Bride of Blood:: First Kiss

by Anthony E. Ventrello

  “I feel a warmth,” she told him, shifting in his arms.

  “Yes, it is the coming day,” he explained, “soon we will sleep. For we cannot be out in the daylight.”

  She nodded, “I will not miss the day. Daylight always means suffering and drudgery for me.”

  “Then let us be off,” Anton said as they both stood up. “We will retire for the day and then hunt, my sweet child of the night.”

  She took his hand and followed him deep into the woods. There would be a fine cabin that let in no light for them. As they walked away, Velara looked at Anton and remembered a time when they walked like this on the Nile and later on the Danube. She felt the emptiness and void in her heart cease as she knew that she had at last reunited with her soulmate.

  Anton sighed as he came back to himself. Persephone was at his leg and was rubbing against him. He looked down at the sweet creature and picked her up. Almost immediately she began to purr and did the “floppy cat” in his arms. He stroked her gently. Her love for him, her unconditional love, fell upon him like an ocean wave. “Why can’t women be as sweet and as loyal as pets?” Anton asked her bitterly. She looked up at him as if she understood, but could only meow. He sat back in his chair, Persephone still in his arms, and began to daydream again. He thought of the Duke and one of the lessons that he’d taught about love.

  “Remember, Anton,” The Duke instructed him as they sat on top of a large building in Bergan. “We see love differently than mortals do.”

  “How so, master?” Anton asked.

  “For them marriage is a union of ‘til death do us part’. But we don’t have that luxury. Therefore marriage in the traditional sense is not practiced by our kind.”

  Anton nodded and looked at the full moon. Bergen was a beautiful city at night, and the view from atop that building was breathtaking. The sounds of the city that mortals couldn’t hear would have made them mad. Anton was able to tune out those that didn’t matter.

  “Now you will find love someday,” The Duke assured him. “However, remember that monogamy is also a mortal dilemma. We are not bound by expectations such as those. You will have several lovers in your long life, as I have, but don’t be surprised if they or even you get bored and want to move on. We are not pack creatures nor are we bound by familiar laws.”

  Anton nodded again and smiled. Even in his mortal life he had no desire to be wed and now that he was a vampire, he was even more adamant about it. Still the prospect of love and love-making sounded alright.

  Anton got up and blew out the light. He gently walked over to Persephone’s basket and placed her in it. She had already fallen asleep and didn’t stir too much. He blew her a kiss and started to walk down to the basement to sleep. He repeated the Duke’s warning in his head over and over again: “Don’t be surprised if they or even you get bored and want to move on. Monogamy is a mortal dilemma.” Sometimes he wished it wasn’t.

  Chapter 4 The Way Station

  The Way Station is a place between the Land of the Living and the Land of the Dead. What it exactly is a mystery that no one can exactly explain. Mortals only pass through it on their way to the Afterlife. However, Immortals and lost souls seem to find their way there all the time. A vampire can go there when they are sleeping. To each individual who passes through, they see it differently. To Anton, is always appeared like JR’s Bar. The only difference was that there were a series of doors and corridors to the left of the bar area. Behind each door was something different and most didn’t enter them unless they had a reason. A few of them actually opened into other universes or time periods. Vampires would come to the Way Station at times to meet up with other vampires or even spirits of mortals that they had once known. Some mortal spirits were able to come there from the Land of the Dead and would have solid bodies again for the brief time they were there. No one really understood the rules and the whys of the Way Station and it was pretty much common knowledge that things that were said or done there were not discussed.

  The next night Anton was there. The light in the bar was really dark. There were no happy songs on the jukebox, no neon signs advertising the latest and greatest beer, and for the moment, no patrons. JR himself stood behind the bar, looking as sad and focused on his task at hand: cleaning beer mugs. It seemed to Anton that was all that JR did was clean mugs and the bar itself. Although the bar never seemed to get any cleaner no matter how many times he ran a rag across it. Besides the few lights on the bar, the only thing that Anton could see was the smoke rising from JR’s cigarette that was in the corner of his mouth. About an inch of ash hung from it as JR seemed way too preoccupied to pay it much mind at all.

  The area around the bar itself was totally dark, although he could slightly make out the outlines of doors and hallways beyond. Even with Anton’s vampiric eyes, he couldn’t see past the darkness, totally. Anton raised a finger and motioned for JR to approach. JR nodded and fixed a cup of coffee for Anton. He brought the steaming cup to the Anton and sat it down. “Don’t worry about it this time,” JR croaked. “This time you can drink it and not worry about it. Everyone can eat or drink whatever they want here.”

  Anton looked and him curiously and then shrugged. Somehow, he knew that JR told him the truth. He slowly picked up the hot cup and brought it to his lips. He closed his eyes and allowed the hot liquid to flow slowly into his mouth. Usually he would have spit it out but for the first time in centuries, he swallowed. Half expecting to vomit, he set the cup back into its saucer. When nothing happened, he looked up at JR. It had been the first time he had actually tried to drink anything while there. Most of the time he just sat and listened to stories of the various patrons.

  “I told you, buddy,” said JR smiling at him, “here nothing matters. It’s the Way Station you know? Whatever you are, whoever you are, shit, it doesn’t matter here. We’re all equal. So just drink your coffee and relax.” He went back to cleaning beer glasses.

  As time went on, more people became to come out of the darkness. First, an older black man with long white hair wearing a porter’s uniform came in and sat two seats down from him. Then, two beautiful and elegant black women came in and sat on the other side of the bar. He recognized one as Vercie, a deceased mortal woman who considered herself to be the keeper of Velara’s family legacy. Lastly, an older gentleman wearing all black came in and sat down right next to Anton.

  The new patrons sat quietly for several moments not speaking. JR put a glass in front of the women and poured brandy for them. The old black man was given a cup of coffee, too. And finally the man next to Anton was served a shot of whiskey. Still no words were exchanged.

  The old man just stared ahead with a sad expression on his face that didn’t seem to change at all. Anton looked closely at the face: he saw deep age lines; lines of sadness and despair. The eyes that were smack-dab in the middle of those lines were also sad, but yet still carried a sense of acceptance and contentment. The man’s hair matched his clothes in their blackness. The hands that held the whiskey glass were hard and weathered. He saw Anton staring at him and toasted him before taking one last swig of the coffee. JR dutifully refilled the glass without a blink. After a few moments Anton was able to recognize him. He’d not known the man in life, but he’d often heard of him and his music.

  The beautiful black women stared at Anton and Vercie smiled at him in recognition. He raised his glass to her. She was a descendent of Velara, probably her great, great, great-granddaughter to be exact. Many of Velara’s qualities had been passed down to her, although she was more of an elegant beauty with high cheek bones. She was dressed in a beautiful, yet conservative, green gown. She lit a cigarette and smoked it since The Way Station was the only place the dead could do such a “living thing”. Her companion smiled at Anton and giggled out loud. Somehow she looked familiar. She was pretty, though she lacked the poise and overall effect that only Vercie could have. Vercie had piercing eyes that met Anton’s. But most of all he was taken with her smooth and flawless sk
in like brushed ebony velvet, and her shapely body that reminded him of Dorothy Dandridge. Her companion quietly she lit a cigarette and then got up and came over to Anton’s side of the bar. As she approached, he could smell her sweet and very fragrant perfume. She sat down on the other side of Anton and signaled to JR for another drink.

  As he studied her from a closer proximity, he was really taken in by her overall effect. She was even more beautiful than he first thought she was. Her eyes met his again and he smiled at her. It was a smile that he usually reserved for Velara, but somehow it seemed alright to show it to her.

  “I’ll bet you’ve seen a lot in your life,” said the old man in black, pulling Anton from his gaze. He lifted the cup of coffee to his lips and took a swig.

  “Excuse me?” said Anton, slightly annoyed about being pulled away from the beautiful woman.

  “I know what it’s like to be old,” the man said, not looking at Anton. JR quickly refilled the man’s cup. “Time seems to pass slowly at times, and then at other times it passes quickly. But not quickly enough.”

  All Anton could do was nod his head.

  “Yessir…I think that I lived much longer than anyone thought I would. Even myself.”

  “Did you have a good life, old man?” came a voice from across the bar. Light shown on a young man that Anton hadn’t noticed before. He had black hair and clothes just like the old man, except he was considerably younger. There was an air of mystery about him that couldn’t be put into words. He seemed to have a darkness that enveloped him and made those who look at him feel uncomfortable.

  “It was long and full of sadness. But there were good times, too. Especially with the love of my life,” the old man said, taking a swig of his whiskey. “It wasn’t but a few months after she was gone that I went to join her.”

  Anton thought about what the old man said for several moments. He remembered how he felt when Velara left. For the longest time he wondered if she were alive or dead. His pain kept him from feeling her life source. But as time went on, he could feel her, miles and miles away. There were many emotions and voices in his head, but he couldn’t make out whose voice it was. Sometimes it felt as if it were Velara, but then he believed that it was simply wishful thinking.

  “I tell you, Johnny-boy,” said the old black gentleman, “I was beginning to wonder when I was going to see you again.”

  “I know what you mean, Scotty,” Johnny-boy said. Obviously they were close friends. Anton was pulled out of his thoughts by the sound of Scotty’s voice, “You know something, Johnny-boy, I will be coming back here now and again to see when my sweet girl will be joining me.”

  “Be patient, Scotty,” said the man in the shadows. “You have work to occupy your time until she comes.”

  “I don’t suppose you can tell me when she’s coming,” Scotty asked with a crooked smile.

  “No, it doesn’t work that way,” said the young man as he seemed to fade into the shadows.

  “What kind of work do you do, sir?” asked Anton looking down at his cup of coffee and in the blink of an eye, JR refilled it.

  “You know me, Anton,” said Scotty smiling at him, “we met many years ago when I was a Pullman Porter, remember? I thought you told me that you never forgot a name or a face.”

  “Oh yes,” said Anton as he took a quick sip of coffee. “It’s been a long time, Scotty.” He shook the man’s hand heartily. “How are your beautiful wife and daughters?”

  “Oh, fine. I check on them all the time. They are alright, although I have to say that they still miss me. I wish there was some way that I could let them know I am alright.”

  “It is sad, isn’t it,” said Vercie, who spoke for the first time.

  “What’s sad, Vercie?” asked Scotty looking up at her.

  “That we can’t talk to the living,” she said with a sigh. She had the most beautiful voice Anton had ever heard. Her voice was very sing-song almost like Velara’s. It was strange how many of Velara’s qualities had been passed down to this woman, and probably would be passed on to her children, that were still alive. Vercie would talk about them now and again when Anton saw her here. She had tried several times to get them to hear her when she visited, even going so far as to try to get into their dreams. Vercie winked at Anton and lit another cigarette. Anton had been drawn to her since he’d seen her a few years ago right here. Beautiful as she was, she was very intelligent and independent. She gave herself the title of her family’s historian and knew the birth dates and death dates of everyone in her family dating back to her distant relatives in West Africa, and even to ancient Egypt. No, she was no mindless bimbo, she was almost like a reborn Velara. He had a feeling that all the women in her bloodline were like that: beautiful, but with a working brain in their heads.

  “Wouldn’t it be nice if life were like the movies?” the young woman asked as she winked at Anton. He took in her fragrant scent. She smelled really sweet. He tried to read her thoughts, but it was impossible to do with the dead. Vercie shook her head at the young lady. She didn’t like such behavior and felt that it was undignified for the woman to act in such a way. He wanted to take in all of her. Slowly he reached over and touched her hand. It was cold but somehow still felt alive. No blood seemed to run through her veins. Even though she felt alive, it was an illusion. Even in that plane of existence, there was no fooling reality.

  “I cannot die,” Anton said, suddenly. He didn’t know why he said it, but it just came out.

  “I know, son,” said Johnny-boy.

  Vercie got up from her seat and came over to Anton. The young lady got up from the seat and Vercie sat down next to Anton. She put Anton’s right hand in hers and kissed it softly in a maternal, loving sort of way.

  “Lately I’ve felt so much loss and pain,” Anton said to Vercie. “It’s strange how an old, long-ago romance can come back and the heartache feels like new.”

  “Haven’t we all,” said the young man returning from the shadows. “And don’t tell me no one has ever caused you pain?”

  “And still is,” said Vercie, “Am I right?”

  Anton didn’t say anything. He wondered how they knew about the dreams and visions that were haunting him lately.

  “There are no secrets, here, sugar,” said Vercie.

  “He’s letting her destroy him,” said Scotty.

  “Maybe she is justified in destroying me. I did give her a life of damnation. She and Alexander.”

  “Think for a moment before you beat yourself up,” said the young man, “what would have happened to them if you hadn’t been there? You know that Alexander would have faced starvation and death. Plus you know that Velara would have been better off dead if she remained a slave. Meeting you saved them. Believe me, I know.”

  “Yep, he kind of saved them from you didn’t he?” asked Vercie with a smile.

  “More or less,” said the young man. “There are some who are destined to never taste death…” he glanced over at JR, “and there are those who are stuck between worlds, aren’t there?”

  “Sometimes I feel as if I’ve failed them both,” said Anton with a sigh.

  “How quick you are to judge what you don’t understand, vampire,” said the young man. Anton thought about what he said. He blamed himself for Velara’s leaving for many years. There were no parting words but he still thought that she resented him for making her into a vampire. What was going through her mind at that exact moment? What was going on in Alexander’s mind? “How quick you are to judge another’s destiny. You aren’t even exactly sure of your own destiny.”

  “My destiny is to bring misery and sadness to everyone around me,” said Johnny-boy. “And it made them feel better about who they were.”

  “Yes,” said the young man raising his glass, “And you were damn good at it, too.”

  “You seem to take great pride in the things you did with your life, old man,” said Anton. He’d loved the old man while he was alive. A lot of people did, and probably always would.<
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  “Anyways,” said Scotty pulling out his pocket watch and glancing at it, “I have to get going myself because I have to head back to Earth and check on my wife.” He took a hard drink and slammed the empty shot glass on the table.

  J.R. looked at him sternly, “I really wish you wouldn’t do that.”

  The young man got up, too and walked over to Scotty. He put an arm around him and said, “It won’t be too much longer. Then you both can watch over your family.”

  “Would you believe that she gets every message that I send to her?” Scotty said as they walked out the door together. “Every single one. No one else in the family does. Those grand kids and great-grand kids never did listen…”

  The bar was quiet for a several moments. Vercie brushed the hair from Anton’s face. She smiled at him. “You know, sugar,” she said to him, “Velara does love you. And I have to say that I see why she does.”

  “It amazes me how much you and her have in common,” he said, letting Vercie’s natural perfume tickle his nose.

  She nodded. “Scotty isn’t the only one that comes through here that checks on his family, you know, sugar? I have the same responsibility.”

  “Same responsibility?”

  She nodded and took a drink from her glass. She winked at J.R. who quickly refilled her glass. “When some of us die, we are given the task of watching over our descendants. Scotty has lots of grandchildren and great-grandchildren to watch over. After they have all crossed over, he and his wife will probably be with them. That will be it. My assignment is different, however, I chose to watch over my family for many generations. Believe me, Velara loves you just as much as you love her. I think she always has and always will. I don’t know too much about that past-life stuff she was always going on about, but I know her heart. And I know mine.”

  It had all been wishful thinking, but it still was a special bond that he and Velara had shared. He knew that Vercie and Velara kept in touch, somehow he knew it. Asking Vercie any more questions about her would be pointless, as he knew she wouldn’t tell him anything about where to find her.