by Aya DeAniege
“And spawned a myth of a ghost ship and a creature which feeds on blood, I doubt it would be smart of us to try the same thing.”
“What other option would there be?” I asked. “Feed on each other?”
“You know how that’s done?” she asked, suddenly interested.
She pushed the young man away from her as she stood and came towards me. He fled the rooms, and I swallowed my words down.
Of course, vampires could survive on other vampires. Maker and Progeny do it for the first few days of immortality, normally. For most vampires, that is the extent of the passing of blood back and forth. Our bodies do produce blood, do rejuvenate in that way when and where required.
It was the only way Lu would allow me to feed while we were out. He deepened my addiction while giving me life.
The problem with feeding back and forth is that it speeds up the transference of powers. Our minds are more open to each other. In those brief moments of feeding, I saw flashes of Lu’s life as a mortal, of his time as an immortal, and possibly even a glimpse or two of his Maker.
She is a creature to behold.
So, I knew how to feed, but I well knew the dangers of such a thing. I had to weigh my fear of being killed, against my fear of Sasha learning of everything else.
Or worse.
Learning my power.
“Well?” she asked.
“I know it,” I said. “Do you know it?”
“Of course, I do, I’ve done it before,” she said with all the confidence of a virgin bragging about sex.
“And the memories?” I asked. “You aren’t afraid of the secrets we both keep?”
“Don’t share my secrets, and I won’t share yours, little brother.”
“I worry now that my death would be better than such a thing.”
“Why, did Lu tell you it was a dirty thing?” she asked with a snort of derision. The least ladylike sound I had ever heard from her.
“No, no he believes that is the only way I should drink from him,” I said quietly. “My concern is more for the secrets I keep.”
“I too keep secrets. Let us then make a deal. You and I.”
“And what is that?” I asked.
“I would demand that you share no memories with me, in exchange, I demand you take nothing but blood in return.”
“It can work like that?” I asked.
“Of course, it can, why wouldn’t it work that way?” she asked. “Our powers are not so limited or so much that we cannot control them with a few words. That part of it is surely just the same as power. So, will you accept my demands?”
“I do, I would, yes. Let us do it that way. I will share none of my memories and, in exchange, I will offer up none. We two will remain separated, only near enough to share blood.”
She smiled at me then. “Good! Let’s go on an adventure. Are you wearing that? Travelling light is an absolute must, and you look like you’ve been to England and back.”
“I should change,” I said with a nod.
“And pack a small bag, with a few coins in it, perhaps? We can steal the rest. Maybe eat some mortals on the way. It’ll be fun.”
“We’re going there, aren’t we? To visit the Mayan and Incan people?”
“I think only one of them, but yes. You and I are going to hop a ship and wade through the jungle. See if we can’t get ourselves into some trouble, hey?”
It was not the first time I had crossed the ocean, but I was so fearful of what was about to happen, that I didn’t think about that first time. The Council had boats set up to take vampires across.
If you didn’t upset the Council, you could purchase your way across. All inclusive. Though, in my case they dumped me on the boat after breaking up with Androgen.
As in, they’d feed you?
Yes, the whole boat would know that you were a vampire. Sometimes there would be others, making the trip as well.
If we had gone through that boat, however, I believe that Lu would have known. Or he would have found out somehow. By going our way, by feeding off one another, we avoided the Council knowing where we were.
We packed lightly and travelled to see Lucrecia. There, we told her of our plans, and where we would be going.
As much as Lu hates Lucrecia, he never attempted to enter her territory. She would tell no one where we were going. She never told anyone where anyone else was unless it was an emergency. The only reason we told her that we’d be crossing the ocean was so that she’d look after the stock while we were gone. By that point, it was only slight changes in breeding that would be needed, but a babysitter was still necessary.
From there, we went to the boats. I cannot recall if all mortals knew about the Americas by then. Before the general population knew, a few clever humans knew the way.
Mainly it was fae and werewolves crossing, however. The boat Sasha and I took was filled with werewolves headed to South America to see those who revered the sun. They would head north and visit upon those tribes of North America.
No, it must have been before everyone else knew.
Why do you say that?
There was an epidemic that swept through North America shortly before what’s-his-face supposedly discovered it. The epidemic was caused by a war between witches and werewolves. If not for that, perhaps the Europeans wouldn’t have been able to be such dicks.
Anyhow, I don’t believe there were humans on our boat. We couldn’t feed on witches and typically don’t feed on werewolves. It’s an effective way to start a bloodbath.
A vampire on werewolf blood is like a human on bath salts. Except for a vampire version of that, so worse.
Sasha and I starved ourselves to get across. The others knew that we were vampires, we were open with the captain about that. We were also open about how we planned to feed, considering we brought no stock with us.
A lone vampire would not have been permitted on the boat.
We put off feeding as long as possible.
Question: you had fed off Sasha before.
It’s the loop that does it. I feed off her, then she feeds off me. Something about the cycling of blood does it.
Besides Lu, I had never done that before. I expected a hundred different things. When I fed again... nothing. I saw nothing, I felt things but saw nothing to go along with the feelings.
I did ask her about it. She said she didn’t want to discuss it. She asked that I try to focus on kinder things, feeding on me depressed her. I did try, but I don’t think I accomplished much.
On the other side, we left the boat and slipped into the crowd. I hid Sasha, who does not do well without feeding, and found her a human. She killed the man in her eagerness, but it got her back on her feet.
She told me she needed a few days, so it was my turn to stay put while she went hunting. When she returned, she looked much more like herself.
“You, little brother, need to have some fun,” she chided me. “Even at your brightest, you’re like a smog-filled room. Let’s open those windows and air the place out some.”
“I’m sorry that I don’t do happy and giggles,” I snarled in response.
I hadn’t fed since she left, so I was a little cranky. She knew that I would snarl until I fed, but still, she teased me.
“Let’s go play that game. With the head in the ball? Everyone loves that!”
“Last time I played, I lost,” I protested. “They put my head in the ball!”
She giggled at me and took my hand, tugging me along as she went. It was easy for her to laugh at the idea of my head flying through the air during one of those games, considering her head had never been put in a ball.
It wasn’t until I was about to growl just that at her, that I thought it funny. I chuckled, but only for a moment.
As we had so many times before, Sasha and I slipped away from civilization. The jungle was our home.
We didn’t go to play the game. We found ourselves a city in the jungle, yes, but then we set up in the trees instead. Ther
e’s always been a peace to living apart from humans. We need them to survive, none of us could deny that, and because of that need we were chained to civilization.
Let me tell you, I got sick of the drudgery about two hundred years in and Lucrecia didn’t even live near a city. It’s all narcissistic whining and going on about how your life is just so hard. And no, before you ask, that is not commentary on the newest generation. Everyone does it and sometimes I just want to snap the neck of the person complaining to me that their lives are difficult because daddy didn’t buy them that thing they wanted.
In the jungle, we found a sort of relief from the human suffering. The foliage was dense enough to drown out so much while still being near enough to the city to pop over for a bite to eat.
Sasha showed me how to make things. We made a home among the branches of the trees, and were the only ones capable of reaching the area. Ladders made of vines, and the start of a home made of a tree. We manipulated new branches, even managing to shift old ones, to make the tree what we needed.
As immortals, we could be so patient.
We would go out and feed heartily whenever we pleased.
Sometimes we would get dressed up and stroll through the city. It was owned by a vampire Sasha knew. Upon our introduction, she took his hands in hers and smiled as if he were an old friend.
He looked about ready to shit himself, which isn’t a reaction a mortal would put to Sasha, but one I had seen more than once among supernatural people. I believe you described it as a resting murder face, she does have that look more and more often but that doesn’t mean she’d be violent.
I… no, she, I mean. It’s hard to explain. But I’m pretty certain you’re wrong there.
Sasha wouldn’t hurt a fly.
If by fly, you mean you, and if by hurt you mean maul in a sexual manner, then yes, yes, she would.
What?
Nothing, you two need to talk about the whole Wraith thing.
Fine, back to my story then.
Sasha apparently gave him whatever greeting she gives to everyone but me, because he was startled and surprised. There was not a single protest, he greeted her in a wooden manner, almost like one might who expected their visitor to be dead. Yes, that’s the term perhaps. He looked like he had seen a ghost.
“You wouldn’t tell anyone that we were here, would you?” she asked him.
“So, you tell me, so I will keep to myself,” he said. “As you spoke all those centuries ago, so it still is. I owe you my life. It is the least I could do. Who is this?”
“This is Quintillus, the boy,” Sasha said.
She then gave the vampire the name she was going by and said that only messages from Lucrecia should be passed along. All others were to pass through as if we weren’t there.
He agreed, then held his hand out to me.
His name then was different than it is now. So, I will call him by his current name, Bob.
Bob is white as a sheet. How did he pass back then?
Skin dye, seriously, it’s not that hard to stain your skin.
Bob had been situated in the Americas for several centuries. He’s been a little tubby ever since. So, glutted on blood that he’s not lost the weight again. Though he has commented on appearing to be harmless and therefore ignored by mortals who would otherwise cause trouble.
“Can we talk in private?” Sasha asked.
“Of course, Quintillus, my boy—”
“Don’t call me boy,” I snapped.
“I’ll call you whatever I damned well please,” he said with an equal amount of malice. “Do look over my spread, feed where you please. These are stock, bed them if you feel the desire, but keep them alive.”
He and Sasha went off together.
Sasha would often have private conversations with Bob. I don’t know whatever for, perhaps to catch up on gossip and Council law. Frankly, it was none of my business and I kept out of it. Just as they almost never asked after what I did while they were talking.
During those times, I would always be fed by his stock. They came to know me and would push one another out of the way to get to the front.
Another humble brag.
Remind me to tie you to a bed and tease you until you beg for release.
And then?
And then I’m going to leave you there, starving for attention.
Bob was not a bad lover himself. His stock was maintained both as a harem and food. Taking blood from them was a simple matter, but only the attractive ones could sleep with him.
Those were well cared for, of course. If their beauty began to fade, he would set them up with a breeder, to beget more beautiful women, to please him in the next generation.
While with him, they were protected from the sacrifices if they behaved.
That night, I must have bedded half of them. No, that’s not a humble brag. And don’t laugh, but I had gotten that far into my life before a woman tried to please me. They didn’t seem to care about their pleasure, though I did make that my goal.
It was the first time a woman had, you know.
Are you blushing?
Perhaps I am. You will not tell the others that you witnessed such a thing.
I had performed oral for others, but it was never something anyone would do for me. I grew up with the understanding that my place in the world was kneeling at Lu’s feet. When Lucrecia took me on, she maintained that belief.
She thinks a woman’s mouth is wasted on oral because a man doesn’t feel sexual pleasure as a woman might. I suppose you could say that she believes it is a wasted effort.
So, I think kindly of Bob’s stock. Especially those women. I didn’t even have a name to call it by, not until Bob walked in on me and his favourite.
In my defence, I didn’t know she was supposed to be his alone. I thought he was upset because I had my cock in her mouth.
He was angry with her, not with me. She should have known better. When she tried to blame me for the act, saying that I forced her, he hit her and called her such mean things.
Mean things?
So, mean, Bob was really mean to her.
I’m sorry, all others get great detail, yet Bob said mean things?
Yes. I like Bob. I mean, he was in the right of it too, but he was still mean, especially for Bob.
Then he had her sacrificed.
Oh, dear God.
That’s what happens when you try to lie to your god. And Bob had set himself up as a god to those people. They revered him and feared him.
Which is odd, because he’s such a cuddly teddy bear.
Was he the one to start the sacrifices?
Maybe, you must understand, we don’t see the person who started that tradition as bad in any way. They created a fount from which we might all sup. They were a hero. There was talk of bringing those beliefs into the eastern countries.
There was so much blood flowing that I ate heartily whenever I was hungry. Word got out, and suddenly women were throwing themselves at me. Over the course of years, I bedded many women of the city.
Sometimes I ate their husbands and then bedded them. Though I didn’t make them watch me eat their husbands, that would have been, you know, awkward.
What’s that look for? This is your heritage now. Wrap your head around it before the desire to do it overcomes you. Maybe you won’t have this sort of conversation in another thousand years.
Okay, fine, it’s the food chain. But what’s this got to do with hiding?
Well, we were in hiding. Only, we never moved, we stayed in Bob’s city the entire time. There were little excursions, visits to other cities for a few days.
But we didn’t travel around. We were not constantly looking over our shoulder, and often returned to the safety and security of our home in the trees. Where we knew the lay of the land and had Bob’s city to our back. We knew a sort of peach while living there.
When in hiding, there are key things you need to remember. Food, how are you getting it and how can you h
ide the evidence of your feeding? Where are you living? Are there witnesses to that location?
An off the map locale may work, but if you get cornered, then what?
Hiding in plain sight is better.
A hundred years after arriving at Bob’s city, in strolled Death. Bold and in daylight, dragging that scythe behind him all through the city as he searched.
See, Death is a predator like any other. He might not be able to smell you, but he knows how to scare you out.
He wandered up and down the streets, even fed openly on the citizens of the city.
I almost bolted.
We were up in the tree, watching him wander about. He entered as I woke because he knew my schedule down to the minute. I thought he knew I was there, that he was looking for me among the citizens and I wanted to get out of there before he spotted me.
Up in the tree, Sasha caught me by the back of my neck and used that obscene strength of hers to keep me there.
“Don’t move,” she said loudly.
I tried to shush her, and she squashed me into the tree again. Then she dragged me to the edge, and we watched him walking through the city.
“He can’t hear you, you fool. Not unless you shout,” she grumbled.
“He knows we’re here,” I hissed back.
“No, he doesn’t,” she responded calmly. “If he knew where we were, he’d be at the tree. He’s trying to frighten you into showing yourself. He’s probably done this in every city between here and the coast. Probably scared himself up some frightened vampires. Be the predator, not the prey.”
“But he always knows where I am,” I protested
“For a moment, let’s assume that’s your Maker, just humour me. If that were Lu, and if Lu were the one trying to scare you out, you know he can’t tell where you are, right? Not unless you’re flipping out like a damned mortal headed for the gallows. So, sit your ass down and get yourself together.”
Wait, you only know where I am if I’m…
Losing your shit, I believe is the saying humans use. It’s meant as protection, I’m sure. As a Maker, I’m supposed to swoop in and save you. Not all Makers are like that.
I sat myself down and tried to breathe. Tried to calm myself down. I thought of a hundred other things, things not Lu.
