Thirst

by Tapley, Travis

  This book is dedicated to the love of my life, someone who gave my heart and soul a new beginning and made me believe in eternal love. Thank you for believing in me and my dreams, and reading my many thoughts and ideas. You have given me a thirst to love again. I love you, LaDunna!

  Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; old things have passed away; behold, all things have become new.

  2 Corinthians 5:17

  Thirst

  Prologue

  “The Ending and a New Beginning”

  Pontius Pilate wrote to the Roman emperor Tiberius Caesar:

  "...At the time he was crucified, there was darkness over all the world, the sun being darkened at midday, and the stars appearing, but in them there appeared no luster; and the moon, as if turned into blood, failed in her light."

  She had been obsessed with him for quite some time and now it had come to this. Where were the other dark ones, was she the only one that had writhed in agony over being a creature of the night? The only one that longed to see the light of the sun, to run in the fields of the Roman Empire again as she had as a child? She all too well understood her immortality, that on the night she became one of them, she could have very well been drained of her life and left crumbled in some alley. Lifeless and as white as her skin was now. How ironic it seemed that in the darkness of forever, her milky white skin would be the only light to remind her she was eternal and yet dead all at the same time. How could one be in such agony over living forever? For too many nights she had cursed and loved the name Alexandria. Cursed that she had been seduced by a female vampires eyes, eyes that she now possessed and knew all to well how to use as had been done to her. But she loved those eyes, they had mesmerized her, drew her into Alexandria’s arms, let her kiss her neck, and in the moment she felt the coldness on her lips, she had felt the warmth of the bite on her neck and all the light she had ever known was gone. When she awoke, she had become one of them, a child of the moon, a lover of stars and a maker of her own dreams. So why did she find such misery in the dark of the night? Because maybe somewhere in her blood tasting forever, there was a drop of humanity left in her darkened soul.

  The night had come and now was almost over. For months she had followed his every move, tracked him, watched him, listened to him preach. There was something different about him, and she knew he had felt her presence every time she was near. Could he possibly be who he said he was? Was he the Christ, the Messiah, the one foretold in the Jewish writings? Was he the very thing that she should fear the most? But had she not heard him teach that he had not come to destroy the world, but to save it? Her only hope was in those very words. If there was such a thing as salvation, she knew it could never be hers, but by her own destruction she could free herself from this heaven and hell shell in which she lived and return to the dust from which she was made. That would be salvation enough for her.

  She knew the morning sun would be rising soon and she felt weak, she had not fed all night and the desire to drink was overtaking her. What poor creature of humanity would be her breakfast this morning? She had spent all night in the Garden of Gethsemane, and was hiding in the shadows when the band of many had came and taken him away, leaving his followers in a state of disbelief. The smell of blood was almost more than she could take when the one named Peter sliced off the Roman soldiers ear with his sword. How sticky sweet it looked as the dark red flow poured down upon his neck Ah, his neck, what a delicious meal he would have been at that point. The mixture of blood and sweat pumping into her veins.

  There was no time to waste, they had sent this savior to Herod , and the one who had betrayed him, had thrown the silver at the chief priests and ran past her sobbing, “What have I done, what have I done?” She felt she had waited too long, much too long and her chance of facing Jesus was only a dream. Did she really want to die? Did she really want the darkness to be over? If so, then why had she not just ran among the crowds all the nights she spent stalking him? They would have known what she was. But she thought the instinct to survive would have kicked in and made her fight, and she could have killed them all and walked away still alive. She knew better than to try and do it that way, because even though her kind was known, they tried to remain hid and forgotten, to be only some poor lands eternal nightmare. If she had slaughtered many, she would have been brought before the “Dark Council” and reprimanded for her sins against her own kind.

  Time could wait no more. She must feed and make her way back to the caves for slumber, the daylight would be here soon and she was cutting it way too close. She knew what she must do. She quickly fell in behind the betrayer and followed him, not letting him know she was close at hand. She watched as he fashioned the rope into a hangman’s noose and secured it to the limb in the tree. Waiting until he stood to place the rope around his neck, she was almost invisibly behind him. He felt her breath upon his neck and turned in time to see the razor white fangs headed to his jugular and to cry out, “Thirty pieces of silver have stolen my blood.” Her teeth went deep into his throat, she could feel life coming back in to her veins as she drained his. She felt every heart beat as it pumped his life into her. She could feel the warmth of his blood on her tongue as she drained his body. And then, no more, she felt the heart stop and dropped the body and wiped the shimmering red life water from her mouth. She could see dawn breaking and quickly placed the rope around his neck and dropped him from the edge of the cliff. A soul sold to the devil twice in one day.

  The ground shook violently, it felt as though all of earth had two hands upon it shaking it like an hourglass while all of the grains of sand tumbled back and forth as the rocks and dirt from the cave were doing to her. She could sense something was happening of a major proportion, and could feel the darkness of the sky even though her body was telling her it was not time for dusk. She made her way carefully to the entrance of her cliff side home. She held her hand close to her face as she expected the sunlight to come in and burn her flesh. But there was no sun, only the moon and stars but it couldn’t be right, it could be no later than a little after noon. Taking flight she flew over Jerusalem and spotted the crowd on the hill known as Golgotha. She landed away from the masses, and made her way to where they were. It was when she was almost to them that she saw the three men dangling like puppets on a string from their crosses. Except the wood didn’t give and the only thing that did was muscle and tendons. The sweet smell of blood filled her nostrils. These men would die upon the very thing that was supposed to terrify and cause fleeing from a vampire, but as always the foolish minds of mortals had led them astray into a myth that didn’t exist.

  How much darkness would she have? She knew there could be no answer, but as she looked toward the man in the middle, she knew her day had finally come. There were woman all around his feet crying, their hands covered in the blood from them. She could see droplets falling into the dirt on each side of the ground from his hands. His blood was a different smell, it had a sweet distinction to it, that made it different than the other two men. Oh to be one of those women at his feet, to lick the blood from the fingers, sucking every bit from them, to kiss the feet and lick lips clean of the sweet nectar that drained from them. If only she could get a taste. She wanted a taste. She did not know what consequences it held and how her dark immortal soul would intermingle with an everlasting God, but she was willing to take the chance.

  He had looked to the darkened sky overhead and cried out to the heavens, “My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?” And then he was gone. This Messiah, the King of the Jews, dead. The women were wailing loudly at his feet, the Roman soldier coming near them and thrusting a sword in his side. There was no question he was dead. Maybe she had asked the same question, why had God forsaken her? Why had he allowed her to become this cr
eature of the night. She had not asked to be bitten, to be made into this thing that while still human in form was very far from it. To be condemned to what some considered hell if she was to ever die. She was well aware that even being immortal didn’t guarantee forever. The nails in his hands and feet made her cringe as they reminded her of a stake through the heart. Followed by the beheading. Even as dark as she was, she knew this man nor herself deserved to die in this manner. Was it beauty or irony that both she and him were to be eternal beings, but yet here was the self proclaimed Son of God, dead. Hanging from a tree, lifeless just as that betrayer had been so early this morning. And would anyone know they were both going to have the marks of a vampires teeth upon their bodies.

  The dead Christ lay on the ground, his body tattered, but where there was skin it almost matched the death mark of hers. How delicious it looked, all bloody and beaten, she could feel the hunger in her teeth, her fangs wanting to taste the blood. She was ready for whatever came her way came her way, she was ready to drink of the savior. She had never envisioned it this way, had always thought of a confrontation, a condemning of her, just as he had the Devil in the dessert when he fasted for forty days and nights. He had known she was there when he told Satan to get behind him and the Devil fled. She had fled too, vowing to get a taste of his sacred blood.

  She managed to get in between two of the woman as they huddled around his body. She carefully knelt next to his outstretched right arm, and as the Roman soldier pulled the nail from it, she took it in her own hands and brought it to her mouth. Her sharp teeth fitting nicely inside the hole left by the nail. Sweet honey, the taste of blood filled her as she drank. She could have only made one hard pull, and her mouth started to burn, her teeth ached. She pulled away from his hand and if she could have shed tears, they would have came at this time. Her lips felt like they were about to rip open and spill her life on the ground, and she would watch herself melt away. The sky was getting light and she rushed to make her way back to the cave, her haven. She tried to take flight, but she couldn’t. She felt as though someone had tied one of the planets of the heavens to her back. The sky was getting lighter and lighter, the sun was trying to break through the black clouds. She was dizzy, scrambling, struggling to stay upright, she had tried to run, only to stumble and fall, the dirt digging into her skin, scratching her face. The cave was her only thought, she must get up and make it to the cave. What had she done? Why had she ever thought she didn’t want to be immortal? Oh foolish woman she told herself. You wished for your demise never really wanting it, and now it may be too late. The sun broke through the clouds, she felt the burn, there was no way to make it to her home. Pulling herself along the ground she crawled knowing it was futile. The sun was too hot, it was baking her alive. Her death had come, she would be nothing more than a pile of ashes. At least she had gotten a final taste of heaven before her decent to hell.

  Chapter One

  “Mardi Gras Nights”

  The sun rises over the Crescent City, the French Quarter almost all but silent except for the few rattles of trash cans on the sidewalks being emptied into dumpsters. The smell of Bourbon Street fills his nostrils, does it ever lose its fragrance? He stands on the balcony of this old apartment, looking over his shoulder at the beauty of his sleeping wife, Summer, and their two small children. His sweet little girl Kelsey age 5 and his son Adam, age 7. He had been to many places in his life, but New Orleans always had been special. He could trace his roots all the way back to the days of the Roman Empire. Not only did his roots begin there, but so did he. How had he survived over two thousand years. Did even eternity not have an ending? The many battles he had seen and been a part of. The wounds that would have proven fatal to mere mortals, were nothing more than a memory to him. There was not even a scar to run his fingers across and reflect on many lives he had seen lost. But the amount of dead always tolled hard on the Dark Councils legion of the night. They had never been convinced that his kind were far superior and while a few would slip up on occasion, their numbers would always be greater. That’s why in a dark room the light will always fill it. Except the shadows and the shadows were the places where they always had the light snuffed out.

  Why had he married a mortal and brought this lovely woman into this fight, his fight. It was always his fight. He was the secret the world could never know and the reason for the darkness to fight so hard to eliminate him. He never dreamed he would find a woman, and a woman of the mortal variety that could and would understand who and what he was. He had at one time thought it foolish that he had trusted her with his secret. But she had proven to be his most valuable adversary along the way. He knew the time was coming when she must join him. He must give her the gift of light, while planting the seed of darkness into her soul. It was her choice, she could choose at any time to walk away, and she faced this decision as she did any other, head on and with a valiance he had never known. He knew this gift must be given to her soon for the two he had battled for centuries were coming for him yet again. He had tried to keep his family hidden from them, but it was time to finish this with an immortal Summer by his side.

  He was growing tired of this centuries old battle between the Dark Council and the radiant ones as the Elders of the Council liked to call his kind. The Elders had hid behind their two most dominant forces and convinced them that he must be destroyed but first there was something they needed from him. Since the beginning when the dark forces had separated because of a choice made by his mother, a choice that even she did not know the ramifications of. She had thought she wanted to die, to be rid of the blood drinking and hated light of the moon prowling. But her mistake had caused a change that even he found hard to believe. It was all in her writings and he had spent countless hours copying them and making sure the record of his existence would be known forever. It was hard to understand how something so dark, so cold, could somehow be filled with a light. A light within the darkness that the evil that still resided inside had to remain. It always gave him that feeling of being a mortal again, the feeling of being a child and knowing it was wrong to steal but doing it anyway. No matter how bright the light, there was always a darkness inside.

  It was all so complex to Summer. But she had listened and tried to understand how it all could be true. She had been a secret fan of the vampire her whole mortal life, and even she had never dreamed a story such as his could be true. She was the daughter of staunch Southern Baptists. He would love to see the reaction on their faces if the truth about who he was ever came out. How quickly would the age old hypocrisy of the Bible belt shine? But who was he to think about it that way. He was a creature from a lineage as old as time. Even though his kind began in the Roman Empire, his Mother had been of the dark side before that fateful day. She knew the dark and it had driven her to wanting an end. And in the end that wasn’t an end, it had created a new being, a being whose whole chemistry was changed. No longer did they have to prowl in the cover of night. The ability to walk in the sun, to see skin with a tan, to have a reflection in the mirror. To be almost human. Except for that need to feed. It was still the thing that kept them alive. As different as they now were from the dark ones, they were still so much the same.

  How do you make sense of being a vampire, but not of the dark things. Yes, you were of the dark, but he often wondered how it must feel to roam the night, to never see the sun rise in the morning as he had just witnessed. It was all he had ever known and all he cared to know. He often thought about the whole process and how his mother was changed and wondered if ever bitten by one of the true dark what would happen? He laughed under his breath at the human world and what they believed of the vampire. Some things they believed were true but so much they had no clue about. He remembered reading the very first story about a vampire and thinking the only way to incorporate the truths in the tale was for the writer to have known one of the dark ones, or perhaps been one himself. After all did he himself not write? He was fond of the stack of journals he had locked a
way that told of his life, his mother, his beginnings and all the battles he had faced with the two coming his way yet again. Would Michael and Lilith, ever find a peace in their moon struck world and be grateful for who they were and the simple fact that they had the gift of immortality? Why was it so imperative for them to try and accomplish something that no one, not even himself knew would work and could be done. How he had not managed to destroy them all these years left him dumb struck. Somehow, someway, they had always manged to escape when all seemed over. Did it really matter, the Elders would have two more in the wings, waiting to take their place.

  They would be getting dressed and heading to Summers parents home later on in the morning. He loved watching her sleep, at least in what he could define as love. His mixed creature state, left with emotions and feelings that should have disappeared when he became a vampire, still lingered in a dull gray diminished sort of way. It was a feeling of someone that had depression, every thing you should care about became a lackluster thought, a lessened dream, but at least he had them. He knew of the age old mortal feelings that a man who loved his family would gladly surrender his life for them, and even though his life had been surrendered long ago at the age of 35, he would also surrender his immortality. He had tried hard to like her parents. They were kind, caring people and loved his children deeply. Summer was an only child and Kelsey and Adam were the only grandchildren. But there was still enough of the dark vampire pumping in his cold veins, that some things of a religious nature made his undying heart quiver. It always seemed odd to him that he could have a smidgen of blood from the worlds redeemer flowing through him, but still feel the power of evil. Wasn’t that power what made him a blood drinker after all? Through all the good things his kind had become, he still felt like the mortal sinner condemned to a love of some fiery pit because he couldn’t quite be what the world of the religious thought he should be, and he often thought what the teachings of the man Jesus said he had to be. But in it all, he always went back to the things his mother had told him and taught him. The words spoken by the man Pilate on the day of the crucifixion, “What is truth?” Has a truer sentence ever been spoken?