by Atha, DL
“In the background, I could hear Irena. I could smell the scented bathwater clinging to her skin. She smelled of lust and roses. I gripped the doorframe and the wood crumbled in my hands. I chaffed under the restriction. I wanted her so very badly.
“‘Yes, we are even,’ I said. ‘I cursed your son, and you cursed me. But now you must protect yourself. What do you offer for your own life?’
“She eyed me suspiciously for a moment before taking a deep breath of resolution. I knew she had no love of Irena. She was her servant after all. I had been a servant as well, and I had not loved my masters. ‘Come in,’ she said and stood back from the doorway.
“I stepped through the now powerless threshold and caught the servant’s chin in my hand. ‘Tell me truthfully, did Irena act of her own free will or was she merely your puppet?’ I questioned.
“‘She is her own person. She was in a bad way with a child growing in her belly, and to be married into the royal family,’ the maid answered, ‘she needed a scapegoat, and I suggested you. After all, your many rejections stung her pride. My people are powerful—our shamans strong. Over the years, I have poisoned your sleep, and the night that you were accused, I drew you from your sleep and brought you to us. But she was as guilty as I. Without her accusing words, mine would have meant nothing. Your life was meaningless to her.’
“‘The child,’ I whispered more to myself than to the maid. ‘I had forgotten.’
“‘The child is dead; Irena’s womb was poisoned by her father,’ the maid answered.
“‘To whom did the baby belong?’ I asked.
“The maid only shrugged her shoulders. ‘Does it matter?’ she asked.
“She was right. It did not matter at all. I pulled her face close to mine so that she might see the levity in my eyes. ‘Leave this place and speak of me to no one. Do not return. I do not care how you accomplish it, but if I ever see you after this night, I will feel no obligation to spare your life again.’
“She held my gaze evenly, considering my commands and deciding she could live with them, she nodded once, and I let her pull from my grasp.
“‘Woman,’ I caught her arm as an afterthought as she stepped past me, goose bumps standing up beneath my fingertips. ‘My intentions were truly to honor your son. His body lies three strides west of the eastern trail fork. Perhaps he can still find peace.’
“Her hardened expression melted somewhat, but she did not look at me as she spoke. ‘Perhaps there will be peace for you both,’ she said and walked away without looking back. I waited as she disappeared into the darkness before I turned to reap the only peace I knew I would ever find.
“Unaware of my presence, Irena continued to bathe in the back room. The tinkling of water dripping from a lifted limb drifted through the thin walls of the house and into the living space where I stood. She hummed to herself as she leaned back into the tub, a satisfied moan on her lips.
“With footsteps as light as the air itself, I entered her bedroom, coming to stand silently behind her as she soaked in the water. Mist rose from the heat of the bath. A clock chimed the top of the hour from within the living room, its sound causing her to startle. A dollop of water splashed over the side of the tub, pooling on the hardwood floors below.
“She felt my presence behind her, and she whirled in the bath only to find the space behind her empty. She called for the maid, ‘Anna! Get in here! You should not leave me alone.’
“Angry, she leaned back into the bathtub, but her skin crawled, and she could not get comfortable. Getting no response, she shouted again, ‘Anna! Now! I want to get out!’ Again she waited.
“Exasperated, she kicked at the water with her toes, splashing it onto the floor. “Well, you are just going to end up cleaning a mess if you do not make haste now!’ Irena waited a moment, then thrust her foot sharply down into the tub again, showering the wall in front of her with warm water. It ran down the wallpaper that only the rich could afford, collecting on the baseboards.
“‘Anna?’ Irena’s voice now held somewhat of a question, but hearing my soft footsteps behind her, she stood up, her backside to me. Expecting Anna with her robe, she pushed both arms out behind her as I slipped the robe onto her arms and across her shoulders. I reached round in front of her and brought the edges together, nuzzling her neck.
“‘I thought you left…’ she giggled, placing her hands on my arms. Her fingers traced across my cold skin, but it took her a couple of breaths before her mind caught onto what the pads of her fingers were telling her. Her breath hitched and her heart paused in her chest.
“My skin was wet with rain. Bits of dirt and leaves still stained me from the grave, and she lifted muddy hands from my arms, holding them up at strange angles as if they did not belong to her.
“My physical and emotional needs were one and the same, and I pressed them both against her. My body was naked, and so was my mind as I allowed the rage to pour from me to her. My consciousness caressed her mind while my hands roamed her body. My need for revenge pressed hard against her backside. I let my mind race unfettered through hers, ripping away whatever pretenses she used with everyone who thought they understood her. No one knew her the way I did in those moments.
“Irena was a petted, petulant woman whose every craving had been instantaneously granted. She lacked any real emotion or true feelings for anyone with the exception of her father. I am not sure if love is what she truly felt for him, but she did at the very least respect him. She appreciated his head for business and his logic. It was a trite and small emotion, just beginning to bud with age, but it was there.
“But although I searched every crevice of her conscious and unconscious thought, I could find not one shed of remorse for what she had done to me. I was nothing to her except what the chaff was to the grain. Necessary to provide a service but worth nothing once the service was complete.
“That is not to say she did not feel contrite, for she felt very sorry indeed but only because she had to face the unhappy consequences of her actions. Her contrition was not that of the woman who realizes her sin and falls humbly on her knees to beg for a forgiveness that she knows she does not deserve.
“‘Your lover is dead and your maid is gone. Your father will no doubt drink late into the night, so I have all evening to enjoy you.’ I spoke the words, although she could see my thoughts as I forced them into her mind. I spoke only because I enjoyed the way my voice made her shake all the more. I wanted to reach all her senses.
“I lifted her from the bathtub, my cold hands leaving a trail of dirt across her skin. Touching her reminded me of the silk curtains that hung in my master’s house. As a child, I had stroked those curtains once and my mother had whipped me out of fear of our master’s response. Irena was the smoothest, softest person I have ever touched.
“The robe I had placed on her fell apart as I swung her up in my arms. Her skin was alabaster white, unmarred and unmarked. Her breasts heaved from fear in the lamplight, the darkness of her nipples disappearing into the shadows along with the deep triangle where her legs met her body. Drops of rose-scented water slipped onto my feet as I carried her to the bed.
“I pushed the robe farther from her body and lowered myself onto her. After the cold of the grave, she was like a hot fire on a winter night. My skin tingled next to hers; my fingertips burned with her warmth. She tried to shrink from me and from the unnatural feel of my skin on hers, but I would not let her. Instead, I pulled her closer so that every part of her body touched mine.
“‘Is this not what you wanted?’ I teased. ‘Why do you pull away from me? Is my skin too cold? Is it too wet? Does the dirt from my skin stain the purity of yours?’
“She was too frightened to speak and could only stare at me dumbly. I could read from her mind that she had never paid for any of her actions before and she was clearly stunned that she would be held accountable now. Her mind was grasping for anyone else to blame.
“’Let me be clear, Irena, that it was by you
r sins that I was judged and condemned. By your sins, everything important to me was stripped away. Not your father’s, although he will pay for his part in my suffering, and not your maid’s. Your actions were solely your own.’
“Still, she had nothing to say. No words by which to console me, and I certainly had none for her. What I wanted was to hurt her in every way imaginable. I wanted to strip away her dignity, her beauty, her pride and arrogance. I wanted to touch her everywhere and in every way that was horrifying. I wanted to defile her.
“In her conscious thought, I recreated the man that I had been a mere fourteen days before when my hands had been as warm as my eyes. My human lips caressed hers while our legs intertwined in the throes of passion. In this vision, I came to her as the beautiful servant that she had desired.
“I caressed her body with my mouth; my hands roamed her breasts, and she arched her back to push them farther into my hands. I nipped at their fullness, my fangs sliding easily through her skin, but she never noticed as deep under my control as she was. Her body and mind were both throbbing with need, and she opened herself up to me, begging for me to enter.
“Then I pulled those happy, comfortable images from her mind and let her reality shine through. The hands that plagued her were cold and dirty. Her breasts were pressed against the filth of my body, and there was not enough warmth in my eyes to inspire anything but utter despair. I was poised to enter her, and she could feel the warmth of her own wetness.
“‘You wanted me, Irena and you have been wanting me for the last half-hour, and now I am going to give you what you have asked for.’
“She begged me then, offering me things that are of no value to the undead. Money, possessions. Position. Things which had been of no value to me before my transformation and which certainly meant nothing to me now.
“I laughed at her offers and positioned myself to take from her what I had already paid for with the whip. With my every thrust, I would peel the skin from her back with my nails, and finally I would crack her body asunder with the force of my desire.
“But in the end, I found I could not do it. I could not be the rapist that she had claimed I was. I would not give her that power over me. She would not dictate what I was or had ever been.
“No doubt, I still caused her plenty of pain. I marked her more times than I can remember. Her skin came off her back in long thin strips that made her beg for mercy. The joints of her limbs bent easily in my hands while her bones crumpled with my lightest touch. Multiple puncture wounds covered her body, graze marks leading from one set of fang marks to another. Blood streaked her white skin, and what I could not capture with my tongue stained the sheets and the walls.
“I left her haphazardly on the bed. She was quite a mess, and I disguised nothing. Her eyes gazed unseeing at the ceiling above her. Her mouth was pulled back in a grimace, her teeth shiny and white against the blue of her lips. Her thick blonde hair, clotted with blood, lay out in waves against the red-stained bed sheets.
“Her heart still beat, straining to circulate what small amount of her life blood remained. Just enough to keep her alive until morning when her father would find her. Just enough that she remained semi-conscious of her surroundings. Her only movements were to try to wet her lips and blink her eyes. I smiled in approval; she would be quite a vision for her father.
“The night was still young by the time I had finished with Irena, and still no one had come for me. It seemed the maid had been true to her promise. I had pulled from Irena’s mind that her father would not return for several hours, so I had time to consider what I would do when my actions were discovered.
“It was only a matter of time, of course. The condition and nature of my death would have the occupants of the fort on high alert, so when news of Irena’s attack made its way around the fort, I would be the first and only suspect.
“Ivan would come himself. He was a man of honor. He always had been, and he would no doubt blame himself for agreeing to bury me with no precautions, as I had asked of him.
“I was under no delusions as to the outcome of my future. I could not run or hide, for you must remember, as I said earlier, that a vampire cannot leave his first tomb for six months. We are bound for that time to the homeland of our vampire birth and to our grave. Ivan had buried me, and so he would find me.
“What would I do when my only friend came for me? Would I kill him and feast upon his blood? Would I curse him as I was cursed? I swore to myself that I would not. I would rather feel the fire of the stake at his hand than taste his blood upon my lips. If I must be staked, let it be his hand that thrust the blow.
“The duke lingered long at his card game with the Baranov that night. I helped myself to a change of his clothes while I waited. I then settled onto a chair beside Irena’s bed while I carved a stake out of a stick of firewood.
“Irena stirred as I did so, opening her eyes and looking wildly around the room. Her gaze finally settled on me. She struggled to sit up but could not find the strength and dropped her head back down into the fullness of the blankets. Sluggishly, she licked her lips and swallowed, hoping for speech. Her hands trembled from the combination of fear, pain, and exhaustion.
“‘What will happen to me now?’ she whispered through her bruised lips.
“‘Now you have only to die, and my plans will be fulfilled,’ I answered.
“‘What will happen… when I die?’ Her body shuddered with the thought.
“I leaned over her now so that she might see the full truth in my eyes. ‘You will awake, buried under the ground in a tomb from which you cannot escape. The priests will ensure that you are buried correctly with crossed arms and crucifixes. Perhaps they will decapitate you so that you spend eternity with your head buried between your knees and facing Hell. And you will scream inwardly, you will curse the day you were born, but no one will hear you. I should know, Irena. Because of you, I have been there.’
“‘I will not be the only one,’ she sneered at me. ‘This time, you will not escape the grave.’
“‘It is the price I willingly pay to ensure your suffering. And that of your father’s.’
“Her eyes widened as she remembered the duke. ‘My father, please.’ Irena’s voice quavered and broke in a sob. Her tear ducts spasmed with the effort, but she had no fluids to spare on tears. ‘Please don’t hurt him,’ she pleaded.
“‘Why should he be spared?’ I asked.
“‘Father loves me. He did not know of my lies.’
“‘Perhaps he did not care,’ I answered as I continued my work on the stake.
“She continued to shake her head no. The blood that had dried in her hair cracked and splintered with her movements. ‘No. He knew nothing. He is innocent.’
“‘What exactly did he not know, Irena? That you were a whore and a liar? Or did he not know that he took the one thing from me that mattered? I must say I am surprised that you are wasting breath upon him. I did not think you cared for anyone that much.’
“‘Please,’ she begged again.
“‘Have no worries. It is only you that I desire to spend eternity with. I have no designs on your father’s eternal soul. Only his happiness.’
“‘He did those things to you out of love for me.’ Her voice sputtered and nearly gave out as she coughed up some specks of fresh blood. I had deeply lacerated her neck. She exhaled and blood plumed from her lips in tiny red bubbles.
“‘He will always love you, Irena. That is why it will hurt so much.’
“I tired of talking to her now and whispering an incantation that she could not ignore; I pressed my will forcefully through her mind and pushed her dying body back into sleep.”
“The duke did not see my disjointed figure sitting in the corner when he returned in the wee hours of the morning. Vodka mingled with his breath and sweat lined his armpits from the walk home. He was cursing silently to himself about the Baranov and the indecent amount of money he had lost to the man over cards when he walked int
o Irena’s bedroom to check on her.
“The lamp still burned in the corner of the room, and in its light, Irena’s blood glimmered dully. The duke let out a garbled cry when he saw his daughter spread out on the bed. He took a step backwards from the shock and swung around to look behind him. Turning quickly back around, he produced a weapon from his pocket, an intricately carved revolver, and swung it from one corner of the room to the next. I had touched his mind so that he did not see me watching him from my corner.
“With hesitant steps, he approached Irena’s bed, mumbling crooning noises that only parents can make for their children. He thought her dead, but like any human, he hoped that by not knowing for sure, it would make it not true.
“He patted her leg gently once he reached the bed as he whispered her name again, and getting no response, he stretched out a tentative trembling hand and pushed her neck to the side. His fingers traced the puncture wounds of my fangs in her neck and then followed the track marks to her shoulders and down to her wrists. The bones of her hand crackled under his fingers as he turned it over. Pulling his hand away, he stared numbly at the blood on his fingertips.