Vampyre Rescuer

by Marion Webb-De Sisto

  Delia hugged her roommate. “Sorry, Callie, my inner angel can be over-bearing at times. My excuse is—I think I’m feeling unnerved from being attacked by vampires.”

  “Of course you are. If it had happened to me, I’d shift and never turn back.” She patted Delia’s hand. “You should go to bed now. Sleep will ease the shock of what you experienced.”

  “Okay, but do me one favor. Please see if that vampyre is outside, watching this apartment.”

  Callie got up, went to the window and pulled aside the drape. She looked out and moved her head from left to right. “No, he’s gone. You’re safe tonight, unless he flies up to your window.”

  Delia laughed. “Stop it, Callie. I’ll have nightmares about creatures coming into my bedroom and grabbing me.”

  “Call me if they do. I’ll shift and take a big bite out of them.”

  The two roommates went to their separate bedrooms. Delia undressed, put on pajamas and crawled into bed. She lay awake for a while and thought about her vampyre rescuer.

  Chapter Two

  The next morning, the first thing Delia did before going to work was to book a transporter for nine night chimes. She didn’t want to run the risk of being stopped by the vampyre or anyone else. As she walked to work, she told herself vampires slept by day, and hopefully vampyres did, too. Mr. Branly didn’t ask about her journey home the previous night and she knew it would be a waste of time telling him what happened. She’d arrived at the store, ready to serve customers, and that seemed to be all that concerned him.

  During the lunch break, she ate a sandwich she’d made at home and drank coffee from the coffeepot, which her employer kept perking throughout the day. He always drank several mugs of it while the bookstore was open. Soon after lunch, Delia told him that a female friend of hers was interested in vampyres. She asked if he had any books that gave information about them. His bushy eyebrows moved down into a frown.

  “Is your friend like you, part angel?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then tell her to stay away from them. They’re the spawn of demons and revel in corrupting others. I have one book that you can borrow tonight. Read it and pass on its warnings to her. You must bring it back tomorrow or I’ll charge you twice its value, which is expensive. My bookstore is one of the few that has such a valuable item.”

  “I promise to bring it back. Thank you, Mr. Branly.”

  “I’ll give it to you just before you leave tonight.”

  Late in the afternoon, while Delia tidied some bookshelves toward the back of the store, she heard the bell on the front door jingle. Someone spoke to Mr. Branly who stood behind the counter. The voice was distinctive and familiar. It caused her to stay still and hope she wasn’t visible. Her employer answered, and then the bell jingled again. Had the vampyre left or was that another customer entering the bookstore? Delia remained where she was, she didn’t want to show herself.

  Mr. Branly called, “Delia, come here.”

  She peeped round one of the bookcases and saw no one standing in front of the counter. Delia hoped the vampyre was gone. She approached her employer and questioned, “Yes?”

  “A vampyre came in here a few minutes ago and asked for you. I thought your friend might be you and now I know I was right. Why would you—”

  “Did he leave?”

  “Yes, I told him you were out on some errands for me and wouldn’t be back today. Now, why are you interested in vampyres? Don’t tell me you’re in love with him.”

  “No, no. I could never love a vampyre. My inner angel would never tolerate someone who came from demons. I don’t know him, but met him briefly last night. I didn’t know what he was, but thought he was scary. Then, my lycan roommate said he must be a vampyre and I needed to get more information so that I can be on guard if I see him again. I believe being forewarned is forearmed.”

  “That is a wise decision. I don’t have a problem with any of the species on Kurbridor, except vampyres. My own great grandfather was an elf, and you being part angel didn’t stop me from hiring you. However, vampyres seem to have no saving grace. They extract the life-force essence from humans, and then turn them into vampires. He could probably do that to you, too.”

  Mr. Branly’s words surprised Delia. She’d figured he only cared about his books and coffee, yet he’d lied to the vampyre in order to protect her. She was beginning to see her employer in a whole new light.

  After closing time, they did stocktaking until just before nine chimes. Mr. Branly gave her the little book about vampyres and she stashed it in her bag. Delia found a transporter waiting for her when she went outside and for that she was grateful. It glided her home, and as she stepped down from the vehicle, she saw a tall figure in a long, black coat, waiting at the bottom of the building’s front steps.

  She stood for a moment and debated what to do. There were a number of people close by, so perhaps he wouldn’t attempt anything.

  Not looking at the vampyre, Delia walked over to the front entrance. She managed to mount three of the steps before his large hand gripped her arm.

  “I’ve been waiting for you. Remember you owe me, so come and have a drink.”

  She wasn’t quite level with his face and the upturned collar shielded much of it. Yet his eyes were visible. They were large and slanting upward, a typical demonic feature.

  “No. Leave me alone. Go find a human to appease your appetite.”

  “I don’t need a human, I want you. Come with me willingly or I will force you. I can make you do anything, whether you want to or not.”

  Delia remembered how his hand on her shoulder conveyed the feeling she had to obey him. Maybe it would be better to go willingly rather than be completely under his control. In that circumstance he could make her do things that might horrify her later.

  “Okay, if you insist, but don’t expect me to be friendly. I don’t like you even though you helped me last night.”

  He pulled her down the three steps and stopped her from falling by gripping her arm so tightly it would leave a bruise. She had difficulty keeping up with his large strides as he dragged her onto Pertlan Walkway. They went past several bars and finally stopped in front of a small, dimly lit one. Was it even open? Delia wasn’t familiar with most of the bars, like Callie was, and she was sure she would never enter this one alone.

  The vampyre made the bar door open by merely looking at it. He pushed her inside and across the floor to a booth in one of the dark corners. Soon after they sat down, a waitress strolled over to them. It was obvious from her horns and folded wings she was a demgel. She stared at Delia, sniffed, and said, “I haven’t seen her before. Is she new, Herres?”

  He nodded.

  “So what can I get for you? Do you want the usual?”

  The vampyre nodded again.

  “What about her?”

  “Give her a grespat juice.”

  The waitress walked over to the bar, and Delia informed, “I won’t drink it. I don’t like that blue drink.”

  “Why don’t you like it? Is it the taste, or because it makes you feel more affable to everyone and everything?”

  “I don’t like the taste, and I like to be in control of what I’m feeling.” She looked over at the bar and noticed two lycans sat drinking mead. To her inner angelic sense, they appeared to be shifty. When she brought her attention back to the vampyre she saw he’d lowered his collar. His face was a surprise. Apart from his strange eyes, his mouth had very thin lips and his ears were pointed. They were visible because his hair was tied back.

  While she stared at his ears, he stated, “Not exactly a handsome vampyre face. I’m what you would call a throwback to my demon ancestors. Do I offend your angelic sense of what is right?”

  “I’m surprised, but I suppose it could be worse. Some demons have big, weird-shaped noses. At least yours is normal size and straight.”

  “Does that mean I meet with your approval?”

  “Your clothes aren’t shabby, but I don’t lik
e your attitude. You’re much too forceful and to be quite honest, a bit scary.”

  His only answer was a grin.

  The waitress returned with their drinks. Delia noted his was the very dark beer that few on Kurbridor drank. Its pungent taste was too strong for most individuals. He lifted his glass and swallowed almost half the liquid. She pushed her glass of juice aside. It was made from the blue grespat grass. When she was young, she discovered she didn’t like it.

  “Drink your juice.”

  Delia ignored him and stared at the grimy ceiling. He grabbed her hand and circled it around the glass of juice. His index finger displayed a ring that boasted a stunning sapphire set in gold.

  “Do I have to make you drink it?” With his hand covering hers, he brought the drink up to her lips, and warned, “Don’t make me force this juice into your mouth. Drink it, and maybe I’ll seem more appealing.”

  She took a sip. He pushed the glass back to her lips and she drank more.

  “There, was that so difficult? Keep drinking and I’ll order more.” He glanced at the barman who nodded and poured another beer and grespat juice.

  Delia could feel the blue drink beginning to affect her. His face wasn’t too scary and as yet, he hadn’t tried to take her life-force essence. She drank more juice and attempted a smile when the waitress brought their second order to them. The vampyre sat and stared at her. He touched her hand every now and then. Was it her imagination? Each time his long fingers came in contact with her skin she could feel a warm tingling. Either he made it happen, or she imagined the effect.

  In order to test Callie’s theory, Delia asked, “Why did those vampires obey you? How did they know you weren’t just anyone telling them to release me?”

  “I’m well-known in both the vampyre and vampire communities because of my demon face.”

  “Are you also a member of the Vampyre Council?”

  “I am. How do you know about the Council? Most of Kurbridor’s inhabitants are unaware of it.”

  “I have a friend who said you were probably a member because those vampires didn’t argue with you.”

  She drank the remainder of the first glass and started on the second one. The taste wasn’t too bad and she didn’t want him forcing the glass to her mouth. Meanwhile, he downed both glasses of beer and ordered more. By the time she was almost finished with her second glass, the whole situation of having a drink with a vampyre had become amusing for some unknown reason.

  She giggled and asked, “Do you have any demonic appendages, like wings or a tail?”

  “I have no wings, but apparently I had a tail when I was born. The vampyre doctor cut it off, but couldn’t do anything about my ears, mouth, and eyes.”

  “I’m sensing you’re very old. Is that right?”

  “I am. How about you, Delia? Humans, who are part angel, can last as long as vampyres if no accident befalls them.”

  “You talk funny. Befalls isn’t a modern-day word.” Delia took a sip of her third glass of juice. “I’m well into my first century of life. It’s okay so far. And how do you know my name?”

  “When I healed your wrists I was given much information about you. You’re part angel, part human, but you live like the latter. Some, like you, travel to Terra and other worlds, performing good deeds. You spend your life on Kurbridor, behaving like a human.” He finished his third beer. “Drink up and I’ll escort you home.”

  That sounded good to Delia. She felt tired and suddenly remembered the book in her bag. Her only two options would be either to read it tonight or early tomorrow morning. She gulped down her juice and smiled at the vampyre. “I’m ready.”

  “Wait here while I pay the barman.” He stood up, turned his coat collar back to its previous position and strode over to the bar. The barman processed his cash disc in a machine and handed it back to the vampyre. Delia noticed how the two lycans eyed him with interest. She got up and moved close to the door. He took hold of her arm and guided her out of the bar.

  The walkway was even busier than before and they had to jostle their way through the crowds. Someone yelled, “Hey!” and Delia’s shoulder was tapped. She turned round and saw the two lycans from the bar. They stood menacingly close to her and the vampyre.

  “We’re thinking you might have some expensive jewelry on you, so hand it over. If you don’t, we’ll shift and things could become very messy.”

  She heard a low chuckle coming from the vampyre. He placed his free hand on the chest of one lycan, whose face contorted in pain as he fell down unconscious. The second lycan stared in amazement at the first one. His expression changed to pure agony when his chest was also touched by the vampyre’s hand. Now, two lycans lay on the ground unaware of anything.

  Three Enforcement demgels came up to Delia and her escort. One opened his mouth to speak, but only nodded when he looked up at the vampyre. The three moved on.

  “Wow! Even the Enforcement officials don’t want to mess with you. I think I should be scared.”

  “As long as you do what I say, you’ll be fine.”

  Delia couldn’t think of an answer, so she let him take her to the steps of her apartment building. He forced her to stand on the step that brought her face almost level with his. This meant she stared straight into his dark eyes that were narrowed.

  “Did you enjoy our short time together?”

  “No, I don’t like being told what to do. I think you’re too forceful, and what did you do to those lycans?”

  “I took some of their life-force essence.”

  “Will they die?”

  “Of course they won’t. I didn’t take all of it.”

  “They looked as though they were in agony.”

  “I can adjust the sensation that accompanies the withdrawal. When I take yours, it will feel sensual and very pleasing.”

  “I’ll pass. Go find someone else to be your prey.”

  “It seems the effect of the grespat juice is already waning. Before it’s completely gone, I’ll take a kiss from you.” He leaned close and put his hand on the back of her head. She tried to break free, but it felt as though her head was held in a vise, and in her mind she heard his voice.

  “Don’t fight with me, Delia, you are mine.”

  His mouth claimed hers with such force that she had to grab his arms to stop from falling. Somehow, he made her mouth open and his tongue stroked her teeth and tongue. For a moment it felt as though he drew her into him. It was an odd, yet pleasing sensation. Did he use his charismatic vampyre power on her? She didn’t want it to end, but he moved back and released his hold.

  “Your essence is quite unique and very tempting. I must be careful not to take too much.”

  Delia realized what he’d just done. She accused, “You stole some of my life-force essence. You’re diabolical.”

  “Perhaps, but it was worth it. I’ll take more on another night. Rest well, Delia. I’ll come for you when I need more of you and your lovely essence.” He walked away and was soon lost from view in the milling throng.

  She fumbled in her bag, found her key and unlocked the main door. Once inside her apartment, she got ready for bed and sat under the comforter with the book on vampyres. Delia began to read.

  Chapter Three

  The book was obviously written by someone who had a strong dislike of vampyres. At the end of each chapter there was a paragraph that reiterated the danger they presented. Delia learned that long ago male demons, named shaitans, and female demons, known as lilins, had mated, and the first vampyres were born from those unions. They moved from Abbadon to Kurbridor, where other life forms, like demons, angels, and the faery folk already lived. Several of the vampyres mated and a second generation came into existence. On occasion, this continued and according to the book, it would always happen when their numbers were low. The original vampyres looked similar to their parents, the demons, but over time they came to resemble humans.

  A few of the early vampyres formed a council that oversaw all matters appe
rtaining to their kind on Kurbridor. Eventually, they retired after passing on all duties to their offspring. This handing-over was repeated, at times, throughout the centuries. This meant all present members were distantly related to the original members of the Council. Information on the present-day council was scarce. Where and when they met was unknown, as was most of what they decreed. However, the author of the book was aware that at some point in the distant past the Council had ordered all vampires to be exiled to Terra.

  These creations by vampyres were formed when humans, whose life-force essence was completely drained, were given a small amount of vampyre blood to swallow. As they took their last breath, the blood was forced into their mouths and, once revived, they were the blood-seeking night beings feared by the people of Terra. This act of creating the undead was perpetrated centuries ago by certain rogue vampyres. Later, vampires created more vampires by draining the blood from humans, and then giving the victims a measure of their blood.

  Delia stifled a yawn. She’d read most of the book and could finish it in the morning before going to work. Her nail file served as a bookmark before she closed the book, switched off her bedside lamp and snuggled down in the bed. Her last waking thought was wondering how late Callie would come home.

  * * * *

  After leaving Delia, Herres walked to where his sedan and driver waited. He got into the vehicle and relaxed while it traveled the route through the crowded avenues in order to reach his mansion on the outskirts of the city. The vampyre went inside his home and climbed the stairs to his bedroom. His three live-in servants must be in bed because no lights were on, but that didn’t bother him. His demon eyes could see very well in the dark. He got undressed and lay on the bed naked. Delia was uppermost in his thoughts and his cock was throbbing from the need of her. He masturbated for a short while, wishing he was deep inside her, and then he said out loud, “Herres, you’re much too old for this nonsense.”