The Long Cold Night........

In the frenzied hours after she fled, I paced the floor of the market pouring over every word that was spoken, every glance and every breath taken; looking for the reason of her sudden and complete departure, but finding none. Even in the time it took me to walk to the door and open it, hoping to catch a glimpse of her and with luck, a name, she was gone; no, not just gone, almost as if she were never there. I sit, distracted as I dissect every nuance, every subtlety of her being, searching for the meaning in all of this. The attraction to this girl was undeniable, the mere fact that I could not think of anything but her was disturbing, yet in its own way, strangely peaceful. It silenced the normal cacophony that was ever-present within my mind. I must find her. I draw upon my animal senses and breathe in, picking out her scent and preparing to use its aroma to track her. The scent is pleasantly unique; something in it makes me smile as I recognize the undertones, floral and heady. Her scent beckons me on, as I follow its lead blindly. The back streets and alleys she trod bringing me closer and closer as her scent slowly and steadily became stronger. I know not how long I tracked her, but I relished my determination when at last her countenance came into view.

She glances at me over her shoulder and gives me a sly grin, dark hair flowing carelessly about her shoulders and down her back as she raises her face to the waxing moonlight and closes her eyes. Her lips, so red they resemble polished ruby, purse tightly together as she pulls deeply into her lungs, the cool night air. Seeming to gain strength from the night and the moons ghastly luminescence, she gives me another glance and dashes off into the dark. Her long silent strides waft her off effortlessly into the alley, but where she stood just a moment before, something small and dark lies. Something she dropped before her egress into the night. Something she left on purpose. Something she left, for me.

Her laughter echoes behind her down the alley, but no more do I hear her light steps. Either she has stopped or is long gone, neither matters much to me at the moment, for I know that I could easily track her again, however my focus is elsewhere. I cautiously approach the object on the ground. Nearing it, a smile fills my face, for without even discerning with my eyes what lay on the ground, it's scent gives it away; her scent. I bend and softly grasp the stem, bringing up to my face the blood red rose. Staring into the darkness that enveloped her so fully, I can see naught of her. Luckily, my senses illuminate the dark recesses of the night, and to those senses I welcome the sweet reply I'd hoped for. She is still here.

My smile becomes broader as I ponder what all this means, still breathing in the dark aroma of the rose. Without thinking I spin the stem between my fingers and feel the bittersweet pain as the thorn penetrates my skin. I return abruptly to a conscious state and see the droplet, as shiny and dark as the polished ruby of her lips, drop from my hand, and I imagine her once again, somewhere hidden in the shadows, breathing in the air of the night. Almost as if her senses found the scent of my blood on the wind, and she was retrieving the scent, committing it to her memory as I had done with her.

The pursuit she leads me on takes me deep into the bowels of the city, places that I know well, not only in my travels, but in my hunger. The derelict buildings, the dirty streets lined with refuse, and the even dirtier alleys that seem so abundant here; their occupants lining the dank corridors with their shelters of cardboard and hopes of ash. If you wanted to lose someone and were not afraid of losing quite a bit more, this was the place to do it. My duster hanging loose and open, I feel the knives strapped to my belt and legs, all easily accessible but hidden by the length of the coat, Not that I would need such instruments, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

Rounding a corner I still have her scent.

The dull and burned out streetlights barely let their presence be known, but in their defense, their almost nonexistent luminescence helps to hide the blood on my clothing; and after my last encounter, any help being inconspicuous, was good. Closer… Entering an alley, I sense her near. The gloom, tinged red with the flashing of a neon sign, acted as an omen to those that might venture too deeply into this world. It's the only thing out of place, aside from the fact that I don't recall a club being here before, but the shining bright beacon in the night explains that. This club was new, and the name hid nothing of its true purpose. Lamia’s Seduction.

Aptly named for a club in this part of the city, Lamia, a Queen known for eating children, like the lost found down these dark passages; lost and devoured. In the back of my mind I wonder who would open a such a den in this repository of human despair and dereliction, but my senses are tuned and honed on one thing, Her. That sultry voice, those dark eyes, the way she toyed with me, asking, no, enticing me to follow her. Closing on the club the sounds of music and voices filter out to me, and the scent, her scent… with a slight tinge of something else…the sweet coppery scent of blood. Pausing in my reach for the handle on the large wooden door, I suddenly snap back to myself and quickly realize where I am. I scan the area looking for anything out of place, in the back of my mind, and now in front of my face, the flashing red sign, Lamia……Lamia……Lamia…… How could I have been so distracted as to not sense my surroundings, even the name was a dead giveaway, but her scent was like a drug that had dulled all other senses. While continuing to scanning the alley and searching for anything hidden within the shadows, I do, to my dismay, sense something else, something that chills my blood… The sounds of gaiety that were only moments before emanating from within the club had ceased, along with the music. The blasphemous congregation within knew I was there… The Vampir had caught my scent.

2

The Red

Complete and utter realization fills me. So poignant was our first meeting and I did not even see it. All of it making sense now, but it may all be for naught for I now find that I have walked right into the lion’s den and have kicked the brooding beast the face. The hunter, now becoming the hunted.

I scramble as quickly as possible from the front door, my feet leaving the ground as I jump, clearing the rail and landing in a puddle. The neon sign shimmering in the disturbed water around my boots as I search for a defendable position to take. I smell her scent, but more, I smell her blood; it has already begun.

I breathe in deeply as the front door flies open, the first of the many Vampir I would face tonight rushes out. Their teeth and nails sharp as they seek me out. Their anger great as their undead eyes find what has dared to enter their territory, a Lycan. My blood swells my veins and the heat rises, I lower my head knowing what I must do in order for her to survive; I must draw upon the Red. That curse of my Ancestors that made all the stories of our kind reality. The Rage that would drive us, control us when we were in dire need or danger. The curse that I have had to deal with, day in and day out, for every moment of this blighted life. Without a thought I find my knives already in hand, I prepare to dance, and breathing deeply once more, I hold the burning breath locked within my enraged chest. My vision blurs as I feel the first of the attackers strike, the blood flowing freely from the torn skin at my side, yet the pain which seared only a moment ago ceases, and in its place, a numb warmth begins to pass over me. My hands tighten about the grips of the knives I hold and I feel the blades almost become a part of me. The next attack comes and all I feel is the pressure, as whatever was used pushes into my arm, breaking skin, tearing tissue, and causing my body to shift slightly; the pain no longer playing a part in this macabre dance. My last conscious memory, my last thought, saving her, and in turn I knew somehow, saving myself.

My eyes open to see the Red.

My eyes open to see her.

I open my eyes to immense pain and a weight pressing down on me. Lying on my back I groan as my eyes clear and my focus comes back, I see her. Her body lies on top of me, my aching arms protectively encompassing her still frame. I start to smile as I realize I am still alive and I have saved her, then my heart almost stops as I feel not a single movement, not even a breath. Painfully I force my arms to release the still form and push myself up. I cradle her and in the dim light I see the damage, my heart sinking as I see small rivulets of blood escaping through torn flesh.

A gut wrenching cry like I had never heard in my life filled the air, and only upon it ceasing do I realized it was issuing fourth from my own chest. I lift her frail and broken body and cradle it to me, embracing her and sobbing. Her scent and that of her blood fill my senses, but I also smell the pungent aroma of garlic… I still my own sobs and listen… There, I am sure I heard it, faint, there again, a heartbeat. I painfully lay her down in the dim light of the still flashing neon sign, hanging askew, but still lit; I inspect her injuries by its eerie red light.

Garlic, of course, they wanted to make sure that her body would die before it could heal and replenish the blood they took from her. The taste of garlic fills my mouth as I work feverishly at cleaning her wounds, my tongue lapping at each wound, starting with the worst, in its turn and watching them begin to mend before moving to the next. Moving down to her inner thigh I see the arterial bite weeping slowly, I lap at the blood and essence of garlic and feel her leg twitch. I continue to clean till I taste no trace of garlic and pull my head back, watching, waiting…. Nothing… it fails to begin to mend. I look to the wound on your jugular that just minutes before was beginning to mend, and find it is no longer mending, it stood open and wept very little, her body was running dry. My body weak from my blood loss just mere minutes ago had begun to feel better. My wounds had begun to heal and my clarity of mind more present but I was still too weak to hunt. Her blood and the amount I had ingested, had she been a true Vampir would surely have killed me, even still her having Vampir genes should have put me at least in dire consequences, but it did not. If anything I felt stronger, I felt infused with an energy that I had never felt before, it was clearly her blood that had brought me out of my stupor and helped to heal my wounds as quickly as they had; but all of this did not help her, she needed blood, and not in twenty minutes, she needed it now.

I placed my head in my hands, shaking with a rage that went beyond mere anger but crossed into the realm of deep painful emotion. My hands were tied, though I had no choice but one. As her blood should have had dire effects on me, mine in turn, should have the same effects on her, and in her current state should certainly put an end to her. The mere thought of killing her with my blood was overwhelming, as I knew it would also be the end of my life, I would make sure of it. Carefully I lifted her head and resting her neck upon my arm, opening her mouth, I slid one of my razor sharp k9’s through my wrist. The crimson red ribbon of blood began to flow from my arm as I placed my wrist over her open lips. At first there was no response from her lifeless body, and a deluge of tears sprang from my own eyes, but through the weeping fog I saw and felt her body quake. The beautiful mouth that was almost overflowing with my spent blood just a moment ago was now empty as more blood took its place. I wiped the tears from my eyes on the shoulder of my tattered and torn coat, and watched with elation as the second mouthful disappeared. Placing my wrist down to her lips I laugh madly at death and the fact that I snatched her out of his grip tonight. At least the life she had was still hers. He lost and we had won…

After several minutes I began to feel her stir and her lips begin to suck harder on my wrist, I felt the sharp but beautiful sting as her teeth pierced the skin and begin to draw my blood more freely. Her eyes open and I wonder if they are seeing anything, as they are black as night. Her body in a state of repair, saving all its reserve energy for its basic needs, I doubt she will even be able to remember a thing as to what has happened here tonight. I watch with a growing pride, not only of me saving her, but a pride for her as I watch her tattered body beginning to mend itself again. The jugular spraying slightly before I place my free hand over it, the blood stopping within a few seconds, and the skin knitting itself back together. Before the open femoral artery inside her leg can begin to spray I slide my hand over it and hope that I can retain the blood long enough for it to heal over. Within seconds I feel the blood slipping between my fingers, then just as fast, I felt flow stop. Looking over her body I see marks, I see a mass of clotted blood and torn clothing, but from her I see no other injuries. I place her down and remove her still hungry mouth from my wrist. I know she needs more, but I cannot afford to pass out here and have us found by any late arriving Vampir. I give her a good going over, and only find one minor bite that was still bleeding as it was still doused the essence of garlic. Not deep or into an artery, I clean it and watch it heal over. The wonderful taste of her blood once again on my lips and in my body.

Sure that she was safe, I take one more walkthrough of the decimated club, my eyes scanning every nook and cranny, every shadow seeking out any concealed undead that may tell a story of what had happened. I look for anything that she may have left behind, as I wanted nothing to be tied back to her. Finishing my search, I exit the building picking up the bodies from the front street and throw them into the club. Making sure that her convalescing form is at a safe distance, I set a match to the club and watch for a moment as the building is engulfed in the cleansing flames.

Picking her up, I work my way down the darkening alley, leaving the red and amber flames dancing on the club and mirrored in the ever dimming shadows reflected upon the dirty walls of the buildings; the market, our destination. Setting her down I secure the solid front doors and carry her up to the tub. Placing her in a warm bath, I strip and clean her, dressing her in some fresh clothing. After tending to myself, I prepare a decanter of my blood for her, placing it on the bedroom nightstand beside the bed I tucked her into, knowing she will be weak and thirsty when she comes around. I sit in the only chair in the room, and wait, caring for my own wounds that don’t seem to have fully healed yet, waiting for her…

*** Wren.