The two decades had produced many benefits for Damien and Yugo. Several hordes of men had tried to assault them. This had led to them picking up a vast amount of money from their assailants. They had become rich without trying. Yugo was ecstatic about their change in status, Damien was not.
They had settled at a busy bar, drinking at a booth set far in the back. Their cups were full, their minds active. Yugo had convinced Damien that there were more than enough bad men that wanted to harm them in the tavern. Damien agreed to feed on the men rather than the vermin and livestock that were the livelihood of the local farmers. Yugo's argument was sound, but Damien knew Yugo only wanted to feed on human blood he had grown accustomed to.
The bar maid came up to them. “Do you fellows need anything?”
“No, we're good.” Damien told her.
Yugo slammed two coins onto the table. “Yes, we'll take two more pints!” He said while finishing his drink.
Damien looked at Yugo in disappointment.
The bar maid noticed a light purple glow in Yugo's eyes. “Okay, I'll have them over for you soon.” She left with their order, hurrying back to get away from Yugo.
Damien turned to Yugo. “Do you really have to be that flagrant with our money? Now every thug here is going to try and attack us when we leave. We've spent more than a month's income in front of the men here. It's too much.”
Yugo smiled and wiped off his chin the foamy beer that had spilled. “Don't worry. We're doing this town a favor by killing them. If they go for us, then they won't mug the next folks and the ones after them. We're stopping a cycle of pain. This is God's work.”
“God's work is leading men to God.” Damien stated.
Yugo quickly answered. “That's exactly what we are doing. Leading men to God, directly. Bad men at that! Men that need to be truly saved! We should get extra points for that!” Yugo was getting loud.
Several groups of lowly men were now blatantly staring at Yugo.
“See.” Yugo gestured to the men in the opposite dark corner. “They eagerly await us to deliver them to God.”
“Keep it down Yugo. We don't kill out of desire, we only defend. Can't you even attempt to be abstemious here?” Damien was scolding Yugo for doing what he had said nothing about for more than the last ten years.
“Why the change all of a sudden?” Yugo smiled at the men in the corners. “You never had second thoughts about this before? They're going to die in the end anyway. We're helping them along, that's all.”
Damien shifted his position. “Yes, as always, you're right Yugo. Let's get this over with.”
Yugo stood up, threw a few coins on the table and left with Damien in tow. Three groups of shady men instantly scurried out of their chairs to follow. Damien opened the door and Yugo stepped through. Damien looked around the room he counted eighteen men shuffling towards them.
“Don't think about it too much Damien. If it makes you feel better, I can do it all.” Yugo said to make Damien feel better.
Damien said nothing in return. Both he and Yugo walked down the street. Damien kept a good eye on the men that came after them. They were slow, lagging behind them. They were waiting for the light to fade from outside of the bar.
“Fine, you take most of them. I'll take the runners.” Damien settled with Yugo.
Yugo and Damien lead the men down the block. Damien noticed they were all formed into one large gang. He figured that by the amount of money Yugo was flashing around, their individual take was going to be worth it to work together. Six of the men pulled out knives. Three reached for short pipes hidden in their pant legs. The rest readied their fists.
Damien shrugged.
“What's the matter?” Yugo asked.
Damien spoke under his breath. “They don't seem to be very successful thieves. Only half of them are armed. The rest plan on beating us up with bare hands. It's almost sad.”
“Yes, but these men chose this.” Yugo reassured Damien.
“I know, as did we.” Damien became resolute. “Okay, this is far enough.”
Damien and Yugo turned around. The gang was surprised. They stood, waiting for one of them to say something.
“You have a problem we can help you boys with?” Yugo smiled. He looked at Damien.
One of the men with a knife in his right hand came forth. “Give us your money and we won't have to hurt you.” His statement was bold and confident. He had clearly done this before.
Damien grinned. He knew what was coming next. Yugo had developed a wit about this type of conversation. It had become quite funny to them both.
“Oh, this? You want this?” Yugo pulled his coat back, exposing the stuffed coin purse on his belt.
“Yeah. Hand it over or we'll have to kill you both.” The somewhat short, stout man repeated his threat. He played with his knife as he said it.
“So those are my choices then? Either hand you my coins, or have you attack us?” Yugo was pissing the man off intentionally.
“Okay, we can do it our way then.” The man was getting impatient.
“Oh, no, wait. I didn't mean I wouldn't cooperate. Here, you can have the money.” Yugo fiddled with his belt, fumbling, making it seem as if he was still drunk from the beers he had earlier. The bag fell to the ground. “Oops, sorry. I didn't mean to do that. But here, you can take it now.” Yugo stumbled to the side, a few feet away from the money.
“Glad to see you came to your senses.” The man stepped forward, reaching for the bag. He tossed it up into the air, catching it with his hand. “Okay, now you too.”
He was plainly asking for Damien to follow suit and give him his money as well. Damien smiled. “You seem to have a slight problem.”
Yugo closed the distance between him and the mugger, placing his left hand on the thug's back. He gently landed a soft touch. Then Yugo stepped back.
“What the hell was that?” The man turned to Yugo. “What did you do to me?” He looked at his fellow gang members. They didn't see anything weird. Only that Yugo had touched him. “Okay, that's it. Give me everything else, too. I want your clothes.”
“No.” Yugo said with a grin. “Actually, I want you to try and kill me now.”
“Why? I already have your money?” The man threw the bag into the air again.
Yugo swiftly snatched it before it landed back in his hand. “You mean this?”
Damien couldn't help but smile. He knew something was going to happen. Yugo was a showmen, he enjoyed making light of an attacker's death.
The thug wasn't amused. He lunged at Yugo. Planting his knife cleanly into Yugo's stomach. “See, that's what you get for-” The man suddenly fell to the ground, limp and lifeless.
Yugo bent down, cupping his hand to his right ear. “What was that? I couldn't hear the rest of that through your heart exploding.”
Damien stepped back and watched as the seventeen men ran at Yugo in one uniform action. Yugo evaded the first five men with knives. He quickly touched each of them on the forehead with his open palm, leading into the rest of the group. He walked a few feet away.
Yugo had shown no contrition. The men were confused, dazed. They acted as if they didn't know what was going on. They had lost their memories. The unarmed men, however, appeared to be different. They looked at the armed men with a murderous intent. They wanted to kill the first half of the group. They attacked with their bare hands. Yugo stood and watched as the men with weapons defended themselves and killed the second half of the gang. Yugo's had become pernicious with his gift.
After a few bloody minutes of slaughter. The remaining men turned to Yugo. “What the hell is going on? Why are they doing this?”
Yugo shook his head. He ran to them with great speed, piercing his left hand through the lower throat of the first man. Without hesitation, Yugo moved onto the next man. Removing his head with a backhanded right swing. Yugo was dancing. He threw his left hand downward, cutting through the third man, spilling his chest and stomach open. Yugo pivoted, spinning to lan
d his right elbow into the face of the fourth man. The fifth man had only noticed what Yugo was doing as the left side of his chest was ripped open. Yugo had moved behind him, jumping onto the chest of the sixth man. Yugo took a hold of his pipe as he punched the man's skull in. The seventh man began to scream as Yugo impaled him with the pipe. Yugo landed at the feet of the eighth man. He trembled in fear. Yugo extended his fingertips towards the man's ankles and quickly stood up. He traced a crisscross pattern as his fingers burst upwards. Yugo walked away as the man's body spouted blood. He fell over, dead from the massive trauma. Four seconds had passed. The eight men were nothing to Yugo. He enjoyed playing with them.
Damien laughed. “You never do the same thing twice, do you?”
“You never let me experiment anymore. I have to try new things when I can.” Yugo smiled and let the blood absorb into his skin. “You need to drink as well. Sorry there were no runners this time.”
“I don't care about that. You know me better than that Yugo.” Damien picked up the thug that Yugo had punched in the face. He bit into his throat.
“Yeah, I do know better.” Yugo picked up the man that he had elbowed in the face. “But making you say that has become a past time of mine.” Yugo bit into the dead man's neck.
Damien dropped his meal on the ground. The blood around his lips quickly absorbed into his skin. “Are you ready?”
Yugo let go of the drained corpse. It struck the ground in a pool of blood at Yugo's feet. “Yes. We're headed east now, right?”
“To the hidden temple that holds everything we need to know about us.” Damien took a deep breath. “We'll be able to find out everything, if they let us in.”
* * * *
“DON'T YOU FUCKING TOUCH HER!!!” Rebekkah screamed at Fear. She was crouched over Love's eviscerated body. She had been flayed open. Her chest cut down to her left hip. Her clothing was ripped open, she was dead. Her long blond hair was stained in her own red blood. Besides holding Love's soaked hand, Rebekkah was unscathed. She was fine, unhurt, unharmed.
“I don't need to argue with you.” Fear stood proud. He increased his fear aura, forcing Rebekkah to stop talking. “I will do whatever I want with her. It was her bargain, not mine.” Fear approached Love's rendered body. “Look, she's already coming back.”
Love's hand began to twitch, she gasped for a breath. Her open wound started to close, sealing itself as her life returned.
“She is strong. That makes 7,289 kills. She is amazing, Rebekkah. You should be thankful I made her.” Fear surveyed Love's beaten, bloodied chest. “It's been many years since I've sired anyone. I'm surprised that I can make someone this strong.” Fear smiled as she opened her eyes.
Love said nothing. She had become laconic. Her situation had become ambivalent. She got up, Rebekkah helped her. Love's dress was completely destroyed. “He didn't hurt you, did he?” Love asked Rebekkah as she limped to one side.
Rebekkah held Love tight, embracing her. “No. I'm fine.”
Love's eyes welled up with silent tears. “Good.”
Fear walked to the window. He peered down. The town was bustling with people. It was dark out. This was his time to work. Fear smiled again. “I expect ten tonight.”
“Ten!? We can't get that many in one night!” Rebekkah protested.
Love padded Rebekkah's right shoulder to calm her down. “She's right.”
“I didn't ask you, I told you.” Fear reiterated.
Love stared Fear in the eye. “How do you expect me to attract any men with this much blood on me? I need a new dress and a bath.”
“Then give me twelve.” Fear raised his quota.
“No, it can't be done!” Rebekkah argued.
“Fine. A new dress and a bath for twelve men.” Love agreed to the deal. She had shown her obeisance to Fear.
Pleased, Fear turned away from the window and left to order a dress for Love. The door closed and Love fell to her knees. She broke down crying.
“Love, don't give up now. We'll get away one day. I promise, please, don't give up.” Rebekkah hugged Love.
Love's eyes were blank. She was a shell of the young woman she was when they had met. Love was still holding her front against Fear. Her wit was the only thing keeping her from losing her mind. Fear had repeatedly killed every night over the last twenty years. Daily he cut her open without warning or provocation. Purely to torment Rebekkah. She was being used as a focal point for his pent up rage. Murdering someone that can't actually die kept Fear from slaughtering the many towns they traveled to. Love was being sacrificed for Fear. She was fighting a force that was beyond her, and she knew it. She had become obsequious to Fear.
Love's mind was failing. She was beginning to have strange dreams. Nightmares of a red ocean. Of a man with dark hair whispering to her. He was tempting her with acts of violence and revenge. He promised his own brand of wonderland to her. A world where Fear could never harm her again. A place where Rebekkah was allowed to live as she pleased. It was appealing, all she had to do was surrender. To let Fear kill her past the point of regeneration. Only then would she be able to find true peace away from the hell that was her current life. Love admitted, she was tempted by the offer.
“Love? Are you okay?” Rebekkah's voice brought her back from the edge.
Love had her arms around Rebekkah's neck. “You're so soft, like milk. So very soft.”
“Is there anything I can do while we wait for the dress?” Rebekkah carried Love over to the back of the room where the bath tub was ready.
“Remake me.” Love said as she collapsed.
Love's eyes were closed to the sight, but she was able to feel the breeze as the mist from the ocean filled the air. She was no longer in the room. It was something else, a special place. Love opened her eyes. The red waves instantly gave away her location. She was nowhere. It was a dream. The dark man came to tempt her again. He was going to woo her, steal her soul. He was going to succeed.
A shadow formed on the horizon. The blood on the sandy shoreline was rustling, it was eager for an event. The dark figure came close. His dark medium length hair glided on his long black coat. Several trinkets hung from it as trophies. He was a collector of sorts. His skin was pitch black. He smiled at Love. He walked to the water line, approaching her directly.
“Why did you bring me here?” Love asked the black visage before her.
Its skin revealed hues of color. In a moment it resembled an actual man. His skin was light, his face attractive. He stood five foot ten inches, he carried himself well. He extended his right hand out to Love's left cheek, reaching for it.
“I have come for your sake, Love.” The man stopped short of touching her. “You are about to fade away. I have come to offer you an escape from that. A deal in which you get everything you currently desire.” He planned to succor Love.
Love didn't respond. She waited for the man to say more.
The dark figure lowered his hand. “I am your salvation.”
“You are a stranger.” Love refuted.
“I am no stranger. I am the closest person to you. I am your gift. My name is Salas, and I am your demon.” Salas leaned into Love. “I am yours and you are mine.”
“You have no connection to me.” Love refused to acknowledge the link between them.
Salas raised his left arm, and pushed up his long sleeve to reveal his heavily bruised, nearly purple arm. There were scars, new and old on it.
Love gasped at the sight.
Salas pulled open his shirt. He showed Love the large open wound on his chest. He had been cut open recently. There were countless scars on him under his clothing.
Love shied away.
“Don't. This is your pain too.” Salas said as Love slowly gathered herself to look at the massive injuries that he had endured. “Yes, stare at the pain. We share more than you think. We bleed together, we live together. This is our connection, our bond.” Salas relaxed his stance. “We have both been wronged by Fear. The difference is that you
heal physically.”
Love was shaking. She didn't know what to say. Salas' body was grotesque.
“I carry the pain you ignore.” Salas gestured back to the ocean. “I live with it.” He turned back to Love. “There is only so much I can do to keep you alive.”
Chills ran down Love's back. “What do you mean?”
“I am the only reason you're still breathing.” Salas said with a grim voice. He was breaking very heavy news to Love. He didn't like it, but he needed to tell her. “When I can no longer close these wounds.” Salas pointed to his entire body. “You will cease to exist.”
“What will happen to you?” Love asked.
“Oh, so you can still care about the well being of others? That's good. It means I've only taken what I needed to.” Salas realized Love was confused. “It means that you have retained your innocence regardless of the horrors Fear has enacted upon you.”
“No. I lost everything when I asked him to make me a vampire.” Love showed remorse for her actions.
“Don't worry about that now.” Salas reassured her.
“Why not?” Love cried.
“You will be dead in three days.” Salas' words rang throughout Love's soul. “I want you to find peace before you die. I want to ensure your dreams are fulfilled before you fade.”
Love was in shock. She fell to the ground, curling up in a ball. She slowly rocked herself back and forth.
Salas knelt down next to her. “I can't help you like this. You need to choose. I can't take it from you without the words.” Salas caressed Love's long blond hair. “There is a sadness you don't want to ever show her, isn't there?”
Love looked up to Salas. “You know, don't you?”
“About the fire. Yes, I know everything you know and more.” Salas placed his hand on Love's right cheek. “It's not your fault you didn't die. Rebekkah was at the wrong place at the wrong time.”
Love began to cry again. She put her hand on Salas'.
“You had to do it. There was no other choice. They were no longer your family, not after what they let happen to you. They deserved the flames.” Salas leaned down and kissed Love on the forehead. “You had every right to set that fire.”
Demon Vampire (The Redgold Series) Page 63
