The Night Within Us: Dark Vampire Romance

by Sylvie Grohne

  “You've got a nice place here,” she then says and plays with the flashy ruby ring on the ring finger of her right hand. “I only got to see it from the inside once before. That was the day I followed you to San Diego, Airas, and got to know you there.”

  “Is it really true? You're Violette? The Violette?” You can see the disbelief and tension in Airas's face. Instead of answering, Violette raises her right hand and executes two quick motions with her wrist, almost as if she were flicking something away. My brother's facial features change instantly, as if she lifted a curtain, allowing him to see her for what she really is. Unmistakable hatred flares up like a flame within him, distorts his face and makes his fangs shoot forth. He lunges at Violette in rage, but even before he reaches her, a motion of her arm as if she were handing something out sends him flying backwards through the entryway and crashing into the nearest wall.

  “Airas!” I leap down the last step, horrified, and hurry over to him, but he's already scrambling up with a snarl. I can see his rage has not yet been expended and is still burning within him, and he prepares to attack a second time. Before I can stop him, he is rushing at Violette again, who now lowers her head in a way that bodes no good, and narrows her eyes to menacing slits. With a flourish, she raises her arms in front of her and this time catapults Airas even more violently across the room. I can hear his bones breaking, and have to fight the blinding rage and the urge to attack the witch right back. It's pointless. I know that. She's more powerful than us, and yet it's hard to suppress the urge to go at her. I sink to my knees beside Airas. This witch has my parents on her conscience and she abducted my twin brother. She fed him lies and manipulated him, and then threw herself at my older brother too and played with his affections. Only to do this to him now. I cast a glance at Aven, who is still standing on the bottom step and following the events carefully with a serious expression, as is Violette, who doesn't move from the spot and watches us too.

  Airas groans quietly from the pain, and I lean over him. Suddenly he grabs me by the collar of my shirt and pulls me right down close to his mouth. “Listen, little one. . . I'm going to distract her, then you get out of here, run to safety,” he whispers barely audibly. Then he starts to cough. In pain, he holds his ribs, one or several of which are probably broken. I know full well how sore it is when they put themselves back together. It won't take long till he's better, that's my only consolation.

  And no. No matter what he says – there's no way I'm leaving him behind, alone with that witch. His eyes are closed now. I press his hand lovingly as I frantically try to think of something to do, when all of a sudden my whole body is covered in goose bumps. Hot breath brushes my neck and a disgusting smell hits my nose.

  “No, Skin! Don't you touch her.” Aven's voice echoes in my ears. Loud, menacing and not without fear.

  In my panic, my breathing is rapid and shallow, and although I'm afraid to turn and look, I whip my head around. Déjà vu. It feels like déjà vu when I see the broad face of the dog-like creature before me – only inches from my face. One of those revolting creatures from my dreams. Something that made its way out of Aven's head and into mine, and is really standing before me now, with its big, disgusting muzzle, staring at me menacingly. Saliva dribbles from its mouth unchecked. A nightmare come true. Where did the creature come from? Where the hell did it come from so suddenly?

  Carefully I ease my torso back a bit, to create distance between myself and the threatening muzzle, away from the nasty smelling breath. This results in its jaws opening with an ominous growl, revealing countless needle-like teeth. With a hostile expression, the beast stares at me from two completely different colored eyes.

  “What the hell?” Airas pushes himself up and tries to position himself protectively in front of me, but I stop him, pressing him back down. He isn't entirely healed yet, and I'm stronger than he is.

  “Tell him not to hurt her. Tell him!” Aven leaps from the last step toward Violette, who watches him unperturbed. He stops only a few inches short of her. “Please,” he says now and holds her gaze.

  “Did you hear that? Your brother is begging for your life. Here I spent 133 years teaching him not to show weakness, and all it takes is you to turn him from a merciless hunter into a weakling.”

  “What did you do with our father?” Where I got the courage to speak my thoughts out loud, although the four-legged beast is still panting its hot breath in my face, I don't know.

  “If you're still nursing hopes of seeing him again, then I'm afraid I'm going to have to disappoint you.” She draws her red lips back into a hollow smile.

  “Should Ramon ever again set foot on this earth, you'll all have long since been dust under his shoes. Destroying you is my retaliation for his transgressions. I want to see the pain in his eyes.” I tremble with rage and impotence at these words, and run my tongue nervously over my fangs, which I wish I could bore into her neck.

  “And what about me?” The tone of Aven's voice is accusatory. “Why am I still alive? Why did you let me live in the belief I was your son?”

  “You are my son. Ramon owed it to me. The prophecy destined him to be father to my son. You have my blood in you too; when you were an infant, I fed you from my own blood. You are mine.”

  This explanation seems to leave Aven dumbfounded, and Airas starts laughing at the top of his lungs. In spite of the slobbery monster before us, he stands up laughing and glares at Violette aggressively. He seems to have recovered from his injuries.

  I too get up cautiously, without letting Skin – as Aven called the monstrosity – out of my sight. The hulking beast comes up to my hip.

  “Interesting. I'm gradually starting to see what's going on. One you make into your son and the other, your lover. Is there anything else we should know?”

  “What can I say, Airas, you have almost the same qualities as your father. The same fire burns within you. I'll tell him that, if the opportunity presents itself.” Violette's smile is goading.

  “Do you know what else I have in common with my father? Without your hocus pocus, I would have been just as reluctant to fuck you as he was.”

  My brother has barely spoken these words when she snaps her fingers imperiously, her forehead furrowed in anger. Skin immediately comes to life and leaps at Airas. I automatically try to stop him by throwing myself between the two of them and trying to fend off the monstrous beast. My attempt to grab it fails, because it's even stronger and faster than I thought. It pulls me to the ground with its muscular body. Countless tiny knives dig into the skin of my upper arm and bury themselves deep in my flesh. I scream. I scream out against the burning pain. With all the power I can muster, I try to grab the monstrosity, but its hand-like claws press down on my body so deftly, I can barely defend myself.

  Violette's malicious laughter reaches my ears, mixing with Airas's curses as he is thrown across the room again as if by an invisible hand, and crashes into the walls. Over and over. He doesn't get the chance to help me.

  “No, Skin!” Aven's voice is furious. Desperate. He seems to be struggling against a spell which prevents him from moving. I only catch a fleeting glimpse of his enraged face and his strange, rigid stance.

  When the pressure from the beast's jaws suddenly lets up and it pulls its teeth from my flesh, my heart skips a beat. Is it going to bite me somewhere else now? My throat perhaps? Am I going to die now? Die at last? And why does the thought that I didn't get to see Noah one last time hurt so insanely all of a sudden? If it's really true that of all people the two of us created new life, then he won't even find out if I die now. My flood of thoughts dries up, because the animal is eyeing me up now, from one blue and one brown eye. A look which suddenly doesn't look at all threatening anymore.

  I barely dare breathe, and before I even realize what is happening, Aven pounces on him from behind. He grabs Skin and hurls him away from me, so that he lands a few yards away with a loud crack. Where the hell does he get his energy? How can he be so much stronger
than me?

  My wounds are slowly starting to close up. My eyes scour the room frantically in search of Airas, but I can't find him. Only when I sit up do I see him lying on the steps to the basement. He isn't moving. I try to get up and it takes three attempts, because my legs won't listen to me at first.

  The whimpering to my left makes me look back again. Aven has raised himself up in front of Skin, who is lying submissively before him. “You know you wouldn't be the first V-DOG I took care of. Don't you dare touch her again!”

  Violette's expression as she looks at the two of them blazes with rage. An expression that doesn't escape Aven either.

  “Are you really surprised that I have something to pit against your powers? That your sorcery reaches its limits with me? I never dared rebel against you. I saw what happened to those who did. But now – today – I can feel the might and the power within me, which you gave to me. With your blood – Mother.” He practically spits the last word out.

  “Don't go thinking you can take me on.”

  In the blink of an eye she is beside me, tearing my head back by the hair and ramming her teeth savagely into my neck.

  “No,” my entire being cries out within me, “I've had enough. I can't take any more, I can't take it!” Furious, I mobilize all the power I have left in me to push her off. Aven comes to my aid, but even before he reaches us I manage to free myself. Or is it her who suddenly lets go? She staggers back two steps and starts laughing out loud. She wipes my blood from the corner of her mouth and gazes at me in amusement.

  “Well, well, if somebody isn't carrying a sweet secret inside her.” She laughs once more and looks at Aven. “Then your brotherly love really has borne fruit already?”

  “It's not mine,” Aven growls through gritted teeth.

  “Oh,” she groans in feigned disappointment. “No grandchild for me then?”

  Aven gives a slight shake of his head.

  She straightens her red dress and then says, almost as an aside, “Then she will die as planned.”

  “If you do anything to her, I'll kill you.”

  Violette's facial features fall like the curtain in a theatre, and her rage comes to the forefront once more.

  “Skin, you miserable coward!” She orders him over to her with a hand gesture and he hurries to her side, head bent meekly. “One more scene like that and I'll pull your skin off and make you into a wretched throw rug.”

  Hesitantly I creep back a few steps. Will the beast pounce on me again in a minute?

  The panting and grunting I suddenly hear behind me makes me whip around in panic. Airas is gone. He is no longer lying on the stairs to the basement. Instead, another 'V-DOG' – as Aven called the creatures – climbs the last step and moves toward me. I breathe in fits and starts. This one may be somewhat smaller and different from the other one, but it's still revolting to look at, and terrifying. After all, I experienced first-hand just how sharp their teeth are.

  Where on earth has Airas got to?

  I search for a connection between his disappearance and the appearance of this beast, and as I look more closely at the V-DOG a horrible suspicion comes over me. The fur of this creature is somewhat curly, and the blue eyes it watches me out of remind me a lot of my brother's.

  “Airas?” I ask, appalled, and step aside, because the animal now fixes its gaze on Violette and heads straight for her. To my horror, it lies down subserviently at her feet.

  Even before I can think any more about what this means, Aven grabs me, tosses me over his shoulder and runs at lightning speed down the steps to the basement. Even though I try to get free, he runs all the way along the basement passage, through the swinging door to the pool and only now does he stop short. As usual, the blinds aren't closed here, and the light of sunrise brightens the back portion of the room.

  “Let me down. What are you doing Aven?”

  He takes me off his shoulder and looks at me entreatingly. “We have to get out of here. Don't you understand? It's one of her games – she has turned Airas into a V-DOG and cast a spell on him, so he'll kill you. If I don't want to watch as he kills you, I have to kill him. Either way, she's going to win.”

  “You can't kill him. No matter what, you can't kill him!” I tell him, horrified. “He's your brother too.”

  “That's exactly the reason we have to get out of here, but of course she has bound all the doors and windows with an enchantment. It's a very strong enchantment. I may have my own powers and can resist some of hers, but I'm afraid I can't break this spell.” An anxious furrow forms between his amber-colored eyes. His gaze wanders to the hidden door, which is at the back by the other end of the pool and which leads outside. You can tell by his facial expression that he's concentrating hard right now.

  “You know your way around here. . .” I put my surprise into words. Still, I don't want to interrupt him, because I know we're running out of time. Violette and the V-DOGS could turn up here any moment.

  The strain dissolves from his face and he shakes his head, disappointed.

  “It didn't work, and yes – I saw you swimming through the window up there once.”

  Barely has he said that, than I remember the night I was here with Noah and heard a noise. And something else suddenly comes to mind.

  “You killed Phil too, didn't you? That's why I saw him dead.”

  Aven doesn't look at me, but he nods. Once more, my feelings are caving in on me. There's so much I want to say to him, so many accusations I want to hurl, but I can't find a single word within me.

  39

  Ramon

  Our bliss had a name. Poco Cielo – little heaven – that's what Emilia called our small, secluded hut in the Alpujarra from then on. We spent the first half of the year 1879 in a state of virtual intoxication, making love to the point of exhaustion, and even then, loving on.

  Emilia made me forget what had become of me. The innocent passion and depth with which she returned my feelings was like an external supply of life which she fed me. It was a dizzying bliss, which I still wasn't sure I deserved.

  The majority of the nights that summer we spent by the river. Emilia loved the coolness of the water and liked the calming burble. Without even trying, she taught me to pay attention to and find joy in things I'd never even noticed before. She opened my eyes and my feelings for so many things I had lost and which I found again, bit by bit, thanks to her. At night, the intense smell of night-scented gilliflower and perennial honesty, which she planted to bring the scent of flowers into the night for me, surrounded the house.

  “It isn't fair that most flowers close their buds at night,” she explained, and all I could do was kiss her for how enchanting she was.

  In August Emilia didn't return one day from her errands in the village, and my worry for her almost tore me apart. But the sun forced me to wait. When it finally went down, I ran out into the night to search for Emilia, fear tugging at me with nervous fingers.

  I found her in a meadow near the river, pale and lifeless, lying in a bed of wild poppies. The provisions she had bought, cherries, bread and goats milk cheese, lay scattered around her.

  Relieved I could hear her heartbeat, I buried my face in her blonde hair and carried her home.

  When she came to, she was a little confused and couldn't understand why she had fainted, but I picked up the change in her scent and guessed the cause.

  She was expecting my child.

  “A child?” The surprise in her eyes when I shared my suspicion with her was a mixture of fear and joy. I could see she could hardly believe it either. We had our definitive proof two weeks later when I was able to hear the heartbeat of the unborn child.

  While the pregnancy made Emilia even more beautiful, positively blooming, I spent my nights extending our hut. First, I built her a second room as a nursery and a little pantry. Later I erected a stable next to the house too, because Emilia wanted a goat and some hens so she could be less dependent on the village.

  When Emilia's stomach g
rew rounder and rounder, I built a cradle with lavish carvings for our unborn child. I loved to see the joy in Emilia's eyes over the cot, and how, even before the baby was born, she would sometimes rock it with a silent smile on her lips.

  The path into the village became too difficult for her, and so once darkness fell, I would get us food from a farmer twice a week and fresh water from the river daily.

  In the night of the 17th of March, 1880, the contractions began and Emilia writhed in pain, which grew worse by the hour. Her waters broke and I begged her to allow me to fetch the midwife from the village, but she made me promise not to.

  “There isn't much time left till sunrise, and you can't suddenly disappear into your underground hideout with the midwife here. She would realize something isn't right. They're already talking about us in the village as it is.” She squeezed my hand and gave me a beseeching look. “Besides. . .” she gasped through the pain of a contraction, “you can't leave me now. I need you!”

  Before the first rays of sun broke through the windows of the hut, we clambered down below and I laid her down on the soft pile of fleeces. Emilia's face was red, twisted with pain and covered in droplets of sweat, and for the first time in over half a century, I prayed. I begged God to forgive me my sins and promised to never again turn away from him, if only he wouldn't take Emilia and our child from me.

  It was around midday when our son Airas was born in that room beneath the hut. Moved, I caught him as he emerged, cut the umbilical cord with my knife and wrapped him in a cotton cloth. Emilia cried with sheer joy when I laid him in her arms, and I too had tears in my eyes. I never tired of gazing upon our little son, and could hardly believe my luck. He had Emilia's blue eyes, and I thanked God for his mercy.

  In October of the following year I again noticed a change in Emilia's scent. She was with child once more. I was immediately able to hear the heartbeat of the child. . . no, the heartbeats of two children. We were expecting twins.