A Different Hunger

by Lila Richards

  Springer accompanied them as far as the harbour, where he turned west and Rufus and Serafina made their way east along the seafront on Custom House Street, turning inland as they caught the scent of a large number of people close by. Before long, they came upon the Albert Barracks, shining like a beacon amidst the ill-lit streets. Fog drifting in from the sea combined with sulphurous chimney smoke to form a clammy pall that clung to their skin and clothes. Inside the high, stone wall of the barracks, they could sense only a few men moving about, most likely, they thought, on watch duties.

  “Shall I bring one of them to us?” Serafina murmured as they stood in the wall’s deep shadows. “Or shall we try elsewhere?”

  “You’re not going to go in there?” asked Rufus in alarm.

  “Of course not, I can call one of them. I’ll do it and you can link your mind with mine and see how it’s done.”

  Rufus nodded and joined his mind with Serafina’s. She reached out with her mind until it connected with that of one of the soldiers, and began to draw him towards her, insinuating into his thoughts the idea that he had an important assignation to keep with a lady waiting just beyond the barracks gates. When one of his fellow soldiers called out to ask him where he was going, Serafina gave him the words to say to put the man’s mind at ease. Very soon, the gates opened and a stocky young man in uniform slipped through them. Serafina drew him to her like an angler reeling in a fish, his eyes becoming glazed and dull, his face devoid of expression as he stared into dark eyes that held him captive. Rufus felt his gums begin to tingle, but he signalled to Serafina that the man was hers. As he watched, she pressed the soldier against the wall into the shadows, pulling his jacket and shirt loose at the neck as her fangs grew long and sharp. Rufus barely suppressed a gasp of shared pleasure as Serafina’s fangs sank into the man’s neck and she began to drink. Part of his mind he kept attuned to the barracks yard in case one of the other soldiers decided to find out what his companion was doing, but none came.

  As Serafina finished, she licked at the wounds she had made to clean them and help them to heal quickly, then she sent the soldier on his way, the dazed smile on his face showing she had left him with happy, though vague, memories of his encounter. She and Rufus stood silently in the shadows as he slipped back through the gate and shut it behind him, waiting until his footsteps had died away before continuing their hunt.

  “Where there are soldiers, there should be prostitutes nearby.” Serafina smiled, linking her arm with Rufus’s. Taking a few moments to scent the air, they retraced their steps along Military Road and onto Princess Street. A short walk along Princess Street brought them to Chancery Street, where they found what they sought. A number of women of varying ages, their tawdry attempts at allure proclaiming their profession, wandered about or leaned against shop fronts waiting for customers. All looked frozen to the bone in the chill, dank fog. Serafina slipped into the shadows cast by a tall building.

  I’ll stay here out of sight while you draw one of those women to you. Bring her into the shadows here and I’ll keep watch for you.

  Rufus nodded and strolled a few steps down Chancery Street, where he stopped and reached out with his mind to the nearest woman, a rather stout blonde of uncertain provenance, and she began to move towards him. As she came closer, he saw she had attempted to disguise the marks of smallpox by applying large quantities of makeup that gave her the appearance of a grotesque china doll. But he didn’t care. He could smell her blood, feel it pulsing through her veins, and once again he felt the tingle of his fangs emerging and the tugging at his gut of the deeply sensual thrill that always accompanied feeding.

  The woman came to stand close to him, murmuring, “Interested in a bit of business are you, sir?” in what Rufus assumed was intended to be a seductive tone.

  He smiled, carefully concealing his fangs, and gazed into her eyes until he saw her face go blank, then led her into the shadows. Holding the woman in his arms, he let the blood tide rise within him until his entire body seemed to vibrate with it, then he bent over her neck and bit into her plump flesh. She gasped when his fangs pierced her, as though responding to a lover, and then gave a shuddering sigh as Rufus began to drink. He felt her pleasure, bequeathed by his control of her mind, and drank it in with her blood, but his mind was filled with thoughts of Serafina. When the shallowness of the woman’s breathing told him he’d taken enough, he raised his head, licking away the last trickles of blood from her skin, lowering her almost unconscious body to the pavement and leaning her against the wall. She gave a contented sigh and her head lolled onto her chest. Anyone seeing her would think she was sleeping off an over-indulgence in strong drink.

  Rufus turned to Serafina and joined her in the shadows, pulling her into his arms and kissing her. Their kisses became more passionate as the blood ecstasy took hold of them, and Rufus felt his hunger for her grow strong. He pressed her against the wall, his body hard against hers, his breathing fast and rough with excitement. Not here! Serafina spoke into his mind. We might be seen. But Rufus crushed his mouth against hers, kissing her with such force that he could feel her half-retracted fangs through her lips. She pulled away. “No, not here!” she repeated, this time in a fierce whisper. The woman slumped beside them began to stir. Serafina grabbed Rufus’s hand and tugged him after her, and they ran back to their hotel.

  On discovering that Springer had not yet returned from his own hunting, Serafina turned to Rufus, fires of passion burning in her eyes. “Interested in a bit of business are you, sir?” she murmured in near-perfect mimicry of the prostitute they had left in Queen Street.

  “I’ll need to know your terms,” Rufus responded, grasping her by the shoulders, practically pushing her into their bedroom and shoving the door closed with his foot.

  His passion rising as it had in Queen Street, Rufus pressed Serafina against the door and began to kiss her, one hand entwined in her hair, the other pulling up her long skirts. He gasped as he felt her hands against him, her fingers busy unfastening his trousers as she returned his kisses.

  “Oh, God, Serafina! I want you so much I can’t bear it!” With something close to desperation, Rufus grasped Serafina and lifted her up so he could slip inside her, revelling in her sharp cry of pleasure, and they made love with a fierce intensity that left them both shuddering and gasping for breath.

  Somehow they made their way to the bed, shedding clothes as they went, savouring the touch and scent of each other’s bodies as they employed every sense at their command to explore each other with a slow and sensual thoroughness that took them almost to the limit of endurance before they gave themselves up to ecstasy.

  Afterwards they lay with their bodies twined together, needing no words to tell each other of their feelings.

  At length, Rufus raised himself on one elbow and gazed at Serafina’s face, as pale as a spring blossom framed by her raven hair. “Darling Serafina, how did I ever live without you?”

  “As I lived without you, my love – incompletely. But we’ve found each other now, and we need never be parted again.”

  “Please God!” Rufus’s voice was muffled against Serafina’s lips as he bent to kiss her.

  Please God! Serafina’s response echoed in his mind.

  When they emerged from their room, they found Springer in the sitting room, once more immersed in the pages of the Evening Star newspaper.

  “I thought it best not to disturb you,” he said with a knowing smirk and Rufus found himself wondering how he dealt with the blood ecstasy. “An iron will, honed over centuries,” Springer murmured from the depths of his paper.

  It was some minutes before he closed and folded the paper, placing it neatly on the arm of the settee. “Now,” he said, rising to his feet with the grace that still surprised Rufus, “shall we take a tour of the town?”

  The three of them spent some hours wandering about the Auckland streets, aimlessly to anyone seeing them, but taking in each detail. A brisk breeze arose, blowing away much of the
sea fog and driving wisps of cloud across the dark sky so that the moonlight seemed to flicker like a fitful candle flame. As they walked, Rufus and Serafina pointed out to Springer the Chancery Street area where prostitutes plied their trade, and the Albert Barracks with their supply of soldiers. Springer guided them around the harbour area whose murky taverns, brothels and grog shops were the haunts of sailors and prostitutes and the usual rogues found in such areas, as well as a number of hostelries further afield whose patrons might provide sustenance for a vampire in need. By the time they returned to the Concord in the small hours of the morning, each had a mental map of the town, with the most likely areas for successful hunting marked.

  Rufus had also noticed a number of respectable-looking gaming establishments where he thought he might earn a useful income by supplementing the skills developed in the London clubs with his new abilities. Part of him was inclined to be squeamish at the thought of using these for such a purpose, but he knew the money he’d brought with him would not last long, and without the income from his father – which would doubtless be stopped in any case once his father learned he’d failed to arrive at his uncle’s estate – he suspected it might be his best option. Thoughts of his family and his friends in London made Rufus aware of how far he’d come – in every sense – since leaving England, and he was overcome by an unexpected wave of nostalgia for the life he’d left behind.

  You have us, now, came Serafina’s thought into his mind, and she slipped her arm about his waist and kissed him.

  Yes, he thought, this is what I have now. I couldn’t go back if I wanted to. And, with his cheek against Serafina’s raven hair, he knew he had no wish to do so.

  * * * *

  Somewhat to Rufus’s surprise, Springer approved of his plan to make money from gambling, even offering to go with him on his initial forays so that they could compare notes and Springer could give the benefit of his expertise, both as a gambler and a vampire. Serafina, however, was considerably less than happy when she realised she was not to be included in these outings.

  “They’re not gentlemen’s clubs, so why shouldn’t I go with you?” she demanded, a scowl on her face and her eyes flashing sparks of anger. “I used to when we lived in Europe. I even wagered money and won, more often than not.”

  “This is not Europe,” Springer reminded her. “In New Zealand, it’s not the custom for women to go gambling – at least not women with any pretension to decency. You’d be far too noticeable in such an establishment.”

  Serafina jumped up from her seat by the parlour window and began to pace about the room. “I told you we shouldn’t have come here, damned uncivilised place!” she flung at Springer.

  “And I told you why we should,” said Springer. “Besides, I’m not going to be with you all the time and Rufus needs an income for when I’m away. This offers the dual advantages of suiting his skills and fitting in with our lifestyle. You know I don’t respond well to fits of the sulks, my dear, so you might as well accept the situation with good grace.”

  Rufus, who had been sitting on the settee listening to this exchange with amusement, held out his arms to Serafina. “Sweetheart, don’t be angry. You know I’d take you if I could, but I can take you to a play or a concert. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

  “If they have concerts in this godforsaken place,” Serafina muttered ungraciously, but she stopped pacing and went to sit beside Rufus.

  He put his arms about her and kissed her. “Of course they do. Just the other night I saw the billing for a concert at the Choral Hall in Symonds Street. I dare say it’s not quite what you’ve been used to, but there was an operatic singer from England on the bill, and a Beethoven concerto.”

  Serafina did her best to remain mutinous, but the gleam in her eyes at the mention of music told Rufus a different story.

  “Do you promise to take me?”

  “I promise.”

  “All right, but just remember how bored I’ll be while you two are out gallivanting.”

  Springer got to his feet and gave Serafina a pained look. “Let me assure you I have never gallivanted in my life or, indeed, my unlife.”

  Serafina’s frown began to melt into a smile. “I can believe that! Off you go, then, but don’t be surprised if you come back to find I’ve died of boredom.”

  Martin’s, the gaming house Rufus and Springer had chosen for their first visit, was a sizable two-storey establishment just off Queen Street, run, according to the gilt lettering above the door, by Mrs Honoria Devine. Mrs Devine proved to be a rather dashing woman in her forties with chestnut hair that owed little to nature and shrewd, sapphire-blue eyes. Business was flourishing, if the quantities of gilt, velvet, and heavy carved furniture were any indication. Various rooms on both floors were given over to a number of different games: backgammon, vingt-et-un, poker, piquet, euchre, even a roulette table. There was a supper room on the ground floor, where a string quartet played soft music and refreshments were served throughout the evening.

  They were greeted at the door by an older gentleman with the look and manner of a butler fallen on hard times. Mrs Devine herself directed them to an upstairs room where poker was being played, and before long the two of them were engrossed in a spirited, fourhanded game.

  Throughout the game, Springer remained unengaged as far as mind powers were concerned, allowing Rufus to discover his own capabilities. In fact, Rufus found it surprisingly easy to probe the minds of the other two players to learn what cards they held and the strategies they were planning. He suspected his efforts at mind reading were not yet particularly subtle, but his subjects gave no sign of awareness. Nevertheless, he decided he would be wise not to win too much or too often, since this would arouse suspicion as no amount of mind-probing seemed likely to do. It was scarcely a high-stakes game, but two hours later, when the others decided to try their luck at roulette, Rufus was almost twenty pounds the richer.

  “Well, that wasn’t too difficult,” he said as they strolled down the thickly carpeted staircase.

  “No,” admitted Springer with a smile. “Some of your abilities could use a little refinement, but there’s no doubt at all of your skill at cards.”

  “Thank you. Perhaps next time you can do the honours and I’ll observe. I do want to learn all I can.”

  Springer made a slight bow. “Excellent. What shall it be this time?”

  They had reached the ground floor, where a small crowd was gathered around the roulette table. “I wonder,” murmured Rufus almost to himself, “if our powers extend to manipulating inanimate objects?”

  Springer spoke into his mind: Alas, no. Apart from control of our own bodies, they’re powers over the mind alone. And please, if you know what’s good for you, don’t ever say such things aloud, hmm?

  Sorry, returned Rufus, I’ll be more careful in future. Aloud, he said, “Shall we try our luck at euchre, then?”

  “Certainly.” As they made their way to the tables, Springer caught the attention of one of the servants. “Could you bring us a bottle of claret and two glasses? We’ll be at the euchre tables.”

  * * * *

  “Tell me all about it!” Serafina demanded, steering Rufus toward the settee. “What was it like? Who was there? Were any of them ladies? Tell me! Tell me!”

  “Serafina!” Springer’s voice carried a warning.

  “But I’ve been so bored, cooling my heels here all alone while you two were out on the town. The least you can do is tell me about it.”

  Springer pursed his lips and murmured, “I note, however, that you didn’t expire of your boredom.”

  “All right, all right,” Rufus laughed, pulling Serafina onto his knee and kissing her. “Martin’s is a very well run house, presided over by Mrs Honoria Devine, who’s forty if she’s a day, and must be quite wealthy judging by the way the place is decorated. It’s all velvet and oak and mahogany, and gilt everywhere. It has upstairs and downstairs rooms with a roulette table, and tables for all sorts of card games
as well as dice and backgammon and…”

  “What did you play?”

  “Poker, and euchre and piquet.”

  “And were there ladies there?”

  “Only a few, apart from Mrs Devine herself, and none of them ladies in whose company you’d want to be seen.”

  “You mean in whose company you’d want me to be seen,” retorted Serafina.

  “Aren’t you going to ask about the entire point of the evening?” drawled Springer, opening his cigarette box and extracting a cigarette and matches.

  Serafina frowned at him. “I was getting to that! So, my love, how much did you win?”

  “Not as much as I could have won,” grinned Rufus. “But I didn’t want them to think I was cheating – or, rather, I didn’t want them to know I was cheating.” He dug his hands into his pockets, pulled out fists full of notes and flung them onto the couch. “I think there’s around forty-five pounds there – more than enough for the theatre, I should think.”

  Serafina picked up handfuls of the notes, staring at them in delight. “Rufus! So much money! Oh, you are clever!”

  “Well, I did have something of an advantage.”

  “No false modesty, Rufus.” Springer sent a thin stream of tobacco smoke towards the ceiling and watched as it curled upwards in a widening spiral. “You’re a very talented card player. I only wish I’d had you with me in Berlin. It could have saved me a great deal of—ah—trouble.”

  Rufus, guessing he was referring to his friendship with Stefan, and what it had led to, said nothing.

  Springer, his face devoid of expression, continued to smoke his cigarette for some minutes, then, crushing the remains of it into his silver ashtray, he rose to his feet. “I’m for my bed, now,” he announced. “Dawn is not far off. Tomorrow, I intend to start looking for a house for us.”