Sarah made the most beguiling decoy and played her part with enthusiasm, she knew when to pout, when to play, and when to kill.
“What are you doing outside your cabin?” one of the men growled, pulling a short wide blade, its sharp tip wedged to her throat.
Her fingers crept along his filthy hand, knocking the blade away. “I've come to see what there is to be had,” she replied as another joined the first. Her eyes offered pleasure, her body beckoned, but her beast promised death.
They leered insane grins as she lured them to the darkness, her crooked finger led the way. Sometimes we killed them outright, swiftly snapping their necks. And at other times, we let our beasts out to play, draining them dry and emptying their pale bodies onto the ocean's glassy surface. They appeared like broken toys floating in the murky water, their unseeing eyes gazing into the forever darkness of the night.
It was feasting as we had never feasted before, we fed without guilt. We were replenished completely, our needs well sated. By the end of the evening, all thirty men had been disposed of, our consciences clear. Only the pirate captain remained and we decided to leave him for our crew. We made our way back to our suite of cabins, where Brown waited, sleeping soundly.
“Brown, wake up.” Vanic shook his shoulder, rousing the man. “Come now, Brown, we have a mission for you. Wake up.”
The man stretched and opened his bleary eyes. “Sorry, sirs, m'lady, must have dozed off, won't happen again,” he said stifling a yawn.
“Not to worry, Brown, and soon you can sleep again. But now, you must retrieve the keys from the Captain's cabin to release him and the crew.” Brown stared with disbelief, eyes at first bulging, but then relaxing as Vanic's black stared bore into his, the suggestion became a promise to fulfill.
“Are you sure, sir?” Brown questioned, panic hid deep in his eyes.
Capturing his attention a second time, he peered into the depths of the man's dark gaze. “Yes, Brown, it's safe now.” Vanic patted Brown's shoulder. “All you have to do is tell the captain the other ship appears to be empty, its crew scattered about the ocean.” Vanic scowled, his black gaze penetrating deeper. “Something deadly hunted in its watery depths.” The suggestion became a compulsion.
*****
Upon the crew's search of the pirate ship, only the captain remained unharmed. Their justice was swift. He was forced, bound and gagged into the ocean to join his companions and where death would take him, hopefully before the sharks did. A feeding frenzy churned the dark sea.
Much to his surprise, Brown became the hero of the cruise and The Britania immediately set sail, swiftly leaving the pirate vessel behind. What bodies weren't savaged by the sharks, would be absorb in the next storm that happened through the Atlantic.
In record time, we made port, arriving three days early. Upon our return, the papers all reported the incident, warning piracy could still be found on the high seas. It was quite a sensation, with the captain claiming Mr. Herbert Brown to have saved us all. Brown received a maritime award of one thousand pounds sterling for rescuing The Britania, saving his fellow passengers and the crew. He was released from our service and vowed to never sail again.
*****
It would be our last cruise as well, though we'd faired nicely on our travels, proving the hunger could be sustained, but pirates couldn't be found every day. We arrived as dusk bloomed, releasing us from the day's embrace. I held my face to the warm breeze, wild scents tickled my senses, this new land brought another kind of excitement, a bold and spicy taste of life.
It was also one of mysticism and superstition. As I surveyed the far reaches of our existence, an old shaman confronted me. She immediately drew away, back pedaling as I approached. “Go home, away from my people! Diablo... Devil!” she cursed. “The devil has come to our land!” She raised her fist into the air. “Do you hear me? The devil has come to steal our children! Be gone!” She spat upon the hard ground.
The dusk gave away to the full blown night, the breeze turned into a wind strong enough to shake the branches, rifling through the growing shadows. Whispers poured into the air, the sounds of the brush, lightless and foreboding.
We took refuge in a small inn, but I turned to Vanic. “We cannot stay here.” He stepped closer with Sarah at his side. Together, we peered into the night.
We watched as the old woman crept toward the inn, lifted her nose to the air, inhaling the soft scent that lingered. “Devils be cursed!” she swore, and on the next evening, more joined the old shaman. We kept vigil from the safety of the surrounding forest as they set the old inn ablaze. The gentle night filled with the haze of smoke, death, and destruction. We turned to America, our true destination, the whole time.
Chapter Eight
America, the land of the free and home of the brave or so the song goes. Intangible streets lined in golden squares turned to the dusty plains of Texas with muted desert tones of gold, brown, and blue. This was where our travels led us. The vampire is an adaptable creature. We assimilated readily to become one of our neighbors.
Vanic, Sarah, and I sought out the places where the night was celebrated. New Orleans glistened like a beckoning star. We immersed ourselves in the diversity of the American lifestyle, with their love of freedom and country. We lusted for humanity, sharing in its openness and optimism as well as its life sustaining fluids. But not all experiences were of the grand nature. There were different levels of freedom, depending on your color, your sex, how you worshipped, or with whom you shared your bed.
To the vampire, it all became tedious. I discovered long ago, open veins all bled the same crimson color, created equal no matter the container. There is no discrimination for the vampire.
It was 1962 and we settled in Kansas as we waited for word from the Hierarchy, their stodgy responses came quickly or could take decades. The Council wasn't known for its consideration of others.
With renewed fascination, I delved deeper into this American existence. They had their own set of superstitions, traditions, and myths. The European gypsies were oddly secretive with knowledge of magic and dark arts, but the Americans had them beat. What they didn't understand became the mystical. Sometimes it became something to fear and at others, the butt of jokes. Most Americans were bold, frantic to experience everything, to live life fast and hard. Once again, I began to adapt, the perfect predator always adapts.
*****
I thrived in the night life. People of all kinds gladly welcomed the vampire into their lives. On an autumn's evening I fell in with a happy group at a popular club, when one of the women suggested we visit the local psychic. She wanted a séance to make contact with the 'other side'. Psychics were a new breed of human for me, some pretending to be what they could not, but others genuinely gifted in the magic of the mind.
When we arrived at the psychic's residence, a small sign graced the entrance giving the name of Madam Serena, Séances Held, Fortunes Told. And I was, for the first time in my long undead existence, unable to cross the threshold. It warded with old magic, the kind I'd never experienced before. Standing within our group, as others started to enter, the invisible shield presented itself to me, holding me back. Someone powerful had once lived here.
Gazing up at the lady holding open the door, a sunny halo greeted my surprised stare.
My eyes squinted and I swallowed. “I hope we've come at a good time?”
“Of course, come in, make yourselves at home.” She opened her door wider and stepped back. We filed into her home Her invitation had negated the power of the shields.
Looking around as we entered her home, I tried to touch our hostess's mind, but it was as tightly closed as the entrance to her home had been. Curiouser and curiouser, this woman was proving to be. Feeling her eyes upon me, I smiled into their depths. She shivered and my eyes widened. Had she felt my intrusions?
One of the young women named Melody had recently lost her father. We paid our money, gathered around a wide circle table with hands held. The
only light was a few white candles. Madam Serena whispered to her spirits and we waited, the air shifted around us. A gentle wind rustled through the room, wavering the candles flames, it was oddly cold even to my chilled flesh.
“The spirit guides have joined us,” she whispered. “Mr. Evans.” She spoke to the emptiness. “If you are with us, show yourself. Your daughter Melody is here. Let her know you, share in your spirit's journey. Reassure her with your presence, she still needs you guidance,” she called in her soft voice.
“Daddy?” Melody twisted around. “Daddy, are you here?” A breeze lifted Melody's hair away from her face. “Daddy, you are here! I've missed you.” Tears tunneled down her guileless face.
But I was a skeptic and my doubts must have shown of my face. When a gust of wind lifts one's hair, wavers a few bright flames, does it mean a spirit is crossing your path? Doubtful, but I kept my opinions to myself, no need to ruin the young woman's night. There was a flurry of activity as the others gasped, grabbing each other's hands more fervently, and soft whispers filled the room.
“Shhhhhh...” Madam Serena hushed the room. “Melody is there anything you wish of your father before the spirits leave us? Speak it now while he's here beside you, but hurry, spirits never linger long.”
Melody, with more tears streaming down her cheeks, nodded her pretty head. “Daddy, I didn't get to say goodbye ... I just want you to know… I love you and I miss you.” She cried harder. “I wish you were still here.” Then she gasped. “I can feel his fingers brushing through my hair!”
Madam Serena tipped her head to the side and closed her eyes, as if listening to something none of us could hear. She opened them to look over at Melody. “Your father wants you to know he loves you too, and wishes he hadn't left you. He knows you'll be fine though, because you're strong.”
Next Madam Serena bowed her head. “The spirits are leaving us.” But her gaze drifted in my direction. “Are you sure there's no one you wish to speak with? You seemed to have questions, doubts?”
Smirking, I shook my head, happy to keep my thoughts with myself as well as any of my dearly departed. “Not right now, Madam, but I might take you up on the offer another time.”
Madame Serena nodded and whispered to her spirits, thanking them for their visit. She gazed up at our group, who, all but one, held their breath. “The spirits have left us.” Then she stood and led us from the table and into the next room. With a flick of her wrist, the candles extinguished, and burned with light in the next room. We sat on big cushions thrown randomly around the room. I leaned on my elbow into the cushion's plushness, and I had to wonder what would come next from our would-be psychic? The mystic who had somehow wandered in amongst us. She would be considered a gypsy in another place, a witch in another time.
Then one by one, she stared into our palms, reading life stories, again there was laughter at the silliness. We gaffed and made fun of each other as the evening grew longer.
When she requested my right hand, I placed it in hers, and she put her hand over mine. “Ah, the nonbeliever. What's your name?” She grinned, her eyes brimmed with amusement. She rubbed my chilled flesh between her hands.
“May I call you Serena?” I smiled with my own delight.
“You may.” She bobbed her head.
“I'm Vlad, Vlad Tepes.” I shook her hand, fingers long and shapely, her delicate fragrance of sunshine twitched at my nose.
Instead of releasing mine, she turned my palm up to face her, gazing long and hard. “My, what a long lifeline you have.” The tip of her index finger grazed my palm, scraping it with her fingernail, and I found it to be the most erotic of touches. With the light rake of the tip of her finger, chill flesh burst along my arm. Her brunette locks fell forward as she dipped her head lower to gaze deeper into my life, her hair gliding over my already sensitive flesh.
“See, it starts here,” her fingernail scratched the mound of flesh surrounding my thumb, and I caught my breath, “and doesn't end. Instead it meets your wrist and continues just a little. Wow, I've never seen anything like this.” Her finger traced the crease of my thumb, rubbed the pulse point of my wrist where the end of my lifeline rested. I closed my eyes, my beast rubbed against my flesh, excitement touched my inner core.
“You're very lucky.” She beamed, showing twin dimples, her oceanic blue eyes shining. Her smile tugged at things in my body, things a simple touch should not have affected.
“What else can the great and powerful Serena tell me?” I enquired as my heart found a new reason to hammer my ribs.
“Your heart line, the depth of your ability to love, is deep and wide.” She placed her fingertip at the edge of my palm and followed its length as it wrapped around my little finger. “See how deeply the crease goes.” Her full red lips lifted and my eyes refused to leave them. “My, you must be a great lover.” She chuckled. “Your heart is waiting for your one true love.” When our gazes met, she pinked a little. “Although, intimacy finds you often, love rarely comes to you.” Her eyes held a sadness at her words.
I drew my hand away, I'd learned enough, but Madam Serena tugged it back, her fingers brushing over my cool flesh. “I'm only showing you what your palm is willing to reveal. And besides, this is all for fun now, isn't it?” She lifted her eyebrows, wrinkling her forehead. It was a simple question, one without an easy answer and I decided to play along. Serena was merely human after all, she couldn't know my real secrets, could she?
“You're very intuitive, Madam Serena, please tell me more.” My beast was suddenly wide awake, purring with desire.
She ignored my words, her eyes focusing deep into my life and she let her finger follow another line that traveled the length of my hand. “Here is your fate line, the line of your destiny.” The tip of her sculpted index fingernail rested beneath my middle finger and traced the line which curved slightly, before meeting my life line and continuing up my wrist. “Your fate was decided long ago, your soul is old, searching for a home.” She frowned as she glanced up into my eyes, not understanding. Then her shoulders lifted in a delicate shrug, and I found myself drunk on her words, so close to the truth of my life.
“This line shows the destiny of your life.” She abraded the small of my palm. “This little curve... See how it doesn't flow straight and true?” She showed me my palm and I dutifully gazed at the flesh. “This means for a time, someone or something else controlled your life.” She stared into my eyes as I peered back through the foggy safety of my sunglasses, before I followed her eyes back down to my palm. “But it straightens itself out again. You regained control of your destiny.” She followed it to the pulse point on my wrist causing it to throb with life. “It flows into your lifeline, meaning you're strong and prosperous.”
She flipped my hand over, skimmed her fingers over the skin, causing the top of my hand to tingle with pleasure. “Mmmm, smooth on this side, but calluses show on the other, at one time you worked with your hands, a laborer, but you've gained refinement, and education. You're quite a puzzle, and so old, such knowledge here,” she said flexing my fingers back. “And you're very adaptable. You've had to adjust to your surroundings to find your true course.” She glanced up, her fragrant hair slid over the flesh on my arm, goose bumps bursting anew.
Finally, she released my hand. “You know, it's just for fun. It doesn't have to mean anything.” But she had seen into my life, knew the direction I had chosen, and would continue to follow. My beast rolled just a little, tonight it wanted to taste her, hold her, mate her. And I wanted to let it.
As the others trooped from the psychic's residence, I pulled her aside and whispered in her ear, “Would it be all right to call you later?” She was a beautiful woman, maybe five years older than my appearance.
“I'd love to learn more about you.” Her eyes showed her curiosity. “Maybe we can talk some more about your life.” She brushed her lips across my cheek, and with a slight turn, I feathered my lips against hers instead. Heat flowed through my body as I left
with the others. I wanted to spend a little of my time getting to know this woman with the extraordinary senses bathed in the scent of sunshine.
Chapter Nine
Maybe it was the times, but I was fascinated by the freedom. The lack of inhibitions, the easy way the young seemed to have with each other, an unexpected openness. Serena was something different and I wanted to discover her too.
As the night deepened to past the midnight hour, everyone started to go their separate ways, and I returned to the home of Madam Serena, drawn by unseen forces to the woman who reminded me of the sun. I stopped before her home and wondered if I should knock. Should I retreat to the safety of our sun protected rooms? As I stood there, Serena flung the door wide open and stared at me. I hadn't sensed she was at the door. Her thoughts remained closed, her shields too strong, and I couldn't tell if this was on purpose or unintentional. She was a blank slate.
“Well, are you coming in or not?” she questioned, her sharp blue eyes danced with amusement. Hearing the laughter in her voice loosened my vocal cords.
“May as well, I've come all the way back.” My hooded eyes scanned hers. I allowed her to lead me.
“Can I get you anything? I have a semi-nice wine?” We went further into her home. Reaching out, I caught her hand, bringing her to a halt.
“What? Is there something wrong?” she asked with curiosity.
“How did you do what you did? How do you know me so well?” Pulling her back to me, I gazed into her eyes, but she appeared artless, without deception. I wanted to know this woman, understand her gift, reason my way either away from her unique sight, or into her liberating presence. She freed a part of me I hadn't known existed anymore, the ability to wonder.
Vlad Tepes, the Vigilante Vampire Page 5
