The Oldest Living Vampire In Love (The Oldest Living Vampire Saga Book 3)

by Joseph Duncan

  For me, only a year or two had passed from the time that I cast myself into the maw of the glacier to that night, talking to Ilio about the complications of marriage for our kind. I was still haunted by the loneliness which had caused me to throw myself headlong into the void. I had Ilio, and if it weren’t for him I might have tried to find some other way to end myself, but he was just a boy—my adopted son, yes-- but his company could only go so far in filling the emptiness in my soul.

  To have a female companion again… someone to provide for, someone to comfort me as only a woman can comfort. And sex… let’s not forget about that! I no longer had the need for sex that mortal men are driven by, but my encounter with Priss’s fiery older sister had awakened a new desire for the act. The overwhelming pleasure of our coupling still sizzled in my memory.

  Still, I could not put the dangers of such an adventure completely out of my thoughts. Ilio was young. Inexperienced. He still thought only of his own wants, his own needs. I was much too old for such selfish self-deception.

  Put it out of your thoughts, I advised myself.

  But still, it remained: the ache.

  I remembered my days as a young bachelor, living with my tent-mate Brulde. The era of my mortal life had been a time of plenty, a brief period of warmth before the final glaciation of Europe. Our lives were easy, and we had lived in relative peace with our neighbors. By day we fished or hunted small game in the valley forest. By night we dreamed moonily of all the young women in our village, debating who was prettiest, who would make the best wife, and who we’d just as soon club in the head.

  My people had practiced fertility magic. Sex for our tribe was a sacred duty. It was used to heal, to strengthen the bonds of our community. For the River People, every occasion was an excuse for a ritual orgy! I had never lacked for sexual partners when I was a mortal man, and if I did come up deficient, I could always depend on Brulde. The men of our village coupled much like the Spartans or the Greeks.

  But to have a wife! To have that special bond, to become one with another and bring forth new life-- that was the holiest of holy to my people… not the petty rules and regulations of your uptight modern deities!

  I suppose I should end this monologue before I offend you unnecessarily. I know how you modern folk cling to your new myths, your rigid rules and customs, preferring the comfort of fairy tales to the unflinching stare of reality, the tranquility of imprisonment to the fearful prospect of freedom. You’ve become timid pets, kept so long in confinement that the grass beneath your feet, the open sky above, even your own instinctive desires, freeze your hearts with terror.

  Sometimes I think this willful ignorance, this fear of liberty, is a symptom of another type of loneliness. Racial loneliness. You are a solitary race on a tiny, remote world, circling a massive black hole that is careening through an infinite freezing void at two million kilometers an hour. A single race, a silent galaxy, a vast and hostile universe. It should come as no surprise that so many of you seek refuge in fantasy. It must be comforting to believe some omnipotent Papa is watching your every thought and deed, guarding you from the big scary universe-- so long as you follow His rules.

  Here is the ultimate, terrifying truth: your mother and your father are your Creator, and you are free to do as you will.

  I’m sorry if that upsets you.

  But I digress...

  11

  Lying on my belly in the grass, I turned to the boy and hissed, “Have you taken leave of your senses, Son? That creature is twice the size of you!” In the dale below, a herd of aurochs had bedded for the night.

  The precursors of modern cattle, Aurochs were massive horned beasts. Powerful and foul-tempered, the bulls stood six feet tall at the withers and sported lyre-shaped forward-angled horns. Though the meat was delicious, and a single aurochs could feed an entire tribe for days, my people had not hunted the monstrosities with any regularity. The game animals of our valley forest had been too abundant, and much too easily killed, for us to bother with the fierce two thousand pound creatures, though our cousins to the south had sometimes hunted them, and traded their hides and meat to us for the fish and crustaceans we collected from the river.

  This is how he intends to impress the girl? I thought with disbelief. The horns of those monsters were long enough to run two grown men straight through-- with room for another, at least. I was growing ever more certain the boy had gone mad!

  In the vale below, the cows slept, their front legs tucked under their chests, their heads curved back toward their hind quarters. The much larger bulls dozed standing up, guarding the herd against predators.

  I had suggested that Ilio take one of the smaller cows. There was enough meat, even on the small ones, to impress the Tanti, but he had scoffed at my counsel. He had set his sights on the biggest bull in the herd, and would settle for no less a glory.

  “Please, Father, have some confidence in me,” he’d said. “I am nearly as fast as you!”

  We’d come across the aurochs the previous night, after bringing down an elk for our evening meal. We had just finished filling our bellies when we heard an otherworldly bawling sound echoing in the distance. Curious, we went to investigate, and spotted the animals in a marshy lowland area.

  “Let’s come back tomorrow night and hunt one of those great beasts!” Ilio had whispered excitedly. “After we’ve fed on its blood, we can take its meat to the Neirie. It will prove to Priss that I can provide for her and her family. All the Neirie will be impressed by our feat!”

  “Why not bring them the elk we killed tonight as well?” I replied. It had never crossed my mind to bring the animals we had fed on to the Neirie, but now that I had thought of it, it seemed shameful that we had not done it before. It was a terrible waste to leave the flesh of our kills for the scavengers. The elk meat would appease many hungry bellies.

  We had hurried back to the elk, frightening away a pack of hyenas that were gnawing on its belly, and then we’d dragged the carcass to the Neirie camp. It was a journey of several kilometers, but the animal’s bulk gave us little difficulty.

  One of the night guards saw us dragging the animal into camp and had cried out ecstatically, awakening the others. Rushing to us, spear in hand, he had circled the great beast with amazement, gesturing and gabbling in some language neither of us understood. Smiling back at the sentry, making hand signs so that he understood we were giving the kill to his group, we had retreated before the sleepy Neirie could rise from their beds to mob us again, even though our bellies were full and the smell of their blood was not so distracting.

  “They will not go hungry tomorrow,” I’d said to Ilio as we retired to our own camp, proud of our good deed. “I only wish we’d thought of it sooner.”

  Ilio had prepared spears for his aurochs hunt the rest of the night, burning their tips in our fire to harden them. I sat across from him, knapping a new-- and much larger-- flint blade, just in case we should need it to finish off one of the great urus.

  I was fairly confident of our superhuman strength, but the urus were mighty animals, very strong, and very quick despite their great bulk, and I wanted to make sure we had the means to dispatch one of them should our vampire strength prove inadequate to the task.

  Now, looking down into the glade at them, our spears and stone knives seemed laughably insufficient. I was no longer so comfortable with the thought of Ilio tackling one of the beasts on his own.

  But he was insistent. He wanted to make the kill himself, without my help. He had made it a point of honor, saying I should assist him only if it seemed the task was too great for him.

  I seriously debated reversing my decision. The boy was strong-- and fast, yes-- but the beast he’d pointed out to me was just so... enormous!

  Before I could object again, however, Ilio wriggled forward on his belly.

  He slid through the grass like a snake, stalking the aurochs in the same manner his Denghoi relatives had hunted the wooly mammoths. I waited, tense, as he s
lithered down the hill, closing in on the massive creatures.

  Vampires have a further advantage over men in the hunting of wild beasts. Disregarding our strength and speed—not to mention our enhanced senses -- we give off very little body odor, only what smells cling to our clothing and skin from our environment. Before we left off to hunt the great aurochs that night, we had stripped down to our loincloths and bathed in one of the pools near our camp, using a diffusion of soapwart to strip away any scents that might give away our presence. Although the boy approached from upwind, I knew his odor would not alarm the dozing behemoths. But still, I worried.

  Ilio crawled on his elbows through the grass, staying low, several spears clutched in his fists. I could see him quite clearly in the moonlight, the muscles in his shoulders and thighs flexing as he worked his way downhill. His smooth white flesh was very reflective.

  Too reflective, perhaps.

  We probably should have smeared mud on our skin, I thought. One of those bulls is surely going to spot him!

  I started to crawl after the boy, hoping to warn him of our lapse. We might still withdraw and camouflage our pale skin, but only if I could catch up to him before he attacked.

  Too late--! One of the bulls spotted the boy, and let out an alarmed bellow.

  “Ilio, wait!” I hissed, but the boy had already launched himself at the herd.

  Even as I rose in pursuit, I saw the lad fly onto the back of the startled bull. I leapt to my feet and ran down the hill as he thrust one of his spears into the aurochs’s shoulder.

  Please, ancestors, let it be a fatal blow! I prayed, but the wooden shaft snapped. The bull bucked an instant later, and Ilio was thrown from the great beast’s back, landing in a sprawl directly in front of the enraged urus.

  “Ilio! Fly!” I cried, but the entire herd was in a panic now. I dodged among the stampeding animals.

  A subordinate bull charged straight at me, its massive horns leveled in my direction. I sprang easily over the animal, but was struck a glancing blow the moment my feet hit the ground.

  The aurochs, a cow, plowed into me, eyes mad with fear, and I was spun completely around in a circle, thrown to my knees by the impact.

  Shaking my head to clear it, I stumbled to my feet and continued after the boy, but I was too slow to save him. I watched in horror as the alpha bull lunged forward, running my adopted son through with one of its great curved horns.

  Ilio cried out as the animal’s horn penetrated his back, bursting out the front of him just below the ribcage. Ilio grasped the horn protruding from his torso, his face twisted with anguish, as the animal lifted him into the air and shook him violently to and fro. Black blood frothed from his lips and boiled from the hole in his abdomen.

  I leapt into the air, delivering a fierce blow to the animal’s shoulder, but the beast was so massive, its body so dense with muscle, that the animal barely stumbled. It bawled in anger and confusion. I felt pain in my fist and looked down to see a webwork of fine fissures in it. The impact had nearly shattered my hand.

  The cracks healed even as I looked at them, and I leapt after the beast again.

  I lunged onto its back, thinking to wrestle it to the ground, but I had no leverage, and the bull bucked me off, tossing me several feet away.

  Ilio shrieked as the animal’s violence sent several zigzagging cracks racing up through his chest and down across his pelvis. He was about to split in two!

  Desperately, I went after the bull again. This time I did not throw myself upon it, but drove into it from beneath. I ducked against its hot belly and, planting my feet, shoved it up and onto its side.

  It fell with a howl, and I felt the reverberation of its crashing body in the earth beneath my feet. I raced around to its head before it could rise back up and snapped the horn that impaled my adopted son.

  All around us, the aurochs stampeded. The air was full of flying mud. The lowing of the panicked cows deafened. Some of the other bulls had seen us and were lumbering in our direction, horns lowered. I swept Ilio’s limp body into my arms and leapt.

  “Oh, you foolish boy!” I cried.

  I landed and leapt again, getting us clear of the thundering herd.

  I set him down on the moonlit hillside. The boy yelped in pain, still clutching the aurochs horn that protruded from his diaphragm. I could see the black blood bubbling from his wounds, trying to knit his damaged flesh back together. “Harden your spirit, Ilio,” I hissed. “I have to pull this horn from your body.”

  “No!” he pleaded as I rolled him onto his side. “Please, Thest, don’t do it! Wait!”

  “It must be done,” I said. “Do you want your body to heal around it?”

  But in truth, I had no idea if he could recover from such a wounding. I did not know the limits of his durability. Despite my own apparent invulnerability, the only other blood drinkers I’d encountered had perished easily enough— and at my own hands! I was almost certain the boy’s wound was fatal.

  Please, Ancestors, give him strength! I prayed. I do not want to be alone again!

  The very thought brought back the specter of my former madness, the unbearable loneliness that had driven me to suicide.

  If he dies I will kill myself, I thought. I will find a way to finish it!

  Already, the Strix was sealing his flesh to the aurochs horn. I seized hold of the thick end that protruded from his back and pulled. Ilio shrieked in pain, and I, in my love for the boy, felt his pain and shrieked with him. I had to tear the horn loose of his mending flesh, twisting it to and fro, his flesh cracking again.

  It came free with a horrible ripping sound and I tossed it aside.

  “It is done! I have it out,” I panted, examining the hole in his back. I could see his vertebrae, the pale curve of a fractured rib.

  I rolled him onto his back and his eyes tilted up to the heavens. He was dying. The living blood inside him was trying to repair the damage, but as it knit the edges of his wounds back together, his flesh was turning a dull gray color, his cheeks and eye sockets were sinking in.

  “No, no, no!” I moaned, and then I brought up the living blood within me and expelled it upon his injuries.

  The tearing pain in my guts was bad, but the thought of losing another child was unbearable. I summoned up the Strix and did it again, vomiting the living blood upon him.

  I could see it bubbling, spreading across his injuries like some tentacled sea creature. It was healing his injuries, but would it be enough?

  “Ilio? Ilio, can you hear me?” I shouted, shaking the boy. He flopped bonelessly and I clamped my hand over my mouth, thinking, This isn’t real! I am dreaming this, and I will wake up any moment now with the boy sleeping beside me, whole and healthy. We will rise and then we will range out and find something warm and full of blood and--

  Blood! I thought. He needs living, mortal blood!

  The aurochs herd was rapidly dwindling into the distance, but they were still within range. I told Ilio I would be right back, and then I took off running toward the herd. The grass blurred beneath my feet. The wind whistled in my ears, and then I was among them. I searched through the stragglers and settled on a young and bawling calf. Something easy.

  “I’m sorry, little one,” I gasped, and then I scooped the calf into my arms.

  The calf’s mother wheeled around to charge me, but I had already snapped the aurochs’s neck.

  I returned to Ilio and slashed the cow’s jugular with my eyeteeth. Holding the dead animal above him, I drained its warm blood onto his body.

  Yes! That was it!

  The Strix quivered as the blood pattered down. It shot out wavering tentacles to absorb the hot red fluid. The black blood within Ilio’s body strained out through the wound in his chest, glistening pseudopods reaching toward the mutilated beast. I fed the aurochs blood to it, aiming the scarlet fluid toward the hole in the center of his body. Slowly at first, it began to shrink.

  “Ilio, drink!” I cried, and I sat the boy up. I pressed
his lips to the calf’s torn neck. For a moment he hung limply in my arms, but then his throat convulsed. I heard the smacking of his lips. He seized the animal with sudden, desperate strength and began to suck great draughts of blood from it.

  His wounds healed at a quickening pace. I watched all the little cracks shrink, then close and fade from sight. The hole in his chest dwindled, dwindled, then finally vanished completely. His skin regained its alabaster luster, veins pulsating rapidly. He fell back, groaning and weak, but I knew that he would live.

  My son would live!

  The Strix, which I had spat upon his wounds, crystalized after his injuries had healed. It turned to a fine, ash-like powder and fell away from his flesh. I helped the boy to sit up.

  “Father?” he groaned, disoriented and weak.

  “Here, Ilio, drink some more. You were terribly injured. You need blood to regain your strength.”

  “What happened? I can’t remember.”

  “Drink first, then we will talk.”

  He bent his lips to the animal’s neck, and I held the boy in my arms like a babe, making sure he drained the calf to the very last drop. I held him tight, shaken by how close to death he had come.

  When at last the ordeal was over, and he swore he could drink no more, I helped him to his feet, asking him repeatedly if he was all right, if he was strong enough to walk.

  “Yes! Yes, I am fine!” he exclaimed, pushing my hands away from him. He swayed drunkenly, but I restrained myself. He did not want me to fuss over him. He was ashamed, embarrassed, and my concern was only making it worse, but I could not help myself. I had nearly lost him.

  “Come, let us return to camp,” I said gently. “You need to rest.”

  Hanging his head in humiliation, he stumbled along beside me.

  The mighty hunter… defeated by a cow!

  12

  Ilio was weak and withdrawn the three nights that followed. Though his physical body healed completely, his failure hunting the aurochs was a terrible blow to his ego. He moped. He was sullen and uncommunicative.