by Brandon Hill
My momentary confusion had made me unaware of Amelia’s approaching footsteps as I prepared to leave and retrace my way back to our safe house.
We met each other in the doorway; I, lost in thought, Amelia, deep in concentration over her lesson plan book. I could not recall who was the more surprised. It was the first time in millennia that a human had ever startled me. I had to laugh in spite of myself.
Amelia, however, did not laugh.
“Is something wrong?” I asked, noticing her curious stare. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
“The…sun’s out,” Amelia said. Her tone was a mixture of both utter fascination and clear confusion. “I thought you said that...I mean, shouldn’t you be…?”
Her voice trailed off in her momentary shock, and I remembered that I never told her about this.
“Sunlight won’t kill me,” I said. “I’m too old.”
“Too…old?”
“It used to be a danger even to me,” I admitted, “but it’s something I learned about over a great deal of time. The older we get, the more resistant to the sun we become. I imagine that in a few thousand years more, I will be completely immune to it.”
“How’d you even figure out that you were becoming immune?” Amelia asked. “Don’t you fall asleep at sunrise and wake up at night?”
“Sometimes, situations arise where I must wake up early. It’s difficult, but if driven by a great enough need, I can be roused awake in the day. So after so many times of this happening, I began to experiment. Of course, I can’t even begin to count the times I was burned.”
“You burned yourself coming to me?” Amelia said, jumping to a conclusion. Her expression changed into one of horror as she took hold of my hands, expecting to find them scarred and mottled with severe burns.
I smiled at how motherly she was, and then heard—and smelled—the blood rushing through her body in her short-lived panic. She had indeed recovered from my previous drink, and was ready for more, but I gritted my teeth against the beast. I wanted her so very badly, but could not give in to that desire now.
“You won’t find any burns,” I said, withdrawing my hands, which had gained a slight tremble from my fight with the want of her blood. “That stopped happening long ago. There was a time when on the days that I was forced to rise early, I began to expose myself to the sun, little by little. I wanted so much to walk in daylight again, and so I hoped beyond hope that I would develop a tolerance to it.”
“You…purposely exposed yourself to the sun?” Amelia said, her tone flat and disbelieving as she raised an eyebrow.
“Do you know how it is said that exposing yourself to a small amount of snake venom over time gives you a tolerance to higher doses?” I said.
“For a time, I supposed that the same was with myself and sunlight. My tolerance developed over centuries, however, rather than months or years. At first, each exposure burned me terribly, but after many centuries, I found myself growing stronger; the sunlight had less and less of an effect on me.
“At first, I could only stand the light of late dusk, but as the centuries passed, I found myself able to go out ever earlier. Now, though it weakens me, I can expose myself to the light at mid-evening. But my first theory about it being akin to snake venom exposure was destroyed when I saw my older lieutenants beginning to develop the same tolerance that I had.”
Amelia hummed.
“What is it?”
“Nothing, really. It’s just that what you said reminded me of a legend I once read as a kid. It said something about vampires being able to go out during the day, but since it’s not their natural time, it weakens them. You were probably the start of that legend, I think.”
“Perhaps I was,” I said, grinning at the tale. “And then again, it might have been one of Lothos’ clan. But neither he nor his clan has any worries about never seeing the sun again. He has probably never discovered such a thing, seeing how there are no reports of the older of his kind lurking around during daylight.”
“Oh, Talante…” She touched my cheek with gentle fingers. “Why did you go and expose yourself to sunlight for me? I’m not worth all that.”
“You’re worth more to me than you realize,” I said, surprised at how unabashed I was at my words. “I was worried about you.”
“Worried that Lothos coming to spirit me away at night?” Amelia asked. Her lips crooked into a tiny grin.
“Perhaps,” I said, betraying a smile of my own. “It frightens me just how closely I’m bonded to you. Perhaps I should ask about what it is like with some of my children who have experience with such things.”
“Will that mean you’ll stay away from me afterwards?” Amelia asked.
“I sincerely hope not,” I answered.
Amelia giggled melodiously. “Well, seeing you here now at least, I’m flattered that you’d brave the big, bad sun to come all the…hey, isn’t that my umbrella?”
I was at first jarred by her sudden pause. As if realizing I had it for the first time, I followed her gaze to the umbrella, now rolled up in my hand, and stared dumbly at it.
“This?” I sounded as if I were a child who had been caught chocolate-faced with his hand in the cookie jar. “Yes, it’s yours. I stopped by your house first, but you weren’t home.”
“I’ve been working late for the last couple of days,” Amelia explained. “It’s not normal for me, I’ll admit, but—” she laughed self-deprecatingly “—papers won’t grade themselves.”
“I had thought it was strange for a teacher to be at work this late,” I said, smiling at her dedication. There was something beautiful about it, which made her all the more lovely to behold.
“School’s just started back from the holidays, you know. But I think you’re partly to blame.”
“Me?” I said, again feigning innocence.
“Yes, you,” she said, a hint of bitterness in her voice. “Ever since you bit me, you’ve been all I could think about. I’ve been distracted while at work; the principal’s been on my ass about my performance.”
“I’m sorry you had to endure this, Amelia,” I said. I was genuinely distraught by this news; the last thing I had wanted to do was to inconvenience her, but it could not be helped. “What I’ve done to you cannot help but inconvenience; that I know. Not unless you are able to fight the initial effects.”
“I thought you said I was addicted to you,” Amelia said, “or rather, ‘bonded;’ wasn’t that the word you used? And isn’t that an effect in itself?”
“Yes, but there are levels to it,” I said. “The drink is never quite the same for everyone. Remember how I said that you feel what we feel when we feed from you?”
She nodded.
“That feeling is still all-consuming. In the beginning, you’re addicted to the point where the next feeding is all you can think about. It consumes your thoughts day in, day out. But unlike my kind, you can overcome it, since that part of it is psychological. Still, that takes effort. The effects of the drink are very powerful.”
“As if that’s not the understatement of the year,” Amelia said, laughing to cover the tremor that the memory of my drink had produced. Her perfume grew stronger as a flash of desire shook her. “So you’re saying that there’s no easy way out, is there?”
“The lives of anyone involved with my kind are never easy,” I said, once again feeling that pang of regret over what I had done to her. “But as hard as it is for you, I can assure you that it’s far more difficult for me. From the beginning, the thirst overpowers us all, and you want to drain your host to death for the sheer delight of the drink. The discipline needed to tame it is grueling, and victory is to deny a primal drive, which causes constant frustration. Even now, as I speak to you, you enflame me. I have to restrain myself from taking you.”
“Then why deny it?” Amelia said, more fascinated than frightened.
I suppressed the surge of anger that her question had generated. She was neither Lothos, nor one of his clan. She could not p
ossibly know that her question was my nemesis’ way of thinking. Still, I noticed that she cringed slightly. Perhaps she had seen the emotion flashing in my inhuman eyes.
“Because it’s wrong,” I said. “If there is one thing that my travels in this world have taught me, it’s that right and wrong do indeed exist. We all strive for either darkness or light. And those who deny the existence of either, serve the darkness in ignorance.
“Lothos gives in to the passions that drive us to kill, and thinks little of it. But under normal circumstances, my clan has been able to tame the beast. And this means that there is a better way than the path that Lothos has chosen.
“This is one of the things that define my existence. I will not kill my hosts, unless the circumstances drive me to it. And this is what I have trained all my clan to do. We strive to be more than what we have become.”
“Talante…” Amelia whispered, and I knew my words had touched her heart. I felt her admiration for me swell as her hand clasped mine. Reflexively, my fingers curled around hers. I read her thoughts before she could even act.
“I…shouldn’t…” I stammered.
“You look like you’ll burst without me,” Amelia whispered with a grin. The same as when her fingers touched my cheek, the gesture was soft, motherly…and at the same time almost seductive. “And there’s no one else here but us.” She craned her neck, inviting me to what she wanted–-what we both wanted. And I could no longer deny her.
I pulled her to me and embraced her, bringing her artery in range. I heard her lilting sigh as my lips touched her neck. My tongue settled upon her skin. It was delicate and sweet to the taste, like a ripe plum. My fangs made the wound, and the upwelling of blood was devastating.
I shuddered in the beginning swoon. Her large, soft breasts pressed against my chest, and her arms slid onto my back. I heard her utter a sharp cry of pleasure, but little else, as the euphoria consumed us.
I sated my ravenous anticipation and thirst, while Amelia rocked against me, her mouth hung open in wordless cries.
The sun had set when I at last released her, but I wanted her no less.
Chapter Five
The owners of the downtown Italian restaurant where I had brought Amelia to that night were a couple whom I had rescued from Lothos’ clutches years ago. Though they never accepted my money, I always tipped their waiters handsomely, and they were always eager to serve. When they saw my company, they were especially excited, and treated Amelia like royalty, much to my amusement and her delight.
“I’m surprised this place was even open this late,” Amelia remarked as she wiped a bit of spaghetti sauce from the side of her mouth. We had stopped at her home before coming here, and she was now dressed in a one-piece dress of blue-gray that nearly matched her eyes. She held the white napkin close to her breast as she ate.
“My clan knows this place well,” I said, “and our human friends tend to adjust their hours to suit us. It helps to have a few places open all night.”
“With the hours I pull doing grades, I think I could benefit from having a place like this open,” Amelia said. “The food here is wonderful!”
“At my home, there is a spread of food always open to humans,” I said. “The restaurant owners trained some of the cooks there. One day, I’ll show you.”
“It’s a date then,” she said with eagerness. “But I think you’ll find that it was a mistake to make that offer. I can eat a lot when I want.”
I could not help but laugh at her words. “Then you’ll have your fill,” I said. “You’ll find that there is more food there than you could ever eat.”
“You’re making this sound better and better!” Amelia said. “Anything’s better than the crap the cafeteria serves. It’s never enough.” And with that, she took an entire meatball and placed it in her mouth.
“It seems that food holds a close second place in your heart next to children,” I said after taking a small bite out of my very rare steak. Your love for them is written all over the classroom.”
And that was where I learned the depth of the love that Amelia had for her job. I listened to her myriad of stories, both of her good students and unruly ones. Though she repeatedly remarked at how “bad” she was at it, she absolutely delighted in her work; despite her self-deprecating demeanor, her zeal was evident in her every thought and word.
“You shouldn’t think so little of yourself as a teacher,” I said at last.
“But I am bad,” Amelia said. “I can’t hold a candle to the other teachers I work with, and the principal is always on my case about this or that, and…”
“Do your students love you?” I asked.
“Well, yes. I mean, I think they do,” Amelia said, after a moment’s pause to think, “If the gifts they gave me before Christmas are any sign.”
“And do you love them?”
“Mom always said that I wished they were my kids,” she replied. “She was always really perceptive.”
Her thoughts conveyed more information than her words. Instantly, my heart swelled with sympathy. “How did she die?” I asked.
“Car accident.” Her wistful smile trembled as she bit her lower lip. She sniffled once, and a tear rolled down. “It was two years ago in October. Damn it, now I wish you couldn’t read my mind.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “It was near the surface. You were close to her, weren’t you?
“She was my best friend,” Amelia whispered with a nod. “I looked up to her in everything.”
“She was a teacher, like you.”
Amelia nodded. “I wanted to be just like her. I never grew out of it. She was the perfect mom…the perfect woman, I thought. You name it, she could do it. I couldn’t hold a candle to her.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, suddenly ashamed. “I shouldn’t have brought it back up. Those thoughts are private.”
“No, it’s okay,” Amelia said, sniffling back the remainder of her tears. Hurriedly, she wiped her reddened eyes and smiled at me. “It was close to the surface, like you said, so I’m guessing you couldn’t help seeing it, or hearing it, or…whatever. And besides, you don’t know this, but the reason I’ve been feeling so good as of late is because of you.” Her smile broadened as her hand reached for mine.
“I’d been in kind of a funk since she died. And come to think of it, that’s probably why the principal’s been riding my ass so much. But then, I met you –or rather, you met me. Talante, as crazy as it all seems, you’re quite possibly the best thing that ever happened to me.”
“You truly are special,” I said, with an almost instantaneous inward cringe of regret. I had understated my feelings horrendously, but nevertheless, I smiled, and Amelia smiled back.
“Words can’t express how glad I am to have met you, despite the circumstances of that meeting.”
Amelia blushed, a tangle of emotions sparking from her mind, quickly suppressed as she sighed. She removed her hand from mine and returned to her meal, but a wistful look remained in her eyes. “The nicest guy I have ever met happens to be a vampire,” she said at last.
“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” I replied, glad for the humor that released the tension of the moment.
“No,” Amelia said, completely honest. “It certainly isn’t a bad thing. I learned that on day one.”
* * * *
We lost ourselves in the downtown crowds after dinner. Feeling once again myself in the fullness of the night, I used the opportunity to teach her more about my kind.
“It may be easy for you to tell, but how can someone like me tell who’s a vampire and who’s not?” Amelia asked. “You’d think that with your skin, hands, and eyes, it’d be easy to spot you. This city can’t have that many albinos, after all.”
“It’s not easy,” I said. “You see us, but our mental abilities aren’t limited to reading minds. We can influence thoughts, either towards our will or away from it. We may walk past you, and you won’t notice us because we don’t want you to; we distract
your thoughts. And then we can draw you to us with our thoughts. Also, feeding from you lowers your inhibitions somewhat. It’s how I was able to get you to tell me about what happened here.”
“So let me guess,” Amelia said. “The way I tell your clan from Lothos’ is that you won’t force yourself on us?”
“Not unless we have no other choice,” I admitted. “I won’t lie to you; there have been times that we have had to control humans against their will. But we only use it as a last resort in extreme circumstances, such as when a human becomes, or is in danger of becoming violently uncooperative. But in all, your assumption is correct, after a fashion.”
“I see.”
“Look around closely enough and you will see our kind, and the vast network we have with humans,” I told her as we passed through the throngs of people on the sidewalk. Streetlights and neon lit up the downtown street we travelled. “At the club, you peered that closely. Few mortals have such insight.”
“I guess I’m just weird, then,” Amelia remarked with a wry grin.
“Not so much weird as inquisitive,” I said, correcting her, “but you're definitely a fascinating one. Going out alone, and at night, to spy on a spooky old house is something most people your age simply would not do, and, if you don’t mind my saying, especially not most women.”
“Call it insatiable curiosity, then,” Amelia said after a thoughtful shrug. “It’s gotten me into plenty of trouble as a kid, let me tell you. And I’ve always been braver than most girls. Well, that, and then there’s the fact that my friends were teasing me the day before about my so-called ‘boring’ life. I guess a part of me just wanted to show them up, and then got the opportunity.”
“Is that all?”
She nodded.
“You do have depth of strength to you,” I commented. “Perhaps in time, I will see just how deep it is.”