A Vampire's Hunger

by Carla Susan Smith

  “My maker has enforced a restriction prohibiting me from moving beyond the boundaries of the mountain under any circumstances,” she explained.

  “Are you sure? What if I told you I could change those circumstances?”

  Fate, she decided, had a wickedly twisted sense of humor. She was conversing with an Original Vampire, but one who had taken one too many blows to the head at some point during his life span. Pretty to look at, but dumb as a box of rocks and unable to grasp fully the ramifications of her confinement.

  “I cannot leave. I am physically bound to this place until my maker sets me free.”

  He looked thoughtful. “What happens if you try to go past this impossible barrier?”

  I’ll immediately gain sixty pounds, have a unibrow, and my skin will be covered with warts and liver spots.

  “I’ll die,” she told him. It was pretty much the same thing.

  “And if I knew of a way to stop that from happening?”

  Now it was Katja’s turn to think she was the one with swelling on the brain. “It’s not possible. What you are suggesting would mean destroying the bond between vampire and maker. Something that can only happen with my death.” She arched a brow and gave him a withering look. “Hardly an acceptable alternative from where I stand.”

  She couldn’t decide if he was deranged or dangerous. Or maybe both. Did he not comprehend the one irrefutable truth about being a vampire? Without a connection to his maker, a vampire would simply cease to exist. And if an Original Vampire was somehow killed, all the vampires he had ever made also died. Of course, it was a truth that had never been put to the test, but all vampires who had been turned had the knowledge implanted inside their heads. Like knowing there wasn’t an SPF number high enough to let them walk in the sunlight.

  “Katja, there is a way you could survive breaking your bond with Ryiel.” The green of his eyes darkened to a deep emerald. “But only if you’re brave enough to try it.”

  The sound of her name on his lips was as startling as his words. “You know who I am?”

  He nodded and gave her a sly smile. “Do I look like I go traipsing around the Himalayas for fun?” No, she’d figured he was here for a reason, but she’d assumed it was connected to Ryiel. One Original Vampire to another. It had never crossed her mind that he had come for her. “I won’t ask again, Katja. If you could leave this place, and be free of your maker’s influence, would you go?”

  She stared into his eyes, which had resumed their pale hue. “Of course I would.”

  Going to his duster, the vampire removed a flat case from an inside pocket and opened the lid. Inside was a syringe filled with a brilliant blue liquid. It sparkled like a sapphire in the candlelight.

  “It matches your hair,” she told him.

  The vampire narrowed his eyes and gave a sly grin. “A small vanity permitted by the alchemist.”

  She pondered his use of the old-fashioned word. “But what will happen to me? If I’m not bonded to Ryiel, will I not perish?”

  His expression made her consider refusing him because it said he didn’t know. Not with any certainty. But Katja wasn’t going to refuse because she already knew it was too late. His secret experiment hadn’t been confined to the vampires in the valley. She was also a part of it. “How can I not be bonded?”

  He frowned as if he were seriously mulling through every possible consideration her question posed. The arrogant smile returned. “Perhaps I misspoke. The bond between you and Ryiel would break, but it would be replaced.”

  She pursed her lips as understanding swept through her. “I’ll be bonded to you instead.”

  “As I said, beautiful and smart.”

  Katja had been a vampire for so long, she couldn’t imagine not being connected to someone more powerful than herself. Ever since she was a small child, when her father realized others would pay to use the body attached to such an exotic face, she had been used by those who were stronger and more powerful. The key to surviving her harrowing childhood had been the uncanny ability to always recognize who was the strongest of those around her and use it to her advantage. This situation was no different. She suspected Ryiel was actually stronger than the one who stood before her, but Ryiel was not here. She looked at the syringe in the vampire’s fingers, the bright color twinkling in the candlelight. If she refused, he would only overpower her and take what he wanted.

  So what choice did she have? When Ryiel discovered another vampire had been here, he would either kill her or keep her in this god-awful place until she lost her mind. Did she want to suffer a century or more in this place under such dismal conditions? The only thing Ryiel had ever done for her was introduce her to Gabriel, and that hadn’t gone the way she had hoped. And now she was reduced to indentured servitude, a life of drudgery, with her only relief the faint hope she might fuck Stavros to death. It made no difference that she knew nothing about the vampire standing in front of her. For reasons of his own, he had sought her out, and that had to count for something. That he had also orchestrated the death of a thousand humans meant nothing to her.

  And now he was offering her a chance to do something no other vampire had ever done before. She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t intrigued by the proposal, supposing it could actually work. He tapped the barrel of the syringe with a well-manicured nail.

  “So . . . yes or no, Katja?”

  She held out her arm, the pale skin accentuating the vein in the crook of her arm. “Yes.”

  * * *

  Raising his head, Stavros noticed an apricot blush painting the peaks of the far-off mountains. It was close to dawn. He watched as Ryiel gently placed the last corpse on the funeral pyre, the small body of a child soon consumed by a blanket of flame. Knowing their task had been necessary did not make it any the less tragic for either of them.

  “What now?” Stavros asked, his face and hands streaked black from tending the fire.

  “Sleep. We both need to rest, and I have a journey to make.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “I must let Gabriel know what has happened here.”

  The sentinel frowned. This was not the first scene of mass slaughter they had come across, as either participants or witnesses. It was, however, the first time Ryiel had ever expressed the need to discuss it with any other Original Vampire. It was proof enough of his concern.

  “Is it because of the vampires?”

  Ryiel nodded, his own chest glistening with sweat. “These are a different kind of vampire, and I suspect the manner of their creation is unnatural.”

  “You could just call him, or send an e-mail,” Stavros suggested.

  Ryiel’s disdain for modern technology did not mean he was foolish enough to ignore it. He simply believed in being circumspect in its use. Still, it always baffled the sentinel that Ryiel was able to achieve a connection, especially from their current location.

  “I could,” Ryiel agreed, “but I have other news that needs to be delivered in person, and as soon as possible.”

  For the first time, Stavros permitted himself a smile. “You have found the answer his Promise seeks?”

  “Indeed I ha—AAAAAARGH!”

  The claymore fell from the Original Vampire’s fingers as he clutched his head with his hands and fell to his knees in obvious agony. Rushing to his side, Stavros stared helplessly as his master writhed on the ground, his lips curled back, fangs fully exposed. Seeing the vampire fist his hands in his hair, the sentinel threw himself onto the powerful chest and gripped Ryiel’s wrists in order to prevent him from pulling out his hair.

  For what seemed like an eternity, the sentinel did his best to ride out the violent storm that had taken hold of his master. Knees locked on either side of Ryiel’s torso, Stavros prayed to his long-forgotten gods to be forgiven for any ribs he cracked. And then, with an unprecedented surge of strength, the sentinel felt himself being caressed by a rush of air as the vampire heaved himself up. Landing on the opposite side of the pyre, Stavros
felt his head strike the hard, unforgiving ground. Blood filled his mouth as his teeth sliced through the tip of his tongue, but before he had time to consider what the scent of fresh blood might mean to his master, the vampire was on him.

  “My service is my life, and both I give to you,” Stavros said as he looked into the face of the vampire he had chosen to follow out of the Void too long ago for either of them to recall with any clarity of detail. Something flickered in Ryiel’s eyes, changing them to a form more bestial than human. And then the vampire threw back his head, letting loose a snarling, shrieking howl that came from an animal who had ceased to prowl the night eons ago. Stavros trembled, causing Ryiel to look down at him. His eyes glowed as bright as the moon before rolling up into his head as he fell off his faithful servant in an unconscious heap.

  Chapter 11

  “Dahlink!”

  Anasztaizia threw herself at me as I opened the front door. The slight shudder of her body as she held onto me was the only sign she gave of how traumatic these past few days had been for her. My lack of apparent enthusiasm made her pull back and look at me with concern. I held up wet hands, suds dripping on the floor. She made a dismissive gesture and yanked me forward for another tight embrace. Now the tremble of her body was accompanied by some wet snuffling in the side of my neck as she cried and gently fell to pieces. I hugged her back. If she didn’t care about wet handprints on her silk blouse, why should I?

  A polite harrumph from the hallway made us break apart. Tomas moved past us carrying a sack of groceries in each arm. He came to a stop a few feet inside the door.

  “What the hell have you been doing?”

  I could feel the color flush my face. I’d been hoping to have my living room look more like a living room and less like the morning after at some high-end college frat house party. I say high-end because most movies depicting college parties usually involved a kegger. I had no beer, save for a six-pack of something imported in the fridge, but every other conceivable surface displayed a bottle of alcohol. Some were actually unopened, but most were not.

  I cleared a space on the kitchen counter for Tomas to put the grocery bags. This too was crowded with bottles, but these were all mixers. And garnishes. Tomas seemed momentarily mesmerized by the jar of olives he now held in his hand. I had only ever thought olives came in one kind. Apparently not. There were also pearl onions, red and green maraschino cherries, salt, sugar, and powdered chocolate for rim dipping, as well as a crate of fresh fruit. Lemons, limes, oranges, three pineapples, two coconuts, and a bunch of bananas.

  Anasztaizia followed us in, wiping at her eyes with a tissue. “There now,” I smiled. “My favorite raccoon.” I’ve always been of the opinion that waterproof mascara is a lie. Water-resistant to some degree maybe, but waterproof? Not when it comes to crying.

  The lovely Magyar kissed me on both cheeks, paying no attention to her ruined makeup. “Well, now I know why you smell like you’ve been on a three-day drunk, dahlink,” she told me. “I can see that you have been.”

  “Yeah, well, it was my idea to play beer pong, but your boyfriend decided on a different game. One that required a copy of the Bartenders Ultimate Guide.”

  “That was in his coat pocket,” Tomas said. “I left it on the washer when I took his coat.”

  “Gee, thanks.” At least now I knew where it had come from.

  Anasztaizia gave a little shrug. “Whenever we go out, Aleksei always likes to try a new cocktail.”

  Imagining the big guy ordering a drink with either fruit or an umbrella as decoration was mildly disturbing. Especially in a public place. “Yeah, well, I think he’s gonna need a new book. That one’s toast.”

  “You’ve spent three days drinking cocktails?”

  It was difficult to tell if Tomas was delighted or disappointed by the fact that I was still standing and reasonably functional. “Aleksei suggested we binge watch Downton Abbey and play the Tea Game. He told me it would be fun.”

  “I’m almost afraid to ask,” Tomas said, “but what the hell is the Tea Game?”

  “Any time the word tea is mentioned by any character, or they are shown drinking the disgusting stuff, or if you spot a teapot, or someone holding a tea cup, you hit the pause button and try a new cocktail,” I paused and looked at both of them. “It was Downton Abbey, for Christ’s sake! Do you have any idea how much tea those people drink?”

  “Oh dear,” Anasztaizia mumbled under her breath and tried to smother a laugh.

  “It’s not funny,” I admonished. She gave me a suitably contrite look.

  Tomas just seemed curious. “Where did all the liquor come from?”

  “I’m pretty sure Aleksei has just paid a year’s college tuition for the eldest Bradleigh boy. Don’t be surprised when you receive an invitation to his graduation party,” I added, smiling at Anasztaizia.

  “Who’s Bradleigh?”

  “Mr. Bradleigh, the elder, owns the liquor store on Main Avenue. By the time Aleksei came to the end of his list they were on first-name terms. Al and Al, which is really quite funny, if you think about it.”

  “This all came from one store?” Tomas seemed flabbergasted.

  “A year’s tuition in the bag. I get the feeling they can’t wait for Christmas and New Year’s. It might be easier—and cheaper—to become an honorary aunt and uncle.”

  “I can’t believe you drank this much.” Tomas gave a sad shake of his head.

  “It wasn’t only me. Aleksei did his fair share.” He was making it sound as if I was the only lush in the building. Well, I might be, but it was rude to say so. “Besides, I think it helped him.”

  Picking up a bottle, Tomas sniffed the open neck. He jerked his head back, wearing the same expression I’d worn when he asked if I’d like to try blood pudding. Not only no, but hell no. “How could this help a vampire?” He scowled.

  “Didn’t you know a steady consumption of alcohol can enable a vampire to go without sleep for a few days?” I relished the opportunity to display my knowledge even if I was being rather smug about it. “The problem, as I see it, is having someone around to stop said vampire from doing something stupid if he gets too drunk. Luckily for Aleksei, my boyfriend is also a vampire.” I pointed at the wall of windows that normally gave a spectacular view of the river and the Greenley Heights financial district. The glass behind the floor-to-ceiling sheers was covered by steel shutters—something Gabriel had installed under the guise of security. “No chance of a drunk vampire accidentally exposing himself to sunlight.”

  “But why didn’t Aleksei want to sleep?” his girlfriend asked.

  My finger now waved in her direction. “My darling girl, your boyfriend was consumed with guilt about wanting to sleep with me.” I paused and frowned. “Well, not sleep with me, but sleep with me.”

  She nodded. It was a good thing one of us understood what I was saying. “So where is he now?”

  “Oh, he finally crashed this morning,” I told her. “I think it was the first time he was able to think about sleeping without me. That’s a good thing, right?” This last I addressed to Tomas, who nodded.

  “Yes, it is.” He gave me the same kind of look my dad had used when I came home drunk from my senior prom. “And you haven’t slept either?”

  “I didn’t say that,” I corrected. “I did pass out a couple of times.” Two sets of raised brows needed details. “One time I know was after Mr. Bates was arrested and charged with the murder of his ex-wife. I was drinking a Wisconsin Lunchbox at the time. Then I’m pretty sure I passed out again after Sex with an Alligator when poor lady Edith found out she was pregnant.”

  “Lady Edith had sex with an alligator?” Anasztaizia queried.

  “No, silly, I had the libation, but maybe if Lady Edith had had one, she might have had better luck with men.”

  “How long since you last drank anything?” Tomas inquired.

  “Well . . . does the chocolate martini I had for breakfast count?” I watched a vertical line form be
tween his eyebrows. “And nothing but water since. I wanted to clean up before you guys got here.”

  Anasztaizia opened the fridge and began making space for the perishables she unloaded from the grocery sacks. “Don’t worry about it. You’ve done more than enough. Aleksei can finish when he wakes up.”

  “Uh-huh.” Somehow I didn’t think washing dirty glassware was going to be high on the big guy’s to-do list.

  “So, dahlink . . . where is he?” Anasztaizia paused, a carton of eggs in her hand.

  “In my bed,” I answered without thinking.

  Now it was Anasztaizia’s turn to blush.

  “Oh, don’t worry, I think he was expecting you.”

  “Did you tell him Tomas was bringing me?” She put the eggs in the fridge and closed the door.

  I shook my head. I wasn’t going to say anything to the big guy unless I knew for sure. Even though Tomas told me he would bring the lovely Magyar with him, I had no idea if Anasztaizia would agree to come, or what her reaction would be to what had happened. I took her hand in mine. “You do know why he broke his bond with you, right?”

  “To protect me.” Her voice took on a raspy quality. “But until I hear him tell me in his own words . . .” She shrugged, not finishing her sentence.

  “And you know why he came to me instead of you?”

  If I didn’t know what to look for, putting myself in her place, I would have missed the flash of hurt in her eyes. “Gabriel told me he was the one who sent Aleksei to you.”

  “Gabriel? You spoke to Gabriel about this?”

  She nodded. “Yes, he came to see me.”

  Was that before or after he decided you were a liar?

  “He said it would be better,” Anasztaizia added.

  Yeah? For who?

  I could hear something in her undertone. Not so much bitterness, more frustration because she had been unable to help the love of her life at one of his darkest hours.

  “Anasztaizia”—I squeezed her fingers gently—“the only reason Gabriel sent Aleksei to me was because he couldn’t get to him in time. I have Gabriel’s blood in me, and it was the next best thing.”