My Love Eternal

by Liz Strange

  All the way down the hall I felt eyes burning into my back. I was afraid to look back and find someone else I cared about lurking there. We stopped in the large family room, downstairs, where Giovanni led me to the couch. It was a large, overly embellished flowered number, sagging from years of use. When we sat I smelled a strange scent that reminded me of the hospital.

  “Are you all right now?” His voice was bright with concern.

  “Yes. I don’t know what happened. I was just pushing her back onto the bed and then her face… changed. It was horrible.”

  “I don’t know how to explain this, but I think that the stress of changing, and the story of Seraphine and her family has put too much pressure on you. It’s bringing out your own fears and guilt about leaving your family behind.” His look was still grim, and made my heart ache.

  I wrapped my arms around him, and squeezed him as if I would never let go. We held each other in that dark and silent farmhouse, taking the reassurance only we could give each other.

  Slowly he pulled out of my grasp and kissed me quickly on the mouth. “Just stay here. There are a few things I need to do.”

  I nodded, happy to have a moment to myself. I was still unnerved by my experience. I guess I hadn’t even considered that vampires could be afraid, or have remorse. I didn’t realise that even in my undead state that I could become stressed and unnerved. There were many things I would need to learn and experience before I could be completely sure of myself. I didn’t want to be a hindrance. It was a powerful and humbling feeling to know that insecurities and faults belonged to those such as we are.

  A large display cabinet stood across from the couch where I sat, and something on it caught my eye. I went over and picked up the object, turning it over delicately in my hand. It was a snow globe, with a tiny, cherubic figure dancing across a snowy landscape. I shook it and smiled as the fake snow swirled about. I had loved snow globes as a child, and remembered the fear of being caught after I accidentally broke one as a young girl.

  The top of a piano was filled with cards. I picked them up, reading the sentiments of people I would never know and feeling oddly envious. Would we ever be able to settle somewhere and enjoy holidays like this, even if only the two of us? What, if anything, did vampires celebrate?

  Then I picked up a homemade card with a peculiarly drawn Santa on the front, and eight brown objects with spider-like legs that could only be reindeer. Inside, written in large childish scrawl, was To Granny and Grandpa. Merry Christmas. I love you. Janice. I dropped the card as if it was on fire, and scrambled across the room.

  What was wrong with me? One minute I didn’t care who I killed, the next I was crippled with guilt over the loss of a child’s grandparent. I needed to get it together.

  Overhead, came the sounds of drawers being opened and closed. Items were shuffled about and doors slammed. The tiny nativity figures displayed on the scarred coffee table shook with the vehemence of the slamming, and the figure of Mary toppled over. I guiltily replaced her to her proper position. What would these people have thought about the existence of creatures such as us, against their Christian beliefs?

  Soon Giovanni’s footsteps came down the staircase. He appeared in the doorway, and eyed me strangely in my position by the tiny nativity figures. Anger was tight in my chest as I stood there, looking at those people’s decorations, knowing that their molested bodies lay upstairs. An overwhelming impulse to flee, to run into the night until the sun started its ascent filled me. I felt shame at still being there in their home, while he rummaged through their personal belongings.

  Giovanni must have sensed my discomfort. He cast a worried look in my direction. “I was just looking around to decide on the best way to dispose of the bodies.”

  “Haven’t we done enough to these poor people?”

  “We can’t leave their bodies like that. There will be too many questions, and if it gets into the news it could help direct Bertrande onto our trail.”

  “Of course.” I sighed.

  “Rachel, this is the way it must be. We need blood to survive, and sometimes that means people will die. You said you understood that before I brought you over. These people were old. Look around you— they obviously had a good life, had children and grandchildren.”

  “Okay,” I agreed angrily. “So what were you doing up there? Why were you looking through their stuff?”

  He held a package of paper out. “I was looking to see if this place was insured. I thought that the best way to deal with this would be to start a fire. It would cover all the evidence, but I wanted to make sure that these people’s family members would receive some benefit from it. Not everything I do is selfish.”

  His words stung. It could have been merely a statement about his actions that night, or he could have been referring to Seraphine. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m acting this way.”

  “Forget about it. We need to get this done and get back on the road.”

  He disappeared again, this time to the house’s basement. I heard the creaking of the wooden steps, and snap of the electrical panel being opened. Almost immediately there was the distinct smell of something burning. He raced back to me, and we made our hasty retreat to the car.

  We found our way back to the highway, and continued our westward escape until there was only about an hour’s worth of night left. Giovanni pulled off at a seedy-looking motel with half of the lights in its roadside sign burnt out. It was the type of place where rooms could be rented by the hour, and the man at the counter had no trouble with the odd hours for which we would need the room. Giovanni paid the man in cash, slipping him a little extra to make sure we were not disturbed, and got our key. The greasy, ferret-faced man watched as Giovanni returned to the truck, and he followed our movement around the back of the building. I’m sure he assumed I was a paid companion, or that we were cheating spouses of some kind.

  The room was just as one would expect it to be, but even more disgusting with our heightened eyesight to pick out the incriminating layer of filth covering everything. An orange shag carpet had a style that had been popular several decades ago, and looked as if it hadn’t been vacuumed since it had been installed. A double bed boasted a cheap polyester cover and flat pillows. The TV was bolted to the table where it sat. The only other piece of furniture in the room was a bedside table, which held the phone and the remote. It was depressing to say the least.

  Giovanni quickly latched the door and pulled the curtains closed. He then pushed the bed up against the door to add more reinforcement than the cheap chain lock would afford. Then he snatched the covers and pillows from the bed and took them into the tiny bathroom. The small space had no window, and the bare bulb cast a sickly yellow glow about the space. The sink was chipped and a wide ring of grime stained the tub’s perimeter. He placed a blanket on the tub’s bottom then laid the pillows and cover on top. He shut the door behind me.

  Together we lay in the filthy tub wrapped with musty-smelling covers. The narrow space forced our bodies tightly together, with my head cradled in the crook of his shoulder and chest. He played with my hair, and fluttered soft kisses across my forehead. I forced myself to concentrate on the comfort of being in his arms, pushing aside all thoughts of our pursuit and my strange reactions.

  “You never explained what happened to the one who changed you, or how the Desmarais family figured out it was you who killed the girl.”

  “Tomorrow, my love. I have talked enough of this for one night,” he murmured.

  “I’m sorry for your pain, Giovanni. I’m glad that you shared your story with me, and that you felt that you were able to trust me with this. The past is the past, and whoever we may have been before now is gone. We’re together now, and we can deal with whatever happens.”

  “Sometimes the past has a way of stealing your future,” he said sadly. I trailed off into sleep with those words replaying in my mind. I dreamt of blood and lust, and the loss of something that was never mine to begin with.<
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  Chapter 10

  I awoke with a sharp jolt of panic. I shook my head and pulled my knees up to my chest for comfort. The porcelain was cold against my back, but did not chill me. My body temperature was not much warmer than the tub, and temperature in general did not seem to register easily with my vampire physiology. I leant back and closed my eyes.

  In an instant they were open again. I was alone in the tub and I sat bolt upright, looking for Giovanni.

  I came from the bathroom into the larger room, which had definitely not become more appealing or cleaner during our slumber. The bed had been returned to its original position, but the curtains were still drawn, and after I tested the door I discovered the lock was still engaged. As I lifted my hand from the knob, I heard someone’s fast approach toward the door. From the lightness of his steps and the lack of heartbeat, I quickly determined it was Giovanni. In another room a television blared, and to my distaste I overheard the couple occupying the room engaging in sloppy, enthusiastic sex.

  The door opened inward. Giovanni smiled as he found me sitting on the edge of the bed. “I took a quick look around, and I didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary.” His attention flickered, and I surmised that he had become aware of the couple in the other room. He looked back to my solemn face. “We shouldn’t feed here.”

  “I don’t want to feed yet,” I said. “I want you.”

  With smooth, feline grace he came to the bed, his coat dropping to the floor. Slowly he removed his clothing until he was standing completely naked before me. I wrapped my arms around his waist, and licked along his bare stomach. His hands found my arms, and he gently raised me to my feet. Slowly, teasingly he removed my clothing, kissing me deeply between each item. By the time I was undressed I was shaking with need. I throbbed with the desire to have him inside me.

  We fell back against the bare mattress, with no need for words. His urgency met mine as he pushed himself inside my body. I cried out. He took his time, savouring each kiss, each thrust. This time there was no violence, no painful memories to flash over my pleasure. We were lost to each other. I drank in ecstasy from his body, and love and desire from his mind. It was a connection so intensely intimate and primal I knew there could only ever be him.

  We lay naked in the dark. The sounds of passing cars from the highway spilled in occasionally, reminding us that we were not entirely alone in the world.

  “We should go.” Giovanni’s tone did not support the statement.

  I physically forced myself to move from his arms. Once dressed, we went to the car then he drove us around to the front office. After checking out, we returned to the road, putting several hours’ distance between the motel and us. The sex had calmed me somewhat, but the thirst was building. I held my hands together in my lap, clenching my teeth painfully. My fangs erupted and I rubbed them feverishly over my bottom lip. Occasionally Giovanni glanced in my direction. I saw the movement from my peripheral vision but I did not meet his gaze.

  When I thought I could stand it no more, he pulled off at a small gas station rest stop that had seen better days. It had two pumps and the windows advertised cigarettes and cola. He pulled some money from his pocket and told me to go inside to pay the clerk. I looked at him warily, my body tensed with unrelenting need. Giovanni looked very nonchalant as he unscrewed the cap from the gas tank, and began to refuel the car. He leant back against the side of the truck and looked off across the shadowy horizon.

  The gravel crunched loudly under my shoes as I made my way to the front door. A cowbell jangled overhead as I entered, the sound grating and excruciating to my sensitive ears. I knew my need to feed was exaggerating my response to external stimuli, but I did not have enough control to apply that knowledge practically. The overhead light was too bright.

  From the counter, the man watched my approach. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously as I neared. I knew my appearance must have been alarming to him. He probably though I was junkie, and was worried that he might be about to be robbed. “You all right there?” he asked in a deep, raspy voice.

  I didn’t answer, but watched as he stubbed out his cigarette into an already overflowing ashtray. A radio played a news report, the volume turned down low, yet to me it was still blatantly loud. I silently took in the old-fashioned cash register, the half-eaten bag of pretzels and the sprinkling of dandruff on the man’s shoulders. His face was unshaven, his grey-brown hair thinning. Bruise-like bags discoloured the skin under his hazel eyes and his fingers were heavily stained with nicotine.

  I placed some money on the counter and he looked at it as if I had offered him something offensive. “He’s not done pumping.” He looked out the window to where Giovanni stood.

  The room became suffocatingly tight. I knew what was about to happen and I was powerless to stop it. A part of me— the dominant part— didn’t want to stop it. The man returned his attention to me, the first inkling of real fear in his eyes. His body emitted an odour of anxiety, and it only pushed me further over the edge. “Hey now, little lady,” he started in a shaky voice. He took a tentative step backward, connecting with the shelves of tobacco products lined behind him. Several packages fell to the floor but he didn’t dare take his eyes away from me.

  I caught him in my stare, just like the stereotypical deer in the headlights. His tongue twitched and saliva beaded up in the corners of his mouth. The pulsing vein in his neck excited my already combustible state. I leapt over the counter with one fluid movement, landing mere inches from where he stood. He moaned as I touched his cheek with my cold hand. His eyes filled with tears.

  I snatched his arm with my small hand, twisting it until something snapped. As I forced him to his knees, I became intoxicated by his fear. Distantly the meter made a soft ping, indicating that Giovanni had finished fuelling the truck. I wanted him so badly I was trembling.

  I could hold back no longer. I clamped my mouth onto his neck, and my fangs ripped through his malleable flesh. I drank, the maddening need easing with every second. His blood filled my stomach, and warmed my body as my venous system spread the nourishment to all areas of my body. My mind rolled with pleasure, and I was able to think coherently again. In minutes his body sagged in my grip. As the last drop was drawn I became aware again of the scent of sweat and tobacco.

  I knew Giovanni was there before I saw him. I felt his approval and saw his smile flash in my mind. I dropped the body among the spilled cigarette butts and packages that had tumbled from the shelves during my attack. I stood savouring the moment, empowered with the man’s blood. When my eyes opened I looked down on his wasted body sprawled on top of the mess and smiled. I felt nothing but satisfaction. There was no remorse, or shame.

  That was the moment I truly became a creature of the night. That was the moment I knew that not only could I kill impartially, but that I enjoyed it.

  I jumped back over the counter to Giovanni’s waiting arms. Without words he understood that my transformation was complete. As the door of the building closed behind us, all the ghosts of my former self remained trapped behind.

  The snow was falling again, and like a child I stuck out my tongue to catch the icy flakes. I learnt many things in those brief moments inside. I discovered the true meaning of the lifestyle to which I had willingly handed myself over to. I understood the allure of power and dominance, and I learnt that my love was patient and understanding, that he would not force me, or manipulate my feeling for him. He would let me come to things on my own terms. Yet, above all else, I was able to see the fierceness and strength in myself Giovanni recognised and encouraged.

  “I had a look around while you were inside. There is an apartment in the back. It’s empty. The man must have lived here alone. Why don’t we go back there and get cleaned up?”

  “Okay.”

  He pulled some clothing from our bags in the car, which he then handed to me. He walked back into the building, leaving me outside in the dancing snow. The outside lights began to turn off, one by one, until
the building was dark. It would have been unnoticeable from the highway at night.

  He joined me shortly and we stole around the side of the building, to a rickety-looking staircase. A battered wooden door stood at the top. Giovanni pushed it open, exerting little force to break the lock free.

  Inside was a single room with a living room-bedroom area sectioned off from the kitchen by a narrow counter. To the right of the doorway, was another smaller door leading to the unit’s bathroom. The space was as filthy as the motel room. Dirty dishes were stacked everywhere, among empty fast food containers and multiple ashtrays. The air was damp and smelled like week-old garbage. There was absolutely nothing in that place I would want to touch any part of my body. I looked to Giovanni but he only shrugged, an amused expression on his face.

  Viewed under the harsh light of the bathroom fixture, I looked like something out of a horror movie. The bottom half of my face was covered with drying blood, starting to turn from red to brown. The rest of my face was a smooth, ivory canvas, with ice-blue eyes shining back at me. My hair was a mess, matted and flat from sleeping in the cramped bathtub. Yet I was still beautiful.

  I removed my clothes and handed them to Giovanni. He was standing in the small room, obviously as disturbed by the thought of touching anything as I was. I stepped into the shower stall where the tiles were outlined with black mildew and turned on the water. I used the small lump of congealed soap to wash my face, and managed to squeeze enough shampoo from the bottle to lather my hair. I stepped, somewhat refreshed and definitely cleaner, but couldn’t find anything to dry myself on. I walked out into the main room, and Giovanni handed me a small dishtowel that looked clean and I used that to pat myself dry.