My eyes wandered over the dark room, sluggishly lit by a candle on top of a wooden dresser. The body of a female lay on the floor next to a dingy, unmade bed. The sweet aroma I smelled came from that direction and without thinking I moved toward it, finding that my body slouched slightly in a full-blown hunting stance. When I reached the body, I immediately recognized her.
“Samantha?” It didn't look like my best friend whom I'd known for a few years. She had two puncture wounds on the left side of her neck. Her eyelids fluttered. I heard something else: a cadence noise that didn't match that of her breathing. I called out her name again and this time she managed to open her eyes. Upon seeing my face, a weak smile appeared on her own and she lifted her hand to touch the scar on my left cheek.
I heard footsteps behind me and quickly her smile disappeared, replaced by a look of fear. The male grabbed my arm to pull me away from her but I didn't want to go with him. I shook his hand off me and something inside me told me to strike. I made a fist with my right hand and I punched, hitting him across the face. The blow pushed him back into the air and onto the floor.
My strength surprised me. I wasn't a fighter. I'd never punched anyone or anything before. I could barely get the males off of me when they came for their daily service. I stared at my hand as if it weren’t my own and I turned back to Samantha who looked back at me in horror.
“Your eyes, Maris! Your eyes!”
I rubbed my eye, thinking that she referred to an object on my face but I didn't find anything. I didn't understand why she would look at me in such a way.
She began to crawl away from me, screaming, “Get away from me, demon!”
Demon? I didn't see any demon around me. I didn't believe in those religious figures or anything having to do with Christianity in general.
The male I'd punched stood to his feet and laughed. His eyes had the color of charcoal and two pointed fangs extended from his mouth. He was the demon!
I moved back and heard a deeper, more mature female voice coming from the other room signaling for us to stop. Immediately the boy's eyes reverted back to brown and his sharp teeth withdrew back into his mouth.
An older adult woman stood in the doorway with her hands straight to her sides. Initially I thought she was their mother, which also made her a demon, but something else startled me about her, something that I couldn't explain. I felt nothing but joy and a sense that I was safe. I stared at her long dark hair and big brown eyes. Her stained red lips were slightly parted and she wore a beautiful dark blue two piece, full buttoned jacket complete with an overskirt skirt bustled at the rear. A feeling of protectiveness—that I had to somehow accept her dominance over me, submerged my thoughts. I didn't fear her. I wanted to be near her. I felt like I belonged with her.
“Don't be scared, Maris.” The woman walked forward and she looked immediately to the male and the two females. “You've met my offspring. This is Finley,” —she pointed to the boy—“this is Branda,”—she pointed to the taller girl—“and this is her twin sister Brandy,”—she pointed to the remaining girl. She then pointed to herself. “I'm Anastasia.” She extended out her arms to me, waiting for me to embrace her. Instead, I had questions and concerns for Samantha.
“What did you do to her?” I asked.
“In due time,” Anastasia replied. “First you have to make your eyes change back and retract your teeth.”
I didn't know what she meant by that until Finley left the room and returned with a hand mirror. He held it in front of my face and I suddenly knew why Samantha had become so afraid of me. My eyes were black, just like Finley's eyes had been moments ago. Two medium-length fangs protruded from my gums, hiding my human canines. I also noticed the long jagged scar on my left cheek reminding me of the attack back at the brothel.
“What's happening to me?” I searched my face and touched my fangs. They were extremely sharp. “What did you do to me?” I asked her.
“I saved you from the vampires.”
“Vampires?” I stared long and hard at myself. “Am I a vampire?” I didn't want to believe what stared back at me in the mirror. Why had this happened to me? What happened to me to make me look so different?
“No. I made sure of that,” she said. “You must be starving now.” She walked over to me. “Eat.” She forced me to turn back around and face Samantha. I felt Anastasia place her head on my shoulder and a voice penetrated my thoughts.
Drink her blood.
Any other day, I would've run for my life away from these new people. Drinking blood wasn't normal. Part of me knew it wasn't right but another part of me wanted to gorge. No longer did I see Samantha. Instead I saw a body, full of blood, waiting to be taken. I hungered for it, I craved it. I wanted it more than ever.
Immediately I was on top of her with my teeth embedded into her neck. I felt the warm blood oozing down my throat, squeezing at my desires, making me want more. Samantha tried to scream but instinctively, I knew to cover her mouth with my other hand. I heard the patterned bumps echoing from her chest beginning to slow until I couldn't hear them anymore. I continued, drinking until I felt full. But I still wanted more.
That's when Anastasia pulled me away. “She's dead,” she said.
I felt the warm liquid dripping from the corners of my mouth and I looked at my blood covered hands. “If I'm not a vampire then what am I?” I looked over my shoulder at Anastasia, hoping she would answer.
“She is beautiful,” Anastasia said, acknowledging Finley's previous statement.
“What...am...I?” I slowly repeated.
“You're one of us, Maris,” she finally replied. “Ramanga Deamhan.”
CHAPTER TWO
My First Night As A Ramanga
That night, with my belly full, Anastasia revealed to me everything I needed to know about my new life. She explained in explicit detail how she stood across from the brothel every night for two weeks, secretly watching me. She saw me perform and cater to sex-hungry men. She'd been looking for me for a very long time. I was special and destined for great things. But she wasn't the only one interested in me. Several vampires had me on their radar.
Samantha had invited the vampires in. They'd fooled her, pretending to be new customers. Once Anastasia saw they had injured me, she barged in and killed them all. However, she came too late. I was dying and she needed me alive. Her blood couldn't heal me but it would change me into what she was.
With Finley's help, she took us to their home nestled in the basement of an abandoned mill house. There she suckled every drop of blood from me and she replaced it with her own, knowing that it took days for a human to be turned. It was a risk because most humans died during the transformation. However, my body proved to be stronger and able to adapt to the change. I guess I was lucky.
I heard the myths surrounding vampires but I heard nothing about Deamhan. Vampire lore existed since the beginning of mankind. Deamhan came shortly after. She said that Deamhan stuck to the shadows to hide their existence from humanity. They hunted sporadically and disposed of their victims carefully. They could read the thoughts of humans and their own and they could also block their own thoughts from being read as well. Ramanga Deamhan was just one of the four types—clans of Deamhan that I had to be aware of. We were Ramanga, the ones who survived off the psychic essence in the blood of our victims. There was also Lamia, Metusba, and Lugat. We all had the same strengths and weaknesses but our ages played a big part in it. As a young Deamhan, I'd burn faster in the sunlight than she would. I would never be stronger than her and I needed more energy than she did to sustain myself.
Deamhan had rules, The Dictum, that Ancients, the oldest Deamhan on the planet, enforced. These ten important rules helped us to adapt to the always changing world we lived in. However, Anastasia personally didn't like those rules and she felt the Ancients only created them to keep other Deamhan in check. But in order to maintain a good relationship with the Ancient Deamhan in the city, she pretended to care. She did obey one rul
e that stated that once an Ancient declared a Decretum, all Deamhan had to obey. An Ancient declared a Decretum on me. The sole purpose was to find me before the vampires did and protect me from any harm. When I questioned why, she moved onto the next subject immediately.
Besides vampires, The Brotherhood, a group of humans who made it their job to know everything about Deamhan, worried her the most. She described them as persistent, annoying, and sometimes vindictive. They worked with the vampires against us, which made them our enemy. But not all vampires worked with The Brotherhood, just vampires from the Dorvo Coven.
At first none of this mattered to me. The only thing I cared about was my next meal; human or animal—it didn't matter to me. Anastasia ended our conversation by ordering Finley to go into the other room and bring out some clothing she'd picked out for me. I still had to feed and she would take me to find humans so I could be prepared just in case the vampires came back. She later disappeared to dress herself in her evening wear for the night.
I stood alone, staring at my new Deamhan family. I wanted to know about them but I sensed that Branda, the taller twin, didn't like me as much as the others did. She stood with wide eyes, watching my every movement, until Brandy embraced me in a tight hug.
“We're siblings now.” She squeezed me then pulled back. “Come. Follow me. I'll help you freshen up.” She grabbed my hand, took me up a steep flight of wooden stairs, and yanked me outside into the cool air. We walked to the back of our quarters, heading toward a metallic tub filled with water. She undressed me, gathered my clothing, and placed it in a burlap bag. I heard a dull thud and I turned to see the small green crescent shaped amulet my mother gave me roll toward Brandy's feet.
Ever since my mother's death, I kept her amulet close to me at all times. I didn't know much about it, only that it was a family heirloom, handed down from mother to daughter. She always wore it around her neck, saying that the amulet provided protection but she didn't know from what.
“That's pretty.” Brandy pointed to it. “Where did you get it?”
“My mother gave it to me.” I placed the amulet next to the tub. “Family heirloom. She said it was for protection.” I chuckled at the thought. “It didn't protect me from the vampires.”
“My mother never gave me anything,” Brandy replied.
“It's probably just some old dinky jewelry.” I climbed into the tub, noticing that the cold water had a weird effect on my skin. She began to bathe me, pouring the water over my head to wet my hair.
“Your sister doesn't like me.” I closed my eyes as the water poured over my face.
“She doesn't like a lot of people,” Brandy said. “She didn't like Finley at first. Sometimes I feel that she doesn't like me. You know, she was Anastasia's favorite until you came along.”
“Favorite?”
“Yes.” She began to wash my back. “The one that Anastasia feels most bonded to.”
“What do you mean ‘bonded’?”
Brandy paused in her activities. “When you're sired, you feel connected to the one who sired you. In this case, that’s Anastasia. You feel like you'd do anything for her. You'd die for her.” She resumed rubbing the rag over my skin and she lifted my arm. “Some bonds are stronger than others. You can create bonds with others as well.”
“Others? Like humans?”
Brandy laughed girlishly. “I'm unsure about bonding with humans. Anastasia said you were special and that Deamhan had to find you at any cost. Now that she has, you have all of her attention.”
“Why?” I asked. “Who was the Ancient that told you to find me?”
“I don't know. She's never told us.” She scrubbed my arm from the shoulder to the wrist and I closed my eyes. With my senses now heightened, every touch felt euphoric to me.
“How long have you been alive?” I asked her.
“My sister and I were sired about twenty years ago,” she replied.
I felt the cold water pour over my face again. I imagined Samantha and how good it felt drinking her dry. However, I felt no remorse for her death and that frightened me.
“Don't worry about that,” Brandy replied.
I quickly turned to face her. “Did you just read my mind?”
She nodded.
“How did you do that?”
“It's easy.”
“Can you teach me?”
“Just open your senses,” she said. “Once you do that, you can hear any thought, smell any smell and see far into the distance.”
It sounded easier said than done. I concentrated but heard nothing.
“Try again,” she told me. “This time imagine that you're reading my mind.”
I looked at her and followed her instructions. I heard small mumbles in an incoherent voice that I couldn't make out. It made me concentrate harder and soon I heard whispers coming to me from her direction.
“Now, think a thought and force it into my mind,” she said.
I thought about blood and my hunger and she picked up on it easily.
“If you want to block anyone from reading your mind, do what the humans from The Brotherhood do.”
“What's that?” I asked.
“They think about a brick wall. They picture it in their mind. Then when we try to read their mind, that's all we see.”
I let her continue to bathe me. With a small rag and a hard bar of soap, she lathered my chest. After rinsing me off, I stood up and she began to bathe my legs. She then handed me the wet rag. “You can do the rest, right?”
I cleaned myself and after I finished she grabbed another large rag on the floor next to the tub to dry me off. After grabbing the amulet, she walked back with me to our home and immediately she went to work on my hair. She moved quickly and all I saw was her blurry, rushed movements. They called it Deamhan speed, a speed faster than a human would ever move. She applied makeup to my face, covering the scar on my left cheek. She finished within seconds and handed me a mirror.
I loved the way I now looked. She pinned my brown hair near the top of my head and little curls extended out at all sides. No longer did I look dirtied and unkempt; I could pass for the wealthy citizens in London who lived in their fancy homes with their lap dogs and spoiled children. I dressed myself in a black dress and a white pinafore with shoes a little too big for my feet. I placed my mother's amulet around my neck and underneath my dress. I heard Finley behind me pick up Samantha's lifeless body and drape it over his shoulder before walking out the door.
Anastasia appeared from her bedroom, dressed as immaculately as ever. She wore a pinstripe blouse with a matching pinstripe dress that extended to her ankles. She completed her outfit with a dark belt and a yellow plume that adorned the top of her round, dark hat. She placed her hand on my back and she gently pushed me up to a beveled mirror in the corner of the room. There I took more time to admire my beauty.
The color in my eyes was keen-edged. My skin looked smooth and felt smooth as well. I found myself lost in the mirror image of myself, ignoring what was occurring behind me. Branda mumbled and stomped out of the room after Finley. I got the impression that she grew more jealous of the attention Anastasia gave me. Her sister Brandy left after her.
“I look so different.” I touched the white part of my eye and I rubbed the tip of my finger over my lips.
“You are different, Maris,” she replied.
The same sensation I felt in my stomach before began to bother me once again. “I think I'm hungry.”
“New Deamhan need to constantly feed on their first night.” Anastasia opened the door and waited for me. We left our small stuffed quarters and she closed the door behind us.
She took me out into the world; a new baby Deamhan. When we made it into the city, she took me St. Katherine Docks and we admired the huge ships docked to its pier. My senses became overwhelmed as I took in as many scents as I could. With the full moon high in the sky, its whitish glow glistening off the top of the water, I couldn't help but to think that now I had a purpose. I h
ad something to live for.
We continued and entered into the slums of London. Males of all statures and classes roamed the streets, some looking for prostitutes while others made their way to the local taverns. Groups of women, dressed whorishly, stood on the corners whistling at the men while they bartered their sex and time. A few families hurried down the cobblestone streets on their way home. I stared at everyone and everything, even the two policemen who ushered other humans to move along.
Anastasia didn't seem amused when a drunkard, lying across the sidewalk, came into view. She stepped over him and continued as if she didn't see him. I, on the other hand, eyed his drunken state and listened in on his heartbeat, smelling his strong scent of body odor and aging spit.
Anastasia acknowledged my interest in him and she questioned me. “You want him?”
I wasn't sure and I looked to her for help. Blood was blood to me, but I wanted the best that blood had to offer. I didn't want seconds and I didn't want tainted or sick blood.
“If you want him, take him now.” She looked around our environment. “No one is watching.”
I knelt beside the drunk, expecting him to jump at my unexpected appearance, but he didn't do anything. He mumbled a little, tried to keep his head stable, and he burped. I tilted his head to the right and I felt my sharp fangs drop from my gums. My eyes focused in on the veins beneath his skin traveling in intricate paths. I opened my mouth and I sank my teeth into his neck. When his blood hit my tongue, my body immediately absorbed it. It cruised down my throat, coating my insides like any sweet ambrosia would.
I continued, making sure I paid close attention to his heartbeat. I could continue to drink until there wasn't a drop left, but something in his blood made me immediately pull back. I began to feel sick and I didn't want any more. I stood to my feet and wiped the corners of my mouth. “He tastes funny.”
“He should. He is a drunkard, after all.” Anastasia scanned my face, looking for any sign of blood. “They are the worst, next to ailing humans.” She grabbed a small handkerchief from her purse and began to dab my mouth. “Their blood does not make a good meal.”
Deamhan Chronicles, Books 1-5: Deamhan, Kei. Family Matters, Dark Curse, Maris. The Brotherhood Files, Ayden. Deamhan Minion Page 55