The Vampire's Pet: Part One: Prince of the City

by S. E. Lund

  I sat in silence for a moment, doing a mental calculation. “You’re over a thousand years old?”

  “A little more than that, but close enough.” He nodded, his eyes half-hooded as if assessing my response. I sat in shock for a moment, scarcely able to believe he was that old.

  “So you don’t age at all after you’re turned?”

  He shook his head and pushed the remaining food around on his plate with his fork. “Look, none of this is necessary. I’ll be gone tomorrow and I’ll compel you to forget you ever met me. I’ll compel Chelsea to forget she ever met me. The two of you will go on with your pretty little mortal lives completely unaware.

  I frowned. As much as I didn’t like the idea that vampires existed or that they could compel us to obey, I didn’t want to forget. I didn’t want to forget him, despite everything.

  Nothing exciting had ever happened to me. Nothing.

  Meeting Kier and learning there were vampires was the most exciting and scary thing that ever happened to me or would likely ever happen.

  “I don’t want to forget.”

  He glanced at me and made a face of regret. “Sadly, that’s not possible. You must forget for your own good. For my own good.”

  “How is that? If I can’t talk about you or vampires, what harm is there?”

  He shrugged. “Think of it. If you remembered everything, you’d always be looking behind your back, worried that a vampire would be lurking about. You’d always wonder where I was and maybe, if you were foolish enough, you’d try to find me. That would get you in immense trouble. No, sweet Calla,” he said and put his folded paper towel on the table. “The best thing all around is for me to compel you to forget.”

  I sat and fumed for a few moments. “If you’re going to make me forget, tell me everything.”

  He studied me, his blue eyes intense. He chewed his bottom lip as he considered. Finally, he exhaled.

  “All right. Why not? I haven’t spoken to anyone since I escaped captivity. Here,” he said and pushed back from the table. “Let’s take a walk along the beach.”

  “This late? It’s almost midnight.”

  “Midnight is my time, Calla. I live in the night. It’s all I have.” He held out his hand and as usual, I took it, becoming used to his chivalrous ways. “Come,” he said and opened the door. “I love the roar of the surf in the darkness. You can feel the ocean’s power.”

  I made a face of doubt. “It scares me.”

  “The ocean scares you? Why? It’s just water.”

  “After the tsunami…”

  “Tsunami?” he said, frowning. “There was a tsunami here?”

  “No, in Japan and before that in the Indian Ocean. Over a quarter million people died. Ever since the tsunamis, I feel nervous around the ocean. Especially at night.”

  “Oh, dear,” he said and we walked out of the house and down the path to the trail leading to the beach. “You have so much modern history to catch me up. It’ll be a long walk.”

  Kier

  Because my eyes were as good in the dark as hers were in the light, she held on tightly to my arm as we walked along.

  “Can you see in the dark?” she asked, her voice soft and tinged with fear.

  “Yes. Very well. As well as the day, but don’t ask me to explain why. I’ve become a creature of the night. I see you beside me clearly.” I turned to her. “Your eyes are wide, your face is pale from anxiety. Relax,” I said and patted her hand. “I won’t let you fall into a hole or step on a dead jellyfish.”

  While we walked, Calla told me about the major events of the past century that I was imprisoned – great wars, earthquakes and tsunamis, and the developments in technology that I still found confusing.

  “Tell me about your life before you were turned," she asked after she'd relaxed enough to enjoy our walk. "Tell me about your family,” she suggested when we came to a large log. “You’re British, I know that much. What part are you from?”

  We sat on a huge log and I thought about how to explain about my family. How does one tell a mortal about being immortal? Things changed as soon as eternity stretched in front of you instead of imminent and inevitable death. Until you experienced it, there was really no way to understand.

  “I have to go a long way back to remember my life before,” I said, casting my memory back to the start. “The Vikings invaded Scotland during the eight-century, and established colonies along the coast. One of the raiders raped the daughter of a powerful chieftain they had killed and kept her as a slave.” I turned to look at her. “She gave birth to my mother, who had very dark hair and fair skin like a Scot but the blue eyes of a Viking. She married my father, Kenneth, who was a Chieftain in Caledonia.”

  “So your grandfather was a Viking?”

  I nodded. “Harald of the Uplands, son of Thorir. You know the history of Scotland? Invasion by one group after another. The original inhabitants were called Pictii by the Romans, because they wore paint and had tattoos. Fierce warriors who fought almost naked so they were more agile. The Scots came from the coast of Ireland and invaded, intermarrying and claiming the lands. My father descended from those warriors. Scotii means ‘invader.’ So we had the Irish invading and the Vikings invading. The Picts fought them all. I’m a mix of all three.”

  “How did your father marry your mother? Wasn’t she a slave?”

  “He bought her freedom, knowing who her grandfather was. He was smart, as his children were able to claim two titles as a result.”

  “There were wars when you were a child?”

  I shrugged. “No, not wars like have happened in recent memory. They were more like local skirmishes over territory. Nothing that hadn’t been happening for centuries before or after. Men always fight over territory. Over riches.” I turned to her. “Over beautiful women.”

  I smiled at the flush that spread over her cheeks.

  She was young and still uncertain of her beauty. It was an attractive feature in her – modesty. Many beautiful women I had known over the centuries were very aware of their attractiveness to men. Not Calla. She was very unaware.

  She turned away and watched the clouds move away from the rising moon.

  “Your family?” she asked.

  “My parents had eight children before my father was turned when I was twelve. Once you’re a vampire, it’s a dead end when it comes to progeny.”

  “You never had children? You can’t reproduce?”

  “I did, once. A very long time ago before my father turned me. And no, I can’t anymore. Vampires are sterile.” I said nothing for a moment. “But not impotent.” I glanced at her, noting the way her cheeks flushed red.

  So she wasn't entirely innocent of the ways of love.

  “Are they alive? I mean, did you turn your family like your father turned you?”

  I shook my head and a surge of regret filled me. “They all died before I could turn them. A plague struck when my sons were children. We were hoping for more and so my father hadn’t turned either my wife or me. You don’t turn babies or children under puberty so I lost them all.” I said nothing for a moment, my memories of their loss so vivid it stopped me from speaking.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, her voice soft.

  I glanced at her, and saw she truly felt bad for me. She was a sweet young woman. There was no artifice in her – no guile.

  “It was so long ago," I said, "but no matter how many years pass, I can’t forget as much as I wish I could. I felt so guilty for I was away with my father inspecting our lands when the plague struck and it was too late to do anything when we returned. He wanted to turn me right away to protect me from it but I was completely broken by their deaths and wanted nothing more than to die myself. When I became ill soon after, he turned me to prevent me from dying as well. Now?” I said and glanced around before meeting her eyes. “My only children are those I turn.”

  “How many have you turned?” she asked, frowning. I could see disapproval in her eyes and hear it in the to
ne of her voice.

  “Not many,” I replied. “You have to think very carefully before turning a human. Condemning them to an eternal life of bloodlust is no small thing.”

  It was the mention of bloodlust that seemed to wake her back up, make her nervous again and she slowly drew her hand away from mine.

  “No, don’t, please,” I said and pulled her hand back, squeezing it between mine. “I know it must disgust you to think how old I am, but you make me warm. It’s a blessed relief after all those years in the dungeon.”

  As if she felt sorry for me, she let me continue to hold her hand in mine.

  “Whoever did that to you is a monster,” she said, her voice filled with emotion. “Do you know who it was?”

  “A rival family, I’d wager. One who wanted to punish my father by taking me away. I was his right hand when he decided to sleep.”

  “Vampires sleep?”

  “We can put ourselves in a trance-like state, entering into a condition of near-desiccation.”

  “Why would you do that?”

  “We often retreat from existence when it gets too hard. I can sleep for a month if I want after a big feed, but longer than that without blood and I start to desiccate. If I’m active, I need to feed daily.”

  “So, tell me about your father. How did he become a vampire?”

  I took in a deep breath. “The Vikings who invaded our lands brought a vampire along on the journey, unbeknownst to them. He turned my father in return for a safe haven in his lands. MacLaughlans is not our real surname. We took it on when it became opportune, and gained a title and lands. We’ve had several names, from several lands, but our origin is Norse and Scots.”

  “So you’re…” she said, and I could see her do the math.

  “I’m old,” I said, not really wanting to admit just how old I was.

  “You don’t look any older than when you were turned.”

  I shook my head. “That’s our blessing. Immortality. For me, it’s eternal youth. For my father, he’s eternally a middle-aged man with a touch of grey at his temples. My grandfather is eternally old, grey and bent. Distinguished. No matter how long I live, I’ll always be viewed as a boy.”

  “But you’re not. You’ve lived so long. Seen and done so many things.”

  “I have,” I said and sat up, straightening my jacket. “Now, enough of me. Tell me more about Calla. What are you planning to do once you finish school?”

  “I want to be a scientist,” she replied, her voice hesitant. “An engineer.”

  “An engineer. Who would think a pretty young thing as you would want to do such masculine work?”

  She shook my head. “You have a lot to learn about the modern world. Women and men are equal today. Well, at least, in the law.”

  “You’re a suffragette?”

  She smiled. “They won. Women have the vote.”

  I raised my eyebrows at that. “You won the vote? Well,” I said, rubbing my chin. “That’s something to consider. This world—your world—is so new to me. I can see it will take some time to acclimate myself to it.”

  She yawned, hiding it behind a hand.

  I frowned, disappointed that she was leaving so soon. “Oh, don’t go to bed so soon. We’ve just started talking about things and I’ve been alone for so long…”

  She met my eyes for a moment like she was considering. “Maybe just a while longer.”

  She stayed for another hour, and together, we walked back along the beach to the narrow pathway that led to the guest house.

  "Tell me more about the advances made in science," I asked, sitting next to her on the sofa. “I’ve seen amazing things in my long existence, but this century I’ve missed? I can scarcely believe it. So much has happened. I’ve been asleep before for long periods, but not nearly as much has happened as this time.”

  She yawned again, this time not even trying to hide it. I finally felt far too guilty to keep her up any longer.

  “You should go,” I said and stood up, offering her my hand. “It’s getting late and I’m getting hungrier by the moment. I found a vagrant behind a building in the town and had some blood last night, but not nearly enough to quench my thirst. You’re becoming far too desirable for your own good. I’ll have to travel more widely to find another vagrant or else people will become suspicious about two animal attacks in two nights so close together.”

  She frowned. “Is it safe for you to go out? Won’t your enemies be looking for you?”

  “I had a good head start and so I doubt they’ll find me. I left a few clues to mislead them about the direction I took, so hopefully, they won’t be looking for me here.”

  I stood, holding out my hand to her. She straightened her clothes and then went to the door. I opened it for her, but before she could leave, I took her hand once more and kissed my bite mark. She pulled back a bit, most likely afraid I was going to bite her again.

  “No, no,” I said, and held her hand firmly. “I wasn’t going to bite you. Just enjoying the feel of your skin against my lips.” I looked in her eyes. “It’s a vampire thing.”

  I pressed my mouth against her wrist again, opening my lips so that I felt her skin against my tongue, tasting her. As a predator, I couldn't help but respond to the scent of her blood and the warmth of her flesh. She gasped and her heart rate increased. Fear and wonder filled her – I could sense her emotions through our contact.

  I glanced up from her wrist, knowing that I would be transformed by how close I was to her blood, my eyes bloodshot, my fangs elongated. Finally, I let go of her wrist and cleared my throat. I didn't want to harm her. I wanted to protect her from myself – and any of my enemies who might have followed me to Oregon.

  “Good night, sweet Calla,” I said. “Sleep well. Perhaps your personal nightmare will be over and tomorrow night my brother will be here to take me back to the City and you’ll be free of me.”

  “Good night,” she replied and almost ran from me when I let go of her hand,

  I went back inside the guest house once I saw that she'd entered the cottage and closed the door behind her. She was a lovely young woman, sweet natured. I could tell from touching her that she didn't have a mean bone in her body. One as innocent as her could be exploited by my kind. I didn't want that to happen, intending to leave as soon as I had made contact with my family and they sent someone to return me to my home.

  Having been so close to her, smelling her human scent, seeing the blood pulsing beneath her skin, made me hungry.

  I flew off in search of a meal, landing in the dark alley behind a business, looking for a vagrant or someone to feed on. I wouldn't kill them. No use in raising alarm amongst the local inhabitants. I'd merely take a small amount of blood from several people, but not enough to make them sick or raise concern.

  It was very late by then and there was no one out at that time of night. I was unsuccessful and was considering a trip into the forest to look for nocturnal creatures to feed on. Instead, I went back to the guest house and had a hot bath, trying an old vampire trick to warm up our bodies. Sitting in the water, I felt better, but without blood soon, I’d feel sicker and weaker — and colder.

  Finally, once the water had cooled enough that it no longer offered any comfort, I got out of the tub and dried off, dressing before returning to the living room.

  I sat and read for a while, but the urge to feed — or to find some warmth — was overwhelming. Soon, I found myself back at the cottage, standing outside her window.

  I wanted to go inside and lie with her, use her body for warmth if I couldn’t feed. It would keep me from feeling too ill without blood to sustain me.

  She gasped when she saw me, pulling the coverlet around herself.

  “What are you doing here?” she whispered, her voice trembling. “You said you wouldn’t hurt me.”

  “I won’t. I haven’t been able to find anyone to feed off. The streets are bare and I couldn’t enter anyone’s house without being invited. Seems that even the
vagabonds are inside tonight.”

  “Why are you in my room?”

  I said nothing for a moment, considering whether it was better to just leave now, make my way closer to Portland. But I'd tasted her blood and that changed everything.

  “I’m so cold.”

  She pointed to a cedar chest at the end of the bed. “There’s a wool blanket in there for spring days when it’s cold in the mornings.”

  “Wool won’t do the trick,” I said, my voice low.

  She hesitated. “What will?”

  “I’ve already had a hot bath, but without blood, I can’t get warm.”

  I watched her recoil, shrinking away from me when she thought I was going to feed off her.

  “I’m not going to offer to let you drink my blood, so you’ll have to force me.”

  I fought with myself. I could use my powers to glamor her so that she'd welcome me into her arms, but that went against my ethics. No matter how hungry or cold I was, I wasn't used to forcing anyone into my arms against their will. Even feeding on the tramps by the railway tracks made me feel incredible guilt. I fed on them so I wouldn't feed on her.

  “Let me lie with you,” I said finally. “I need body heat if I can’t feed.”

  She pulled the covers more tightly around her. “You want to have sex with me?”

  “No,” I said firmly. “I mean, yes, of course, but I won’t. Just let me lie with you under the covers. Your body heat will warm me. I promise nothing will happen.”

  “How do I know you’ll keep your promise?”

  I shook my head. “You can’t know. I haven’t harmed you yet. You’ll have to trust me.”

  She sat back against the headboard. “What if I say no?”

  I sighed. “I’m so cold, Calla. Here.” I went over to the side of the bed and held out my hand. She didn't touch me. I sat on the bedside and took her hand, holding it in mine. Then I placed her hand on my neck so she'd know just how cold I was.

  “Please,” I said, keeping my voice soft. “I don’t want to force you.”

  “Then don’t.”