The Hunger

by Dandridge Doug

  “And what can I do to help you get her, Monsignor?”

  “You can go about your business, in your own house.”

  “Like a goat staked out for the tiger?” said Padillas with a grunting laugh.

  “Very much like that, Mr. Padillas,” said the priest, nodding his head. “And I will be the hunter, waiting in the blind to kill her.”

  “Before or after she takes the goat from the stake?” said George Padillas.

  “I won’t lie to you, Mr. Padillas,” said the priest, looking the man in the eye. “Hopefully before. Assuredly after. But I will do my best to make it before.”

  “OK, Monsignor,” said Padillas, standing and offering his hand to O’Connor. “You’re welcome in my house. Just as long as you get her for me. Or save enough of her for me to get my own satisfaction.”

  O’Connor stood and took the offered hand, smiling back as he shook it. But wondering if maybe he had made a deal with a different devil to kill the one he was after.

  * * *

  Lucinda opened her eyes as she was screaming into the heated darkness of the attic. Her instincts told her that it was early afternoon, the hottest part of the day, and the strongest sunlight. But safe enough for her to walk in the light of day, though she would be as weak as any mortal.

  The baby dream, she thought with a shudder. Of course it was time for that sequence to play itself back in her head. But I wish that particular dream would just go away. Years of wishing had had no impact on the sequence. That dream had always left her drained, while renting space in her brain for the following entire day.

  She had only been a vampire for a couple of days, living in a crypt, sleeping in the coffin that had been her resting place for the three days before her awakening, feeding on whoever happened to wander past the graveyard. Once she had woken as the sun had just crested the horizon, feeling danger in the air. She had fled to one of the large crypts at the graveyard, feeling the weak sunlight through the clouds burning her skin. She had listened to men talking about grave robbers. Glancing out of the crypts she saw a couple of Sheriff’s cars sitting on the access road through the cemetery.

  She knew she would have to move or they would catch her. And she knew that she would be destroyed if caught. But where to go? All of the vampires she had read about or seen in movies had been filthy rich, able to rent large manor houses off the beaten path. She had been flat broke before her death. And the little bit of money she had gotten from the wallets of those she had fed on might pay for a night in a Motel Six.

  She continued to hide the day through the crypt, hiding under a desiccated body in a stone sarcophagus at one point while armed men searched through the building with flashlights. When night came she felt relief as her strength came back. She would at least be able to fight if found. Whether that would be enough she did not know. But in the night she was the predator, and the humans the prey.

  He came for her that night. She could sense his presence before he entered the crypt. She could smell his scent as he walked through the doorway into the dark chambers. She could feel his power as moved toward her.

  “So you have survived, youngling,” said the man in a smooth voice. She could see with her dark vision that he was a short man, no more than five foot six, and slender. He had the swarthy skin of a Spaniard or Italian, with the hook nose of an aristocrat. At the time he was the most ancient thing she had ever been around. Later she would find that his six centuries of existence paled beside that of the true Vampire Lords that he had crossed paths with.

  “I have something for you,” he said, flinging a small object at Lucinda. She snatched it from the air, feeling the life pulsing through it as she looked down at the small form in her hands. The one year old began to cry, a sharp piercing wail that called for the mother who was no longer there. Lucinda felt the hunger rise in her, and the disgust at the thoughts that were racing through her head.

  “Feed,” ordered the vampire. “And we will talk.”

  Lucinda felt the compulsion grow stronger at his command. She tried to fight it, but she could not stop her fangs from piercing the soft skull of the child. She could not stop her lips from planting a tight kiss on the wound, nor could she stop her mouth from sucking the sweet life’s blood from the child.

  “I am Don Diego Comacho Garcia-Mendez,” said the vampire, bowing at the waist. “I am the one who made you. But you were not a mistake, as many of our kind are. No, I was captivated by your beauty, senorita, and wanted you to join me in eternal darkness.”

  “Why?” asked Lucinda, looking at the lifeless form in her arms. “Why did you bring me to this hellish existence?”

  Don Diego reached over and pulled the baby from her unresisting arms. He looked at the child, then raised it over his head by the feet and smashed the head onto the edge of a stone sarcophagus. Lucinda cried out and started to move to stop him. The man looked at her with glowing red eyes and she felt all of the willpower leave her body, freezing her in place. Don Diego raised the small body again and swung it into the hard stone, as the baby’s head exploded this time into a ruin of bone and brains. He then flung it to the end of the crypt to strike the far wall with a splatting sound.

  “I did not want that one to rise, you see,” he said, putting his arms on her shoulders and gazing into her eyes. “Of what use would be one who would spend eternity so small? Unlike you, who will be of great benefit to me in opening doors that are barred to strange men.”

  He turned away and started to walk from the crypt, turning around at the entrance when Lucinda made no move to follow.

  “You are mine, you know,” he said in a quiet voice. “To do with as I please. I could order you to walk into the rising sun and destroy yourself, and you would have no choice. You are my slave.”

  Don Diego smiled a wolfish smile, baring his fangs.

  “You will now follow me, woman. And do as I tell you.”

  Lucinda did not want to go with the cruel monster before her. She tried to resist, telling herself that there was no way she would follow him. But her legs moved with a will of their own, and she found herself walking smoothly toward Don Diego. The man raised his head to look at the ceiling and emitted a deep resonant laugh that seemed to still echo in Lucinda’s head.

  * * *

  “Hi. I was wondering when I was going to meet you.”

  Lucinda looked over at the elderly woman who was standing in the front yard of the neighboring house, holding a leash as a small dog squatted near her. She smiled back at the woman as the dog came out of the crouch and started growling at her.

  “Dante,” cautioned the elderly woman, pulling on the leash. “You behave. Don’t you bark at the nice lady.”

  He knows something you don’t, thought Lucinda.

  “I’m sorry ma’am,” said Lucinda, looking at the dog which whimpered and backed up to the end of the leash. “I’m allergic to dogs.”

  “I’m sorry too, young lady,” said the woman, pulling her dog forward, bending over and scooping the pet into her arms. “I don’t know what I’d do without Dante.”

  Lucinda looked over the lined face of the white haired, frail woman. I will never be as her, she thought with regret. I will be forever young. Unless I am destroyed. I wonder what she would do if she was told she could regain her youth. And the only price would be the taking of a human life on a daily basis.

  “I’m Mrs. Flannery,” said the old lady, starting to come forward, then stopping as the dog began to bark furiously. “Rose Flannery. And I’m sorry again about Dante.”

  “No problem Mrs. Flannery,” said Lucinda, flashing another smile at the dog. The dog took the smile for what it was, the baring of teeth of a dominant predator, and stopped barking. “He’s just doing his job. Protecting you from strangers.”

  Lucinda bent down and picked up the paper that was lying on her walkway. She unfolded it to get a look at the front page.

  “I don’t get the paper,” said Mrs. Flannery. “There’s nothing but bad ne
ws in there. At my age you want to hear all the good news you can.”

  “I’m sure that’s true, ma’am,” said Lucinda, glancing at the story about the death of Jacob Padillas, right next to an article about three bikers dying in a bar fire.

  “This is the first time I’ve seen you in the day,” said Mrs. Flannery. “Do you work at nights?”

  You might say that, thought Lucinda, hiding a smile. “I work at Tampa General,” she said, nodding her head. “Night shift.”

  “A nurse? Or a doctor?”

  “Not quite enough education to be a physician,” said Lucinda. “I’m a nurse.”

  “Well as far as I’m concerned the nurses do the real work in the Hospital, miss?”

  “I’m sorry Mrs. Flannery,” said Lucinda with a smile. “Lucy Tate. Nice to meet you.”

  “I was a nurse myself,” said Mrs. Flannery. “On the night shift myself for fifteen years. People must have thought I was a vampire.”

  Lucinda felt a constriction in her throat at the double threat of what the woman had just said. She might be able to pin me down, thought Lucinda, if she asks too many questions about nursing. And the vampire remark. Lucinda calmed herself down after a moment of panic. She thought that she had seen enough hospital shows to fake the nurse persona, even to a retired nurse. And vampire images were plentiful on TV and in movies.

  “I have to get ready to run some errands,” said Lucinda, folding the paper back up. “Nice meeting you.”

  “Nice meeting you, dear,” said Mrs. Flannery, putting Dante back on the ground and tugging on his leash. “Don’t make yourself a stranger. Maybe you could come over to dinner some night before you go to work.”

  Lucinda nodded her head as she walked back to her front door. And what would you think when I didn’t eat anything? When I was incapable of ingesting the food you put in front of me? And when I was not able to join you in prayer?

  Lucinda closed her door behind her and walked to the kitchen. At least one of the neighbors had seen her during the day. Gossip would spread, until everyone in the neighborhood would be sure that the nice young nurse couldn’t possibly be a vampire, such as the papers were saying had invaded the city. Because she had been seen in the daylight.

  Lucinda spread the paper out on the kitchen table as she sat in one of the hard wooden seats. First she read over the story about Jacob’s death. The police thought it might be a murder, but there was no mention of there being little or no blood in the body. No mention of a vampire. So the burning technique works well, she thought. There was no way they could link the death to her. Except for the mention of a suspect being sought. There had been many people to see her in the club. But she had to make a quick strike with little planning since the primary target was too well protected.

  She then looked over the second story, which on the surface looked like either a gang killing or a cover-up gone badly. But something about the story made her shudder. I’ll bet this was a killing by another vampire, she thought. Or vampires. Someone else had made a kill and had covered it up with burning the bodies. She felt and smelled the presence of the ones who were looking for her, both the Ancient Master and her own mistake. This killing would fit perfectly with one or both of them making a kill. And maybe trying to get some information on Tampa’s crime network at the same time.

  “Well,” she said to herself as she headed toward the bedroom, “nothing I can do about it now, but watch my back.”

  Lucinda had her clothes laid out. She let the bathrobe fall from her naked form and started to dress. The problem was to not show so much skin that the burning sensation caused her too much discomfort. But in Florida she would be looked on with suspicion if she covered herself from head to foot. She had settled on jeans, tennis shoes and a top that bared her shoulders. After pulling on the clothes she smeared some sunscreen on her shoulders, arms and face. The last touch was the mirrored sunglasses and she was ready to go.

  Have to remember to buy some scrubs, she thought as she left the house. If she was going to tell people she was a nurse on the night shift she might have to play the part for nosey neighbors. Dressing the part would probably satisfy the casual observer.

  Lucinda waved at the taxi that was cruising down the road, looking for her address. The cabbie pulled the taxi into her driveway as she walked up and pulled the door open, sliding into the front seat.

  “The company prefers for the fares to ride in the back,” said the cabbie, a middle aged man in a Hawaiian shirt. Lucinda looked up at his license and picture over the sunshade as she thought, can’t have you looking at me in the rear view mirror and seeing nothing, now can I?

  “I promise you I don’t bite, much,” she said to the cab driver with a laugh. “And I get car sick riding in the back.”

  “OK,” agreed the cabbie. “You don’t look too dangerous to me.”

  Lucinda could feel how the man’s eyes undressed her, and she knew what was going through his mind. I hate to disappoint you, Fred, she thought, looking up again at his license, but you wouldn’t enjoy the experience. While she could exude sex, and stimulate the senses of any man she wanted to make her prey, she could only simulate the sex act to a certain degree. And that degree did not include the lubrication of her vagina. And the thought of sex itself was not something that brought any excitement to her.

  Drat the luck, she thought. It would have made her feel more alive to have actually made love to a man, to feel the feelings that went with a man’s touch on certain areas of her body. But I’m not alive, am I, she thought with a snort.

  “Something funny?” asked Fred the cabbie, looking over at her with a frown.

  “Just a private thought,” she said. “How about you take me to city hall.”

  “You’re the boss,” said Fred. “Traffic's kind of rough in that part of town this time of day.”

  “There’s a very nice tip in it if you get me there quickly,” she said with a smile, as Fred backed the car up onto the street and the started to accelerate forward.

  * * *

  This was the fifth real estate agency that Marcus had visited today. The first four had turned up nothing. He had thought about having Tashawn do this leg work for him, but decide that a well-dressed white man would have more luck that a huge black man that looked, to say the least, like a gansta out of the rap videos that Marcus despised.

  “I’m Ms. Martin. And what can I do for you, Mr. LaMont?” said the slightly plump woman behind the desk of the office he had been shown to.

  Marcus looked her over with interest. The women of his day had been of her build, unlike the skinny women of today, or conversely the extremely obese women that seemed to be growing in numbers. I would love to have real sex, thought the vampire lord, thinking of the woman lying under him as they sweated together in bed. But that part of him didn’t function. He assumed it was because one needed a beating heart to provide the blood pressure needed for an erection. Marcus shook himself out of his thoughts as he felt the woman’s eyes on him.

  “I was wondering if you might have rented a property to this young woman?” he asked, producing a picture and placing it on her desk.

  The woman picked up the picture and glanced at it, giving a slight grunt as she did. She placed it back on the desk, then she looked up at LaMont with her fingers steepled in front of her.

  “It’s not the policy of this Agency to pry into the personal affairs of our clients,” said the woman. “As long as they’re not involved in illegal activities and pay their rent on time. And what would your interest be in this particular woman, Mr. LaMont?”

  “Nothing sinister, I assure you,” LaMont said with a smile, feeling the woman’s heart race faster. “Her family is worried about her is all. And I was hired to find her and let her know that all is forgiven.”

  “A private investigator,” she said, returning his smile. “You do have credentials, don’t you?”

  “You don’t need to see those,” he said in a calm voice. “You trust that everythin
g is as I said.”

  “You look like the trustworthy type,” said Ms. Martin after a moment’s hesitation. “I think you’re legit.”

  “Thank you Ms. Martin.”

  “Call me Jane,” she said with another smile. “And I think you’re in luck. I rented a house to this woman, showed it to her just the other day. She paid cash in advance for three months’ rent, plus the security deposit.”

  “Could you tell me where she is Jane?” said Marcus, keeping his voice at the purr that melted women’s hearts.

  “Of course,” said the woman, her heart continuing to race. “Or better yet I could show you where she lives.”

  This one is showing a little too much interest, thought Marcus. But he smiled just the same as he nodded his head. “I would like that Jane. When could we go look?”

  “I’m watching the office for the next couple of hours,” she answered, breaking into a big smile. “I figure if you could meet me here after six, we might could go over to her house and surprise her. I mean, you don’t want her taking off before you give her the news, do you?”

  “No, Jane,” agreed Marcus, nodding his head. “I don’t want her taking off. And thank you.”

  “You’re not from Tampa, are you?”

  “Why do you ask?” said Marcus, a frown coming to his face.

  “I don’t know,” she said, run her hand through her long hair. “Just a feeling.”

  “No. I’m not from around here. I’m just in town to find this poor child and let her know that she can come home.”

  “First time in Tampa?”

  “Yes, Jane. I’ve never been here before. But I have to admit I like what I’ve seen so far.”

  “Well, maybe I can show you around the town after you’ve taken care of business.”

  “I would enjoy that Jane,” said Marcus, standing up from his seat and reaching a hand forward. The woman grasped his hand in a shake, sliding her nails gently along his palm as she retracted her hand.

  “The pleasure is all mine,” she said with a smile, as Marcus got up from the seat. He flashed her a last smile before walking from the office and back onto the street.