Darkened Days

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Darkened Days Page 8

by C. L. Quinn


  He wasn’t sure he’d ever been that homicidal. Just at the thought of her threatening to have brutal men hurt Starla. He held his ground, rigid, furious, helpless.

  Through clenched teeth, he spoke. He gave her a small tight nod.

  “I will do what you want me to do. Don’t hurt her. If I find out you do, nothing on this earth would save you. You can fuck me or beat me. But don’t touch her. Don’t let anyone else touch her. Comprendre?”

  Crystal stretched her arms high above her head lingeringly. “I do. I agree to your terms. And I would have hated to have hurt her. You’re right. She’s sweet and innocent. But she’s angry. Did you notice? She was made vampire against her will. Did you have something to do with that? I wouldn’t be surprised. You seem like a man who does what he wants to do. That one is special. You have good taste at least. Well, thanks for giving me power to show you that I, too, do what I want to do.”

  She disappeared and he did not see her again for another three days. He was bored and tired to death of stale bagged blood. Jacob began to toy with the idea of telepathy. If the first blood vampires could connect that way, and if “made” vampires like him were given the gifts of health, long life, and vitality from their blood, then, like Crystal, would it be possible he might have some abilities? He’d thought about it a few times since the first bloods were revealed to him and his friends last year.

  With nothing else to lose, Jacob dropped back down to the hard floor and tugged the blanket loose from where it was knotted at his hips, then laid it over his lap. With closed eyes, he cleared his mind. He tried to picture the villa. He and Bas had lived there for the past year. Bas had only recently moved into a new villa just finished for him and his wife Park, six minutes down the road from Koen’s villa. It was a little larger than Koen’s place, which was four stories, and a hidden underground tier that held panic rooms and escape routes in case of attack. Bas had been able to have a baby with his first blood wife. He’d teased Park, his hands curled around her taut belly, flat again after childbirth due mostly to vampire genes.

  “I’m going to plant one of these little guys in there every other year. We’ll have a soccer team before you know it.”

  Park had grabbed him and pulled him to her.

  “That better be a promise you deliver on, mister,” she said. Nothing would make them happier. First blood children were so rare that it had been a long time since there was a breeding couple who might be able to repeatedly become pregnant. Bas and Park were determined to prove it could be done. So, for that reason, Bas had the villa built with numerous additional chambers for progeny he determined they would have.

  Alright, Jacob would try this.

  He imagined a white space like he’d heard Eillia tell Park once. Empty mind, open to the universe. Heard himself snort in derision and his eyes opened.

  Idiot, he chided himself. Take this seriously. Otherwise that bitch is going to be back for a piece of you. And you still have to make good on your promise to protect Starla. Get it together man.

  So, Jacob took a deep breath, closed his eyes again, and emptied his mind. Again. It worked this time. Relaxed and focused, he felt a sense of euphoria. Was he connecting to someone? He tried to reach Eillia, who sent him on this quest. If anyone would receive him, it would be her. She was very powerful. Finding out she was a first blood vampire had not been a surprise. Finding out they existed at all, had been.

  How would you send a distress signal? He didn’t know. So he just stayed still, kept the position and emptiness. Come to Xavier’s home in Paris and rescue me, he thought over and over. And over.

  Nothing happened. Lying back completely flat against the floor, he moaned. What made him think this was possible at all? He didn’t know any vampire that had first blood abilities. He sat up suddenly.

  No. That wasn’t entirely true. Dez. She used telepathy all the time. And she was a “made” vampire like him. She was an old, old friend who resided in South America. And she could read and send thoughts.

  So he tried again until he was exhausted. Tried both Eillia and Dez. He was desperate. And starving. It had been twenty four hours since someone had brought food. His jailer was sorely lacking in providing adequate caloric intake for a vampire. She would know better.

  Why would she starve him? The answer struck as soon as he thought the question.

  To keep him weak. To keep control. So he would never get free.

  Not gonna work, he thought. I will get free of this place and there will be hell to pay.

  Henri was holding Starla up. Or…was she holding him up? Hard to say at this moment. Neither one of them was even close to sober. He let his hand slip past her shoulder to rest on a breast. Ah, he missed this.

  Why didn’t she want him? He was a big ass sexy vampire. She should want him!

  They’d emptied all the little bottles of alcohol on the plane and continued all the way downtown in celebration of arriving in Cairo. Time to seek daylight shelter, though, before they could explore the city. The taxi driver had been helpful with a good lead for a quality hotel. They would be in bed shortly to sleep until darkness arrived again.

  Henri looked at Starla who was watching everything out the taxi window. He loved her. He’d known from the first she didn’t return the feelings. It had been okay then.

  Now, he sensed such sadness in her. Well, always. She’d never been like the others. Never a happy vampire. The sadness had always been there. Like she’d lost something.

  But lately, the sadness seemed deeper. Waiting for the plane in Paris, he’d watched her closely. There was something else. A new sadness. What was it? That older vampire at the Incognito, he wondered who he was. But that was behind them now. He would make her smile again.

  They got a room with two full size beds and fell asleep exhilarated and exhausted as soon as their heads hit the plush pillows.

  An extraordinarily busy city, Cairo was filled with energy, people from everywhere going everyplace doing everything. It was a constant cacophony of sounds and movement. The two young vampires turned international travelers embraced the history and beauty of this ancient land.

  The first week was a whirlwind of visiting classic tourist spots like the Pyramids of Giza and the Sphinx, rising up from the desert, eerily lit at night, monoliths surrounded by brilliant stars and an encroaching metropolis.

  And they partied. Nightclubs, restaurants, all the things a young vampire would do in such a vibrant city.

  Watching Henri on the dance floor one night, Starla thought about her life now.

  The blood. She was okay with it. She’d adapted to its necessity and even enjoyed it sometimes. It ignited a sexual need, though, but the timing was always shit. Because the creeps she chose for her blood meals weren’t ever her type. She felt better taking blood from people she thought deserved it.

  Starla killed a second bottle of vodka, finally feeling the buzz. She liked the buzz.

  The sex. She leaned over and pulled the loose strap up on her high heeled sandals. They were very, very sexy. Her shirt gaped and let everyone looking that direction have a nice view of her breasts. It was really hot, even this late at night, so she’d left her bra in her room. She looked up to see several sets of eyes land exactly there and knew the effect she had on them. Smiling, she sat back up and scanned the dance floor.

  Henri was right. Vampire sex was intense and frequent. Usually fast and furious. No foreplay, no romance, no kissing. Just the act that culminated in orgasm, and then a quick push back from your partner to probably do the same thing the next night with someone different. Henri had been her only repeat partner.

  The choice to remain celibate would be hard. Was it cheating to pleasure yourself?

  A thought of Jacob brought a warm moist rush down there. The memory of how she felt in Jacob’s arms when he got pissed and touched her like she’d never been touched. His promise to do things to her that no one else could do. The thought. His tongue working that hypersensitive slit. She belie
ved him when he said she would scream in ecstasy. But the coward was gone. She would have nothing else to do with that betrayer.

  She rolled her eyes. What a hypocrite!

  “You’d go down on him in a New York minute, you poser,” she said out loud to herself. It was true. She still wanted him badly. She couldn’t justify it to herself. He was just an asshole sent too late to save her from her vampire fate. He’d left her in trouble to save his own vampire ass.

  “How can such a big man be such a pussy?”

  She said this out loud too, as Henri came back to the table with a lovely local girl on each arm.

  “Pussy? Who’s a pussy?”

  Starla shook her head and pushed his bottle of beer toward him. “Nothing, Henri. Just an asshole I knew.”

  “Well, I have two pussy’s here who want to come up to our room to party.” He leaned over and whispered in her ear. “On their own. No compulsion. They like French men. I’m going to get my blood meal from them. There’s enough for two. Join us.”

  Drawing back, Starla let her eyes wander to Henri’s small harem. Gorgeous women, smooth dark skin, close cropped hair that accentuated classic features, fit bodies, heavily made up exotic eyes.

  Well, she did need to eat. She grabbed her pretty beaded bag they’d liberated from a street market earlier that night.

  “Sure, I’ll join you.”

  Henri’s smile went electric. “Spectaculaire! A foursome!”

  Starla popped him in the face with the little bag.

  “For my blood meal. Not sex. These girls will keep you busy anyway. I’ll clear out after I’ve eaten.”

  With a dimmer smile, Henri led his women out of the nightclub behind Starla. Ah, he thought, a man can hope.

  Up in their windowless hotel room, Henri had one girl out of her clothes and on top of him almost immediately. In her bed next to Henri’s, Starla began a soft compel to calm the second girl as she bit and quickly drew sweet hot blood for several minutes. She had no interest in sex with her, although the girl was beautiful, she would remain true to her promise of celibacy.

  Henri was right. Her vampire genome was punishing her for not giving her body what it craved. Sleep was sporadic now and she found herself in almost a constant state of arousal. She hoped it would lessen with time. Especially since every time she thought of sex now, it was with Jacob. She should never have let her mind linger on him tonight. His hands, his mouth, his cock between her legs… Stop it!

  Shit! Her thoughts of Jacob had distracted her and she found the girl pushing her back onto the bed, under the influence of the blood draw. Humans were often sexually stimulated during vampire blood draws. She put her hand on the girl’s forehead and instructed her to stop, then sent her over to enjoy herself with Henri and the other girl.

  As she closed the door, she smiled. Henri was happy at least. She was too, as she made her way to an all-night buffet to truly test its policy on all-night.

  She spent the night people-watching at the Khan El-Khalili, the oldest bazaar and marketplace in the city. A few times she smiled and spoke with passersby, using the common greeting “salaam,” which meant peace. She and Henri had picked up several Arabic phrases which they found themselves already using frequently.

  A young dark-haired girl came over to her, and charmed her way into Starla’s heart. She spoke halting English, but Starla thought she did very well for a six year old. She’d never had an overwhelming desire to have children, and now it was out of the question. But the lovely tawny skinned child had made her, just briefly, sorry she never would

  It was a quiet enchanting night. Humans, people, doing their thing. Living their lives. She loved every element of their diversity. All shapes, sizes, colors, and mostly, their uniqueness. Loud aggressive people who demanded to be heard and seen, to quiet calm people who tried to blend into the background. Pretty girls who strutted their stuff and plain girls who watched them enviously. Intelligent types who were trying to calculate the order of the universe, and types who were just lucky it didn’t take simple math to pay for a coke. Everyone moving separately to make a life. And hope that it was a good one in the end.

  She felt like her café table perched on the edge of humanity and after her defeated attitude and disappointment in Jacob, it was time to rediscover it. This was a very good night.

  When she entered their room just before sunrise, in the dim light cast by the hallway, she saw Henri stretched out full length sideways on his bed, the two young women lay across him. A human blanket. His perfect buttocks and the back of his head were all that were visible. With the door open to keep the hallway light available, Starla slipped in quietly and went around the bed to waken him. She squatted down and blew into his ear. Violently, a hand came up and swatted his ear, then dropped. She blew again, and he repeated the gesture, more violently, until an eye popped open. His face was crushed against the mattress.

  “Oh, Star, it’s you. Fuck off!”

  “I know you mean that lovingly.”

  He groaned and rolled over, dislodging the girls into a heap at the foot of the bed. Smashing his eye with the palm of one hand like a child would do, he looked at her with the other and smiled.

  “Oui, you know I do. Ugh! We do not get sick, but we do get hangovers. This one’s a monster. Is it morning?”

  “Yes, nearly. Get rid of your girls. Time to sleep.” She paused and looked at the girls happily snoozing.

  “Score. That’s your new nickname. It suits the new you. The man who scores. I like it.”

  He smiled in spite of the headache, shook the girls, had them dress, compelled them to forget the night.

  “Except,” he added, “That you had incredible sex with an extraordinarily well-endowed man called Score. If a man ever comes up to you again, and says my name is Score, you will remember spectacular sex and want him again. Now go.”

  Starla threw a pillow at him.

  “Such a guy thing to do. Your self-esteem is governed by your cock.”

  Still naked, Henri went to the door to close and lock it. He turned, giving Starla a nice long look.

  She smiled and rolled her eyes.

  “Oh, I admit your equipment is impressive. They were lucky girls. I’m just saying you men are all about the little head.”

  Henri pitched the pillow back and crawled into his bed. Wearing a light tee and panties, Starla dropped into hers to sleep away the daylight.

  Tonight, they were heading out of Cairo. The first week of what was now a worldwide journey. She fell asleep with a strange sense of serenity. She felt she was exactly where she needed to be right now and that everything was happening exactly as it should. Wasn’t that a line in the poem the Desiderata? Tonight, it spoke to her. It had been her best night in a long time.

  Once they traveled to Luxor, they fell completely in love with Egypt. Also located along the mighty Nile, the city held an incredible wealth of the ancient history of this country. A taxi driver back in Cairo told Starla they must not miss the Temples of Karnak if they wanted to truly feel Egypt.

  They arrived on a crystal clear night to the area aptly named Valley of the Kings, a well preserved complex of temples. Softly lit in glowing amber, the huge carved stone monuments were jaw-dropping. On these royal burial grounds, dozens of tombs held gateways for visitors to step back in time. Enormous statues carved in stone lined avenues of ruins left by people who long ago left this world. Starla was particularly touched by the carvings and paintings. She fingered the warm stone that someone else had touched thousands of years ago. Monuments to a people who believed in immortality, and left detailed evidence of their lives for wanderers like Starla and Henri.

  Roaming through the long abandoned streets, their footfalls in the echo of those that came before, she and Henri felt connected to them through ancestry of blood. They were silent as no words felt important enough to interrupt the ghosts.

  Returning to Cairo later that week, she felt the pull of eternity even stronger now that, as vampire, s
he would likely be here to experience changes wrought by time. She would actually live through history. As a human, the tiny amount of years could see significant changes, but never what centuries would bring. It finally hit her. She would be here to witness mankind’s journey for hundreds, if not thousands, of years. Something began in the pit of her belly at what her life held now. A long, long future. Who wouldn’t want to live forever?

  The question hung there in her mind. And she realized. She did want this gift of immortality. She did want to be here to see the march of time in mankind’s journey.

  The Pyramids rose up out of the darkness, their tips pointing to the sky.

  Starla found it was suddenly hard to breathe and she told Henri to stop the car. As soon as it did, she jumped out. Henri came around to her.

  “Star? What’s wrong?”

  “I just got it. Immortality. Henri, we’re going to live to see mankind put the first human on Mars. Maybe leave the solar system. We’re going to be here to see if Earth survives our rampant consumerism that is ripping out her guts. We’re going to live to see generation after generation have children, grow old, and die. It’s overwhelming.”

  She paused to look at the starkly lit monoliths breaching the star-filled sky above them.

  “Henri.”

  She whispered because it was just so sacred here in this ancient land. They shared the air with those who went before and were yet to come. “We’re immortal.”

  He was quiet too. She could see the enormity hadn’t struck him either until now.

  “We’ve been all about the sex and partying. Well, that’s what young people do. But we are still going to be here hundreds of years from now. Still young. Living history.”

  She walked closer to the monument.

 

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