Mateo sighed. “Our kind is older than humans. We have existed since the dawn of time on Earth.”
Ela looked incredulously at Mateo. “I don’t remember vampires being mentioned in the Bible during my Hebrew school.”
Mateo laughed. “Of course not. You were being taught the human history, not the true word.” Mateo sat on a stone bench next to one of the fountains. Patting the spot to his right, he invited Ela to join him. “God created many versions of people besides humans. God strove to strike a balance between the natural world and species that would bear more of a resemblance to God himself.”
Ela sat down as Mateo continued to speak. “Vampires were the first, and like God, eternal. Lycans followed. But God wanted creations that would subjugate themselves to Him. He wanted instruments of His will.”
Mateo and Ela’s eyes met. “Humans became God’s favorites because – in spite of free will – they are easily pacified and cower when faced with the unknown.” Mateo stood. “They are easily controlled because they are finite and fear death. Vampires have no such concerns.”
It occurred to Ela that for all the power a vampire has, they were clearly not immune from the trappings of insanity. What Mateo was telling her contradicted everything she had understood about her world. “Why aren’t there any books about this? Something in the Bible or some vampire equivalent?”
Mateo shook his head. “We don’t need old books full of lies and empty promises. We were there.”
Ela laughed. “You’re mad. Or you’ve had too much time on your hands.” She got up and began walking back toward the archway. She expected Mateo to charge after her, but instead she heard his voice, low and even, coming from behind her.
“Is what I’m saying so difficult to believe? Until a few months ago, would you have grasped the possibilities that this new life provides you?” Mateo moved silently and quickly, now standing behind Ela. “Tell me something, did you believe in God when you were human?”
Ela shrugged. “I’m not sure what I believed. There were days when I would sit on the front stoop of my rundown apartment building with my best friend, drinking lemonade as if we didn’t have a care in the world. Those were the days I was certain there was a god who cared about me.”
Ela stared off in the distance, her eyes unfocused. “Then there were days when I was herded into a stall and nearly suffocated under the corpse of my first love.” Ela looked down. “Those were barren and godless days. By my reckoning, those days were more frequent.”
Ela looked up at Mateo. “God? Not in the way you mean.” She chewed at the inside of her cheek nervously. “I believe in an aloof god who put things in motion and then disappeared. Like a clockmaker who couldn’t be bothered to wind the mechanism he had built.”
Mateo took Ela’s hand. “My dear, God is dead.”
Ela’s eyes widened. “How – how do you know that?”
Mateo nodded. “Skepticism is healthy, but remember we have been here since the beginning.” Mateo released Ela’s hand, turned his back to her, and began absently picking at an orange lantana bush. “God was love. He was love of humans, vampires, lycans, and so on.” Mateo flicked an orange petal off his thumb. “But mostly God was love of God.”
Mateo turned to face Ela, expressionless. “When the creatures he had put above all others to love him faltered – not only in their love of Him, but in their love of one another – God atrophied, withered, and eventually died.”
Ela shook her head. “I can’t – I don’t believe –”
Mateo gently stroked Ela’s flawless cheek. “But you said it yourself. A clockmaker who couldn’t be bothered to wind the mechanism he had built. It’s not that He can’t be bothered. He isn’t alive to make the effort.”
Ela took several steps back, sat on a stone bench, and lifted her head up, looking at the foliage laden canopy of the garden. The diffused light of the garden looked to Ela’s eyes like hundreds of floating rainbows. She felt vindicated in her disdain for humanity. All the suffering and death that had been attributed to God’s will was nothing more than the miserable and sadistic nature inherent to each human heart. Closing her eyes, Ela took a deep breath. “Where does that leave us?”
Mateo smiled. “The simplicity of your question belies its importance. We are superior to all others. We are closest to God’s image. Powerful and – with no reliance on the love of something as fickle as the human heart – we are forever.” Kneeling in front of Ela, he placed his hand on her knee. “After all, it’s our blood that gives eternal life.”
As Ela looked intently at Mateo, the grey in his eyes seemed to swirl, dim, and brighten simultaneously. “What did you mean when you said I was fourth lineage?”
“Over the millenniums, out of necessity – loneliness mostly – vampires have turned humans. The strength of the original bloodlines diminished.” Mateo shook his head. “Coleen plays a part in this. She turns her back on our history and allows seventh, eighth, even ninth lineage vampires to become makers. She values quantity over quality.”
Mateo stood. “These vampires are weak and should be considered little more than servants to our end.” Mateo grimaced. “To make matters worse, she has cultivated an appetite for non-human blood.” Mateo’s eyes glowed. “Humans are not our equals, and no more than they would stay their appetites for beef, pig, or fish, it is an abomination for vampires to squelch our natural and God-given thirst.” Mateo paused, his gaze boring into Ela. “The bloodlines should not go beyond fifth lineage.”
Ela smirked. “Obvious question – why five?”
Mateo grinned. “Five is part of a greater whole. Like the five pillars of the Tabernacle, the vampire lines represent strength and should not be diminished.”
Ela thought of Ivan, Rachel’s maker. “Do you know one of Coleen’s clan called Ivan?”
Mateo nodded. “Yes. He is a fifth lineage. Why?”
Ela stood and smiled. “Coleen was teaching him how to be a maker. He turned a former lover of mine.”
Mateo shook his head. “Unacceptable! The lines should have stopped with him.”
Ela nodded. “You have no idea how true that is.”
Mateo scowled. “He knows better, too, and should be ended for such heresy.”
“I’ve taken care of that.” Ela grinned.
Mateo’s brow lifted in surprise. “Impressive, considering he is older than you.”
Ela shrugged. “There were too many rules. It wasn’t working for me.”
Mateo laughed. “Would you consider staying on with us, Ela?”
Ela took note that, unlike Coleen, Mateo asked her what she wanted. Ela wasn’t certain Mateo’s dogma would suit her long term, but she knew she would learn from him. His knowledge, and near fanatical insistence that vampires eat humans, endeared him to her. “I’ll stay.”
Mateo smiled and put his arm around Ela’s shoulder. “Let’s begin.”
***
It was 1943, and Ela had been with Mateo’s clan for several months. She had learned that Mateo’s fanaticism was integral to who he was. “Who was he when he was human?” Ela had asked Nuria while they were hunting in a small village west of Bilbao.
“He was an Inquisitor General during Phillip the Second’s reign,” Nuria mentioned casually as they scaled a ten foot stone wall, landing silently on the other side,
“He led an army?” Ela walked next to Nuria.
Nuria chuckled and shook her head. “Not exactly. The Inquisition was started over five hundred years ago to make sure Jewish and Muslim converts to the Catholic Church adhered to their new faith.” Reaching the entrance to the large house, Nuria effortlessly lifted a heavy wooden front door off its hinges. Ela followed her into the entryway.
“You can imagine how that appealed to Mateo.” Nuria whispered as she signaled Ela toward the iron staircase. “As a human he had been involved in the Great Purge that took place during one of the first Spanish Inquisitions. His fervor and blind allegiance to doctrine had attracted his maker t
o him; so he was turned while participating in a massive cleansing near Madrid.”
The women followed the sound of three beating hearts down a hallway on the second floor. “He hunted and killed vampires?” Ela was surprised, given Mateo’s disdain for humans.
Nuria pointed to the door where the strongest heartbeat came from. Her light brown eyes glowed in the darkness of the hall. “Once he saw the truth of who we are, and what the humans are, he took to killing humans with the same enthusiasm he had shown when ending vampires.”
Listening to the even breathing coming from inside the bedroom, Ela pushed gently on the wooden door. As the door opened, the upper hinge creaked and before the room’s occupant could stir, Nuria leapt on the bed and ripped into the man’s throat. Ela’s chest and arms tingled as the scent of blood reached her, and she joined Nuria on the bed in a single step. Grabbing the flailing man’s arm, Ela bit into his bicep and, opening her mouth as wide as her jaw would allow, she sucked and tore at the underlying muscle and bone.
The creak of a floorboard in the hall brought Ela out of her blood induced euphoria. One of the heartbeats now stood on the other side of the door. Ela pushed off the bed, digging her nails into the stucco, she clung to the ceiling. Nuria remained on the bed, crouched over the dead man, her eyes fixed on the door as it slowly opened.
“Papa?” A small, dark haired boy, no older than seven stood in the doorway rubbing his eyes. “I had a bad dream.” The boy squinted into the darkness. His eyes widened as the image of Nuria crouched over his bloody and dead father came into focus. Before he could scream, Ela pounced on top of him, pinning him to the floor. She sank her teeth into the supple flesh of his neck. His blood was warmer than his father’s and tasted of peppermint and cherry.
Nuria bounded from the room in the direction of the third and final heartbeat. Ela continued to feed on the boy, content to let Nuria have what smelled like an old woman in the bedroom at the far end of the hall. She was some relation to the dead man as they shared the similar scent of burnt wood, but hers was more reminiscent of burnt wood left out in the rain.
Ela finished the last of the boy. As she stood-up, Nuria emerged, fresh blood covering her face and torso. The two women’s eyes met and before the impulse could completely form in either of their minds, they collided in the middle of the hall. Ela pinned Nuria against the wall, knocking plaster off in chunks. Nuria pushed Ela back by the shoulders, then stood panting, only a few feet separating them.
Ela took deep breaths. Nuria’s floral scent mingled with the blood, and Ela felt a tightening in her abdomen as a flush of heat and desire surged through her. Nuria quickly unbuttoned her blood stained shirt and took her trousers off. Ela followed suit, and the two women embraced.
Ela gasped as the full length of Nuria’s body came into contact with hers. Their mouths met in a series of desperate and hungry kisses as they nipped and bit at one another.
Ela pushed Nuria to the floor and straddled her. Grabbing Nuria’s hand, she pushed it against her groin. Nuria moaned and thrust two fingers into Ela, who now leaned over Nuria eagerly licking her breasts. Ela hissed as the orgasm vibrated through her. She pushed down harder against Nuria’s hand, prolonging the spasms. Crouching over Nuria’s knees, Ela ran her hands eagerly down the woman’s body, the need to possess her consuming Ela with almost the same veracity as the need for blood.
Nuria spread her legs as Ela kneeled between them. Lowering her head, Ela ran her tongue in small circles around Nuria’s clit before entering her with one and then two fingers. Thrusting her fingers in unison with her tongue, Ela felt Nuria tighten as she came. Grabbing the back of Ela’s head, Nuria pushed her closer as a second orgasm tore through her.
Ela rested her head on Nuria’s abdomen, enjoying the feeling of Nuria’s fingers running through her hair. It occurred to her there was no real reason to stop. She wasn’t tired and would never be tired. This sensation of perpetual energy was still novel to Ela, who had very clear memories of the relaxed and pleasantly spent feeling she used to have after she and Rachel had sex.
Being with Nuria was different in every way. Besides the obvious physical differences of sex as a vampire, it was driven by a deep rooted instinct that accompanied feeding in pairs or packs. She and Nuria didn’t have sex unless they hunted together.
“Are you ready?” Nuria asked.
Ela lifted her head and felt stirrings to feed again when she saw the dried blood covering Nuria’s face and neck. “Yes.”
She got up and began getting dressed. “How are we killed by humans?” Ela looked up at Nuria, who was pulling on her pants. “They’re so weak, how could they possibly kill us?”
Nuria pulled her blouse on. “Ironically, the Inquisitors only thought they were killing vampires. It’s typical of humans in their desperation to feel superior. They do themselves more harm than their intended victims.”
Ela shook her head. “I don’t understand.”
“I’m sure you‘ve noticed we lie about our weaknesses. So humans really have no idea what a vampire is.” Nuria tied her long blonde hair back in a loose knot. “They fumble around in their ignorance, making accusations of vampirism – usually in some pointless effort to explain a plague or pestilence.” Nuria smirked. “It’s the vampire’s fault everyone has boils and is dying.” She chuckled. “Superstitious fools.”
Ela had difficulty imagining Mateo so blind and ignorant. “Mateo believed these things?”
Nuria nodded. “He was one of the worst.” The two women walked out of the house and back toward the stone wall they had scaled earlier. “He laughs about it now, but when you think about it, it’s really rather sad.” Landing on the other side of the wall, Nuria continued. “Decapitations, piercing chests with iron rods, or staking dead bodies to the ground were commonplace.”
Ela wrinkled her nose. “Waste of good blood.”
Nuria laughed. “That’s what I said to Mateo when he first told me.”
The mention of blood caused Ela’s chest to tighten. “Can we grab another bite to eat on the way back?”
Nuria shook her head. “You are insatiable.” Nuria stopped and faced Ela, a faint smile on her face. “But how can I refuse you?”
Ela took Nuria’s hand. “You can’t.” She kissed her palm. “You won’t.”
Nuria sighed. “No. What’s the point?”
***
Ela had become a more proficient hunter since those early months with Nuria. Having been with Mateo’s clan for nearly three years, he had taught her how to prolong the kill and to enjoy the blood when the human was at their most frightened. Ela had learned the surge of adrenaline mixed with the blood heightened the experience.
“Pull the rope tighter, Ela.” Mateo instructed casually while leaning against a wood-planked wall.
Ela pulled down on the rope suspended from a pulley in the ceiling. On the opposite end of the rope was a man covered in sweat, blood, and dirt. His arms were bound at the wrists, pulled over his head, and suspended from the rope Ela held. He cried out when she lifted him entirely off the dirt floor of the windowless basement room.
“Please! I’m begging you to stop.” The man clenched his jaw, gritting his teeth as he spoke.
Holding the rope easily with one hand, Ela took several steps toward the man. “I’m unconvinced.” Tilting her head, she bit into the man’s side. He thrashed and kicked as much as his bound ankles would allow. Cries of pain filled the small space. Ela pulled her head back, leaving a large gash in the man’s side.
Mateo walked leisurely across the room and grasped the man’s bound ankles. “Your shoulders will dislocate shortly. You will be in tremendous pain and will begin begging us to kill you.” Mateo looked at Ela and smiled. “Rest assured we will accommodate that request.”
Tears rolled down the man’s dirt stained face as he sobbed. “Why are you doing this? I haven’t done anything to you people.”
Ela pulled on the rope. There was a loud popping sound as the man’s rig
ht shoulder dislocated. His screams mingled with Ela’s words. “Theirs not to reason why, but to do and die.” She tugged on the rope again and the man’s left shoulder tore from its socket. Ela let the rope go and the man fell to the floor. His legs buckled under him as he rolled onto his back with a loud groan.
Mateo pulled a gold pocket watch from his vest pocket, flipped it open, and smiled. “You can nearly set your watch to the exact moment the cartilage gives out.” Mateo looked at Ela. “Enjoy, my dear. I have things to attend to.”
Ela crouched over the broken man. “Ready then?” She grabbed him by the hair and pulled him to his feet. Twisting his head until his neck nearly snapped, Ela sank her teeth into the front of his throat.
Warm blood shot into her mouth. It was thinner than she preferred, but tasted of raspberries and melon. To her disappointment, the man’s heart stopped after only a few seconds. Ela flung him to the ground in disgust. “Quitter.”
Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she walked up the wooden stairs and down the hall nearest Mateo’s chambers. She was very rarely on this side of the compound and immediately caught a scent unlike any other she had experienced. It was animal and plant with faint traces of human, and it mingled with what Ela could only describe as fire. Turning down a narrow corridor just past Mateo’s room, she found herself in an expansive library. The room was floor to ceiling book shelves, each filled to capacity.
The scent permeated the room, and Ela turned and saw a beautiful blonde woman sitting on a sofa to her right with a small leather bound book in her hands. Her heartbeat was steady and so rapid it sounded like a low hum. “I’ve wanted to meet you.” The woman’s breathy falsetto voice chimed in Ela’s ears.
Ela’s blood burned. For the first time in years, she was having true difficulty controlling her thirst. The woman stood, placed the book on a small end table, and walked toward a bowl of fruit on a nearby table. “Try not to kill me. Mateo wouldn’t like that.” With her back to Ela, she picked up a pear. “Not sure what I am?”
Ela: Forever (Waking Forever) Page 11