by Trisha Baker
When they left the house, Charles informed her that he was taking her out for some fun—all "business" talk was suspended. She'd been happy to go along, and he took her to a sock hop sponsored by a local school.
"This is great," she enthused while thirstily gulping down a Coke. "You like rock and roll?"
"I love it," Charles answered.
She thought he must. He was fantastic on the dance floor. After she caught on to the new dances, they'd whirled to "Jailhouse Rock," "Whole Lotta Shakin' Goin' On," "Rock Around the Clock," "Hound Dog," and "Tutti Frutti". She loved the new music teenagers were dancing to. It had never been so much fun to dance.
She was humming "Earth Angel," and Charles grinned. "I take it you like rock and roll too?"
"It's fantastic," she replied, and made a face. "But of course he disapproves, so I have to buy albums on the sly and listen when the master goes out."
"Tell me about it," a young girl complained to her. "My dad's the same way. They never want to let you have any fun!"
Meghann laughed. The girl thought she was discussing her father. But in a way, that was what Simon was. Outside of bed, he usually addressed her the way a parent did an errant child.
"You guys were great out there," the girl complimented. Then her boyfriend came over and pulled her back onto the dance floor. She threw over her shoulder: "You're a real cute couple!"
Meghann considered that. At first, she'd been worried that maybe Charles would make a pass at her—not that she didn't like him, she was just tired of feeling like her looks were the only thing she had going for her. But Charles was treating her like a little sister. Even when they were dancing, she felt a certain impersonal quality in the way he held her.
"Hungry?" Charles inquired.
"Starving."
"Well, I have a room at the Algonquin. They still have room service, and it would be a private place where we can talk. Would you like that?"
"Sure." In a way, she was a little disappointed to leave the dance. Pretending to be just another dance-crazy teenager was so much fun. But now it was back to the boring business of being a creature of the night—and figuring out what Vampira was going to do now that she'd spat on her master's orders.
Charles saw the corners of her mouth pull down and said, "Hey, this is just the beginning. You think I took you out so that I could dump you back in his clutches? I promise you, there's a lot more where tonight came from."
While they were walking to the hotel, Meghann decided to clear the air. "Charles? I just want to get things straight. You're not thinking I'm going to exchange you for Simon, are you?"
"Meghann, I swear you need not worry that I find you attractive."
Her mouth dropped and he said hastily, "I knew I wouldn't put that right! Meghann, it's not that you're ugly—far from it. I think you're one of the most beautiful girls I've ever seen. It's just that—I don't like girls."
Meghann was perplexed. "Well, if you don't like girls, who do you like?"
Charles stared at her calmly and then the answer came to her.
"Oh!" she cried in embarrassment. "I'm sorry… I shouldn't have said anything."
"No, Meghann, I'm glad we got it out of the way early. Do you mind?"
"Mind?" She giggled. "I think it's great!" At his quizzical look, she replied, "Not that you're homosexual. I don't mean that's great. That's just a fact. No, it's just that for years I've been with somebody who when he looks at me only seems to think of… well, you know. I meant it's great to be talking to a guy—Simon doesn't really talk to me about anything important; he treats me like a little simpleton."
"Simon's a fool if he doesn't want to talk to you," Charles said in contempt. "You're quite intelligent, and I enjoy your company. In fact, I feel very close to you."
Meghann replied shyly, "I feel very close to you too—like I've known you for a long time."
Charles considered. "Maybe we knew each other in a past life. Or maybe it's because we're so close in age—I've only been a vampire for twenty-five more years than you. I think we're both among the youngest vampires in the world." He escorted her to his small room where they both ordered substantial meals from room service.
At first, they were both too hungry to talk. Meghann demolished a cheeseburger, fries, and a cheese omelette while Charles devoured two plain burgers, fried clams, and an ice-cream sundae. Vampires had incredible metabolisms!—she never had to worry about gaining weight.
"Charles," she asked while sipping a chocolate malted, "how did you become a vampire?"
"It was 1918. I had recently finished medical school and was an intern. America had entered World War I, and I was drafted. I was put to work in an army hospital on the front lines. My father was a wealthy congressman—he could have easily arranged a safer post. But he had discovered my predilections. I guess he thought better a dead son than a homosexual one. So off I went to France.
"I arrived in September 1918, in time for the Battle of St. Mihiel, an important skirmish. The Allies won an important salient from the Germans. But there were heavy losses. All day, I was up to my knees in blood and gore. By noon, I no longer felt like a physician—I was an assembly-line worker, rushing to get one soldier sewed up so I could start in on the next."
Charles poured some coffee. "Around ten at night, I had enough. I had become used to the bombs and the planes. But I was tired of seeing so much suffering. I begged my supervisor to let me take a walk for a few minutes, get some fresh air.
"I walked for a bit when I heard a terrible keening, and the more awful sounds of someone crying from pain. I thought a soldier had been wounded, and no one had found him. So I decided to go see if I could offer some assistance. I found two young men—one appeared uninjured. He was cradling the other man."
Charles stared above Meghann. "I told him very gently to move away so I could help his friend. He told me, in French, that there was no way anyone could help him. I saw right away he was right. The young man had been gassed—he had those appalling mustard-colored blisters all over, and I saw that he was gasping for breath. It was a very painful way to die, Meghann. The gas ripped apart the mucous membrane and caused internal bleeding. This boy was like all the others I'd seen, panting and screaming for someone to let him die.
"The other man, he was weeping and told me I can't help him die—I can't. I completely misunderstood. I thought he meant he was powerless—which he was not. I should have guessed something odd was going on because he was holding the wounded man perfectly still—the pain from the gas was usually so terrible the soldiers had to be strapped down to their beds, nothing else could hold them."
Charles offered Meghann some coffee and a cigarette. She took it gladly; the habit was coming back.
"I took the Hippocratic oath, and I knew I should get help, bring the boy to the hospital. But I also knew that meant he would be kept alive for four agonizing weeks. So I did what I thought was right. I told the man I could help his friend if he'd let me. He moved away a bit, and I reached into my coat for some morphine injections I was supposed to give later on. I injected the boy, and he died minutes later.
"When he died, the other fellow grabbed me. He kissed me on the lips, thanking me for doing what he could not bring himself to do. He was quite handsome—with blond hair and green eyes a bit like yours. When he saw that I didn't object to the kiss, we started making love. For me, it was the classic reaction to seeing all that carnage—I needed to prove I was still alive. The man—I later found out his name was Paul—was still crying and thanking me for helping his lover. He was babbling about giving me a gift in return. I hardly paid attention. And then I felt two teeth rip into my neck."
Charles smiled at Meghann's wide eyes. He had a feeling it had as much to do with hearing about two men having relations as it did with hearing about him being bitten by a vampire. "Meghann, you know that in the moment of being bitten, there can be ecstasy, if the vampire wants you to feel it. I had never experienced such pleasure. But then Paul threw hi
mself off me. He begged my pardon profusely and said he didn't know what had come over him—to repay a good deed with a curse. Then he vanished before my eyes."
"What did you do?" Meghann asked.
"Why, I pulled myself up and walked back to the hospital. When I was there, I made up a tale about someone attacking me and stealing my needles. Then I completed my tour of duty and returned to the States."
"But what about—"
"Being bitten? You know what happens—the first reaction in the face of such madness is denial. I told myself that my own experiences that day had unnerved me and I imagined the whole encounter. Of course, there were the marks, but I managed to ignore them. I went back home, and tried to forget the strange young man."
"So what happened?"
"In December 1919, he came to my home in Chicago. He reintroduced himself to me, and told me the whole story. Then he asked me if I would like to become his eternal lover." Charles smiled gently. "Paul always did have a tendency toward hyperbole."
"And you said yes?" Meghann questioned.
Charles sighed. "At the time, I was very tired of my constrained, predictable life. My father was pressing me to marry because I was becoming an oddity—a handsome young doctor who never showed any interest in the many pretty, presentable, young women in society. Of course, Father knew what I was, but appearances meant the world to him. If I was a deviant, that was unimportant. What was important was no one catching on that I was a deviant. So I thought Paul was a godsend. I would join him in this strange but wonderful life he promised me.
"I doubt our life together was the hell I imagine yours has been with Lord Baldevar. Paul was very gentle about my transformation. He brought me bowls of blood until I was strong enough to find victims. For that is what people are… we rob them of their blood. But from the start, Paul taught me to guard against the blood lust. So I never was initiated to the kind of world you've seen. Indeed, it was five years before Paul even told me about people like Simon."
"Where is Paul now?"
Charles smiled—a bit sadly. "Paul and I were a mismatch. That was apparent after the thrill of a new lover wore off a bit and we attempted to talk to each other. But neither of us would admit it for fear of hurting the other. Finally, after ten years, we decided to go our separate ways. The split was quite amicable. But one thing terrified Paul—he had to tell Alcuin about transforming me. He had broken a very serious rule. He begged me to come with him when he stood before his master."
"Did Alcuin hurt him?" Meghann asked worriedly.
"Alcuin never hurts anyone," Charles told her gently. "I hope you learn soon that a master can be good for you—teach you and guide you, not terrorize you into blindly obeying his will. Paul was upset because he did not want to lose Alcuin's respect, because he knew how disappointed Alcuin would be. He was right. Alcuin reprimanded him for making a new vampire when the world can barely sustain those already in existence. He questioned Paul closely, and Paul discovered he was terrified of being alone. So Alcuin told him he must take twenty years in isolation to overcome this fear. As for me, Alcuin invited me to become his apprentice." Charles grinned and lit a new cigarette. "And that, Meghann, is my vampire history."
"Do you ever regret it?"
"Accepting Paul's offer? No, I really don't. I miss certain things of course—the sun above all. But I am a doctor, Meghann, and I have been blessed with something mortal doctors never have enough of—time. I hope one day, with my higher intelligence and unlimited time, to discover the cure to a deadly disease."
Meghann wrinkled her nose at him, and he laughed through the smoke. "You're quite right—what a pompous speech that was. Perhaps I should consider politics? What were you… before?"
Meghann was trying to relearn the art of blowing smoke rings. She managed one ragged one before answering Charles. "I was a college student about to be married. I wanted to be a psychoanalyst."
Charles's eyes lit up. "A colleague! And what do you miss most about mortality? I don't mean the weighty issues like family, friends, and the sun. I mean the little things. What do you most miss that you used to do as a human?"
Meghann thought about that. What would she most like to do again? "Baseball," she said after some consideration. "I'd give anything to pitch another game. But even more, I would love to be able to root for the Dodgers in July, with the sun beating down on my shoulders. Of course," she said with some bitterness, "I couldn't do that anyway since O'Malley had to move the team to L.A. Right now I don't have a favorite team to root for."
"Become a White Sox fan like me," Charles suggested happily. "Meghann, I knew we were going to be friends. Finally, a vampire who loves the game! Do you know I was at the 1918 Series?"
"You saw the Black Sox?" she asked in awe, referring to the infamous Series where the Chicago White Sox had eight team members blow the Series after being bribed by gamblers. "Did you know they threw the game?"
Charles frowned. "In retrospect, people like to say they could see the scam from a mile away. I don't think that's true. No, I didn't suspect. I was angry and disgusted with some of the players, but lots of fans were. We suspected them of being idiots, bunglers… not cheats." He inhaled and blew a few ostentatious rings at Meghann. "But I know how you feel. Do you know I missed Babe Ruth's entire career? I could kick myself for that. Oh, well, at least night games are gaining popularity."
"Or the 1955 World Series," Meghann mused. "To sit in the stands and see the Dodgers finally whip the Yankees. There's another thing to hate Simon for—taking baseball away from me."
Charles studied her gravely. "Tell me why he's given you reason to hate him."
Meghann poured another cup of coffee. "I guess you want my story now?"
"Take your time. I know it can't be easy. But please don't feel ashamed or embarrassed. I'm here to help, not admonish."
So Meghann told him about meeting Simon Baldevar at a friend's house, and what he later did to that friend. She laughed wryly when she told him that her first fear about Simon was that he would get her pregnant. She described that awful night when he made her drain Johnny Devlin.
"At first," Meghann said softly, head bent down, "I thought I loved him. He would give me anything I wanted. And I couldn't get enough of him in… well, I was very attracted to him. So a few years passed, and I was very happy. When Simon wants to, he makes me feel beautiful and adored. He can be so tender and loving. I can't tell you how many times he has brushed my hair, or held me close when I've awakened, screaming from a nightmare. To tell you the truth, my whole world revolved around him. I thought of him like a god. Every minute of the night, he was there. I was never lonely, and there was always something exciting to do. Or there were wonderful romantic nights together where he would hold me close all night and tell me stories. Not about himself… I know nothing of his history. But he would tell me about the Elizabethan court or life in France before the revolution and make me feel like I was there."
"Then why did you look so sad at that party?"
Meghann seemed absorbed in her coffee cup; she would not look up. "I'm scared of him," she said so quietly Charles almost didn't hear her.
He took her hand. "We're all scared of Simon Baldevar. Tell me what he did to make you frightened."
"He does bad things to me," she said in a child's voice.
Charles started rubbing her icy hands. "It might help to talk about it—get it off your chest."
When she started speaking, her eyes had a very distant look and her voice was barely above a whisper. "I told you of the good things. But sometimes, even when he's doing them… he hurts me. I never know what's going to provoke him. Usually, it's some foolish thing I say, or a certain tone. He gets this horrible look in his eyes. They just turn into hard, mean gold—like some rabid dog you just threw a rock at. And I… I hate myself for it, but that look makes me start begging him to forgive me. Sometimes I get on my knees. Usually that's all he wants. But other times… oh, God." She trembled and lit a cigarette.
"He grabs me. I learned early on not to fight him because that only makes it worse. So he grabs me and drinks my blood until I can't even stand. I don't know if you know this, but if vampires lose blood, it weakens their natural defenses. Your body doesn't heal the way it's supposed to. So when he starts beating me, those bruises stick until I feed again. And when I'm lying on the floor, covered in bruises and so drained that I'm dizzy, he… Charles, he…"
"OK," he said soothingly. "You don't have to say it. It's all right—I know what you mean."
"No!" She threw her head up, and he wanted to cry at her desolate eyes. "That's not the worst part. The worst part comes after. When he's done and I'm bleeding with the scent of him all over me. Then I have to tell him how sorry I am. I have to beg and plead for him to forgive me. One time, I didn't. I just lay there and refused to speak. So he got a torch from the beach. He was going to burn me… I didn't know if it would kill me or not. So I screamed. I screamed that I was sorry and I'd never be bad again. He let me scream and cry for mercy for six hours before forgiving me." Her eyes were glassy. "I never hesitated to apologize again."
Charles was looking at her with great pity. "It's not like that all the time. Usually, he loves me. The first few years, I could count the times he hurt me on one hand. But then—"
"After the party."
"Yes, after the party. Now not a month goes by that he doesn't beat me." Meghann looked at the floor. "I wasn't supposed to go out tonight—"
"Then it would be very dangerous for you to go back to his home."
"I thought of that," she replied. "I have some money… enough to get away."
"Meghann, money cannot help you. Simon is your master—he has an unbreakable link with you. There is nowhere in this world you can go that he will not find you. You need, particularly as a novice vampire, a protector."
Meghann looked at him steadily. "Are you offering me protection?"
Charles went to a trunk and pulled out a stiff piece of parchment. "Read this."
