by J. C. Diem
“What are you doing?” Luc asked, taking his eyes off the road every now and then to watch me.
“I don’t want to get ooze on the seats.” My stomach tried to lurch at the explanation but couldn’t quite manage it. Whatever I had in my veins, it wasn’t just blood anymore. I was pretty sure it was the thing that made us into what we were. ‘Evil’ is the word you’re looking for. Yeah, that felt about right.
Feeling my back a few minutes later, I determined that the wound had closed. My shirt and jumper were bloodstained and ruined so I threw them out the window. I didn’t want to wear them again, not even if I could get the ooze stain out of them.
Luc drove using his peripheral vision only and stared at me openly. Wearing my bra, I wasn’t quite half naked but felt embarrassed anyway. We might have had a quick bout of sex but I still barely knew him. “Has your flesh hunger risen yet?” he asked in feigned innocence as I sorted through my backpack.
“Keep your eyes on the road, Luc,” I ordered and pulled a t-shirt and jumper on. Still not warm enough, I turned on the heater. Compelled to ask, I turned to my companion. “What do you care about my flesh hunger anyway? You weren’t exactly thrilled when you had to do the naked mambo with me.”
Keeping his eyes strictly on the road, he was reluctant to answer. “I swore I would never lower myself to break in new vampires ever again,” he replied softly.
It was stupid really, but I was hurt that he thought so little of me. “Well,” I promised, “you’ll never have to lower yourself to sleep with me again.”
“It was not so bad.” Luc slid a sly glance at me and dropped his eyes to my chest briefly.
“Never. Again,” I said with cold finality. Screw him, I thought bitterly, I’ll find someone else to take out my flesh hunger on. I’d have sex with a disease ridden hobo before I’d get naked with ‘Lord Lucentio’ again.
“You are angry.” It was a statement, not a question.
“Am I?” I asked in faux amazement. “I can’t imagine why.” After a few seconds of strained silence, I couldn’t take it and exploded. “Do you know what it felt like to hear you say you had to lower yourself to have sex with me? It felt really, really shitty.” I subsided into dry sobs, covering my tearless face with my hands.
Waiting until I had sobbed myself out, Luc started speaking. “I was made over seven hundred years ago. My master chose me because of my physical beauty.” It was said as fact rather than with pride. “My only purpose was to serve as her sexual slave.” I was finally getting the explanation I’d been pestering him for and it was more disturbing than I’d ever imagined.
“She would...loan me out when other vampires required their servants to be broken in.” His expression was stony as he recounted his history. “For four hundred years, I was a whore for my maker. When she wasn’t using me, she watched as I was ravaged by the newly risen.” Just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse, it did. “Sometimes, she didn’t watch alone.”
I grasped the implication immediately. “You mean the whole Court would stand around watching while these women screwed you?”
“Yes.”
“Why did you put up with it?” I demanded.
“Because it was my master’s wish,” he replied simply.
I remembered something Silvius had said after I’d risen. He’d said we would be bound for all eternity. “Do servants have to do everything their masters tell them to?” The thought horrified me. He nodded in response. “How did you manage to stop her?”
“I didn’t. Only when my master was killed was I freed from her whims.”
“Who killed her?” I admit, the story was as fascinating as it was horrifying. It was even more gripping than the French bodice-ripper had been.
Luc hesitated then shrugged. “I do not know.” Something told me he was lying but I wasn’t going to push it. There was one thing I did want to know.
“So, after centuries of abstinence, I’m the one you broke your fast with.” He nodded again and now I was appalled. “I’m, uh, really sorry,” I said in a small voice.
“Why are you sorry, Natalie?”
“Because it was crap! I was a bad lay and a guy deserves better after three hundred years or so of a dry spell.”
“You weren’t a bad lay,” he said with a small smile.
“I broke your spine,” I reminded him.
“Out of sheer pleasure,” he reminded me in turn.
“Well, it isn’t going to happen again,” I reassured him unhappily. “You can go back to being abstinent again.”
“What makes you think I want to?” he asked pleasantly then turned the car onto a lumpy dirt road.
·~·
Chapter Fourteen
We drove for hours along increasingly eroded dirt roads. Occasionally, rustic stone farm houses with thatch roofs would suddenly appear out of the darkness. Eventually, we started climbing. The small rental car laboured to make the steep climb up what appeared to be a large mountain.
Narrowing into a single lane, the road ran alongside sheer cliffs most of the time. If another car came toward us, someone would be forced off the road to their deaths. My hand was on the doorhandle, ready to make a jump for freedom just in case another car did come along and we were the unlucky ones.
Driving with apparent unconcern, Luc had retreated into silence. He seemed to know the road well, anticipating corners almost before they happened. A deer bounded out in front of us and was gone before I could let out a startled yelp.
As the road finally levelled off, I had my first glimpse of the prophet’s domain. In a word, I’d describe it as spooky. An ancient, scarred castle sat crouched in a patch of cleared forest. Tall trees were slowly beginning to encroach back on the territory they had reluctantly given up centuries ago. Two of the four towers were broken, leaving jagged bricks and cracked mortar exposed to the sky. Two of the grey stone walls were covered in dank moss and dead vines. Windows gaped without glass. A gigantic pair of doors had long ago fallen due to rusted hinges. The empty entrance beckoned darkly like the open maw of a monster. I did not want to enter that decrepit, slowly dying building. Luc would have to drag me by the hair if he expected me to go inside.
Angling the car away from the castle, we drove around the side of a large wooden building. Once dark red, the paint had faded to dusky pink. It badly needed a new coat but was in much better repair than the castle. Large windows with white trim were boarded shut. Twin doors, large enough to drive a tractor through, were chained shut. Overall, the castle and surrounds didn’t exactly send out welcoming signals. The vibe I got from the place was ‘stay away’. I would have been only too happy to comply.
Luc drove the car out of sight of the road then parked. He climbed out calmly and I copied him with trepidation. I did not like this place at all. I wondered what humans would make of the castle. From the looks of it, it wasn’t exactly a thriving tourist attraction.
From the smell of petrol and oil nearby, I surmised that cars were kept inside the wooden building. Someone must use this place then. Did I want to meet them? Nope.
“Lord Lucentio,” a deep voice intoned from the shadows of the building, startling me badly. “It has been a long time since you have darkened our doorstep.” I couldn’t make out the creature’s face even with my heightened vision. Maybe making himself invisible was his vampirish talent.
“Vincent,” Luc said with cautious respect. He stepped forward and offered his hand. “I have come to see the Prophet.”
Vincent stepped forward out of the shadows to shake Luc’s hand briefly. I was glad I couldn’t gasp in revulsion anymore. He was close to seven feet tall and was as emaciated as a POW survivor. His cheeks were deep hollows and his black eyes were mournful. A dark brown robe covered him from head to toe. Only his face and hands were visible. The realization that he wasn’t really invisible and that his robe had merely hidden him from sight was a relief. Vampires had enough of an advantage over their prey without having that kind of power. My insp
ection of the hooded arrival ended at his hands. They were large and resembled albino spiders. Black fingernails about two inches long had been sharpened to wicked points. Silvius had been almost handsome compared to this guy.
“I am afraid the Prophet has lapsed into a coma again,” Vincent said in tones of regret that sounded false to me. Luc slanted a glance at me but I didn’t need the warning. He could also tell that Vincent didn’t really give a crap about the prophet’s wellbeing. Great, we were in another situation I could never really understand due to ancient vampire politics.
“When did this happen?” Luc asked.
“A week and a half ago,” was the reply. Luc and I exchanged a glance. That was right about the time I’d been turned. It was yet another portent of the doom my new birth had brought to vampirekind. Finally deigning to notice me, Vincent raised a hairless brow in faux surprise. “You have brought a guest?”
Luc motioned me forward and I reluctantly complied. “Vincent, this is Natalie.”
I stuck my hand out and tried not to cringe when his nails scraped the back of my hand unpleasantly. It even felt like a spider. A cold, hairless spider. “Nice to meet you,” not, “I really love what you’ve done with the place.” I nodded toward the broken towers of the castle that could just be seen rising above the wooden building. I hid my shudder but only just.
Vincent raised his non-existent eyebrows again and Luc gave a small shrug. “She’s Australian and new,” he said to explain my uncouth behaviour. Hey, I’ve been on my best behaviour so far. If they thought this was uncouth, they’d clearly never met a drunk Australian before. A typical tipsy Aussie could uncouth their pants off with one hand tied behind his back.
“Ah.” As if my nationality explained everything, and it probably did, Vincent swept his arm toward the door. “Please, enter. Dawn will soon be upon us. I shall show you to your rooms.”
Although every fibre of my being screamed at me not to follow the tall ghoul, I liked the idea of having a room to myself. Some space and time alone would be welcome. To my intense relief, our guide headed away from the castle.
Luc shot a look over his shoulder to make sure I hadn’t taken the opportunity to sprint off into the distance. My smile was meant to be reassuring but from his slight grimace it mustn’t have been very successful. I had already reconciled myself to the idea that I could run from these people but I probably couldn’t hide. My options were limited so trudge after them I would.
Vincent led the way to a small brick building in far better repair than either the castle or barn. A sign advertised that it was a public toilet and so did the smell. The place really was a tourist attraction then. We trooped inside the female toilet, which disturbed me greatly because I’d never seen a man in the girl’s loo before. I was just starting to become alarmed when Vincent bent and lifted the lid from a manhole set in the floor. A large padlock that must keep the manhole secure from intruders was already unlocked. It was a relief to see the tunnel. I’d had vague thoughts that the emaciated old creature might start tearing us limb from limb then flush the pieces down the toilet.
I crossed to the hole and peered inside. It was so deep that I couldn’t see the bottom. A narrow, rusty ladder was the only way down. I resisted the urge to kick a pebble into the shaft. The noise as it bounced its way down would echo upwards, giving away my juvenile impulse.
“Ladies first,” Luc invited. Faced with the idea of having Vincent following right behind me, possibly treading on my fingers, I took him up on his invitation. Shooting a fulminating look at Luc on general principal, I shouldered my backpack.
There was just enough room to fit inside the tunnel with the pack on my back. The ladder was even colder and clammier than I was. Grabbing the sides of the ladder tightly, I slid downwards. Wind rushed past me, blowing my hair back from my face. Spying light rapidly approaching beneath me, I tightened my grip and stopped my descent a couple of rungs from the ground. The speed of my controlled fall had been fun and my hands didn’t even hurt. If I’d still been human, my palms would be raw meat and I probably would have fallen to my death halfway down.
As I stepped off the ladder, I was instantly surrounded by a curious gaggle of vampires. “Ooh, a newcomer,” a female purred in a thick Romanian accent. Circling me, she was skeletally thin with straggly black hair, prominent teeth and a vulpine face. Jesus, Vincent must have been scraping the barrel when he turned this pig dog into a vampire.
“She’s pretty,” a boy about Geordie’s age sniggered and danced forward to yank my hair sharply. His hair was a shaggy brown mess and his eyes rolled wildly in a dirty face. I slapped his hand away in annoyance and wondered if he was mentally all there. Trapped beneath a mountain with someone like Vincent in charge, I wouldn’t have been.
“I wouldn’t mind a taste,” an older male vampire said. He’d been losing his hair when human so was doomed to be half bald forever. If that wasn’t bad enough, he also had an unfortunate squint and warts on his hands.
All of the vamps were dressed in home-made garments of coarse brown fabric. Clearly these were lowly minions far, far down on the chain of importance. Much like I would have been if Silvius had still been alive. With him dead I was my own master, even if I had to pretend to be Luc’s servant half the time.
Vincent suddenly appeared in their midst, startling all of us. “Be gone,” he roared and the servants fled with wails of fright. All moved with shocking speed, so fast my eyes could barely follow them. My God, how old are they? How long have they been down here? “I apologize for the poor reception, my dear,” Vincent said with a bow.
“Don’t worry about it,” I mumbled and was glad when Luc stepped up beside me. He hovered at my shoulder protectively. I nodded at his look of concern to indicate I was fine. I was anything but fine but I also didn’t want Vincent to know that I was quietly freaking out.
Studying our dynamic, Vincent’s eyes became crafty slits. It was impossible to guess what conclusions he had drawn from our interaction. I had zero interest in vampire politics and was only along for the ride but he didn’t know that.
“This way,” our guide invited with a toothy smile and glided off down the hallway. We were in a tunnel at least a couple of hundred feet below the ground. The rock had been hand carved thousands of years ago, long before the invention of machinery. Every now and then, a bare light bulb shed a weak pool of light. Our shadows loomed large then retreated behind us each time we passed beneath one.
Watching Vincent, I was strongly reminded of my first encounter with Silvius. My flesh began to creep unpleasantly as I compared the two men. Both had been old in mortal years as well as vampire years, both were bald and they exuded evil like humans exuded sweat. They also had one other thing in common; their shadows moved independently.
Vincent looked back over his shoulder and smiled at me winningly. I wasn’t going to be lulled into a false sense of security by an aged monster like this again. Not when his shadow was a large, humpbacked creature with a misshapen head and four inch claws that dragged on the ground. Checking Luc’s and my own shadows, I was relieved to see that they were normal. Seeing my own shadow suddenly acting independently would be the worst thing I could imagine right now.
A heavy metal door awaited us at the end of the hallway. It swung open with a suitably spooky metallic groan at a light push from our guide. Vincent fished a key-ring from a pocket of his robe and sorted through the collection. Dozens of keys in all shapes and sizes jingled and swayed on a short chain. I wondered how extensive the tunnels were beneath the mountain and saw the answer for myself when Vincent ushered us inside.
Opening up into a thirty foot wide space, the hallway continued onwards far into the distance. More hallways and doors branched off at regular intervals. I had the sense of a great weight hovering above us. As a human, I’d been slightly claustrophobic. As a vampire, I ignored the fear. I had far worse problems to worry about than the unlikelihood of the mountain suddenly imploding and burying me in tons of rubb
le.
Locking the door behind us, Vincent made the keys disappear. Taking one of the branches, he strode along it for a few minutes then entered yet another, smaller hallway. Luc hid his discomfort well but I was sure he enjoyed Vincent’s company about as much as I did.
We walked for a good five minutes before Vincent stopped at a rough wooden door. Producing his keys again, he granted us access then gestured to the rooms inside. “I shall see you both when you rise.” With a ghastly smile and a courtly bow, he was gone.
Luc waved me inside and I decided being forced to stay in a small suite with him was better than falling asleep in the hallway. Tiredness was setting in as I stepped inside. In a short time I would once again fall dead asleep. I searched frantically for a bed to collapse on.
We stood in a small living room, complete with couch, armchairs and a television. It resembled a cheap motel but had the difference of being far underground. Three doorways branched off to the left, right and back. Choosing the door to the right, I spotted a bed and dived onto it. I didn’t feel particularly safe beneath the mountain and needed some kind of insurance that I would wake up intact. One way to ensure that would be to go to sleep holding a weapon that would turn any other vampire into a messy stain on the ground.
I had just enough time to pull my cross out of the backpack and to clasp it tightly before my lights went out for the day.
·~·
Chapter Fifteen
Waking from a dreamless sleep once more, I stared at a cheap brown bedspread and couldn’t remember where I was for a minute. Then the memory of Vincent and his weird servants flooded back. Groaning, I closed my eyes and rolled over onto my back. I tried to rub my face with my right hand and something cold and metallic clunked me on the forehead. Opening my eyes, I found the delicately wrought centrepiece of the cross embedded in my palm again. “Great,” I muttered, “just what I need.” Seriously, why do these things keep happening to me? Nothing like this happened to any other vampires. Yeah, because none of them are the dreaded Mortis. Lucky bastards.
