by Aiden James
“Would you like some wine, Txema?”
Racco’s soothing voice immediately surrounded me with warmth, and once I turned toward it, I nearly ran into him.
“Whoa! I didn’t mean to frighten you,” he said, laughing while carefully keeping the glass of merlot he had poured for me from spilling on the white dinner jacket he wore.
He set the glass down next to my plate, and then seated himself to my right, while Armando eyed him sullenly from my left.
“Your boyfriend, Peter? He is fine, and anxious for your reunion!” Armando announced, and I could tell from the way he looked beyond me that this news was intended as much for the ‘Lord of this Manor’ as for me.
“Reunion? You mean, I will see him again…soon?”
I experienced the weirdest feeling right then…. It was such a mixture of joy and guilt, for both the man I’ve loved and the one I lusted after the past few days.
“Yes!”
Armando offered more exuberance at Racco’s expense. I could feel Racco bristle next to me, as if this wasn’t a development he had anticipated. Meanwhile, the heat of embarrassment rushed to my face.
“So that is good news, no?” Armand continued, reveling in the moment. I looked up and caught a glimpse of Garvan, who stared at us from across the room. Dressed as if still part of Marie Antoinette’s court—with a powdered white wig to boot—his face bore a satisfied smile that told me that he was listening intently to our conversation. “Tyreen is okay now, too.”
“She is? Oh, thank God!!”
It was like an incredibly heavy load suddenly lifted off my shoulders. Tyreen survived her attack! Since Saturday night’s abduction, I worried something terrible would happen to Tyreen, that her wounds from the Chupacabra vampires would somehow prove fatal — like what happens to vampire bite victims in campy horror flicks.
“And, Johnny?” I persisted. “He’s okay too, right?”
“Yes, he seems fine,” Armando assured me. “Maybe when this crisis is over, we can invite them all for a little visit, no?”
“I wish I could go home and see them,” I said, feeling so homesick that I thought I’d cry at any moment. “I really miss them all!”
“There, there, my chéri,” Racco whispered in my ear, placing his left arm around my shoulder as he drew close. I began to weep. Meanwhile, Armando’s playful smile disappeared, fading into a look of sullen anger. But it was nowhere near the look of disdain that Garvan shot me from across the room. In an instant, he traveled across the room to us.
“You should court someone your own age, don’t you think?” said Garvan, disdainfully, supported by hearty nods from both Armando and Franz. “Perhaps if we care to list the recent steady string of female company cavorting about your bedchamber, Txema would take her leave from you…forever.”
“I’ve got the list!” Armando exalted. He launched into a twirling dance, pantomiming exaggerated arm and hand movements to illustrate an endless series of pages.
“Is such childishness necessary?” Racco’s tone was much more acidic than what I’d heard previously from him. “Perhaps we could toss your caskets out into the meadow behind the castle. As long as the local gentry will ignore their presence, you could last a century or two!”
He squeezed my shoulder and drew ever closer. The scent from a virile spice cologne embraced me, and with each passing moment, this was getting worse…at least for me.
Racco made it seem like a joke, but no one near us laughed. I just wanted to get as far away as I could from all of this. Garvan seemed the most put off by Racco’s behavior, his fangs elongating while he growled menacingly.
“It isn’t like either one of you can keep her warm at night, and deliver the daily human companionship she deserves!” taunted Racco, wearing a smirk that clearly announced he was unafraid.
It only took a moment for the three vampires to appear around me, each taking a threatening stance against him. I expected some kind of a fight to erupt from this, but suddenly a green blur appeared in front of me. Something cold grabbed my arm and pulled me away from the four of them.
“Grab her plate and wine!”
In the next instant, I was transported to the very head of the table, next to Gustav, who had returned to his throne. I started to feel sick, but then I noticed Chanson stood beside me. She was dressed in a beautiful forest green gown with a matching petticoat. Cumbersome clothing to race around in, unless one happens to be a vampire.
Raquel stood to her left, holding my plate, while Nora held the glass of merlot I had yet to taste. The two of them were dressed similarly to Chanson. In addition to the rose gown with a pink petticoat she wore, Raquel’s face was adorned with diamond and ruby chips in swirling designs that I assumed were pasted to her ashen cheeks. Like some avant-garde punk rocker born a few centuries too early, but obviously free to express her wilder side amongst her peers.
Nora’s gown and undergarments consisted of elegant lace, completely black. Very fitting for the matron among these vampires. A quick glance around me confirmed that these three were among the most striking females gathered there that night.
“Men and boys never change when it comes to trying to impress the object of their affections,” Chanson observed, shaking her head with a wry grin on her face. “Surely you were more than ready to be rescued, cousin!”
“Yes…I must admit, you’re right about that,” I agreed, disappointed by the simmering hostility among male immortals.
I took a moment to look back at the angry vampire trio and their alchemist counterpart. Armando and Garvan eyed me sullenly while Franz stood stoically behind them. Racco still seemed indifferent to their collective disdain, raising his half-empty glass of wine in salute while he shot me yet another seductive look.
“You should be grateful we rescued you when we did!” teased Raquel, revealing a beautiful smile I had only seen glimpses of—the sure sign her initial reservations had given way to at least some admiration for me. “Eat before your food gets too cold!”
She motioned for me to sit down again at the table, with the three females standing around me. Gustav smiled, and he also encouraged me to eat my dinner. My hunger had steadily worsened, urging me to forgo the use of my utensils in a ladylike fashion. Instead, I dug into the contents of my plate like a starving peasant. I managed to ignore the fact that each of my current vampire companions carried crystal goblets filled with a thick crimson liquid. Obviously blood, it normally wouldn’t matter if it was human or not to make me squeamish. But, I cleaned my plate just the same.
“How do you like your room?” asked Chanson, pouring me another glass of wine after I drained my first serving.
“It’s a little big,” I said, thinking how cold my bedchamber was despite the presence of a large canopy bed piled high with thick blankets. Not to mention the enormous fireplace in the middle of the room. “But, I like it.” I loved the crazy big entertainment system.
Thinking about how cold the room felt, I glanced at Gustav, who looked amused. He seemed less sinister and frightening to me on a full stomach. Maybe it was the wine.
“All of us will be pleased to show you around,” said Nora, her English accent sounding more refined than when we were on the ship. “It may take some getting used to, but you will lack for nothing in terms of comfort.”
I smiled and nodded politely, thinking to myself how I didn’t want to get used to this place. Not at all! In my mind, it remained a short vacation. I hoped to get back home soon...maybe in the next few days.
“You must be wondering why we have gone to such trouble to bring you here,” said Gustav, pausing to allow the ‘petticoat trio’ to refresh their goblets with fresh plasma from the punch bowl and return to their seats. Raquel sat next to me, on my right, and Chanson and Nora took the seats across from me. Gustav’s throne loomed above us all to my left. “Truly, it has been many centuries since something this severe has befallen us. If not for recent events that have resulted in only one of your kind left in th
e world—one ‘porteuse saine de sang’, we would have waited until you are older to become fully acquainted.”
“So, you’re saying there’s no one else like me? Garvan and Armando said something about a few other girls somewhere in France.” I thought about what the two had said last week when they visited me in my dorm room. I also recalled what Grandma Terese told me, that my two cousins had been killed.
“You are indeed the last one to survive…the very last one,” said Gustav, a sad smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “May ‘Les Amantes de Vampire’ live on!”
The rest of the room erupted into applause. Nothing like center stage to jack up my confidence, made worse since I had done absolutely nothing to deserve the fervent accolade. The vampires continued to celebrate my presence, some floating toward me as they cheered and clapped. Most clinked their goblets together, spilling crimson droplets to the floor, and all of them smiled. The only exception was Racco, who looked out of place as he studied me in silence from across the table.
“That’s what you all call me? I’m one of the ‘vampire lovers’?”
I know…what kind of name is that, anyway? And my French isn’t quite strong enough to know what the phrase stood for. But, I remembered the monster Ralu defined it for me in my dream the other night. I never anticipated hearing the same phrase so soon.
“Yes,” he said, his tone much softer. “You are the last living descendant of this sacred bloodline. I hope you will allow me to be frank and speak clearly to the point regarding matters which concern you most…matters which you need to understand in order to continue to survive.”
I nodded for him to go on.
“The bearers of the teardrop birthmark have always been treated to elite status among your Basque ancestors, and before that, it was considered a holy sign which Turkish and Hungarian rulers used to determine who would maintain the royal lineage,” he explained, waiting for me to acknowledge my understanding. His eyes seemed to dance with intense energy as he studied my face, finding something there to elicit a brighter smile. Then he continued. “The bloodline you carry is far more ancient than that, Txema. In my youth in Mesopotamia, nearly five thousand years ago, there were those among us who bore the same mark you have on your neck.”
“Does that mean the birthmark originated in the ancient world?”
Pretty obvious, I know. But, heady information like this needed to be explicitly defined, and not taken merely at face value. After all, imagine how this sort of thing would come across if it had been part of the ‘tell us about yourself’ introduction I had to participate in, during UT’s freshman orientation this past August.
“Yes, it did,” he confirmed, chuckling, as if privy to my latest musing. “According to our legends, vampires and this mysterious mark originated within a century of each other. It is unclear as to which came first, but the advent for both took place thousands of years before my birth, and they have always been dependant on each other. Once prevalent among both males and females at the time of Atlantis, the mark eventually changed to where it became a dominant female trait in ancient Egypt and India. During the past four thousand years, I have watched the birthmark diminish to near extinction six times, as the carriers spread northward into Europe. Those occasions were natural events that the vampire kingdoms weathered. This most recent crisis, however, has been brought about by those who want the separate distinction between privileged vampires and those less fortunate to end.”
Not necessarily a terrible thing, I thought to myself. Peace and harmony seem like desirable outcomes for most citizens of the world, in my humble opinion.
“What makes it such a big deal for you to need the ones who bear the birthmark?” I said. “I know you need to feed on people and all, but why is it so imperative to keep someone like me around?”
Gustav released a long, low sigh before answering me.
“Without the slight mixture of your blood in with our normal dietary intake of human plasma, we eventually lose the part of us that is ‘human’,” he said, glancing at my female companions sitting next to me and across the table. “We become savage, without any control over the primal urges at war with our limited humanity.”
He arose from the table, and I wondered if I had somehow offended him by my latest question.
“It is more than just the fact we would no longer keep our youth and our enhanced allure,” he resumed. “Eventually, we would have no self control in regard to how we treat the citizens of your world. I am afraid it would turn into a feeding frenzy upon human flesh and blood. Truly, if our enemies are successful in finding you before we can secure your permanent safety and prosperity, then very soon the human race shall be in grave danger. The tens of thousands of untamed vampires lurking in the shadows will feast without restraint until the last of your race is gone…forever.”
***
Talk about raining on a parade. I didn’t know how to respond, and could only nod respectfully. If I had managed to open my mouth, I’m not sure anything would’ve come out.
Gustav was about to go on with more information, but one of the other vampires rushed up from the rear of the room and interrupted him. I didn’t recognize this particular creature, a young male with long dark hair and features similar to Garvan’s. Unlike most of those in attendance, he was dressed like most of the guys you see every day, back in America, wearing blue jeans and a green polo sweater.
“If you will excuse me, I must attend to something important,” Gustav advised. After a subtle bow, he was gone.
I wish I could say that I was getting used to this ‘here one moment, vanished the next’ routine among the undead immortals. Maybe someday….
With so much to think about, and the prospect of going home anytime soon seeming more and more remote, I was ready to return to my room. But my female companions wouldn’t let me go so readily.
“Come with us, Txema—come see the hidden treasures kept here in the castle!” urged Chanson.
Hard to resist her smile…even harder the collective charm of all three of these ‘ladies of the night’. If charm wasn’t enough, their ironclad grips on my wrists ensured my complete cooperation. They whisked me out of the dining hall and back out into the grand corridor before I even said ‘yes’ to their invitation. From there, we visited nearly a dozen chambers containing rare sculptures, paintings, and other works of art created by many of the world’s most famous classical artists—some French like Morel and Goujon, along with Italian masters Buonarotti, Titian, and Raphael.
Not all works were haunting and dark, as might be expected. It surprised me to see full oil portraits of my three hostesses as well as Garvan, Franz, and Armando created by master painters that includes those mentioned above. The grandest, of course, was a full wall portrait of Gustav that was rendered by Raphael. This famous master also created a smaller wall painting featuring Racco and an unknown female, whom I assumed to be a former love from centuries past, together sitting on a horse.
Other areas they took me to included an immense library that featured some very old books and loose parchment manuscripts, along with a full array of modern titles from the past few years. I made a mental note to come back there in the next day or so, after seeing several MACs with the latest software and hardware upgrades. It could be my window to contacting my family and friends back home, as well as finding out the latest news in America and the world.
Seeing the computers reminded me of how deprived and ignorant I had become in regard to current events, outside of what had been told to me by my vampire entourage and our alchemist host. In other words, except for the conversation with my grandmother and what Chanson shared with me, I didn’t know shit about anything going on outside of the castle and the ship that brought me there.
Around eleven, Chanson dropped me off at my room. The closest thing to a confidante I would find in my new world, I could tell she was growing to like me more and more each day, as well. Maybe it’s because of our shared ancestry, and the fact she of
ten reminds me of me. I wondered if it’s the same for her.
I was pleased to find a warm blaze burning in the fireplace upon entering my bedchamber. A thick terrycloth bathrobe had been laid out on my bed, along with a rose and a white envelope next to it. The rose was real…fresh. The envelope contained a short parchment note, from Racco.
“Txema, hopefully this will cheer you up. If interested in picking up where we left off yesterday, meet me in the main foyer at noon. You will find a snowsuit and boots in the armoire. Be sure to wear them, as an excellent adventure awaits you! Yours faithfully, Racco.”
All the warnings from my vampire protectors evaporated as I read the note a second time…and then a third. By the time I immersed myself in a hot bath in the Jacuzzi tub, I had already made my decision.
I accepted Racco’s request for a date.
Chapter 17
I’m not sure when exactly I fell asleep that night. But, I can say it was sometime after midnight. It was one of those blissful experiences of slipping out of a tired mind and into the world of wonderful dreams. I loved the way it started, where I ran through a field of golden wheat up to my waist. Racco waited for me with his arms opened wide. His muscular chest was exposed within his unbuttoned, long-sleeved white shirt, like what the men in France wore two centuries ago.
But, then something happened in the dream. Darkness descended rapidly from an ominous cloud above, and Racco turned away in terror. He ran for his life, screaming, while the darkness increased and filled my vision. Brisk, frigid air embraced me, and I felt the icy surface of a stone floor beneath the tips of my toes, and the unforgiving contours of a primitive wooden chair under my butt.
“Well, how nice-e-e-e!” rumbled a deep, and unfortunately, familiar voice. “Txema, you decided to drop by for another visit-t-t-t!!”