Twice Bitten

by Aiden James

  “Cleanliness is next to Godliness!” Garvan’s impishness lifted his countenance back to the warmth he normally exudes. Even his eyes were aglow again, and I believe he mostly had forgotten my mention of his immortal rival just moments before. “Perhaps you’ll take up Zen while you’re here, and see that most of what you have paid attention to these past few years is largely empty, meaningless noise.”

  “Perhaps…but a bored mind and empty hands can be the instruments of the Devil, too.” I offered my own wry smile while alternating my disappointed gaze between the obsolete TV and the clock radio. “You still have yet to answer my question.”

  “About what?”

  “About Racco and his staff…when shall I expect their arrival?”

  His smile faded as he studied my face, no doubt torn as to what to tell me, given my hopeful expression.

  “Racco’s not coming, Txema. Right after we left the plane, he unloaded our luggage and our associates and he is already on his way back to France with his staff.”

  “But, I thought—”

  “You thought you could start where you left off three days ago…correct?” His tone remained gentle, but with enough force to emphasize his seriousness. “As if, like you, he’d be welcome here, in this cold place with even colder hosts?”

  He didn’t need to spell it out for me. I had wondered the same thing as Xuanxang addressed us, along with the obvious strictness in dealing with the young servants who all appeared to be fully human. How would a group of free and happy human beings be welcome in such a place?

  “So, I take it this was decided while we were still in the air?”

  I hadn’t seen anything conspire between Chanson or anyone else from the time we left India’s airspace and when we landed on the runway. The decision had to have been made earlier.

  “Yes…I heard Gustav and Racco discuss what needed to be done, right after we heard that so many of Huangtian Dadi’s vampire subjects had defected to Ralu’s political platform,” he explained. “It’s far too dangerous for his people to be here, since they can’t be offered the same protection as you.”

  “This really sucks!” I couldn’t believe Racco had abandoned me, and did so completely. We never got a chance to talk following the previous night’s ceremony, or even after our last awkward exchange before that event. “So, I’m the only human being here from the western world?”

  “At least for now.” His expression was pained, as if he had held out hope I wouldn’t miss Racco, and that I’d be content having only my vampire companions to interact with. “It’s still possible he’ll come back after you’ve given birth to your child and the current tensions throughout the world are lessened.”

  “Like a typical guy,” I said under my breath, for the moment forgetting the dashingly handsome male vampire before me, or the fact his preternatural ears could easily discern my whispered scorn. “Nobody wants to hang out with the knocked-up chick.”

  “That’s not true.” He leaned in closer and grasped my fingers with his hands. His touch was cool, although not as chilled as I expected. “I’ll be delighted to hang out with the ‘knocked-up chick’ anytime.”

  He chuckled warmly and lightly squeezed my fingers.

  “Yes, I’ll most certainly be delighted to do so, Txema!” he emphasized, after I shook my head defiantly. He allowed his smile to widen to the point his slender fangs were exposed. “No matter what happens, know that I will always be there for you. Always.”

  Chapter 3

  “Txema….it’s time for you to awaken.”

  At first I felt completely disoriented, only recognizing Chanson’s voice…somewhere distant, but getting closer. Then, when I opened my eyes, I saw her intense luminous green eyes peering at me through her long shadowed locks. There were other glowing eyes, too, peering at me from her side…a pair that were deep blue and another that were lavender. Two other sets of bright green eyes hovered near the foot of where I lay, just beyond Chanson.

  “Where are we?” I was unable to remember anything other than who was there with me. Armando, Raquel, Garvan, and Tyreen had accompanied Chanson. Slowly, my vision cleared, but it was still dim around me. “What’s going on?”

  “You have an appointment with the big bosses!” Armando jested, moving in closer to where I could see more than just his eyes. A sliver of light shining into the bedroom from my bathroom revealed his chiseled facial features and full lips—not to mention the tips of his gleaming fangs. “You’ll have to get your beauty sleep later on—come on! Chop-chop!”

  “Why is it so dark in here?”

  I forced myself to sit up in my bed. My head throbbed, and I wasn’t sure if it was from lack of sleep or the fragmented nightmare I had just awakened from. The vague and disconnected images were already dissipating from my mind.

  “Oh, come on, damn it—Txema ain’t like us! She can’t see worth shit without a light on!” said Tyreen disgustedly. I heard movement near my bedchamber door, and then suddenly the room was filled with soft yellow light from the lone overhead lamp in the room. “There, that’s gotta be better…right?”

  Yes. Much better.

  They all stood around my bed, my team of protectors. Only at the moment, they seemed more like impish tormentors, as all five vampires wore Cheshire-fanged smiles. All had changed their wardrobe, and most favored the hard-rockin’ Gothic look I had witnessed on several previous occasions, as if they wanted to ensure our Chinese hosts took them seriously. More likely, though, I suppose this was what felt most comfortable, and nothing beyond that…despite the dark shades Armando and Garvan put on once Tyreen brought full light into the room. Being ‘comfortable’ seemed especially true for Raquel, who had chosen an authentic, white silk cheongsam covered with cherry blossoms to wear that morning.

  She truly looked like a princess among barbarians, and her gorgeous eyes and hair made her look perfectly accessorized in terms of style. I started to snicker at the irony, but then Chanson brought out a dark green cheongsam for me to wear.

  “Does she even have time to change?” Armando pointed to my clock radio. “We have less than six minutes left before the meeting starts, promptly at three o’clock!”

  “That gives us just enough time…provided Txema fully cooperates and doesn’t squawk about having to wear sandaled heels to go with her dress,” teased Chanson. As she had the previous night on the jet airplane, she silenced my additional questions with her forefinger. “Hold those thoughts, my dear, or we will be late!”

  Really, my biggest qualm would’ve been how cold it was outside the toasty comfort of my bedchamber. Knowing we would have to travel through the frigid main floor in order to reach the meeting place where more than one hundred vampires were gathered to hear the collective wisdom of Gustav Domnul-delael and Huangtian Dadi wasn’t exactly something to get excited about.

  Chanson motioned for me to stand up once my shoes were on, and Garvan brought me the jacket I wore earlier. I zipped it up tight. If nothing else, it doubled the protection around my neck, since the cheongsam’s neckline came up past my birthmark. At least I wouldn’t have to worry about a room full of vampires lusting after my exposed throat.

  “Wrap your arms around my waist, cousin, and we’ll be on our way!”

  She didn’t feel near as cold as she had earlier, and her color was flushed. She had finally fed. While my thoughts about the logistics of opening the heavy bedchamber door and then navigating the hallway and stairs were still in their infancy, my surroundings suddenly became a blur. I was only lightly aware of my door opening and an abrasive draft of chilly air that steadily grew colder.

  Once downstairs, I recognized the main floor’s long corridor, barely, as we raced through it. Speeding faster and faster, everything soon turned to unrecognizable. Glimpses of marble pillars, granite walls, and the fleeting face of an Asian child here and there told me that we were still in the same place.

  The air grew incredibly cold, but only for a moment. More blurred images raced be
fore my eyes, this time of another immense archway that surely marked the entrance to one of the other buildings in the complex. The air now warmer, the dimness of my surroundings suddenly became much brighter. Our speed slowed down, dramatically.

  That’s when I heard the voices…more than a hundred. Most of the accents were European, along with some words I could make out and at least partially understand. Other voices, however, spoke a language with harsher enunciations. I knew instinctively that these belonged to our Chinese hosts, whose comfort with ancient dialects was later confirmed in private by Garvan.

  “We’re here!” Chanson announced, smiling broadly after coming to an abrupt halt in front of a grand hall. My head ached for a moment, and it took a valiant effort to keep my stomach’s contents from pouring out of my mouth.

  “And, look, we are indeed the last ones to arrive, with, hmmm…maybe twenty to thirty seconds to find a seat before this little convention begins!”

  Although his tone remained jovial, Armando shot an irritated look toward Chanson. She did her best to ignore him, but her grip on my hand tightened as she led us into the throng. No doubt, his little barb angered her.

  “It appears we’ll be standing after all,” said Garvan, hustling through the crowd of vampires to catch up to us.

  It appeared he was right, as I didn’t see any immediate chairs before us. But it hardly mattered. Definitely, this was by far the most ostentatious area I’d seen so far in the palace. My vampire companions surely agreed, as I heard several polite murmurs of ‘ooh’ and ‘ah-ha’ among them. Raquel and Tyreen were especially impressed, wearing childlike expressions of wonder as they sought to move up closer to the immense gilded stage where two heavily jeweled thrones sat unattended.

  Like everywhere else in the palace thus far, there were dragons—both in sculptures and paintings. In this case, however, the detailed reptiles were adorned in gold, with a variety of jewels used for the eyes. They covered the walls and several of the sculptures dotted the hall floor as indoor fountains that, thankfully, contained flowing water instead of blood. Even the paintings glistened with such embossed richness. The twisting body of one enormous dragon sat directly above the pair of thrones. Other than that, the marble columns, inlaid floors, and walls were the same as the main building’s first level—only on a bigger and more refined scale in terms of artisanship.

  Meanwhile, the vampire multitude in attendance watched me. Most were familiar, having resided in Le chateau de douleur when I was brought there from America the previous week. Unlike those happier times for them, when every night was like a Mardi Gras celebration and they were glad to see me, they now regarded me warily—as if blaming me solely for the loss of their cherished haven. Granted, if not for the near extinction of my kind that led to Ralu’s attack upon their French home, the ongoing party would still be in progress each night in the Pyrenees.

  But they would also be partying on borrowed time, since my bloodline is the only thing that separates them from Ralu’s Chupacabra fate. In a matter of decades, they’d all be the same—which is Ralu’s quest. They wouldn’t have to worry about receiving refuge invitations from their Chinese brethren.

  “They don’t all hate you,” whispered Garvan from behind me. “You have more friends among them than enemies.”

  I whirled around to face him while Chanson continued to drag me through the crowd. He smiled lovingly, and I felt grateful that he kept pace. It engendered a sense of peace to see his determination to stay close to me. Not that my immortal cousin’s treatment of me as her little sister didn’t help create that same feeling of well-being. It just meant something extra to have a male—this gorgeous vampire—also stay the course with me. I needed them both to get through the profound uncertainty I found myself floating in.

  We almost made it to the front, where Tyreen and Raquel excitedly called to us, acting like a pair of famished groupies at a Marilyn Manson concert. But before we could join them, out of nowhere the kings of our immortal gathering suddenly flew onto the lavish platform. I thought the restless crowd might erupt into a fervor rivaling the feel of a rock concert, and prepared myself for the possible crush of their denser bodies upon me. Luckily, it didn’t happen.

  Pomp and circumstance are handled differently among those who have been witness to such excesses from century to century, I suppose. Rather than an eruption of applause and spirited emotion, a death-like stillness encompassed the entire room.

  Dressed in their full raiment as vampire royalty, in rich colorful robes of the finest silk and inlaid gemstones, the pair moved over to their thrones and sat down. Gustav and Huangtian Dadi were roughly the same height, but Gustav’s pope-like crown was a few inches shorter than the gold pagoda crown adorning Huangtian Dadi’s head.

  For those unfamiliar with my first book, Gustav Domnul-delael is perhaps the oldest vampire in the world. Unless someone else predates his ‘turning birth’, back when Mesopotamian civilizations flourished. Yes, that makes him nearly five thousand years old. I find his appearance to be somewhat frightening in comparison to much younger vampires like Chanson, Armando, and Garvan.

  Gustav’s skin is as white as alabaster, and when he has fed, his skin takes on an almost pink appearance with slightly more blushing upon his cheeks. I’ve heard that he can crush a man’s bones with the slightest touch, and yet when he held my hand to guide me to my place of honor at the celebration table in Racco’s castle last week, he did so as delicately as a newborn baby holding its mother’s fingers.

  It’s the eyes that frighten me most. Like two matching kaleidoscopes where the color morphs between every brilliant shade of blue one can imagine and pure gold. Impossible to read accurately, I worry sometimes about the monster that lies dormant behind those eyes, behind the serene and fatherly façade. I’d never want to be the one to awaken it.

  As for Huangtian Dadi, his appearance was similar to Gustav’s—at least in the sense of lifeless skin tone. Unlike Gustav, however, this ancient vampire likes to wear makeup. I’m sure of it. Even from where we stood, I detected rouge upon his cheeks and chin. And, if I was wrong about that—which I’m not—Huangtian Dadi has a fetish for eyeliner.

  Even so, it would be most foolish to underestimate the ruthless soul that has commanded subservience among his undead Asian peers for the past twenty-eight hundred years. Chanson and Armando took considerable pleasure in detailing this vampire’s barbaric rise to power after our return to our quarters that night. (Huangtian Dadi and Gustav decided to allow all five of my vampire companions share my room with me for the duration of our stay in the palace.) The reigning Lord of the Dragon Masters who turned Huangtian Dadi into a vampire at the time was known as Cao Guojiu. Cao Guojiu has since been destroyed—some legends say by Huangtian Dadi himself during his rise to power in China two millennia ago.

  “Greetings to you all!” Gustav exhorted us, his rich, mellow voice easily traveling across the room from where he sat. This morning, he also carried a long golden scepter in his lap that was embedded with jewels similar to the throne he sat upon. “Our gracious host and fellow vampire ruler—Huangtian Dadi—and I have gathered all of you here to outline our course of action in response to the latest aggressions by my brother, Ralu Izcacus. It is imperative that we follow our new plan precisely, and that we all be ready to migrate to a safer vantage point at a moment’s notice.”

  He paused before going on, studying the crowd before him. I’m not sure if he expected a reaction of some sort, but for the moment, the throng remained quiet. The proverbial pin dropping on the floor and being the only thing heard would be quite apropos. Satisfied that he had our attention, he lightly nodded his head and then scanned the room…for me.

  “Txema Ybarra…do you like your accommodations?”

  Naturally, everyone turned to look at me, as if they were synchronized zombies in a horrid B-movie. Even Chanson turned to study me, and I could tell she had no idea that our leadership’s conversation would include direct dialogue with me.r />
  “Um..yeah, they’re pretty decent.” I nodded slightly while I looked around. George Romero would be so proud. No emotion—just a room full of the undead staring back at me. Mind you, the grand hall was already cold, and my flimsy coat was failing miserably to keep me warm. But, the vamps as a group were sucking even more heat from my personal space. “I guess the only thing lacking from my room is some decent TV. Since I don’t have HBO, I’m gonna miss the latest episodes of True Blood.”

  I’m not normally a bitch or some spoiled ingrate. But sometimes irreverent thoughts are impossible for me to keep locked up in my head. I didn’t think anyone present would laugh—although I heard a stifled chuckle escape from Tyreen. Like I said, it just comes out.

  “What is True Blood?” Huangtian Dadi’s voice sounded surprisingly smooth and melodic—sort of like Gustav’s, the first time I heard his. It must be the tone of genuine surprise for the older vampires. He looked over at Gustav and then back at me again.

  “It is a United States television program that features vampires, witches, and shape-shifters,” said Gustav, before I had a chance to respond.

  He eyed me seriously, as if trying to decide if he should rebuke me for my smart mouth or not.

  “So, it is ‘make believe’?” Huangtian Dadi sought to confirm with Gustav. I was entirely excluded from the conversation. For that matter, so was everyone else. “It sounds interesting. But what do the good citizens of the world think of such a tale? Perhaps they might gather their torches and pitchforks, as they used to do for all of us, and still do for Ralu in some places in South America, from what I understand!”

  The crowd loved this, as uproarious laughter spread throughout the hall. How Republican of them all, to ridicule the one TV show I found it hard to live without in order to further ingratiate themselves with our ‘Boy George’ looking host. But I did learn one thing. It appeared that Huangtian Dadi had a better outward sense of humor than Xuanxang did. This could come in handy later on.