The Night Within Us: Dark Vampire Romance

by Sylvie Grohne

  Captivated by the unusual sight I stared over at her for several minutes, until at some stage she lifted her head, and I thought for a moment what I saw before me wasn't real. In spite of the deep sadness evident on it, her pale face was enchanting. She brushed her long blonde hair back and I could make it out even better. She was no child, yet she had a girlish grace. She stared unseeing out the window before starting to look around the room. Quick as a flash, I closed the crack I'd been watching her through. I could hear her moving around the room and leafing through the books I'd left on the table. Robinson Crusoe by Daniel Defoe and Romeo and Juliet by William Shakespeare. I knew both books almost by heart, and the pages were already quite worn. Normally I took them with me into my underground refuge, but in this too I had become careless. Her steps above me wandered through the room and for a moment she stood directly over me. I had to close my eyes, her scent was so lovely and enticing.

  When she left the hut shortly afterwards, I remained behind in complete turmoil. I wished I could follow her to see where she went, but the sun hadn't completely set yet and even if it had, what point would there be? I was a 131-year-old vampire in the body of a 32-year-old man, a beast in human form, and this girl might not even have been of age yet. But these facts didn't stop me from seeing her in my mind's eye, still standing before me, and a yearning took hold of me, one I'd long forgotten existed. But why had she been crying, and why had she come to this remote hut?

  Finally, the sun died out. I arose from my shelter and hurried to the table where the books still lay, immediately taking one in my hands and holding it right up close to my nose to soak in even more deeply the scent of the stranger which still lingered on it. It made me euphoric and I almost felt a little dizzy. When I put the book down again and tried to suppress my romantic feelings, I realized I was also trying to suppress something else. My hunger. Since I'd been in Bubión I hadn't slipped up once. So far, in my new home I had always stayed true to my resolution. Yes, there had been one situation where I'd been very close to forgetting myself, but I'd managed to maintain control. The thought that this wonderful creature hadn't only sparked longing in me but also my hunger for human blood made me furious with rage and loathing for myself.

  I tore the door open and ran into the dark night. Like a madman, I ran toward Bubión, and my head only became clear again once I withdrew my teeth from a mule's neck on the edge of the village, leaving behind his corpse. Even though I'd drunk liters of the animal's blood and my hunger was stilled, my longing didn't completely die out that night. Something gnawing and dissatisfied remained within me.

  Before I returned to my hut, I washed myself in the nearby stream which lay to the north of my home. In spite of the warm weather the water was pleasantly cool. I scooped it up in my hands and splashed it on my face several times, washing it thoroughly. Now I had a clear head again.

  I was about to leave when noises upstream pulled me from my reverie. I approached warily and bent the branches of a bush apart slightly. Even before I caught sight of her, her lovely scent reached my nose and I couldn't believe what I saw before me in the pale moonlight. It was the girl from my hut. As naked as the day she was born, she sat at the edge of the stream on a stone and kept dipping her toes into the babbling waters, lost in thought. She must have bathed in the stream, because her long hair was wet and clung to her body. A body which would haunt my dreams from that moment forth; at the sight of this perfect beauty I was sure of that. An incomparable beauty which made everything inside me tighten.

  It was the cry of an owl that made her jump up in fright and reach for her white dress. The fact that in doing so she turned her back to me and her hair fell forward over her shoulders not only gave me the pleasure of seeing her exquisite, naked body once more but also enabled me to make out the weals and wounds which covered her whole back, extending all the way down to her bottom.

  She hastily pulled on her dress, looked around her and then up at the sky. I followed her gaze and, against the dark blue heavens, saw the contours of bats flying by.

  From the distance, faint barking and a voice reached my ears, breaking the still of the evening.

  “Emilia!” a bitter voice boomed through the night, dragging out each syllable. Again and again, angrier and angrier, closer and closer. The fear on her face told me she heard it now too, and at the same time it confirmed that it was her name. Emilia. I whispered it in my head, where it sounded soft and tender, nowhere near as distorted as in the yelling.

  I knew she would run back to the hut to hide, and I knew I had to be there before her. She had to come to me. Anything else felt wrong.

  I reached the hut long before her and had already pulled on a fresh shirt when I heard her approaching, breathing heavily with the exertion. Hesitantly, she stood before the door; she seemed to be listening carefully. Then she pushed the door open cautiously and slipped inside. I hid in the shadows in the darkest corner of the room so she wouldn't see me in the moonlight right away and flee. I wanted to be her defender, not another tormenter. Up till that day, the thought of me protecting someone was absurd; they needed protecting from me. I was the danger. I was the beast. But that night I felt with certainty I was no threat to her safety.

  Crying softly, she stood at the window and stared out. She was clearly frightened and her hands were clenched desperately into tight fists. The desire to protect her grew even stronger.

  “You're safe here.” My voice sounded calm and confident in the dark room, but I could see she almost died of fright. For a moment it looked like she was going to run to the door and flee the hut, but in the end she stayed motionless by the window.

  “Who's there?” Her voice trembled, and her eyes tried to make out what lay in the darkness.

  “I'm the one who will protect you.” I stepped slowly out from my corner, so she could first make out my outline, then my face.

  “Who are you?”

  “My name is Ramon, and here in my hut you are safe.”

  She stared at me in disbelief, but didn't look quite so scared anymore. Her large, violet eyes clung to my face and although it made me nervous, I secretly prayed they'd never again let me go.

  “I always thought this hut was deserted.”

  “No.”

  “But there's no bed in here.”

  “Who is after you?” I thought it better to change the subject.

  She looked hesitantly out the window a moment before answering. “My stepfather.”

  “Does he beat you?”

  She nodded and lowered her eyes briefly. Then she looked me dead in the eye again. “Yes, since my mother died six weeks ago. Since then he's usually drunk, and then I can't do anything right. Nothing. He always finds a reason to beat me.”

  “Does he hit you with his fists?”

  She nodded again and her mouth twitched slightly, because she was trying to keep from crying.

  “And with his belt. But that's not the worst. . .” Now tears did run down her face again and she wiped them away with the back of her hand.

  She didn't even have to tell me he was always groping and leching after her. I could see it in her eyes, and as she stood so close before me I stole into her mind. Her stepfather had not only beaten and harassed her again today. He had assaulted her and taken her virginity. An enraged growl escaped me and for a moment my face distorted. She pressed her back against the wall in fright, her eyes wide open.

  “Your face! What's wrong with it?”

  “You have nothing to fear from me, Emilia,” I placated her and believed firmly in my own words. I wouldn't, not for anything in the world, hurt so much as a hair on this girl's head, and there was no goddamned way I was going to let anyone else do that. The barking and angry yelling grew closer and closer. The dogs were leading their owner directly to this hut. I also heard her wondering if she shouldn't perhaps run out to him - better the devil you know, since I too frightened her terribly. I could have forced my way into her mind and ordered her not to leave, but the t
hought of manipulating her was extremely distasteful to me.

  “Stay, Emilia. Try to trust me. You can hide here.” I lifted the board that led to my bedroom, gestured to the underground room and held out my hand to her. I wasn't sure how much she could see from over by the window, but I knew she saw me. She took a few hesitant steps toward the center of the room, and it still wasn't clear whether she was going to come to me or run out the door.

  “Emilia!” The hysterical voice was now right up close to the hut and the barking was loud and striking. At the last second she came running to me and took my hand. Please don't hurt me, she begged silently in her mind and I helped her down into the room. Not because she was safer there than up in the hut. No, I didn't want her to see how I ripped her filthy stepfather to pieces and threw him to his own dogs to eat.

  27

  Amkaya

  When I open my eyes, the light of the setting sun gets in them. I'm lying on the backseat of a car whose motor is humming gently in the background. I lift my head.

  “Hello, sunshine.” Noah turns back briefly from the driver's seat and winks at me.

  “Where are we?” I ask him, sitting up and looking out the window. The dark sky over the desert landscape shines yellow, orange and flaming red.

  “We'll be in Las Vegas in about twenty minutes.” He hands me back a Canada Dry and I give him a grateful smile. I empty the can in one go. The thirst is always worst after my return to the land of the living.

  “Music?” Before I can answer him, guitar riffs pour forth from the speakers and Richie Kotzen's soulful, husky voice sings 'Larger Than Life'. Noah drums his fingertips on the steering wheel in time with it and hums along quietly.

  I squeeze my torso sideways between the front seats, lay my arms around his neck and kiss him on his stubbly cheeks, running my fingers through his wild hair he wears in a shaggy look.

  “So Vegas today, huh?” I ask and he nods in time with the song.

  “Our time in LA was amazing. Maybe we should have stayed one more day,” I say.

  “Vegas is going to be even better,” he says, turning his head and kissing me.

  “Really?” I ask.

  He looks into my eyes for a moment and says, “I promise.”

  I fall onto the cushions of the backseat again and watch out the window as the sun slowly sinks toward the horizon.

  Our crazy road trip across the United States is like a high I never want to end. How often in the past few weeks have I awoken after lovemaking to find myself on the backseat of a car or in a strange hotel room? I can't even count anymore. Theoretically we could beam ourselves anywhere, but Noah never takes me with him using his magical means of transport, even when I'm temporarily dead. His fear of what might happen if I came alive halfway through is far too great. After all, he can't take anything living with him and the duration of my death isn't predictable, the last few weeks have clearly showed that. The length of my death sleep ranges from a few minutes to several hours.

  The carefree way we're living day to day, city to city has something childlike to it. We've blocked out the watchers, along with the underworld and simply everything else. As if there are only the two of us.

  The last few weeks haven't just passed at a crazy speed, they've also changed me. The beast and I – we've grown together. I've stopped splitting my dark side off from myself and started accepting it as a part of me, which is slowly dissolving the self-hatred within me and making me stronger. It's much easier to be around people and my strong sensory perception hardly bothers me anymore. Almost like hunters, Noah and I are now able to understand each other through little signals when we run into people who are doomed. We call them AD for short – Almost Dead. Because of my fear that the hunger might become more frequent if I feed from human blood too often, we usually enjoy our own special type of dinner together no more than once a week.

  My view of the world has changed. Sometimes it still seems foreign to me, but it feels good. As if I was laced into a corset before and now I'm able to breathe much more freely. I can't say when the change happened and killing became natural to me, an accepted necessity in order to survive. Was it in Half Moon Bay, in the luxury resort with Scottish inspired design, while we watched whales along the coast through a telescope and I felt the blood of an AD still nice and warm in my stomach? Was it then that I first became truly aware of the change? It's not to be mistaken for indifference, because that's in no way what I feel. It's far more a deep gratitude for the people whose lives give me life. Meanwhile I understand that even immortality comes with conditions and dying for real isn't as impossible as I thought. Blake's death was very insightful for me in many ways.

  Since I have Noah in my life, I carry no doubts anymore about whether I want to live. No longer only exist, but really live. The many times I've already died in his arms have shown me that nothing is as wonderful as the moment when I open my eyes once more and look into his. My soul finds its way back to him every time.

  I clamber into the front seat and stare in awe at the bright sea of lights in the desert city which now lies directly in front of us. I lay my hand gently on his thigh and press my fingers softly into the material of his jeans, whereupon he grabs them and doesn't let go.

  In the Encore Hotel where we are checking in, we hand over our rental car. Noah fills in the registration forms and passes the receptionist his inexhaustible credit card.

  “Thank you, Mr. Sandman,” she beams and hands him the room key. “The suite is on the 51st floor. The bellhop is already on the way up with your luggage. I wish you and your wife a pleasant stay.”

  “Thanks,” he replies, “I'm sure it will be.”

  “Did you hear that?” I ask in the elevator. “She thought we were married.”

  “She just read the registration form well.”

  “Ha, well would you look at that. You move fast, huh? You've cheated me out of the wedding dress and cake,” I say, amused, as we arrive on our floor and the elevator doors open.

  “Wow, look at that view,” I call out to Noah as we enter our room, which has floor length windows. The view of the brightly lit Las Vegas Strip is fascinating.

  He embraces me. “What do you feel like doing? Do you want to take in one of the attractions? Go to the casino? Get some dinner?”

  “First, I want to shower, then have a little something to eat, throw back a few cocktails and try our luck at the tables. How would that be?”

  “Okay, that sounds good. I'll get some new clothes. I don't have anything suitable for a casino. Meanwhile, you can have a shower and freshen up,” says Noah, giving me a kiss, and with that he's gone.

  I've blow-dried my hair and I'm almost done prettying myself up when he comes into the bathroom naked, casts me a sizzling look and disappears into the shower. While I wait for him, I play with the remote for the lights and the curtains, flick through the TV programs and keep casting glances at the evening city which is ablaze with lights. I have butterflies in my stomach in anticipation of going exploring together.

  Then he is back and I chew on my lower lip, clearly taken with the man before me. He is wearing a black, well-cut suit, a white shirt on which he has left the top two buttons open and elegant leather shoes. An unusual sight.

  “Look at you. You're looking very serious,” I marvel and he raises an eyebrow.

  “Does that mean you like it?”

  “Like it? I love it,” I tell him in delight and reach for my purse, ready to hit the road. “Let's go then.”

  Twenty minutes later we're sitting in the Cheesecake Factory in Caesar's Palace. I order the Chicken Bellagio and Noah and I make up funny and adventurous stories about the people around us. It's unbelievable how many comical or even just interesting people are walking down Las Vegas Boulevard. While I enjoy my crumbed chicken breast with parmesan crust, Noah sticks to his wine and nibbles on a few nuts. It turns out he really doesn't reach for this type of food often and when he does, he eats very little of it.

  After t
he meal, our curiosity drives us through a series of impressive themed hotels, casinos and bars. I wouldn't have thought the artificial desert city would be able to win me over like it does. It's like a Disneyland for adults. We play a few rounds of roulette and poker in the casinos, but it's not really fun if you know how to win. I won a whole lot of money with Airas in the past gambling, because we always knew what was going through the minds of the other players, but with Noah it's even simpler. He wins every game and is in total control of the roulette wheel with his magic too. When the croupier calls out “No more bets, please,” then the ball is guaranteed to fall on either his number or mine. After winning a few thousand dollars we call it quits because we don't want to attract attention and we don't need the money. Noah's credit card opens all doors for us. I've kept one of the tokens. I'll stick the brightly colored chip into my scrapbook later, which already boasts heaps of newly filled pages thanks to our trip. Cassie would be proud of me.

  My feet are hurting by now from walking so much, because I stupidly chose a pair of shoes I haven't worn in yet. So we make ourselves comfortable in a quiet bar and drink caipirinhas and pina coladas.

  “I saw you do it,” I say and sip my cocktail.

  “What do you think you saw?”

  “When we left the casino you made the couple on the one-armed-bandit win the jackpot.”