"And by 'tuck you in' you mean 'bite you', yes?"
"Yes."
"I can do that."
* * * *
The trip was a whirlwind. I couldn't catch my breath. Edie was young enough she slept during the day, so we left her at Demetria's maison while the rest of us were out and about. Demetria and Cathalina both knew Paris like the back of their hands. They took me to all the tourist places, but they also knew the little cafes and the perfect places to listen to music.
Demetria, of course, had to cover herself carefully. While I'd been her blood slave, she rarely lingered outside during sunlight, so I hadn't realized just how carefully she avoided it. But it became obvious as we toured Paris, and she still stayed in the shadows.
Cathalina didn't seem to mind the sun at all, and when I asked her about it, she said, "I haven't feared the sun in a thousand years."
The statement was mind-boggling.
Each evening, I talked with Edie for a couple of hours, shortly after she woke, and then the four of us would go out on the town. Eventually, they would return me safely to the maison, and the lady would tuck me in.
I had nightmares, but if they were too bad, Cathalina would wake me up, glamour me, and I slept peacefully the remainder of the night.
Edie was very serious about it, but Demetria and Cathalina were there to have fun. They were filled with joy, and they took me to cafe after cafe, asking me to describe the foods.
"I love being a vampire," Demetria said. "But there are times I miss being human."
"Tell me about it," Cathalina said. "When we get to Greece, you are having baklava and gyros and..." She smiled. "And you will describe every bite."
"I wish I could paint what it tastes like," I said. "I'm sorry."
"What is that one?" Demetria asked, pointing.
"I think it's lemon. Would you like a bite?"
"Yes." She reached out and caressed my neck. "Later though."
Of course, we went the Louvre. We spent days. Demetria knew the curator, and we found ourselves with a private guide. But of course, both of them had lived through the history displayed and could offer details our guide couldn't. The guide asked if she could take notes.
I drew, but not often. In spite of what we were seeing, all the images were horrible. I could draw mechanically and produce accurate renditions, but I could have done that with a camera. It wasn't art.
I tried not to let them see me cry.
We took the train to Switzerland, riding in a special car Demetria chartered. The windows were darkened so she wouldn't burn. I spent part of the trip in one of the regular passenger cars simply so I could see the countryside in full daylight instead of the deeply muted colors passing through the tinted windows. We spent time in Berne and Geneva then climbed into the mountains.
Climbing Allalinhorn was amazing. One of Demetria's friends, a roguish vampire named Heinrich, served as guide and outfitter for us. We spent a couple of days in the valley at the base of the mountain, primarily so I could begin to grow accustomed to the elevation. We did a few day hikes partway up the mountain. Demetria literally covered every square inch of her skin in clothing, goggles, or thick sunscreen, and I discovered that Heinrich carried an emergency tarp for her, just in case.
She earned major points with me, risking her skin for me. When I told her that, she said, "I don't mind earning points, but there are reasons I knew this mountain existed. I've done this before."
"Have you climbed Everest?"
"No. Denali though."
She carried everything I needed. They let me carry one water bottle, and Heinrich watched carefully to made sure I drank it down, refilling it when it grew low. Heinrich gave elevations and distances in metric units, which was confusing to me, but I made do. Climbing at 3500 meters wasn't bad, but I definitely slowed well before we reached the top. Still, they didn't rush me and no one suggested I needed to be carried. Instead, they took turns urging me on. Nearly the entire route was over snow and ice, and Heinrich made sure we were well equipped. Furthermore, the vampires kept a careful watch on me.
During one rest stop, I told Heinrich, "I know we're fighting daylight. Will we make it?"
In his accented English he replied, "Yes. This is not a difficult climb, even for a new climber. You are in good shape. We may hurry you going downhill, which is technically more challenging. If necessary, one of us will carry you down."
"That would be so embarrassing," I said.
"I do not believe it will be necessary. There are portions of the mountains I would not want a human navigating at dusk. Once we are lower, we can be your eyes if necessary."
I did reach the top, and it was exhilarating. We took photos, many photos, and then Demetria smiled. "Heinrich, do we have time?"
"All the time you wish, but if we stay more than an hour, we may be carrying Frau Walsh for a portion of the descent."
Demetria was carrying a backpack. She slipped it off and then removed a small sketchpad and my pencils. I didn't know she had them. I smiled and took them from her then asked the three of them if they wanted to assume a single position for an hour. I knew that was nothing for a vampire. And so they stood, partially in profile to me, with the other mountains in the distance.
I did individual sketches of each of them, and they were relatively "normal". But then I did a final drawing, but instead of standing on a mountain, they were standing on a mountain of skulls. I didn't think it was very original. I let them each have the sketches I had done and hid the final drawing.
Still, it was an amazing day. The vampires had treated me very well, and with their help, I had climbed my first mountain. It wasn't Everest, but it was a real climb, and the view from the top had been amazing. I thanked all of them, both at the top and again when we reached the village at the end of the day. I was stiff and sore, but I felt a sense of elation at the same time.
Later that night, back in the chateau, Demetria asked to see the drawing.
"What drawing?"
"Don't 'what drawing' me," she said. "Yes or no. May I see it?"
I sighed and gave it to her.
I had drawn fairly quickly, so it wasn't that good. "What are you going to do with it?"
"Yours if you want it," I said. "It was drawn quickly. I was worried about time, and I grew chilly."
"This is what you saw? Didn't you have a good time?"
"Demetria, yes, I had a very good time." I was embarrassed. I had insulted her. I looked away, but she pulled me back to look at her.
"What's wrong now?"
"I'm afraid you'll think I don't appreciate what you've done. I do. All three of you were amazing."
"You are very effusive with your thanks," she said, "and we had a good time, too. Yes, we could have climbed much faster without you, but so what? It was a nice day to be outside. I spent a few hundred years not seeing the sunshine, at first because I would sleep all day, and then later because even indirect sunshine burned my eyes. It is only the last century and a half I have been able to do things like this, and I haven't done it anywhere near enough."
"Well, thank you for bringing me. This has been amazing trip."
"Did you get good photographs?"
"Yes," I said. "Did you want to see them?" She did, so I pulled out the tablet and went through them.
"Ah, this might be my favorite," I said. It was actually a fairly poor picture. "You and Cathalina were talking, I don't know about what, but you both looked so intense, so I had to take it."
Of course, you couldn't see either of them in the picture. "Funny. Very funny."
"This one is Heinrich," I said.
She cracked a smile. "Knock it off."
"All right. This next one is definitely Heinrich." I had taken a photo of the sketch, and she laughed.
"You have your sense of humor, but this is what you draw?"
"Even the insane can laugh," I replied. "I believe we're famous for it." I offered a maniacal laugh to demonstrate.
"What was that?"
&
nbsp; "That was my Renfield impression." I changed my voice. "When do I get to fondle Miss Mina Hawker?"
"I'm pretty sure Renfield never gets to fondle Miss Mina," she pointed out.
"Maybe that's why he goes insane."
* * * *
We took another train to Italy, but while in Italy, we used one of Cathalina's cars. We spent time in Venice and Florence. They asked me if I wanted to go to Pisa, but there was so much to see. Edie casually mentioned Milan for shopping, and all their eyes lit up.
"We can go to Milan but I'm spending my own money," I declared. "Well, I think I'll consider it as spending Madame Cathalina's money."
Edie didn't understand, so Cathalina explained about the commission she'd paid me.
No one wanted to go to Rome. It carried bad memories for Cathalina and Demetria, and so we flew to Athens.
Greece was amazing. I loved the food and the museums. Cathalina asked permission to order for me, which I granted. It was on the second day that she came very close to losing her temper.
It was a quiet little cafe, the sort the tourists would never find. Cathalina spoke Greek to him. He paused and replied in English, "Perhaps English would be better for you, madam."
She glared at him and responded in Greek.
"We speak very good English here," the waiter said.
Demetria was grinning.
"What's going on?"
"The language and accents have shifted over two thousand years. This happened last time I was in Greece with her, too. The waiter can't understand her accent."
She looked over at us and said, "It's not funny."
Then she turned back to the waiter, flashing her fangs at him, and spoke in English, "I spoke Greek at the fall of Constantinople. I spoke Greek when I stood at the head of the Acropolis and held back the Persians. I speak Greek when I pray to my goddess, Athena. If you cannot understand my accent, perhaps you should consider remembering your ancient heritage."
I was sure the young man was going to soil himself.
"What are they teaching in schools these days?" I asked.
The waiter fled, and a minute later, a much older woman replaced him. She spoke Greek to Cathalina. Halfway through the conversation, Cathalina sighed.
"She points out the language has shifted and wonders whether I should perhaps spend some time learning to speak with a modern accent," Cathalina explained. "She points out it is not her grandson's fault if he does not speak ancient Greek." She shook her head. "Reduced to relearning the language of my birth."
The rest of us tried not to laugh. I, at least, succeeded.
* * * *
We spent several days in Athens, most of it in the museums. It was overwhelming to stand at the Temple of Zeus and have Cathalina explain what it looked like when she was first there.
"I did not pray to Zeus," she explained, "but one did not ignore him, either, and I left offerings for him.
On our last evening after a lovely dinner, carefully described to the vampires, Demetria asked me if there was anywhere else I wanted to go.
"I've never been to Tahiti or Bora Bora," I said.
Her expression was priceless.
"I guess we could go," she said tentatively.
I couldn't help but laugh. "I wouldn't do that to you."
And so, nearly a month after our departure, we returned home. I'd had a wonderful time, but I still had nightmares, horrible nightmares, every night, and my art remained dark and hideous. The first night back, as she was getting ready to tuck me into bed, Demetria asked me how I felt. "Have I talked you into remaining with the living?"
"You have another month," I said. "One happy drawing, and we'll see. Just one. One night where my dreams aren't full of horror, and we'll see."
"You're sleeping," she pointed out.
"Only with your help."
"Have I ever suggested I'll stop helping?"
* * * *
She bought me presents. She took me to shows. She threw a party, inviting my friends. She begged. She cajoled. She offered anything in her power.
"One happy painting."
I talked to Edie every night. We talked and talked. We got nowhere, and many of the conversations ended with both of us deeply frustrated. I think she knew she wasn't going to talk me back to good mental health in the time she had. I was frustrated we were wasting time.
I drew, and they were horrible, they were all horrible.
Then there were two weeks left. Demetria grew increasingly desperate. We had a fight where she suggested I was being stubborn just so I could punish her.
"Right," I said. "I want to die just to punish you. It has nothing to do with wanting my art back."
"People have suffered worse!"
"And they make their choices."
It went downhill from there.
We didn't talk for two days after that fight, but she still helped me sleep each night. Then she came to my room and apologized, begging me to forgive her.
"I forgive you for the fight," I said, but didn't offer more than that. "Can we play some racquetball?"
Then there was one week left.
And then two more days and two more nights, and then would arrive the day I would die.
Last Days
She came to me in the morning after waking, finding me in the studio.
"Good morning," she said brightly, but there was tension around her eyes, and her back was exceptionally stiff.
I walked to her, took her hands, and said, "Sit with me." I pulled her to the sofa, sitting next to her, facing each other.
"We have today and tomorrow, and in the morning on the day after, you're going to ease me away."
"No."
"You are. You promised."
She looked away and wouldn't say anything for a long time. I saw tears begin to crawl down her cheeks, blood red. She wiped them away.
"It doesn't have to be that way."
"It would be kindness, Demetria."
"You'll get better! You've had a good two months, Melissa."
"I'm never going to get my art back. It's the one thing that defines me. I can't keep drawing this." I threw my latest drawing onto the table.
"You haven't given it long enough."
"You asked for three years. I gave you three years. It's done nothing but get worse. The nightmares have done nothing but get worse."
"I want three more years."
"Are you going to keep your promise to me or not?"
"Please don't make me."
"Are you?"
Slowly, she nodded.
"Thank you," I said. "After I'm gone, I want you to help Tegan sell my art. I have quite a collection."
"I know. I've seen it."
"They'll be worth something after I'm gone. I want you to divide the money between Tegan and my mother."
She nodded dully.
"I want an engraving of Athena on my gravestone. I don't care if my body is buried or just ashes, but I want some sort of marker somewhere."
"I'll handle it."
"Demetria, it needs to be somewhere my mother can visit, and I don't think she'll be willing to come here."
She paused, and I knew she'd planned on having it here. "Yes, of course," she said.
"I want to spend the next two days with you," I said. "Just you. I'll call Mama tomorrow evening at dinner, but I won't tell her anything."
She turned to me and tried to smile. "What did you want to do?"
"Today I want to paint. I am going to tell you stories about me, things I want you to remember. I know you've been watching over me, but I think perhaps you didn't bug my apartment."
She laughed. "No."
"And you are going to tell me about me, too. You're going to tell me about Gretchen the Fair, and about as many of my ancestors as you remember."
I caressed her cheek. "Tomorrow, we trade roles. You are going to tell me about yourself, starting with your earliest memories."
"All right."
"And I am going to dr
aw you nude."
"No!"
"Yes!" I said. "I have spent over three years doing whatever you ordered. This is what we are doing!"
She paused. "I don't want to."
"Tough. And then you're going to also tell me why you have been so reticent."
"It's not something you should see on your last day."
"I will be the judge of that."
"All right," she said after a long pause. "Whatever you want, Melissa."
Gretchen the Fair
Demetria Dunn
The German Reformation began in 1517, the year that Martin Luther published The Ninety-Five Thesis, although of course, no one at the time knew what was beginning until much later. I was living in Bavaria at the time, south of Munich in the mountains near the modern border between Germany and Austria. I knew nothing about the importance of the year, but the period we now call the Middle Ages were coming to an end, beginning in Italy and moving out from there.
Gretchen was the second daughter of the village blacksmith, already married and widowed with two children by the time I met her. I was immediately infatuated with her. She had blonde hair and hazel eyes. She could have passed for Marlene Dietrich's sister, four hundred years later. When I first saw her, I couldn't take my eyes off her.
I learned all I could about her and her situation before I befriended her. I invited friendship, and for two years, that was all it was. And then, in the winter of 1520, we became lovers. She was my first lover since becoming a vampire two hundred and forty years earlier.
She loved mornings, very early when the sun first rises. She was ticklish, right here, along the sides, and loved when I tickled her there. She was afraid of water, as she couldn't swim, but she showed no fear of heights. She loved to dance, but as a human was clumsy. She liked the ends of a loaf of bread, dripping with honey. She laughed easily and found joy in the simplest of pleasures.
She loved making wagers with me, always little wagers. If I guessed the number she was thinking, I could remove one article of her clothing, but if I failed to guess, then I had to massage her feet.
I was deeply in love, and I thought she was too. And so, I revealed my true nature to her.
She was reviled at first and would have fled from me. I was not very good with glamour, and I could not bring her to forget what I had revealed, but I convinced her it had been some horrible nightmare. But even then, it preyed upon her, and it wasn't long after that she declared our friendship an unnatural act against God, and refused to see me again.
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