clarity and now he was hearing strange weeping coming from the upstairs room he and Margaret had occupied. Had he not seen her body and knew her to be dead, he would not be convinced.

  “Jamie, you have been through a terrible experience, perhaps this has influenced what you’ve heard,” the Count suggested. “I must go and you, my friend, need to rest. I have arranged a driver for your carriage. He will take you as far as Vienna from there you can take a train through the countryside to the coast, then a ship on to Scotland.”

  “Thank you, Count,” Jamie said rubbing his neck. He was tired, heartbroken, and homesick. Maybe when he got back to Scotland some of this pain would subside.

  “Till the morning then,” Ignatio said and left, closing the door gently so as not to wake the baby.

  Chapter Ten

  With a heavy heart, Count Magonoff left his home for his nightly feed. Tonight he would choose a donor with a healthy supply of blood. Margaret would feed from him, his system would have already cleansed the blood. Ignatio would be sure that she only got what would
build her weak body up. Since he had disposed of Lady Leslie, her driver Carloff, had left. He had not questioned her disappearance, or asked to take his leave, but on the day Leslie had died, Carloff had just left. The Count no longer had a driver he could trust with what he was. He had hired Jamie’s driver for the sole purpose of transporting Jamie and the baby.

  To feed, Ignatio would change into one of several forms and go out into the countryside, then change back into his true form when necessary. This night he chose to become a wolf and on his four trustworthy paws, he came upon one of the shepherds who had worked for him at one time. Resuming his true form, he approached the young man who recognized him immediately.

  “Count,” he said bowing slightly. “What are you doing out so late and alone?”

  “Ah, after all the rain it has turned out to be a fine evening and I was tired of being indoors.” The Count sighed and sat on a rock, thinking about this young man whom he had known since he was a boy. He wouldn’t kill him, but he was a healthy, robust man who could provide a goodnight’s feed. Already his dogs were close by and they would keep the real wolves from bothering him once he was unconscious.

  The shepherd looked into the Count’s eyes and found he was mesmerized, unable to look away, his will was no longer his own. He saw peace in his Count’s eyes, lulled by that peace he sat motionless as the Count moved slowly closer to him. One of his dogs howled, he listened to the sound, each note the animal made seemed to float on the air before him. The cool hand of the Count touched his neck and soothed the young man’s pulse that had raced upon Count Magonoff’s unexpected arrival. The shepherd drew a deep, easy breath, the air smelling heavy of clover after the rain. Peaceful, the shepherd didn’t feel the Count’s fangs pierce his neck, just an overwhelming sense of contentment and peace as he fell into a deep and dreamless sleep to be safely watched over by his trustworthy dogs.

  Count Magonoff walked a distance away from his victim, mainly to distance himself from the shepherd’s dogs and changed into a wolf again. He was always amazed at the freedom he felt in the animal form. The wolf was his favorite and he wondered if there might be a way to remain in this form. Perhaps that would be his solution. Just outside his manor’s gate he resumed his true form and quietly entered his home. He climbed the stairs to see Margaret, knowing she needed to feed. He unlocked the door with some trepidation, wondering what condition he would find Margaret in and hoping she had not cried more during his absence. After her husband left at dawn, she would be able to freely move about the manor and be the grand house’s Mistress. Intuition told him she would be a far superior one to Lady Leslie. He hoped the responsibility of running the house would fill her time and take her mind from the devastating events that had brought her to this situation in her life. He found her asleep, her long red hair spread out over the white sheets, she was still so pale she almost blended with them.

  “Margaret,” Ignatio said gently, “Margaret.” She awakened.

  “I’m sorry, I’m still so tired,” Margaret said, apologetically.

  “Margaret, you need not apologize for anything.” Ignatio sat on the bed next to her.

  He pulled a lock of hair from her face. “This will help you feel more alive.” Ignatio opened his wrist as he had the night before and put it to her lips. He saw the same look of thinly disguised revulsion flash over her face; but she drew his blood and drank. She had not discovered her own fangs yet, they were there, Ignatio could feel them against his skin. She drank little and pulled away. “Margaret, you must drink more than that, do not fear you will drain me, there is plenty.”

  “Did you kill to take this?” She asked him in a quiet voice.

  “No, I did not. I have yet to kill but one donor and he was a rapist,” he told her truthfully. This young man felt nothing but pleasure and his sheep dogs will protect him. “Now, Margaret, you must drink more, you must regain your strength. It would be nice to have you accompany me on my nightly feeds and I could use help finding a cure for our situation.” He put his wrist back to her mouth but a vampire’s wounds close quickly.

  She pierced his wrist with her own fangs, the sensation to Ignatio was pure pleasure and he sank to the chair beside her bed.

  “Did I hurt you?” She asked instantly concerned.

  “No,” his voice was low and throaty, “to bite another vampire causes pleasure.”

  “Oh!” Margaret returned to finish her feed and, as he had promised, Margaret did feel better. “Thank you, Ignatio,” she told him. “How long will it be until dawn and Jamie’s departure?”

  “A few hours, Margaret. Now that you are more alert let us talk about our future,” Ignatio said gently, seeing a guarded look come into her eyes. “Margaret, I love you. I’ve known it almost from the first time I saw you.” She looked at him skeptically.

  “Did you have no feelings for Lady Leslie at all?” Margaret asked.

  “At first there was a great physical attraction, sexually intense,” he said, then, looking into her kind and sympathetic eyes, Ignatio told Margaret the whole story.

  Chapter Eleven

  Lady Leslie watched from her perch atop a high tree near the manor each night since Carloff had saved her. She changed herself into an owl after her feed and watched through the huge windows, staring down into the study and into the parlor. She had seen the second little bite Magonoff had bestowed on Margaret to calm her and keep her from going into labor. Afterward she had flown to her new lodgings with Carloff. She had sold the magnificent ruby ring Ignatio had given her and, with those funds she would live well for a number of years. Carloff, ever the faithful servant, had been waiting for her, but their relationship had begun to change. After he had saved her, Leslie had decided Carloff worthy of her gift. She had, with his consent, begun the transformation.

  Carloff had proven to be the gentlest of all the lovers she had ever taken. He loved her body and, could she say, soul? He had never kissed her. Before she would always stand for him to satisfy her when she was in need and that was all. Now, he truly made love to her. When he kissed her for the first time, he had taken his place as a man, not a servant and Leslie knew that the one she had looked for so long, had been always close at hand. He had pulled her to him, when she cried after seeing the Count with Margaret for the first time, and held her close. He had kissed her tears away then taken her lips with his, his tongue stroked hers.

  “I grow tired of seeing these unworthy males take advantage of you, milady,” Carloff said when he released her lips. “I have stayed with you, watching them, and wanting you, not just to satiate you when they didn’t, but all the time. I wanted to make love to you.” He kissed her again, his hands gentle, as they had moved over her breasts fondling them. He kissed her neck and nipped her with his normal teeth just a little, sending tingles down her body. He kissed her nipples and sucked each one, worshiping them. He continued to kiss her body until she trembled as his rough, masculine hands explored her soft form. He found her wet cunt and slid his fingers between the lips, his thumb massaged her clit and left her breathless. Carloff soon replaced his hand with his tongue, but not before he questioned the jewelry he found in such an unusual place.

  Leslie had sobbed. She remembered clearly the night that Ignatio had given her those gold rings. Carloff kissed her, soothing her distress, his tongue moving down to her nether lips to resume teasing her cunt, until she was groaning under his tender love strokes. Carloff slid one of his rough fingers deep inside her velvety wet vagina. She sighed and began to meet his rhythm and he slid in another one. Leslie couldn’t believe the waves of pleasure Carloff was gently sending through her so recently misused body. Leslie’s hands were not still, she began exploring the hard muscles of Carloff’s hardworking body. He was solid muscle and she found she loved them. To kiss his broad chest and get lost in his blond curls, Leslie found exquisitely arousing. Her hands found his massive cock that had satisfied her on many occasions. Carloff’s tongue brought her to the edge of a tremendous orgasm and Lesl
ie was ready for his cock to fill her. He moved to kiss her lips, Leslie’s own musk fresh on his lips. Positioning his cock on the edge of her vagina, Carloff slowly merged with her body while staring down into her blue eyes, filling Leslie’s cunt to her full measure. He didn’t begin to move immediately but held her to kiss her face. With torturously slow, sweet movements, he built their climax until Leslie was compelled to meet his rhythm. Her hips arching to meet his, as he propelled her onward through one orgasm and into a second.

  Driven by her instincts, Leslie licked his neck and with her most gentle, yet powerful efforts, drove her fangs deep into his neck to find his blood rich and plentiful. The harder she drew his blood, the harder he drove into her. Carloff seemed invigorated by her bite of love and she finished before he did, something that had never happened to Leslie before. With just a trickle of blood on his neck, Carloff looked down at his Lady and smiled.

  “I have loved you, Leslie, for so long. I am your true mate; not these others who have all treated you so badly. I will defend you and take care of you. No one will ever hurt you again.” Carloff rolled off to lie next to her, holding her close until they both slept.

  Lady Leslie knew she had at last found the man who was her mate. Despite her revelation, the next night she sat on her perch outside the manor and watched the Count again. She would have her revenge. Knowing it would take many years, she wanted as much information as she could gather and until Carloff was changed she would collect it. This night she saw Margaret go into labor; but had to leave before the baby was born, the dawn came first. She had found her feed out this night, because she would not bite Carloff two nights in a row. She looked forward to the comfort found in Carloff’s arms when she returned to the warmth of their cottage.