by M. Leighton
“The Uccideres,” he answered, the “r” rolling off his tongue.
“Who are they?”
“To best explain them, I must first give you a short history lesson about the vampire. Do you mind?”
“No, no. Please.”
“It all started with the venom. It is said to have been given to man by the devil himself, a weapon through which he hoped to enslave the human race. According to legend, it nearly worked. But over time, as vampires learned to control themselves and learned the dangers of feeding off one human too often, we were able to settle down into a very peaceful existence.
“A code of sorts was adopted among that first small band of European vampires, who we now call the ‘Elders’. Humans were rarely turned, usually only for the purpose of preserving one’s mate. After all, it would be far too painful for a vampire to live without his mate, so not turning anyone was out of the question. Turning one’s mate is really the only option in such cases.”
Lucius paused, lost in thought, lost to something that took him from the present for a heartbeat. While he tarried elsewhere, a multitude of new questions rose to my mind. Before I could ask any one of them, however, he drifted back to the here and now to continue.
“Apologies, lass. I digress,” he said, clearing his throat. “What you saw tonight was an Uccidere. They are aberrations that arose from one elder many, many years ago. His name was Constantine.
“For centuries, Constantine had never been satisfied with the low-key way of life the vampires had adopted. Though he’d had his missteps every now and again, none of the elders ever expected that he might defy The Tribunal so completely. But, alas, he did. When he left Rome, no one could have anticipated the havoc, the destruction, the slaughter that he would wreak upon the human race. By himself, he was quite the scourge. Some say it is as vampires were intended to be.
“Before Constantine could be stopped, he had turned hundreds, probably even thousands of humans into vampires. That, however, was not an issue in and of itself. It was the kind of people that he turned that posed such a problem. Criminals, prostitutes, drug addicts, sex fiends, masochists, killers, thieves, all from the distasteful company he kept. Unfortunately, when they turned, they not only brought along many of their own hedonistic habits, but learned the way of the vampire from Constantine himself. It was a bloody, bloody time.”
“You said he was stopped, though, right?”
“Yes, but not before damage more than a thousand lifetimes could be done. Some of the world’s most notorious murderers have been traced back to Constantine or one of his people. Jack the Ripper, Attila the Hun, Amelia Dyer, Darya Saltykova. There were even some Americans suspected of ties to Constantine’s children, people like The Green River Killer and Son of Sam. The list is endless and spans hundreds of decades, but the vampire epidemic has never really been a confirmed threat in this country until recently.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means that they must be stopped before another army, of Constantinian proportions, can be created. These days, it’s easy to see why legend claims that the venom was born of the devil to destroy mankind. It is a power, a thirst that only the strong can contain, can manage without giving in to the euphoria of it, the thrill and the pleasure of it.”
An odd look came over Lucius’s face, a look that made the hairs on my arms prickle. I could tell he was lost again—somewhere, some place in time, in sensation—and for some reason, I was afraid to bring his attention back to me. Survival instinct maybe.
After a few tense moments, his expression cleared and he turned to me and smiled. I was glad to see that he had returned from…wherever.
“Honestly, I’m a little surprised that you wanted to use this time to learn about vampires. I just assumed that you would want to know what happened to you in the woods.”
His statement puzzled me. “I’m sorry? I don’t understand what you mean.”
“My guess is that Bo has fed you, at least once. Is that right?”
“Yes, but how—”
“The poison affects humans differently.”
“The poison?” I felt the blood drain from my face. I hadn’t even thought of that. I wondered if Bo had. “How did you know?”
“Even if I hadn’t seen what you did to that Uccidere, I would’ve known by your skin.”
“My skin?”
“Yes. Standing in the forest, you looked just like Bo does after he ingests the poison.”
In perfect clarity, the image of the gangrenous color spreading across Bo’s nearly translucent, cracking skin came to mind. Reflexively, I looked down at my arms. I was incredibly relieved to see that they were the same medium olive tone that they always were.
“But- but—”
“Oh, you will only be able to see it when Bo’s in danger. It’s your body, your blood reacting to his. You share a common bond.”
“When Lars exploded, is that how I- I did that?”
“Yes.”
I struggled to wrap my mind around it, but I just couldn’t get there. “But how?”
“Many strange and powerful things lie in the blood. The venom changes it, mutates it in various ways and, depending on the person, a broad spectrum of reactions can occur. For example, most vampires can affect a fair amount of influence over humans, an ability that only gets stronger with age. But some are so powerful, they can literally compel humans to do anything, even things that would bring pain and harm to themselves. It is a very dangerous ability.”
“But I won’t turn into a vampire from just drinking it, will I?”
“Oh, no. You have to be infected with venom for that to happen. But when you drink infected blood, its properties sort of enhance your human traits. You may experience better hearing, vision, healing, strength and speed, but it is usually short-lived unless you ingest blood regularly.”
I shuddered. “Why would anyone want to do that?”
“Many humans like the augmentation, but even more, there are those vampires who would use it.”
“Use it? How?”
“Unfortunately, in our history, some vampires have made a weapon of sorts out of humans. A vampire can turn several humans and feed them his own blood. His ‘children’ then go and feed their blood to any number of humans that they drink from, giving that one vampire—the father of them, if you will— control over the masses. Through his ‘sons and daughters’, he has access to the minds of all the humans they’ve bonded with.”
While I was assimilating all that Lucius had revealed, I busied myself smoothing Bo’s hair. It was then that I noticed his deteriorating condition.
His skin had begun to cool again and his gray-green pallor was deepening.
When I looked to Lucius, he was frowning.
“What’s happening?”
“It appears the animal blood is not going to be enough to supplement the human blood.”
“Can you give him more?”
“No. It’s all I have.”
“Is he going to get worse?”
His frown deepened. “That is a distinct possibility.”
My mouth gaped open. While Lucius might be alright with that outcome, I certainly was not.
“Can’t you get more?”
“I could hunt, but the animals can sense me, which means that they are scarce around here these days. I have to travel quite a ways to find prey.”
That didn’t sound very promising and I searched desperately for another option. And then I found one.
“Wh-what about me?”
Lucius cut his eyes to me in a look that gave me pause. “That’s not an option.”
“But why? It could save his life, right?”
“Yes, but it could risk yours.”
“How so?”
“It’s possible that he could accidentally inject you. In his current state, I’m not sure his control is completely intact.”
Although that did cause a trickle of fear to ripple through me—living an existence like Bo’
s for eternity, only without Bo—I only hesitated for one short breath before I came to the conclusion that no cost was too high.
“I don’t care. I’m willing to risk it to save him.”
“Bo would never forgive me.”
“Yes, he would. Eventually. Besides, he’s worth it. He’s worth anything.”
Lucius eyed me, a smile curving his lips. “You love him.”
It wasn’t a question, it was an observation. A very good, very accurate observation. There was just no denying it anymore.
“Yes. And I can’t lose him. Not yet.”
“But there are other risks.”
“You mean the bond?”
“No. I mean a risk to your life.”
“What other risk? Bo didn’t say anything about—”
“Bo doesn’t know.”
“What? Why?”
For the first time, I started to feel a little suspicious of Lucius. He was telling me that, after all this time, there were things Bo didn’t know, things that Lucius himself hadn’t told him. But why? Why wouldn’t he have told Bo everything? That just didn’t make any sense. It seemed to me that Lucius was trying to convince me to let Bo die, something I would never do.
“You know that Bo is dying,” he said. When I nodded, he continued. “At first, he was so disgusted with what he’d become that he refused to drink human blood at all. It wasn’t until revenge took hold that he began to use the blood bank supply to sustain himself. But only until he could find his father’s killer. At that time, I saw no reason to tell him what he could do to humans. He had enough self-loathing without all the finer details. Since he began tracking and killing the Uccideres and draining them—poisoning himself—it hasn’t been an issue simply because the poison affects the thirst, suppresses it, so that he doesn’t crave fresh human blood like he would otherwise.”
I nodded, resisting the urge to gloat when I told Lucius, “Bo told me that.”
“What he didn’t tell you, what he doesn’t know, is that when a vampire drinks from a human, he feeds on more than just the blood. That is why animal blood cannot sustain us in an equal manner. We feed off of life. Each time a human is fed upon, it drains them of a portion of their essence, shortening their lifespan.
“I’ve seen humans, after having been fed on only twice, turn into something akin to the walking dead. They become decaying, mindless shells of the people they once were. Their lives, the minds and bodies, become dominated by a hunger of their own. They’re insatiable, violent. Some, it only takes one feeding, some more. Again, it depends on the person. Stronger humans can take more…abuse than their weaker counterparts. But a vampire can never be sure which variety he’s feeding upon. That’s part of the risk.”
I chewed my lip as I considered what Lucius was saying. What if he was telling the truth? Bo had admittedly already fed on me once, and, though many would probably argue the point, I seemed to be fine. But what would another feeding do to me? Make me some kind of zombie?
I thought of the recent reports of suspected mad cow disease and I wondered if they had anything to do with the rash of vampire attacks. Though I wanted to know, I refused to ask. I didn’t want to be swayed, dissuaded from saving Bo for any selfish reason.
“I’m willing to take the risk, but I have one question. Why didn’t you tell Bo? Whether he technically needed to know or not, he deserved to know.”
Lowering his head, Lucius at least had the good grace to look contrite. “Bo was so devastated by what he’d become, by his father’s death, by his own survival, I didn’t have the heart to tell him what a danger he was. Not until it became necessary anyway. And, fortunately, it hasn’t become a necessity.”
“Until now,” I clarified.
“Until now,” he agreed with a somber nod.
With dread and anxiety gnawing insistently at my stomach, I took a deep breath and straightened my spine.
“Well, it doesn’t matter. Bo’s worth it. He’s had too much pain and anguish in his life for it to end without him finding justice for his father, and he won’t be able to do that dead, so…”
I thought I saw a flicker of admiration flash in the green eyes of Lucius, but it was gone as quickly as it had appeared.
“Alright then. Come,” he said, offering me his hand.
On shaking legs, I rose, letting Bo’s head fall gently back to the couch as I took Lucius’s hand. I knelt beside him on the thick rug, my face right in front of Bo’s grayish-green one.
I looked to Lucius for direction. His expression was one of sad resignation, but despite his reservations, he nodded toward Bo.
“Give him your throat.”
Feeling the tremor in my fingertips, I released Lucius’s hand, not wanting him to know how afraid I was. I looked at Bo’s sweaty face and my resolve strengthened.
Scooting forward, I leaned over him, positioning my neck directly over his mouth.
“Is this good?”
“Perfect,” Lucius replied quietly. “Now we need to stimulate him. Bo,” he said, speaking sternly. “You need to feed.”
I closed my eyes and waited. I had no idea what to expect, but I felt like I had a pretty good idea of what to fear. I just wanted Bo to hurry up and bite me so that I wouldn’t start thinking of all the reasons I probably shouldn’t be doing this.
“Bo,” Lucius repeated, more harshly this time. “You need to feed. If you want to find your father’s killer, you must feed.” There was a hard edge to Lucius’s voice, one I suspected he thought might infiltrate Bo’s stupor and reach his foggy brain.
Still, there was no movement. I could feel the tickle of Bo’s breath on my neck, but that was all.
Then Lucius shook him. Hard. “Bo!”
Nothing.
“Bo,” I said, thinking that my pleas might jar him awake. “Please. You need to drink.”
Nothing.
“Bo, please!”
Still nothing.
I leaned back and looked from Bo to Lucius and back again.
“He looks worse,” I said of his shiny skin and generally unhealthy pallor.
“If we can’t get him to respond, to drink, there will be no hope.”
I whirled on Lucius. “Then do something!”
Lucius’s jewel-like eyes bored into mine. “If I hunt, he could be gone by the time I get back,” he warned.
“Then I guess you’d better hurry,” I snapped coldly.
Reluctantly, Lucius stood, looked down at Bo for another few seconds then turned on his heel and he was gone. I didn’t even see how he left the room. He was just gone. I didn’t see or hear the door open. I didn’t see or hear him running or moving. He was simply there one minute and not the next.
With a shudder, I turned my attention back to Bo.
“Bo, please wake up,” I pleaded, stroking his cheek. “You can’t leave me yet. I’m not ready. We haven’t had enough time yet.”
My voice broke on the last and I swallowed hard. I didn’t want him to hear my upset. He needed my strength, not my weakness.