DarknessOnThePlains_TheBeginning

by Jayme Malvagio

  Nick was impressed with the calmness of the man’s voice. “I am justice.”

  “Please, you don’t have to do this,” Lucas cried out.

  “Yeah, we’ll be right as rain from now on.” John nodded as vigorously as the grip on his neck would allow. “Just turn us loose and we won’t tell a soul.”

  “We have an accord.” Nick laughed as he released them both.

  They stared up at him, eyes wide as they plummeted into the cloud below, sending up wisps of vapors on entry. Their screams faded to the point Nick could barely hear them before the sounds of breaking limbs signaled the abrupt end of their downward spiral.

  Chapter Five

  On the second day back with his people, Kanati met the most beautiful creature who had ever existed, real or imagined. He nearly stumbled when he saw her emerge from the general store. Her jet-black hair hung nearly to her waist. Her brown eyes could melt the heart of a dozen men with a single glance. Her lips were full and inviting, the kind of lips that begged to be tasted.

  He took a step toward her, hesitated, cleared his throat, then set his jaw and strolled purposefully in her direction. What will I say to her? She smiled as he approached. He attempted a smile, tripped over his own feet and nearly fell. When he regained his balance, he rushed by her, up the steps, and into the relative safety of the store.

  “Acabo, who is she?” Kanati jerked his thumb toward the door.

  He looked passed him. “Selu? Ah yes, she is quite pretty, isn’t she?” He flashed a knowing smile.

  “Yes, she is.” He nodded emphatically. “I didn’t see here at the gathering last night.”

  “Come to think of it, I don’t think she was there.” He shrugged. “Maybe you should go ask her where she was.”

  “Perhaps when she’s not so busy.” He watched her walk up the road at a leisurely pace. “Where does she live?”

  “Up on the hill to the south with her aunt Taima.”

  “Is she—?” Kanati struggled for the words; his native tongue had grown rusty from lack of use.

  “Spoken for?” Acabo supplied with a bemused snort. “Most of the men left around here are far too long in the teeth for the likes of her. Well, before you came home that is.”

  “I wonder why she isn’t at Rolling Hills,” he said absently, still watching her walk away. The sway of her hips had become hypnotic.

  “She was there, but she arrived on her Aunt’s doorstep last summer. When we asked her how she escaped, she would only say that it was enough that she did.”

  “I wonder what happened.”

  “Whatever it was, she doesn’t want to talk about it, that’s for sure,” Acabo said with grunt.

  * * * *

  “Selu.” The word rolled from his tongue as he practiced how he would approach her. He spent the majority of the next day milling around the base of the south hill, waiting for her to come out of her aunt’s house. By the time she emerged, the sun was all but gone from the sky and he’d nearly convinced himself to try again another day.

  He approached her on wobbly legs.

  “The trees for a warm day, like, uh— I mean—” Kanati’s cheeks burned. He couldn’t put together a complete sentence let alone a coherent one. “Osiyo, I’m Kanati.”

  “Huh—” He could tell at once that she was less than impressed. “My name is Selu. Pleased to meet you. Sorry I didn’t get to come to your celebration last night, but my aunt was ill and I needed to stay with her.”

  Kanati opened and shut his mouth several times, struggling to find the right words. Come on! Say something…anything.

  “Okay then,” Selu shook her head as she pushed passed him. “It was nice almost talking to you, Kanati.”

  * * * *

  Niccolo perched in a tree, watching the young couple as they strolled through the outskirts of the Talwa. He barely stifled his laugh as he listened to Kanati fumble with his words. How can a man with such obvious strengths become such a bumbling idiot just because he’s in the presence of a woman? He snarled when the realization hit him. His formative years were spent among men and other boys. He’d never interacted with the fairer sex, and as a result, he was at the mercy of his hormones without the benefit of having the slightest clue of how to behave with her.

  Just one more thing those bastards robbed from him. The thought made his teeth clench. His gums ached as he felt his canines stir. A hunger swelled within and refused to be ignored. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly while he watched Kanati and Selu walk directly below him. They were too close. The aroma from their warm bodies only added to his urge.

  As a vampire ages, the all-consuming urge to feed diminishes, and Nick was old enough to no longer need to hunt every night, but certain things could trigger the bloodlust regardless of his body’s needs, and anger was one of them.

  He could stave it off no longer.

  Springing from the branch as quietly as an owl, he took to the air, soaring high above the treetops. He sped over the rolling countryside. His anger abated, but his thirst raged on.

  * * * *

  What an odd boy, Selu thought, casting a glance over her shoulder to where Kanati still stood, mouth agape. Still, he’s quite handsome. Maybe with enough time, he might even become charming.

  She picked up her pace, anxious to get home to her aunt. Taima had been quite ill for several days and she was worried about her. Climbing the hill with long strides, she quickly entered the house and gasped, when she saw someone sitting at the table by the hearth.

  “Auntie, why are you out of bed?” she asked, laughing at her own reaction.

  “I’m feeling better and I needed to move around a bit,” she said with a dismissive wave of her hand.

  “You need your rest. You fever only broke this morning. If you aren’t careful, it’ll come back.”

  “I am resting,” she snorted. “I’m just sitting up rather than lying down.”

  “I met our new arrival today,” she said, taking a seat opposite her aunt.

  “Really?” She visibly perked up. “How was the encounter?”

  “Awkward. I think he may be a bit slow-witted.”

  “That’s a shame. The first young man to return in ages and he’s touched in the head.”

  “It truly is a shame. You should see the way he looks.”

  “Handsome man, is he?”

  “Quite striking,” she said with a nod. “He has big brown eyes, high cheekbones, a strong nose and a stronger jaw. His hair is as black as the night sky, but it’s a bit short for my taste.”

  “I’m sure they made him keep it trimmed above his shoulders while he lived at the school.”

  “Not that it matters,” she sighed. “He may be easy to look at, but I can’t imagine spending much time with a blithering dolt.”

  “Then I’ll pray to the Gods to send us another of our wayward sons home soon.”

  Chapter Six

  Niccolo soared over a small grove of trees, their limbs bending under the force of his passing. He barely noticed. To him, they were an insignificant blur of greens and browns as the foliage struggled to renew itself under the harsh summer heat. He had no time to slow down and appreciate the beauty of the transition. The thirst urged him on, pushing him harder and faster.

  A melody of odors penetrated his senses, pulling him from his thoughts. Fire, food, and ale where barely discernable within an overwhelming bouquet of coal. He slowed to a near stop as he approached the edge of a small mining town. It was nestled between the base of two large hills, one to the east, the other to the west.

  It was far from a thriving community. The majority of the homes consisted of tin and tarps, which flapped in the early-evening breeze. They were practically stacked on top of one another, pushing up against the few buildings that comprised their main street as if they huddled near the heart of the town for warmth like helpless puppies jockeying for position to be the first to suckle.

  He dropped to the ground in the shadows between the tavern and the
general store and froze, the hair of his nape rising. He sensed he was not the only predator in the night. It was a familiar presence, but he was in no mood for a reunion. Just as he bent his legs to launch into the air, he felt the pressure of ethereal fingers tapping on the barrier of his mind.

  “So much for a hasty retreat,” he mumbled, strolling to the front of the tavern.

  He grunted in amusement as he stepped onto the front porch of the establishment. A gunnysack hung over the front opening to serve as a door. Sweeping it aside, he entered the dimly lit room, his gaze locking on a figure near the back, sitting with his back stiff and both hands wrapped around a mug of ale.

  Making his way to the table with a carefree stride, he took in the other man’s appearance. He wore a charcoal-gray cotton shirt, cuffed at the wrist and covered partially with an unbuttoned black vest. His hair was so blonde it was nearly white and hung in loose curls to his shoulders, framing a slender face dominated by bright blue eyes. His countenance was so beautiful he could almost pass for a woman.

  “Pavlo, old friend, what brings you so far from home?” he asked, taking a seat across from him.

  “The same could be asked of you,” he returned with an arched brow. “There is not a single establishment in these God-forsaken lands befitting of a gentleman of your caliber.”

  “I find the quiet suits me.”

  “The Butcher of Sangucina seeking a quiet existence.” Pavlo leaned forward, his fingers tapping out a light melody on the side of his mug. “Who could ever imagine?”

  Niccolo bristled. A barrage of images flitted along the corridors of his mind. Fangs and fury, the clash of steel, the smell of blood and ash. He shook his head vigorously as he pushed the memories back into the recesses where they belonged.

  “I haven’t heard that name in decades. It seems that it all happened in a different life to a different person. It changed me, the… ” His voice trailed off. He couldn’t bring himself to finish the sentence for fear of what it might resurrect.

  “The war, yes,” Pavlo said, nodding, brows furrowed as if in deep thought. “The common assumption is that you’ve succumbed to the eternal slumber.”

  “I’ve never been one for goodbyes and I needed to get away from it all, needed time to…”

  “Forget?” he offered with a rueful smile. “Have you heard from—“

  Niccolo held up a hand, silencing him. “If it’s all the same, I’ve worked too hard to put the past behind me. I’ve no desire to resurrect those demons.”

  It was only when Pavlo sat back with a gasp did he realize the bite he carried in his tone.

  “Forgive me, old friend. The thirst is hard upon me and has sharpened my tongue.” He lowered his gaze.

  “Then, by all means, let’s dine. I’m famished myself,” he said, his gaze already scanning the sparsely populated room. “I’ve found a promising prospect, but alas, the bar is horribly devoid of those who wish or deserve to be released.”

  “Which one?”

  Pavlo pointed with his chin to a petite brunette in a dingy, once-white dress, staring forlornly into a mug of ale. “Perhaps we could share?”

  “And after, we can find a quieter place to talk.”

  “If you would do the honors, fine sir,” he gestured in the girl’s direction.

  Niccolo nodded as he rose from the table and sidled to the empty stool next to his prey.

  “Excuse me, ma’am. Is this seat taken?”

  He could practically hear her breath catch in her throat as she stared up into his eyes.

  “It is now,” she informed him in a throaty voice.

  Pity, I’d rather preferred if she were a ghost. She is gripped in depression, but far from seeking death, he thought, scanning her mind as he sat.

  “My name’s Terri. What’s yours?” she said, leaning closer.

  My, but your loneliness has made you bold. “Niccolo Rasetti, but you may call me Nick,” he replied, pulling her hand up to brush softly against his lips. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

  “Oh, the pleasure’s all mine.”

  “No,” he began, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “It isn’t yet, but if all goes well, by the end of this evening, you’ll know pleasure beyond your wildest dreams.”

  She drew back with a tiny gasp and worried her bottom lip before letting her gaze return to his. “Careful, you wouldn’t wanna raise my expectations too high. I sorely don’t need to be disappointed tonight.”

  Niccolo rubbed his chin, pretending to mull over her words. He suddenly sat straight, boasting a mischievous smile. Without breaking the bond between their eyes, he raised his left hand and signaled to Pavlo. “Good point. Perhaps we need reinforcements to ensure such a travesty doesn’t happen.”

  Her eyes widened and she stared back and forth between them. He watched the swirl of emotions dance across her face as Pavlo stopped two paces from her stool and winked at her. Tapping into her thoughts, he barely suppressed a chuckle as he listened to her argue with herself.

  How dare he suggest… My God, look at them, both of them. They’re so…beautiful. I shouldn’t do this. I can’t do this. What would people say? Who cares what they think. I need this. I deserve this. They’ll think me a whore. They don’t know me. I don’t know them. So gorgeous. Look at those shoulders, the chest. Those eyes… How can they be SO handsome? I want this, but I can’t. I’d best just go.

  She started to rise when Niccolo gently laid a hand on her forearm. His eyes fixed on hers, unwavering, trapping her within their depths. “There is nothing to fear. Attraction should know no shame. You want us, it’s clear, and I can assure you, the feeling is mutual. Everyone deserves a little happiness in their lives. Don’t you want to be happy? Don’t you want to know bliss, even if it’s only for an evening?”

  “But it’s wrong,” she said, though she nodded in answer to his question.

  Pavlo leaned forward, bringing his lips near her ear, his white locks falling, brushing the side of her face. “Nonsense. There is nothing more natural than the desire to touch and be touched. In the pursuit of euphoric coital experience, there is no right or wrong. There exists only the will, the hunt, and the hope that the next encounter will bring you to the edge of orgasmic release and hurl you far beyond the possibility of return. I dare venture, having two men strive to deliver you to that precipice will better the odds of your arrival.”

  Sensing her desire overriding her reservations, Niccolo added, “If it would make you feel better, you and I could walk out together and Pavlo could meet up with us shortly. Then none of your peers would be the wiser. For all they know, I’ve offered to escort your home for your own safety.”

  She studied the floor as she contemplated his words. With a wry smile, she nodded and rose from her seat before sliding her arm through the one proffered by Niccolo. He quickly ushered her out of the bar and onto the street below. Casting a quick glance over her shoulder, she hesitated.

  Though he already knew the answer, he asked, “What’s wrong, my dear?”

  “How will he know where to find us?”

  “We’ll walk slowly.” He patted her forearm affectionately. “Which way shall we go?”

  “I live down there.” She pointed to the right where rows of houses lined either side of the street. “It’s the second to the last house on the left.”

  “Do you live there all alone?” he asked as they began the trek at a leisurely pace.

  “I do now,” she replied with a nod and a smile that didn’t quite meet her eyes. “You have an interesting accent. Where are you from?”

  “I was born in Italy, but I’ve traveled abroad for so long, I’m quite sure my accent sounds nothing like it did when I spoke my native tongue.”

  She smiled up at him. “Italian is such a beautiful language.”

  “Lei lo parla? Do you speak it?”

  “No, but I love the way it sounds. Tell me something else.”

  “What would you like to hear?” he as
ked, one eyebrow raised.

  “Anything,” she breathed huskily.

  “Niente,” he said with a laugh.

  “What does that mean?” Her head cocked to one side.

  “It means ‘anything’, which is what you asked for.”

  She gave him a playful swat on the chest. “You’re such a cad.”

  “Eri bellissima. Attraverso la sua bellezza, trovarò la vita. Attraverso la sua vita, trovarò il nutrimento. Attraverso il suo sangue saprò l'eternità.”

  Staring at him, eyes wide, it took her a moment to regain her composure. “That was lovely. I’m not sure what you said, but it sounded complimentary.”

  “Oh, it was,” he assured her, pulling her hand to his lips. “And I meant every word of it.”

  She let out a heavy sigh as he kissed her hand and nearly stumbled. As if suddenly aware of her surroundings, she cast nervous glances all about her until her gaze finally settled on a building a little further up the road.

  “That’s my house there,” she pointed with her nose.

  Niccolo studied the squatty building with great interest. It was a step above the tin and tarp homes closer to the heart of town, but only a small one. Even at his distance, it gave him a sense of being thrown together out of necessity rather than hope. This was never meant to be a home, but merely a place of transition.

  It sat at a slight tilt. The unpainted wood, weathered and bleached, nearly glowed in the moonlight. The shingles, while mostly present, were of varying lengths and widths, giving it the impression of a patchwork quilt sewn together by a blind woman strictly by feel. There was no porch, the door sitting nearly at ground level.

  “Did you miss me?” Pavlo’s voice pulled him from his observations as he joined them.

  “Of course,” she said with a wink. “But your friend did a wonderful job of keeping my mind off your absence.”

  Pavlo leaned close and kissed her on the neck.

  “As nice as that feels, I’d still rather we didn’t do it in my front yard,” she said in a shaky whisper.