Bloodlust

by Kramer, D. L.

  I nodded, his explanation making sense. We’d been planning on taking them for the same reasons.

  We fell silent as we waited. Rosie checked my side, then Jozef’s arm. She got enough gauze to clean both, then put butterfly bandages on them until they healed. After several minutes, we heard the door downstairs open. I knew Rosie could hear the bells and likely voices, but I doubted she would be able to make out the conversation like we were. A few minutes later, I could hear them on the stairs.

  “Rosie?” Nicholas came to the top of the stairs and I could feel the sheer terror in him, even though he did his best to hide it in his voice. A quick glance to Marcella and Jozef told me they felt it, too.

  “We’re in here,” Rosie called to him, standing up from where she’d sat on the sofa and walking to the door to meet them.

  “This detective was here to talk to Michael,” Nicholas’ voice came from the hall.

  “In here,” Rosie motioned for Rasmussen to come into the room. I heard Nicholas tell her quietly that he needed to talk to her privately. Rosie excused herself as Rasmussen came in, closing the door behind herself as she stepped out into the hall.

  “Detective,” I stood to greet him. He was still wearing casual clothes, but I could hear the strength of his heartbeat, stronger now than it had been even the last time I’d seen him.

  “Michael,” he nodded to me, then Marcella, pausing on Jozef. I felt his hesitation, but his discipline and training took control.

  “Wait,” Marcella held up one finger to him, then motioned for all of us to be quiet. I turned my attention to the door, listening for Rosie and Nicholas’ voices. It was obvious that was what Marcella wanted to listen for.

  “—just can’t do this anymore,” Nicholas was saying, his tone stressed. Anxious. Afraid.

  “Nick, I can’t just ignore my family,” Rosie said. “You knew I had to help my grandmother when you met me. You said you understood when we told you what my grandmother is.”

  “It’s not that,” Nicholas said. There was a pause. “I love you, Rosie, but I can’t handle them anymore. Your grandmother and Michael were bad enough, but now this other one is here.” Another pause. “What they are isn’t natural, Rosie. It’s not normal.”

  Marcella’s growl was drowned out by Jozef’s.

  I had to admit I was tempted to add my own to theirs.

  I wondered what Rasmussen’s would sound like when he developed one.

  “I can’t leave them, Nick,” Rosie said. “My grandmother and even Michael are the only family I’ve had since my father died.”

  “I was supposed to be your family.”

  “You wanted into our family,” Rosie corrected. “I told you what they were. I told you what it meant. You said you understood, but you loved me enough to be here.”

  A long pause this time.

  “What if they turn you into one of them?” I could tell he was grasping now, his mind telling him even the irrational was possible.

  I badly wanted to walk out into the hall and slap him as hard as I could. Not so much for what he was saying about us, but for what he was doing to Rosie.

  I realized I should probably be ready to tackle Marcella at any moment.

  I wondered how badly it would hurt and whose side Jozef would be on.

  “It doesn’t work like that and you know it.” Anger in Rosie’s voice this time. I could hear the subtle undertones of pain, but her anger was taking precedence.

  “I’m sorry,” Nicholas said. “I just can’t do this anymore. It’s me or them, Rosie.”

  Another long pause. I could feel the pain in Rosie’s breathing, the emotions she struggled to keep under control. Her fierce dedication and love for Marcella.

  “Then you were never really willing to be part of our family, Nick,” she said, her voice quiet. “I’ll make arrangements to pick up my things from the house.”

  Then nothing else except her footsteps as she walked back down to the door, opened it and came back into the room.

  We could all see it in her eyes and her expression as she came in and closed the door behind herself. She took a slow breath, then exhaled it.

  “I’m sure you all heard that,” she said.

  I nodded as Marcella growled again.

  “Even I could,” Rasmussen said, sounding a bit guilty for having overheard it.

  “I’m sorry, Rosie,” I told her, hoping it sounded as sincere as I wanted it to. I knew Marcella had tried to accept Nicholas for Rosie’s sake, to make him feel welcome in their small family.

  She nodded her head and came back to sit on the couch. “I figured it was coming for a while,” she said. “The miscarriages were hard on us and I know he’s been afraid of you all.” She struggled to keep her emotions under control. Even knowing it could happen, it was going to be hard on her.

  Jozef studied her for a long moment. “How long were you married to this man?” He asked her.

  “It would be seven years this fall,” Rosie answered. “I met him just after my father died.”

  “You lost babies?”

  “Four,” Marcella answered for Rosie, obviously wanting to protect her from having to talk about it if she could.

  Jozef moved in one fluid motion, leaving his chair and practically vaulting over the table to sit in front of Rosie. He reached over and took her hand.

  “I’ll tell you a story sometime, of Marcella’s father’s father,” he told her. “But right now I’ll only tell you the end. This man, this Nicholas,” he pulled her gently forward, his fingers looking remarkably old and yellowed against the smooth skin of Rosie’s hand and wrist. “He loved you here,” he continued, tapping her on the forehead. “He did not love you here,” he tapped her chest over her heart next. “When you find the man who loves you here,” he tapped her chest again. “This will not matter to him.” He used his other hand to wave around at the rest of us. “He will see you in Marcella and he will know you for your heart. You will have children and he will love them as much as he loves you.”

  Rosie turned her head slightly and I saw a tear slip down one cheek.

  Jozef patted her hand. “This Nicholas is not worth tears,” he said, reaching over and drying her cheek. I noticed the tenderness in his movements, the quiet reassurance in his voice, even with the strength of his tone.

  It was powerful. And he wasn’t a monster.

  He was understanding, supportive, compassionate. He had lived over a thousand years and still held onto his humanity. Even with a great granddaughter he had only just met.

  Perhaps it was possible after all.

  “I’m sure I’ll still cry over him,” Rosie said, managing a smile.

  “You’re staying here,” Marcella told her. “I’ll get your things from the house.”

  “I can take care of it,” Rasmussen said. “It might be better if someone not involved helped her with that.”

  I nodded to him. He had a good point. I was sure he could arrange for a normal police escort to go with her just to avoid anything dramatic.

  He even managed to stare down the look Marcella gave him.

  The next couple of years were going to be interesting. I wondered how long until she tried putting him in what she thought was his place.

  “Thank you,” Rosie said to Rasmussen.

  “So why are you here?” I asked Rasmussen, realizing he was only going to come by here if he had information on Aleksander’s location or his followers.

  “Oh,” Rasmussen nodded, pausing as he remembered why he’d come. “One of those punks who owe me a favor gave me something interesting.” He paused to take a folded up piece of paper from his back pocket. “Your friend is staying at a rather pricey hotel downtown with his girlfriend. Apparently they had a fight a couple of nights ago and she left and hasn’t been back since.” He handed me the paper. “That’s where he’s staying.”

  I took the paper from him, intrigued by this. Gianna had stormed off after some quarrel? Perhaps there were more problems in paradi
se than I thought.

  Or perhaps it was all just for show.

  Yes, Aleksander, I knew you well enough to suspect just that.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Advantages

  I never really thought about marrying and having a family before I was infected. I was too caught up in the now moments of my life. After I was infected, it became even less of a priority. Once Marcella told me the infection made us sterile, it ceased to be any sort of priority at all. I wasn’t going to subject myself to losing someone I cared about or risk infecting them. I’d had companions off and on at first, mostly for the company and just to wake up with someone else there.

  Eventually I tired of the empty relationships and dedicated my life to one of solitude broken up with occasional visits with Marcella and her grandchildren.

  I’m sure there are monks out there who would envy me. I knew of other artists who did.

  Aleksander, on the other hand, never seemed to tire of women.

  Gianna was the latest in a long line I could remember him seeing. Though she was the first one who was infected that I knew about.

  I had to wonder what they’d argued about that had caused her to leave and not go back for the last two days.

  I stayed a while at Marcella’s, making sure Rosie was all right and discussing our plans with Jozef. He was more than willing to help us and had apparently been tracking Aleksander down for several months. He’d followed him since shortly after their run-in, which was something he didn’t really want to go into detail about. I couldn’t really blame him, I tried to forget as many details about Aleksander as I could.

  We agreed on a basic plan that would begin to take more shape after I went to Aleksander’s meeting tonight. Details would be worked out after I got back.

  I felt better about our chances now, though. Jozef would be a tremendous help and having fought with him myself, I had little doubt he’d have no problem with those Aleksander had infected. Rasmussen would be a lot of help, too. His skill and training with firearms would give him an advantage.

  I left Marcella’s and went back to my studio, traveling by rooftop most of the distance. I didn’t want to bother with the people on the street below. My side still ached some, but my elbow was practically better by the time I reached the roof of my building.

  As I walked toward the roof access door, I realized I’d counted one hundred forty six buildings between Marcella’s shop and my studio building.

  Odd, I couldn’t remember counting those before. Then again, I rarely went the whole way by rooftop, preferring to walk on street level or taking a taxi if the weather was something I didn’t want to be out in for long.

  I went inside, carefully checking my surroundings as I walked down the stairs to my floor. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary and I didn’t pick up any out of place scents.

  Back in my studio, I hung my hat on the hook inside the door and tossed my coat onto the table to mend later. I didn’t feel up to it right now. My mind had other things to think about.

  Tonight. Rosie. Jozef. Aleksander and Gianna.

  Myself.

  I went over to my work area and studied my painting, my eyes moving slowly and carefully over each section between glances at the photos to check for detail and accuracy.

  Over the years, I’d come to know perhaps three dozen others like myself. Some seemed to come in and out of my life, like Aleksander, while others I met once then hadn’t seen again. Then there was Marcella. When I’d left her house in Italy, it hadn’t even been another year before I saw her again. At first I thought our paths just crossed by coincidence, but over time I came to realize she was checking up on me. After even more time, I realized she wasn’t about to let me out of her sight for too long.

  I’d thought it was just for the company; to have someone else to talk to that she got along with for the most part.

  Now I was starting to think it was because I reminded her of her grandfather and it was her way of trying to keep close to him. Perhaps she had suspected her grandfather was the one who’d infected me all along.

  I certainly wasn’t going to ask her. I knew better.

  With Jozef back now, I couldn’t help but wonder if that would change the dynamics of our lives.

  Would I miss having Marcella and Rosie around? Normally I’d only see them every two or three months, but there was some comfort in knowing they were nearby. I knew I’d miss Rosie. I’d seen her grow up and she truly was a remarkable young woman. Which is why it angered me so much to hear what Nicholas had said to her. No one gave more of herself to her family than Rosie did. I suppose I viewed her like a favorite niece.

  Agreed, Marcella and I weren’t the most congenial or attractive people and we were prone to violence when the need arose. But we had never threatened Nicholas and I knew we’d both tear out our own hearts before we’d hurt Rosie.

  And now Rosie was facing losing her husband and the years she’d invested in her life with him.

  Because of us.

  Or was it? Was it really because of us, or was Nicholas just using us an excuse for his own unhappiness? He’d never struck me as being overly affectionate or even all that mature. There was no denying he was afraid of us. We could feel that in him every time he looked at us just as clearly as we could feel the wind blow or the rain fall.

  It wasn’t us.

  We couldn’t help what we were anymore than someone could help what color their skin was.

  But Rosie was going to have a hard time. I knew Marcella was going to be there for her to talk to whenever she needed it. I wondered if that would be enough, though. I was coming to the conclusion that sometimes having someone different to talk to wasn’t always a bad thing.

  Now I was sure the world was ending.

  Next thing you know I’d be wanting to actually meet people out in public for tea and go to the cinema.

  Maybe just one step at a time. Best not to get too far ahead of myself.

  I glanced at the clock over in the kitchen. I still had a couple of hours before I needed to head back to the warehouse to meet up with Aleksander. I hadn’t looked in a mirror since the fight with Jozef. Considering how Rosie had reacted when she saw us, I was sure I looked pretty rough.

  I spent a little more time with my painting, checking how it was drying, paying close attention to the finer details. Looking at the shading from different angles. It needed to be as close to lifelike as possible to be effective. I’d be finished with the rose bush soon. I suppose I’d work on the dog next. I wanted to save the boy and girl for last, so I could make sure to bring them out of the background to be the focal point.

  About an hour before I was supposed to be there, I showered and changed into clean clothes. My usual coat was dry enough to take now, which was good, my old one would need to be cleaned and mended before it could be seen in public again.

  Sometimes those Victorian standards could be an inconvenience. But no one would ever be able to accuse me of looking like a slob.

  I still missed waistcoats. It would have been outstanding to walk into Aleksander’s wearing a finely tailored shirt, coat and trousers, fitted waistcoat and top hat. As it was, my more modern attire would have to do. Sometimes blending with the masses was not very much fun.

  I left my studio, coat draped over my arm and hat securely tilted on my head to hide my scars as best it could. I locked the door behind me, then almost as an afterthought reminded myself I still needed to ask Marcella when she’d made a key.

  I traveled by rooftop once more. The buildings were easy to jump between and I only gave a slight pause between each one to make sure there was no one who would see me. It was only when I neared the river that I had to jump to the ground.

  I moved cautiously now, my every sense alert and searching for signs of danger. Aleksander had double-crossed me before and I wasn’t about to let him do it again. I flexed my fingers slowly, tested my elbow but found no pain, then slowly extended my claws for a few seconds before retracting them
.

  I suppose I was as ready as I could be. Hopefully if anything was going to go wrong tonight, Marcella’s sense of danger would warn her again.

  Hopefully she wasn’t so caught up in Jozef and Rosie that she’d ignore it.

  Though I already knew the only one here who was any real threat to me was Aleksander. He was older, but I was stronger and fought better.

  I picked up his scent about a half mile from the warehouse. I noted there was no sign of Gianna’s and decided I’d have to ask Aleksander about that.

  Nothing like prying and twisting emotional daggers if I could.

  I might even get lucky and he’d let something slip.

  About a block before the warehouse, I caught Aleksander’s silhouette by the corner of another building. I stopped and turned toward him, not speaking, but simply waiting.

  “I was hoping you’d actually come!” he called to me, coming out of the shadows and walking towards me. “This means the world to me, Mikhos. Having your help here will make things come to fruition that much faster.”

  Bastard.

  He was dressed fairly well, though I noticed his hair was a bit unkempt and his makeup not quite as smoothly applied.

  “Why do you even bother with that?” I asked him, waving towards his face.

  He lightly touched his cheek. “It helps the new ones not be quite so frightened,” he explained, then paused. “Though I suppose after they meet you, I won’t have anything to worry about.”

  I growled at him, not bothering to try to hide the threat in it. I was not going to be his hired muscle and stand around just to scare people for him. He knew better than to even suggest that.

  “You have to admit, Mikhos, you do have a rather startling look to you,” he pointed out. I noticed he did take a slight step back, though.

  I tilted my head to look at him with my white eye.

  He got the point with that and changed the subject.

  “I’m expecting about forty or so tonight,” he said. “Mostly those who are trying to get into my good graces, but there will be a few who have been infected here as well.”