Vampire Romance_Book 1

by P. L. Kurup

  “What’s happening to me?” Samuel growled.

  “You’re enduring the marvels of your new state,” he heard Lucas say. “I myself have become dulled to such wonderments. I envy you so.”

  The voice came from everywhere and retained its mocking nature. Samuel hobbled from the crippling atmosphere, and collided with the giant wall of a house. He clambered over the formidable barrier, and dropped onto a grassy verge where fresh air and dazzling sunlight were the norm.

  Suddenly, the boils on his skin vanished, his ulcerated throat and stinging eyes reverted to their former state, and he no longer suffered. Lucas had guided him to hell on purpose and this made the fledging vampire more determined than ever to find his enemy. It was a daunting task because the roads were jammed with people. He passed houses and places of business, knowing right away if Lucas was inside. Batiste’s guards went by once or twice, but they didn’t seem to remember him. Even if they had, Samuel was confident his powers would help him to escape.

  xxx

  As sunset loomed over the city, and people went back to their homes, he stopped searching and hunted for a place to spend the night. He came across an inn with broken windows and paint peeling off its walls. Though its shoddy appearance was not to his taste, he marched inside. The moment he walked in, he was choked by a cloud of smoke permeating from a wood-burning fire in the corner. The floor was scattered with flea-ridden straw, and a docile German Shepherd acted as a doorstop. Samuel sneered at the place, but hid his true feelings when approaching the innkeeper, a man with a bald patch, and a well-trimmed moustache.

  “I would like a room for the night,” Samuel said.

  “Two francs,” answered the innkeeper.

  “I don’t have any money, but I can work for the privilege.”

  “No money, no room.”

  “What if I swept the floor? It certainly looks like it needs a good brushing.”

  The innkeeper’s eyes fixed on Samuel’s wedding band and he bargained, “If you give me that ring you can stay for a month.”

  “I’m afraid, I would rather die,” Samuel retorted.

  He gave the innkeeper a shocking stare, and strode out of the guesthouse. There was nothing left to do except search for somewhere else to stay. The stress of losing his wife slowed his pace, and he stopped to watch the sunset illuminate the waters of the river Seine. The awe-inspiring scene lessened his grief, so he stayed there until the last flicker of light had dissolved into the ether.

  He left the riverside at nightfall, and walked west, where the land was overtaken by trees and shrubs. The smell of blood was present there too, but it wasn’t as tempting as the kind he’d experienced at the scaffold. To be honest, he found the blood there insipid and, for lack of a better word, dead. He pushed on and came to an iron arch that spelt out the word cemetery.

  “It was the blood of the departed I smelt,” he concluded.

  Samuel strolled in to find a multitude of graves squeezed together in clumsy rows. Moss grew on stones like an incurable disease, the smell of newly-buried corpses filled the air. It was pitch dark and dangerous to maneuver without a light source. Samuel’s vision had become more acute in the hours following his change, and was strong enough for him to see every inch of the courtyard. So he rushed between the tombs, being careful not to disturb the flowers laid there by grieving relatives, and arrived at a grand mausoleum that towered over everything. As he wandered in, he was greeted by impeccably sculpted angels on either side of a marble crypt.

  He lay down on the shiny new floor while picturing Alexandra’s face as she walked down to him on their wedding day. He switched to their wedding night where he promised to always keep her safe, a sentiment that crushed his heart. Sleep came quickly, and the stone floor turned out to be an excellent bed substitute.

  xxx

  He woke in the early hours with a voracious appetite and menacing black eyes. His hunger was similar to the kind he experienced at age fourteen when his carriage got stranded in the marshland, and he and his party went without food for two days. This morning, it was the desire for blood that drove him insane. So much so he ripped his shirt off himself, and placed the stained cloth in his mouth. His fangs freed the bits of blood lodged between the fibres, returning his eyes to their customary blue.

  His gaze went to a set of folded clothes on top of the crypt, and a bucket of water sitting next to it with a clean rag hanging over its side. Samuel sprung to his feet, unraveled the trousers and shirt, and noticed they were a perfect fit. He combed the graveyard for the kind person who’d left the garments and clean water, but he saw no one. He plucked the cloth from the side of the bucket, and was about to dip it in the water, when he jerked back his hand. Samuel stared horrorstruck at the liquid because no part of him cast a reflection. He moved his hand across the top of the bucket while holding the rag, and saw that while the rag was mirrored in the water, his hand was not.

  “It can’t be,” he said. “My eyes – they, they haven’t got used to the light yet.”

  Deep down he knew there was nothing wrong with his sight. The sun grew stronger, making him weary, but he found it didn’t wear him down as much as the first day. He carefully dipped the cloth in the water, washed the blood off his body, and put on the fresh change of clothes. After which, he went through the list of impossible things that had happened to him since yesterday. Such as his inability to cast a reflection, his aptitude to heal from life-threatening injury, being forbidden from entering hallowed ground, and his lust for blood. All four traits indicated that he was no longer ordinary, yet he had no idea what he was. The vampire concept being an unfamiliar one to the count.

  He spotted a young woman heading to the exit, and knew that she’d placed the clothes and the water in the mausoleum. Samuel zipped through the gravesite, and darted in front of the lady, making her scream. He saw that the person was little more than a girl who wore peasant clothes and tied her hair in braids.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you,” he said. “I know you put the clothes in the crypt, and I wanted to thank you for it.”

  The girl swooned at the handsome stranger, unable to stop her smiles.

  “It was no trouble,” she replied. “Everyone needs a kindness done to them once in a while.”

  Samuel touched her face, the frigid temperature of his skin making her shudder.

  “Thank you, Marie.”

  “How do you know my name?” she asked puzzled.

  Samuel didn’t answer. His face turned stern, listening to the blood gushing through her body. The blood he sucked from his shirt had only been enough to dismiss his hunger for a matter of minutes, and hearing the divine flow reawakened his appetite. His striking blue eyes snapped black. The girl gasped and scurried away and Samuel let her escape. He waited until she crossed the cemetery gate, then hurtled after her. He glided in front of her, and she shrieked, setting eyes on the predator once more.

  “Let me go, Monsieur,” she said.

  “I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

  “Why are you doing this?” she asked tearfully.

  “Because I’m ravenous.”

  Clutching her neck, he drew her to his open mouth. His teeth pressed on her neck and his eyes widened at the thought of satisfying his lust.

  “I beg you, don’t kill me,” she pleaded. “I have a young child.”

  Samuel paused while the woman squirmed in his clutch. He deduced that in attacking this poor girl, he was no different from Lucas Renard or General Batiste, and he tossed her to the ground.

  “Run away from me, and in future, be careful who you offer assistance to,” he told her.

  The young woman ran for her life, and Samuel fell to the ground, using everything he had to resist chasing after her. When her appeal waned, he got back to his feet, and headed for the city. Blood was all he thought about, and he held his stomach to soften his desire. He stumbled to the edge of the metropolis and saw streets bristling with people. Whether they be young, o
ld, male, female, gay, or straight, had no effect on his decision. All were equal in his eyes. He mingled with the swarm, discovering that he was drawn to some more than others. He was unaware that his propensity lay in the differences in human blood type, Samuel having a penchant for ‘O negative’ blood as opposed to other varieties.

  His stare picked out a boy of eight walking in front of him. Samuel followed the child for half a mile, but kept a respectful distance. People went about their business, oblivious to how dangerous the boy’s stalker was. To them, he was a scruffy man most likely struggling to eke out a living as they were. The child approached a patisserie window, and gaped at the croissants and cream buns on the shelves. Before the lad went into the shop, Samuel pounced in front of him. The boy’s face stayed curious, not understanding the danger.

  Samuel reached forward, seized the cat cradled in the boy’s arms, and bit into its neck. Blood leached from the gash and the boy shouted with all his might. Samuel dodged streams startled Parisians rushing to the boy’s aid, and hurried away.

  xxx

  The cat’s blood restored Samuel’s eyes to their glistening blue, abolishing some of the craving. He scaled the side of a building and leapt onto a backstreet. A mother holding a toddler gave him a welcoming smile, and he ruffled the infant’s hair prior to moving on. He covered the length of the road, picking up rats, feeding on them, discarding the remains once he’d finished with them. Every drop consumed boosted his determination to find Lucas. For this reason he returned to the busy main street. There was no sign of the boy whose cat he demolished, nor of the kind lady who gave him clothes, nor of Lucas. However, Samuel’s insight revealed the boy being comforted by his parents, the girl working in a tailor’s shop, and Lucas prowling the city for his next victim.

  Samuel passed hundreds of cramped buildings, again knowing if Lucas was there. During his search, he saw lovesick couples flaunting their affection for one another and turned away, unable to witness their happiness. He examined the townsfolk until the clocks turned to three a.m., but Lucas wasn’t among them.

  Drowsy with sleep, he scoured the city for a place to rest. He decided not to walk through the front door, as humans despised him. In a residence down the street, he saw a woman opening an attic window. Samuel walked to the house, and waited until dark clouds blocked the moon, before clambering in through the open window, and finding shelter in the attic.

  Chapter 9

  Samuel opened his eyes during the night and stared out the window. It was raining, and he saw dozens of puddles scattered all over the empty streets. Though serene, he was racked by a feeling that Lucas was nearby. He leapt out the window and landed in a deep puddle, splashing muddy water up to his chest, as the ongoing rain drenched the rest of his body. He paid no attention to the soaking, and sprinted in Lucas’s direction. As always, the speed with which he travelled was extraordinary, and he reached the spot Lucas should’ve been at within seconds. Lucas, however, was not there, and Samuel stamped his foot, making a dent in the road. He turned and was further vexed to see he had returned to the scaffold. His enemy’s stench was the only reason to stay.

  xxx

  The following morning, the trees lining the streets were illuminated by dazzling sunshine. The merchants set up their stalls near the scaffold in case the gathering crowds needed something to eat or drink. The first of the spectators congregated next to the scaffold, and by late morning, the square buzzed with people. Though the sunshine weakened Samuel, he had no intention of leaving, and his dashing figure cut between the onlookers, spurred on by a feeling that Lucas was close by.

  “I am here,” Lucas whispered.

  Samuel whipped round and saw a beggar-woman with dry, spindly hair staring at him, but no Lucas.

  “Where are you? I know you can hear me so stop playing games,” Samuel shouted.

  Lucas didn’t make himself known again, and Samuel folded his arms across his chest inundated by the fiend in every way.

  xxx

  The hours drifted by yet no prisoners were escorted to the scaffold. Instead, four men in greying clothes ascended the scaffold steps and examined the guillotine’s cogs and wheels. They shook their heads, and Samuel smirked, knowing their thoughts.

  “When is it going to start? My feet are getting tired,” a man yelled.

  “What’s going on? Why haven’t you begun yet?” a woman screamed at one of the guards.

  The crowd jostled each other, murmuring their dissatisfaction, and Samuel watched a harried technician descend the steps.

  “I regret to inform you, the guillotine is out of commission,” he said. A wave of jeers rose from the crowd. “Although, I’m certain she will work properly tomorrow.”

  People around Samuel seethed as he curtailed his smiles. He grew stern because his nemesis was no longer in the crowd. The sensation was unmistakable, and he moved through the throng trying to regain Lucas’s whereabouts. He arrived at a less crowded street on the south side of the river, but he still couldn’t detect him. Despite the setback, Samuel knew the vampire hadn’t left the city. His stride was broken by something bumpy on the road, and he looked down to see a dead bird lying at his feet. He kicked the obstruction aside and carried on, not thinking about it again.

  Day faded into night, and streetlamps were lit, transforming buildings and people into ghostly silhouettes. Samuel plodded on, not caring about where he was going, when he came across a spattering of blood on a wall. The haphazard pattern may have been created during a brawl, except he couldn’t shake the feeling it was meant for him. A breeze caressed the back of his neck, prompting him to turn. As he did so, he saw residents pin him with their stares. There was nothing to suggest they knew what he was, yet it made him uncomfortable. He lowered his eyes, and strode off, not appreciating the sudden change of mood.

  His voyage took him to the banks of the river Seine, where boats bobbed up and down in the distance. The blackened waters that looked so welcoming during daylight now appeared ominous and menacing. He was about to leave when he spotted a lady sitting on a chair facing the river. The image was so dull that it wouldn’t have aroused anyone’s suspicions. Samuel sensed something was wrong so he drew closer to her. He noticed that she had a slender physique, and long brown hair worn in a single plait that came down her left side. Judging by the youthfulness of her hands, she was no more than twenty years of age.

  Crossing in front of her, he saw blood dripping from her neck, her lifeless eyes staring ahead. He touched her face gently when she grabbed his arm.

  “You have to go from this place or he will kill you,” she sputtered.

  As she took her dying breath, a man’s laughter spiralled in the wind. Samuel could do nothing for the girl, so he freed himself from her clutch, and climbed back on the road. He knew now that the dead bird lying at his feet, the spattering of blood on the wall, and the woman on the shore, were a trail he was meant to follow. He walked down the street, keeping a watchful eye for Lucas, when he was overcome by a feeling of gloom. The sensation radiated from a source of pure evil, and he meandered to a street, swathed in its essence.

  Contemptuous laughter filled the air, and he looked up to a rooftop on which stood Lucas Renard.

  Samuel’s eyes flared, and he willed himself to reach Lucas. His desire was so fierce that his feet left the ground, and he drifted to the rooftop, landing a metre from Lucas. Samuel glanced to the street, contemplating what he’d done.

  “Well done in discovering your ability to take flight,” Lucas goaded.

  Samuel charged and threw him down, then placed his hands around Lucas’s neck and squeezed. Watching his enemy’s eyes bulge seemed just punishment for what he did to Alexandra. However, he soon removed his hands from around Lucas’s throat to find him still and his face drained of colour.

  “I killed him,” Samuel said.

  Lucas chuckled, saying, “You can’t kill me, Samuel. We are immortal.”

  “No.”

  “Yes, my skeptical friend.
We are vampires and thus destined to live forever.”

  “I can starve myself. I need blood to survive so all I have to do is stop feeding.”

  “That will weaken you, but it won’t kill you,” Lucas replied. “I have given you a great gift. You should be grateful.”

  Samuel charged at him again, but this time, Lucas leapt ten feet, flipped midair, and landed behind Samuel. As Samuel turned, Lucas kicked him to the ground, and placed his foot on his chest. He then removed a wooden stake from inside his coat pocket, and positioned it above Samuel’s heart.

  “Of course, if I were to pierce your heart with this instrument or cut off your head, you would die in an instant.”

  “Why did you kill my wife? She was innocent,” Samuel asked, his voice cracking.

  “Because the pair of you were too blissful for my liking. A reminder of what I lost. And I grew jealous. It’s as simple as that.”

  “You are evil and I will kill you.”

  “I doubt that very much. You won’t even kill humans. Except, you did kill the general and the executioner. Did you know the executioner had a wife and five children?” Samuel frowned. “Oh, yes. Without him, they will starve to death. You see, you’re not that different from me after all.”

  Samuel thrust Lucas away and stood up, but Lucas had disappeared.

  “Be grateful for what you are. You are a fantastical being,” Lucas’s voice echoed.

  Samuel flew down to the road and kicked a stone so hard that it shattered a window. He continued until he arrived at a part of the city where scantily-dressed maidens waited for patrons. Half a dozen ladies looked his way, murmuring at his attractiveness. He walked away from them, but one young woman pursued him. Wherever he went, she wasn’t far behind. He tried to get rid of her by crisscrossing narrow streets, but somehow she kept up with him. Fed up with his shadow, he spun round.