Delarossa

by R M Taylor

  It was an efficient start-stop process. The small marks that were left after were akin to insect bites and were usually completely healed within 12 hours. It was unpleasant, he hated that part of being a vampire. No-one should be able to do that to another, it felt like a violation to him. But unfortunately, a necessity, despite the wrongness of it all. It was against vampire law to leave memories if the person wasn’t a donor, so at least the person was not aware afterwards. After meeting Sofia, who was a tiger shifter, he realised he wanted more from her than just blood, she was so unusual and had a really unique scent, not to mention the most beautiful blue eyes.

  Unfortunately, he was still a fledgling vampire at that time, so the very first time they were intimate, and he took her blood, things had ended badly. He had been devastated, and the loss and guilt still stung decades later. He had dreams of her every now and then. Mostly of her ashen white face as he buried her body, his control had slipped back then, and he had drained her of her blood. His mentor had warned him that sex with humans was always very risky, the intensity and intimacy lowered barriers that vampires consciously maintain to keep control while feeding. It took a lot of self-control to stop drinking blood, and usually took a good few years of practice with a mentor to develop the discipline. Aris had been a 3-year-old vampire then, having been turned at 28 years old. He simply lost control, halfway blacked out from the experience, he was so overwhelmed. Her blood literally fried his circuits, he woke up in a dizzy euphoric haze to find her blood drained, and she was white and limp in his arms.

  He thought he had enough control, was sure of it, he had been with dozens of vampires and had no problems. Their blood was potent, the older the vampire, the better more satisfying the experience. He had been fine with them, he drank from human donors all the time, the donors were paid well, and the feeding took place in a room when others were present, so it avoided being sensual experience. Human blood was like the tastiest dessert, deeply satisfying, delicious and fulfilling. Shifter blood was mind blowing, more like the best alcohol or drug one could have and depending on the type, the larger the shifter, the better the feeling and more potential for addiction. The concentration of Anandaine, a chemical in every shifter’s blood, was higher the larger the shifter. Anandaine was the shifter equivalent of the bliss molecule, THC, a neurotransmitter in humans.

  A heady dose of shifter blood could get a vampire high as well as could sate their hunger for days, easily. Human blood would last a day or so, then there was vampire blood, which was satisfying and sated the hunger but was more like a hearty meal, it left you feeling full, but it didn’t particularly excite you. That would last maybe a day, more if the vampire was older. You looked forward to your meal, it was tasty and filling, but it was just a meal, a necessity. Human or shifter blood was a treat. Aris could count on one hand how many times he had had shifter blood, usually wolf or lion. Celebrations in the vampire culture were always abundant in human or shifter blood, usually human, from a direct source of a willing donor. The donors were protected, cherished, and taken care of with careful consideration.

  Any vampire that killed a donor was punished severely by their coven leader. Recompense was paid to the donor’s family and if a cover story could not be used and any cases did go to the police were dealt with by wiping their minds. It was the only way to control the damage and it was messy, there was always the potential to miss someone. The family mind’s veiled to reflect a fictitious background story. It got complicated, so coven leaders kept a close eye on any vampire that had issues with control, such as new fledgling vampires. There were strict rules in place for a reason, vampire nature had to coexist with humans and shifters and so there had to be boundaries and punishments to keep order.

  Chapter 6

  Aris’ mentor Will Reid was a vampire aged 92 at the time who had mentored two other fledglings before him. Will was a brilliant mentor, patient and wise, he educated Aris and paid great attention to detail explaining their culture and their laws. Aris knew he should stay away from all humans, except the willing donors, even now. Now nearly 60, he had excellent control, but it was simply a bad idea, and left you open to all sorts of potentially risky situations. Inevitably there were vampires who fell in love with donors, and one of his best friends had turned her donor, with his consent, after they fell in love. Life was complicated, and never goes in straight lines, never easy to navigate.

  Aris loved humans and missed being human at times. One of his favourite hobbies was watching humans in his territory, people watching, as Will called it. Window shopping when you have no money to spend. Except it was more like simple curiosity for Aris, a bit like watching a soap opera. He just liked observing other people’s lives that were so different from his. He went for long walks, just watching people go by. One or two might catch his eye and he would observe them for a while. It never usually lasted more than a week or so, and he had never harmed any of them. Usually he became bored easily, few people were interesting enough to watch for long. He liked watching the city life from somewhere up high, watching the people and the hustle and bustle.

  He knew the woman down the road was having an affair with a much younger man, he knew that her teenage son was a nasty little shit who bullied the girls who live next to them on their way to school. Had overheard them talking about it on their way to some youth club. He knew the man down the road was a drug dealer, but he sold only to shifters and was generally a decent enough guy, despite the criminal aspect. The lady at the end of the street was pregnant and didn’t know who the father was, so she had arranged an abortion. Aris hoped she would change her mind, she was a nice woman and she didn’t really want to end the pregnancy, she was just scared. She would make a good mother, not that he would ever say anything to her, he was firmly in the watch don’t interfere category.

  The grandmother a street over was a powerful witch and had come out to speak to him one night when he was people watching. She knew he was harmless and not hunting humans, witches can sense these things. They had a good chat, she was training her granddaughter in her craft, but the granddaughter was insisting on getting a part time job while at college, so she worried they wouldn’t have time to properly train etc. So many lives and so many details. He always wondered if he should have become a psychologist or anthropologist, someone who studied people; he would be good at it. He was pretty much studying them, may as well analyse them too. Stalker behaviour aside, he was a good guy, and his walks about town helped keep him in touch with people. He was well connected, and actively maintained that, touching base with friends every now and then, showing his face.

  Mathis city was a small place for a vampire, walking or running for a hundred miles was not a hardship. Vampires were a hardy lot, and it took a lot to hurt one. Usually their healing was much accelerated and injuries short lived. It was very difficult to kill a vampire, you had to cause such injuries that they couldn’t regenerate. So, he was very safe when he went exploring, and most people he met were decent enough. Some were fascinating, he liked people with interesting backstories who were a little bit odd. They were usually more accepting than average folk. It was the “normal” ones that you had to watch out for.

  This woman though, she was striking and stood out, not just physically, there was something else. She wasn’t super model beautiful, she was more attainable than that. She had beautiful eyes and had a good aura. Not that he could see auras per se, but he believed that everyone had them. A bit like their own personal atmosphere that people could sense when they entered them. Everyone alive could attest to some person they met giving them a bad feeling or making them uneasy. It’s a sensory thing, instinctive, everyone can sense things to one level or another. He had a good feeling about her, she seemed unusual and he was drawn to her. Her scent alone drew him in, like when you walked past beautiful flowers that smell just as beautiful, you lean in and breathe in their scent.

  Deciding to get closer, he moved silently to the front garden. Vampires were extremely
quick and could move faster than the eye could see. She would never see him if he didn’t want her to. Her scent was stronger here, and he could hear her words clearly, as well as her friend’s through the phone. He heard her heartbeat, slow and steady. She was fit, he could tell, she must exercise regularly. He heard her breathing in between her sentences when she talked. Her laugh at her friend’s comments was lovely, as all of her seemed. He listened to the conversation she was having, about her ex whom she had just left that day. She described what happened and he could hear the sadness in her voice.

  Deciding to leave and heed his mentor’s advice, he took one last look at her, she must have become too hot as she had shucked off the blanket and lay there in her black lounge pants and strappy top, her lovely curves showing clearly. Her hair was swept up in a messy ponytail with soft curls poking out in places. She was engaging to look at, and he wondered what it would be like to touch her. His eyes followed the shape of her from top to bottom. She was gorgeous, and he knew what parts of her would be his favourite if he ever had the chance to touch her. His thoughts took an erotic turn as he imagined removing her clothes and seeing her naked form. His body reacted more than it had in a long time, and he needed to adjust himself as his cock woke up.

  Damn, he needed to get laid. He mentally chastised himself, he wasn’t a kid now, he had self-control damn it, it had just been a while. Conscious that deriding himself for a physical reaction was useless, he turned from the window to leave. Movement caught his eye as he turned, and he looked back quickly, surprised to see her walking quickly towards the window. He moved instantly into the shadows, so she wouldn’t see him. He needed to leave, he didn’t usually get up close to humans, he usually watched from a distance and amused himself following them occasionally. Most humans were dull, and his attention moved on quickly. This woman was different, she scented of shifter but he couldn’t tell what kind. He should go but felt pulled to stay, his feet seemed to have their own mind and they had decided to stay right there. He wanted to see more of her, hear her talk and see her move. Talk to her and hear her story, tell her his, get to know her. This felt risky, and he made himself leave before he knocked on her door.

  Chapter 7

  Lucy’s inner radar was sounding quietly. As she sat on the sofa talking, she could feel eyes watching her. She had always had the ability to tell when she was being watched. All beings did to one extent or another, but she could feel which direction it was coming from. This watcher felt like they were looking from across the street. Straining to pinpoint the location, much like someone does to try and hear a quiet sound better, she felt the watcher get closer. Playing down the feeling to begin with, she concentrated on the conversation she was having with Althea. After a few minutes the nagging of her radar was becoming insistent. She said goodbye to Althea with promises to meet the next day and moved to the window.

  The street outside was dark except for the pale street lighting, but she was sure she could see a figure in the shadows to the left. Her enhanced vision allowed her to see contrast much better than humans or other shifters, and she could detect a presence there. Casting her mind open, she reached out to see if she could pick anything up from the person there but without a visual or auditory input she had no luck sensing anything, despite her detector abilities. She closed the blind and decided to go upstairs to try and see if there was a person out there. Making out she was going to bed by turning the lights off, she grabbed her case and took the stairs silently two at a time. She went to the master bedroom overlooking the street and stared through the voiles outside, at first, she couldn’t make anything out but then suddenly, across the street leaves flew up from the ground as though blown by a gust of wind, but there was none this evening, it was completely calm.

  She stayed and watched for a long time but there was no other movement. Her heart rate lowered as she calmed, and she eventually relaxed. Writing it off as first night jitters, she closed the thick curtains and dug about in her case for pjs. Her eyes felt dry and tired, the travelling and stress of the last few weeks had finally caught up with her. She went about her bedtime routine, brushing her teeth half-heartedly and removing her makeup. Changing into pjs, she fell into bed and wrapped herself up in the duvet. Sleep dragged her under quickly, emotional and physical fatigue overcoming her almost immediately.

  Her dreams were many and vivid, overwhelming her as soon as she was unconscious. For hours she slept deeply, going from dream to dream, some with no substance, just sensation and feelings. One contained Connor, pulling a blonde woman in for a kiss, his arms snaking around her back as he did. She could feel the love in the moment, she could also feel deception and guilt too. In another of them she saw a dark-haired slim woman being buried, her face white and pale dull eyes open looking up to the stars. A dark-haired man was covering her with dirt and crying, his tears dropping onto her body as he shovelled the soil over her. She felt his despair and grief, the regret and self-hatred. She saw him in times afterwards, years flying by in moments, like pictures in an album.

  He visited her grave many times, each year on the anniversary of her death. The guilt and sadness still lingered years later. Further images appeared, blood and death, violence and sex. Red hot pain slashed, she was pulled in and hunger then gripped her, raging hunger that clawed in her belly and made her nauseous. Weak and starving, she saw herself biting a woman’s neck, drinking deeply, the clawing in her belly replaced by heat expanding in her stomach, the hunger dissipating. Satisfaction and euphoria in one, the dizziness and nausea fading as nourishment began diffusing through her body. She saw her dream self-finish feeding, and then walking to a bathroom, turning a light on and a face looking back from a mirror.

  It wasn’t her image she saw, it was a man’s handsome face, a man with sad brown eyes and with deep brown loose curly hair that grew to just before shoulder length, the top layer pulled back into a tie at the back of his head, and the lower layer sat behind his ears, ending at the juncture between his neck and shoulders. Good grief he was yummy. She could see the contours of his face, the shape of his short beard looking lost in the whiskers, looking like he had missed shaving that day. He wore black jeans, he sported tattoos across his bare shoulders and down his arms. One curved over his left pec and joined the shoulder tattoo, something tribal looking. Looking back at his face, his lips were still red from the blood he drank. He licked his lips and when he did she saw his fangs, with a shock she realised he was a vampire and she was surprised by a sudden jolt of arousal that streaked straight to her groin. Heat flooded her face and pooled low in her centre, she wanted him badly. Wanted his mouth on her, drinking her blood. Her dream self was jealous that he had fed from another. He was gorgeous, like he was created from her own personal fantasies. Her idea of the perfect guy, a bit rough with tattoos across the tops of his arms, with broad shoulders and muscles she could happily bite. Images of them together flashed quickly, and she imagined feeling the weight of his body on hers and breathing in his delicious scent.

  She woke suddenly with tears on her face and her heart racing. The heat concentrated in her centre receded slowly as her arousal faded quickly. Sufficiently alarmed, she sat up and breathed for a few seconds, allowing her heart rate to return to normal. She checked her phone for the time and realised she had slept 11 hours. She was meant to be meeting Althea in an hour. The dream had gotten well under her skin, and still clung to her unconscious as she got up. After a shower where she relieved herself of the built-up arousal, she dressed quickly, feeling embarrassed that a dream should prompt her to masturbate like that. It was disturbing, and erotic all at once.

  She had experienced intense dreams like that before, some foretold future events. Usually moments that were regular everyday things, like dreaming of shopping and seeing a woman in front of the queue, then actually seeing the woman in real life, and experiencing a deep sense of Deja vu at the time. It was cool when she thought about it, if only she could see something more important than random people in
a queue then she could class this as another gift. As it stood it was just an interesting thing that happened every now and then. She had many boring dreams, which were easy to disregard. Random coincidences and precognition that allowed her to foresee things like her car breaking down, and then days later, it doing so. Sort of handy, but intangible.

  This dream seemed too real, too intense and erotic. Not to mention seriously disturbing, she had almost orgasmed in a dream about a vampire, granted he was worthy of throwing your underwear at, but given the fact that the dream showed him burying a woman and very obviously grieving what he had done, she was pretty sure that gorgeous hot totty was also a murderer. Talk about liking a bad boy.

  Chapter 8

  After the quickest shower ever, dressing, and slapping on some eye makeup, she brushed her teeth quickly and left the house to flag down a taxi. The cool air was just the refreshing wake up she needed, and coffee was next on the menu. She was meant to be meeting Althea right at that moment, so she sent a quick message apologising and saying she was on the way. Althea knew what she was like, half the time she was late, and the other half of the time Althea was late. It got to the point where they would guess which one was going to be late next, placing silly bets to see who would win. She was grateful for Althea, she was the only person in the world she was really close to.