hadn't blossomed yet in my mind, I was working on a vampire/angel story that I tentatively titled then,
. That was sort of the thing back then - vampires and angels - though I dare say the bloodsuckers seem to still be sticking around. Anyway, I liked the idea of that good vs. evil, demon vs. angel dichotomy and where was the line really between the two. I like blurring the perception of evil and good, I like good guys who don't always make the right decision and bad guys who might have had a bad rap. Maybe
occurred and I found I already had the molds ready for Nicky and Xander and where their story took place. I stole it from
. I think it speaks volumes how easily Nicky was transformed from a vampire and Xander from an angel. Since I doubt I'll ever revisit this one, unless I can somehow come up with a way of completely revamping (ha! vamp!) it without losing my original intent for the plot, I've decided to share the first two chapters here. It's a bit long, so sit back, grab a cup of coffee or tea, snuggle up with a blanket and see if you can point out the similarities.
Chapter
One
The rain beat
mercilessly against the window as Archbishop Father Saltarelli stood staring
out its blurry panes at the soaked city streets outside, turned green and gray
in a mixture of asphalt and drooping trees. His bright red robes were the only shot of color in the
otherwise dark and dreary room of the refectory on loan from a very nervous
priest of the Holy Trinity Catholic Church in a small suburb just outside
Philadelphia.
The
rain had been relentless all week, delaying the Archbishop’s flight here from
the Vatican City and darkening his mood everyday since. Being in the angel’s presence was
supposed to help, but instead it only made him anxious. He did his best to keep his anxieties
to himself and portray an image of calm command. Still, the angel sitting in the dark green armchair in front
of him, dressed in faded brown suede pants and a fitted brown leather jacket
zipped up to the hollow of his neck, looking more like a biker of hell than a
messenger of God, did little to quell his fears. Especially considering who the angel was, the sword he kept
rested across his knees, and most importantly, the reason for the meeting.
“So
this is the plan...,” the angel said.
His voice was deep, but soft, almost as if he spoke to a child; not what
you would expect from the Messenger of God. “Do you concur?”
Saltarelli
nodded, turned from the window and said, “Sì. Yes.” He then
walked to the desk and picked up the phone, pressed one button and waited. “Please send him in,” he said to the voice
on the other line.
After returning
the phone to its cradle, he nervously flattened the folds of his robe and
contemplated whether he should remain standing or if he should sit down at the
desk. As he began to lower himself
in the chair, the door opened. The
nervous priest in charge of the church held the handle with a shaky hand while
remaining in the doorway, his back pressed against the door jam. His eyes were cast down or sideways,
always averted away from the handsome young man entering the room behind him
who shot him a look of smug amusement with one eyebrow raised as he
passed.
What vexed the
antsy priest was that the young man was not a man.
Though the
presence of angels was normally something of a calming peace to humans, the
presence of this angel was not, and
certainly not the presence of the Archangel sitting in the armchair.
Saltarelli
dismissed the priest with the wave of his hand as he appraised the angel who
entered with a swagger and stood before the desk with his hands in fists at his
side.
He looked to be in
his early twenties, though he was much, much older. He was there when Rome fell and a new world was discovered,
when Germany dropped their bombs on England, and man landed on the moon. His eternally preserved youthful
appearance successfully belied his age, but his heavenly beauty did little to
deny what he was. His wavy, messy
blonde hair shined in the overhead light, creating a halo of its own. It hung down to his jaw line and fell
into the angel’s eyes without him caring enough to push it away. He wore confidence and arrogance as
easily as he wore his lightweight armor—a breastplate and arm shields made of a
thin, onyx-looking material that was not anything earth-made. The armor was strapped over clothes
similar to the Archangel’s though instead of brown suede and leather, his was
all black leather, worn down soft and dull.
“Daniel,”
Saltarelli greeted him with a nod, gesturing to the unoccupied armchair. “Please have a seat. Thank you so much for coming.”
“Let’s not kid
ourselves,” Daniel said in a deep voice peppered like a minefield with bitter
rebellion as he glanced down at the Archangel in the chair beside him. “It’s not exactly like I had a choice.”
“You design your
own path, Daniel,” the Archangel said, his dark brown eyes looking up at Daniel
beneath a shading of thick black eyelashes. Behind his eyes there was infinite kindness. “I didn’t want to choose this for you.”
Daniel lowered
himself into the chair and stretched his long legs out as far as the desk
before him would allow. “Ah,
Gabe,” he sighed. “You almost
sound like you’re saying ‘This is going to hurt me more than it will hurt
you’.”
“It will. This is a dangerous task we ask of you,
but it may also be good for you.
It may give you the dose of humility you so desperately need.”
Daniel sat up and
clenched the arms of the chair with both hands, his knuckles instantly turning
white and the veins in his hands protruding through the golden brown skin. “What happened in Greece—,” he began to
say through clenched teeth, his blue eyes lighting up with fierce excitement as
he glared at the other angel.
“An angel with an
attitude is a poor reflection of the Order,” Gabriel interrupted, his patience
diminishing with each word.
“And the Angel of
the Horn is known for his mercy?” Daniel retorted, snorting and slumping back
in the chair.
Gabriel was the
most patient and controlled of all the Archangels. You had to be when dealing with the Creator personally. And yet Daniel had a way of trying his
patience daily. He was famous for
it, in fact.
Gabriel opened his
mouth to continue arguing but stopped himself, glancing sideways to the
Archbishop before sighing and restraining his voice. “We can discuss this some other time. Your orders come directly from the
Dominions.”
This affected
Daniel and he stiffened slightly, his voice more alert. “Why are they involved?”
“Because of the
nature of your mission. And who it
involves,” Gabriel said. “The
Dominions and the Powers have agreed that the duty of demon slaying needs to be
concentrated on one area. The
vampire has gained in popularity among the humans. For…,” Gabriel sighed while rolling his eyes, “whatever reason…the humans have
romanticized their image and have even begun to accept them into their culture
and society. I think mostly
because so few have ever actually encountered a vampire and lived to tell of
it, and so they know not what it is they admire. If they knew the gruesome and vile lifestyles of these demon
pests, if they could see the beast that hides behind the cold beauty, they
would rethink their support.
However, that is a discussion for another time. For this matter, the Second Sphere
wants us to begin eradicating the vampires and the best way for us to do that
is to start at the top.”
Gabriel paused a
moment, giving Daniel time to ask any questions, and looked at the
Archbishop. The man’s face paled
more and more through the course of the conversation as he sat silent. Gabriel wasn’t sure if it was out of
fear of the topic or the fact that the Vatican had yet to accept the vampires’
existence at all.
When Daniel
remained silent, the Archangel continued with a sigh. “The daughter of the Dragon has been sent away from her
coven. A semi-voluntary exile, if
you will. Her inheritance of the
mantel is a threat to the rest of the vampires—how so, we do not yet know. The Dragon is ten years into his fifty
year hibernation period. I
supposed the elders are taking advantage of his absence. Our informants tell us she was
encouraged to go to college while the elders decide what to do with her. They felt it was the best place to keep
her safe. At least that’s the
story we’re getting. As you know
with vampires, the truth seldom plays a part.”
“Daughter?” Daniel
asked, finally finding something of interest in the discussion. “Is that what Vlad is calling his turned now?”
“No,” Gabriel
answered, his face giving the slightest hint of expression with a flicker of
his eyebrow. “She is actually of
his flesh and blood, so to speak.”
“I didn’t think
the bats could reproduce,” Daniel said with unmasked disgust.
“The males can
with humans, though the hybrids rarely survive past infancy. The half breeds are considered an
abomination and the vampires typically kill off the newborns immediately if not
while still in the mother’s womb.
This is the first we’ve heard of Vlad himself impregnating anyone which
is probably why she’s survived.
This makes her special.”
“She is an abomination!” the Archbishop
interrupted with sudden passion and pestilence in his voice, his face
reddening.
Gabriel shot him a
look that instantly hushed him and the Archangel continued. “We know very little about the
offspring that are half human, half vampire, those that have been allowed to
live. We do not know how much of
the vampiric abilities or powers they retain, or how much of their humanity
exists, if any at all. So in this,
we are blind and at an immediate disadvantage.”
“Wow,” Daniel
said. He leaned back in this chair
and rubbed his neck. “Can’t wait
to hear what I get to do.”
“You will go
undercover,” Gabriel said, ignoring his sarcasm and nodding to the Archbishop
who produced a black folder from his briefcase and handed it to Gabriel.
Gabriel opened the
folder on the desk before him, spreading out documents and black and white
photographs, and leaned in, as did Daniel. “Her name is Adrianna.
She is going by Adrianna Tepes while at school. She is now a freshman at Morgan Baptist
University in Arkadelphia, Arkansas.”
“Morgan Baptist University?” Daniel repeated,
his eyebrows raised.
“Yes.” Gabriel
smiled. “It would seem she is not
without irony.”
“Or a sense of
humor,” Daniel murmured.
“But…how?”
“It is of no harm
to her. The Baptists are not like
the Catholics. There are no
crosses other than on top of the chapel and they don’t use Holy Water. It’s a school, so it’s not hallowed
ground but for the chapel and as long as she stays out of there, she should be
fine.”
“Serves the
heretics right,” the Archbishop seethed.
“If they had never broken from the true faith, they would not have
demons among them now.”
“Father,”
Gabriel said, his hands resting on top of the paperwork on the desk. “We don’t have time for your dogma
right now. As you know, we serve
all faiths. Whether they believe
in us or not.”
Once again, this
silenced the Archbishop, but for how long, Gabriel and Daniel did not
know. Daniel pulled out the only
colored photo—a young woman with long, light brown hair and big blue eyes—and
frowned. “She’s…pretty, but not
what you’d expect a vampire to look like,” he said.
“That’s her
mother,” Gabriel replied after glancing quickly at the photo, pushing his black
curls away from his pale forehead.
“Oh. Where is her mother in all of this?” Daniel asked.
“She’s dead. Adrianna bit her and drained her as
soon as she ripped herself free of the womb.”
“Sweet kid,”
Daniel smirked. He studied the
picture with a somber expression.
The photo looked like it had been taken in the early 80’s and the woman
smiled wide and brightly at the camera, completely unaware of the dark fate
that awaited her. Daniel shrugged
and dropped the photo, leafing through the rest of the paperwork. “Why do you have a photo of her mother?”
“Because we don’t
know what Adrianna looks like.
She’s been kept well hidden.
Even from humans. This will
hopefully give us something, if she resembles her mother at all. You should be
able to sense her, but with her being half human, we are taking every
precaution.”
“She’s not feeding
while she’s there?”
“So far, we have
no reports,” said Gabriel. “She
might have brought her own supply.
Then again, she could be going elsewhere, outside the town, outside the
state. Shreveport is just a
three-hour drive away, she could feed easily and undetected there.”
“So I’m to just go
to this school and…what, kill her?” Daniel asked. “I assume killing her is why you asked me to do the job, but
why her? Why not just take out
Vlad himself?”
“That’s part of
the plan. We don’t want you to
just go in and kill her, though that will be part of your ultimate goal. We want you to befriend her. Gain her trust. Find out where her coven is. Where her father is kept while he
sleeps. She may be easily
influenced right now. We’re not
really sure why she’s been sent away.
Adrianna has immediate right to take over as head of the coven. As you know, that position is currently
held by Nicolae, who rules in Vlad’s stead, and we don’t believe he is eager to
give that up to an eighteen year-old half breed. We don’t think Vlad has had an active role in his daughter’s
life prior to his hibernation.
Nicolae wouldn’t dare kill the Dragon’s daughter but he could postpone
her ambitions for a while. Again,
this is all assumption. Your job
is to find out the truth. Once you
get a lockdown on their location, Michael will bring the Army in. You will take out Adrianna, I will
handle Nicolae, and Michael gets Vlad.”
Daniel
straightened up at the mention of the other Archangel’s name. Michael was like a father to him, if
angels could have such a thing. He
had trained Daniel personally to become an Avenging Angel and he was the reason
Daniel was so angry with the Order.
“I don’t
understand,” said Archbishop Saltarelli.
“Why do you need all this strategy? You are the Light of God. You are the Army of His Holy Father. He is the All-Knowing. Why can’t He just smite them at once
and do away with the whole lot?”
“That would be too
easy, wouldn’t it?” Gabriel asked, his words biting but not bitter. “God
made mankind upright, but men have gone in search of many schemes,” the
Archangel said, quoting Ecclesiastes.
“So that’s it
then?” Daniel asked, ignoring the man behind the desk who looked flabbergasted
for being reprimanded in theology.
“I just go to college, befriend this girl, get her to trust me and then
totally betray her and kill her family?”
“You’re humanizing
them,” Gabriel said. “I’m proud of
you. It’s something you should do
with the humans, though, and not the
vampires.” He grinned and the
light of Heaven shined through his smile.
“No, that’s not all,” Gabriel continued. “But I will give you the rest later. There will be a nun accompanying
you. Her name is Sister Mary Stephena. She will be your contact with the
Vatican. Now,” he rose from his
seat, towering over the man in his full height, intimidating despite his
slender build, and sheathed his sword, the blade glowing blue at his touch
before placing the papers back into the black folder and holding it under his
arm. Daniel rose as well, almost
just as tall, with a broader chest and squared shoulders, putting his own sword
away. “We bid you farewell,
Archbishop Saltarelli. Please
inform the Vatican that it has begun and we will contact them routinely with
updates. Peace be with you.”
Then he bent down
and picked up a black backpack Daniel had not noticed sitting beside his chair
until then and turned around.
Daniel looked down at the Archbishop, grinned and winked, before turning
on his heel and following after.
“And to you,”
Archbishop Saltarelli whispered as the two angels left the room, which became
suddenly darker and colder without their presence.
Once Daniel and
Gabriel were alone, walking side by side down the middle aisle of the nave of
the church, Gabriel handed the backpack to Daniel. The stained-glass windows cast rainbow colors across the
dark wood of the pews, empty on this Friday morning.
“The Vatican would
have you turn Adrianna to ashes and be done with her,” Gabriel said, his voice
low. “But with her being part
human, we’re not willing to be so cavalier. We want you to read her the Rites when you kill her.”
“Wait,” Daniel
said, stopping. “You don’t think
she could have a soul, do you?”
“We don’t
know. The church, its followers,”
he said, sweeping his hand out in front of him, “they see everything in black
and white. We know it’s not that
way. If she has a beating heart,
she may have a soul. And if
there’s a chance for a soul, we will save it.”
“Alright,” Daniel
said. Gabriel began walking again
with Daniel following.
“Everything you
need is in that backpack,” Gabriel said, nodding to it. “Wallet, ID’s, plane
ticket, a credit card with no limit—but don’t go crazy. There’s a cell phone—”
“Cell phone?”
Daniel asked. Angels didn’t need
cell phones. They could just
appear to one another, or Gabriel could contact him by simply thinking it and
Daniel would hear his words as if they were his own thoughts.
“To appear more
authentic,” Gabriel grinned.
“Sister Mary Stephena is already in Arkadelphia, getting settled. That phone…it’s something called a
Black Berry…it’s like an organizer and holds addresses and appointments and
such.”
Daniel grinned at
Gabriel’s assumption that all angels shared his limited knowledge of
technology.
“Her address is in
there,” Gabriel continued. “She’ll
have weapons, should you need any.
Which brings me to the last order of our business…” Gabriel hesitated as
they stood outside on the top of the church’s stairs, under the overhang with
the rain still coming down in sheets.
A yellow taxi cab waited idling at the curb of the street. “To avoid any recurrence of Greece, you
are to be stripped of some of your powers.”
“What?” Daniel
cried, clutching the backpack in one suddenly trembling fist.
“I am sorry, but
the Dominions feel its best this way.
They also don’t want to risk your exposure with any involuntary acts of
the divine.”
“Some? Which ones?”
“Your sword.”
Daniel looked down
where his sword should be hanging, but it had disappeared and his body suddenly
felt off balance for it.
“You’ll still have
your wings, but you can’t fly and you can’t materialize.”
Daniel made his
wings appear and stretched them out to their full glory, wanting them to feel
like they were more than just accessories now.
“You also won’t
have the power of fire or ice or wind, or the gift of song.”
“You wanna take
all the box cutters away from me too?” Daniel asked, shrugging the backpack on.
“I know you feel
like you’re being punished, but you wouldn’t have been chosen for this task if
we all didn’t think you could do it.”
“Uh-huh,” Daniel
grumbled.
“You still have
the blood of the Divine coursing through your body,” Gabriel continued
patiently, ignoring Daniel’s pouts.
“You’re still fast and strong and you have your influence and your
connection to man. But Daniel,
please remember. You are an Elim,
but you can still be killed.
Please be careful.”
It was very
difficult to kill an angel, but not impossible. You could keep them in darkness until they withered away to
nothing. You could remove their
wings, making them mortal. Daniel
knew what happened to those angels who died. Some became Cherubim, depending on how or why they
died. Others became part of the
Fallen, again, depending on how or why they died.
“Then make me an
Archangel,” Daniel said through clenched teeth. Archangels couldn’t be killed. “You know I’m more than capable.”
“Michael
has told you time and again, that decision is not ours to make. Only He can decide.”
“Then
say something to Him!” Daniel pled.
“You talk to Him on a daily basis.
You’re probably talking to Him right now!”
“Honestly,” Gabriel
said, letting his impatience place an edge on his words. “Michael doesn’t feel you’re ready, and
I would have to agree.”
“What?”
“You’re too
impetuous. You allow your emotions
to guide your actions. That would
remind Him of someone else and once
He made the decision to not make you an Archangel, He wouldn’t undo it. So until you can control yourself,
until you can do exactly what you are told and not stray from orders, then
neither Michael nor I will recommend you.
And Greece is a perfect example of why you are not ready.”
“They
were in league with the demons!” Daniel protested, though knowing his efforts
were pointless. This was also one
of his weaknesses—he never gave up.
“They were still
humans!” Gabriel hit his breaking
point. His wings extended full and
brilliant, gleaming bright gold with red flames licking around the edges. His hair blew in the rush of wind that
suddenly kicked up and his eyes turned completely black. Daniel cringed slightly, but still
stood his ground. “Those who you are
sworn to protect. Those who you
were created to protect. It is not your place to judge!”
And then just as
suddenly as he had whipped up into full angel glory, Gabriel became his calm
self again, his wings disappearing and his eyes brown once more. He handed Daniel the black folder.
“Your class
schedule and dorm assignment are in here.”
“Dorm
assignment?!” Daniel exclaimed, forgetting how angry he had just made the
Archangel who could blow once on his Horn and send all of mankind to
Judgment. Gabriel actually winced
with remorse.
“Authenticity. Sorry.”
Daniel
sighed. “Anything else?”
“Uh,
yeah. You’ll be a junior. Stephena should have already picked up
your text books—yes, you do have to go class. No protests, it’ll be good for you. One of your classes is New Testament,
you should excel at that—you better excel at that. That cab will take you to the airport. There will be another one waiting for
you there. It’s an hour drive from
Little Rock to Arkadelphia.
There’s cash in the wallet for the taxi and other incidentals. Um....another thing." The
Archangel actually looked uncomfortable. "With your lack of powers, you’ll
find yourself more tempted by the flesh and material of the humans. Try not to do anything that’s
forbidden.”
“How
will I know what’s forbidden?”
“If it’s something
you think you’ll enjoy, it’s most likely forbidden.”
“Great,” Daniel
mumbled.
“Alright, so I
think that’s about everything. Oh,
uh…you’ll also have a job—work study at the library. Your roommate’s name is Mark. He’s a Theology major and a preacher’s son. Should be great! Well, good luck and peace be with you.”
Gabriel
disappeared before Daniel could voice any more protests, leaving him alone on
the church steps with only his backpack, a waiting cab, and a mission from a
heavenly Order that could either make him an Archangel if he succeeded, or toss
him wingless and headlong down into hell should he fail.
Chapter Two
Adrianna
tapped her pen and checked her wristwatch for the fifteenth time in the last fifty-two
minutes. She had also counted the
beats of twenty-four hearts, the breaths of twenty-four sets of lungs, the
steps of seventy-six sets of feet passing by outside in the hall and the uses
of the word “Okay” by her Western Thought and Culture professor—which was one
hundred and sixty-four.
None
of this made the sound of the blood rushing through the human veins any less
tempting. It was like the gush of
a roaring river to a man who spent a week walking through a desiccated desert
and she tried to swallow against her dry throat, sighing as her tongue stuck to
the roof of her mouth.
She might be acting a little
overdramatic. She was known for
the occasional grand reaction. But
she had only been away from home for two months and had already blown through
her bagged blood stash. Distracted
from not feeding from a live person, she was ill prepared for the
shortage. She placed the order the
day she finished off the last bag.
It would only take three days for the next shipment to arrive but that was
yesterday and she was hungry today.
She
reached down into her book bag without taking her eyes off the professor and
pulled out her compact. She opened
it and looked at herself in the mirror.
The image was a misty, transparent reflection, more like a ghost than a
girl, but she could still see the circles under her eyes darkening and her lips
turning purple. The irises of her
eyes were also fading to a pale green instead of their normal hazel. She was becoming the demon.
Not
that she minded. She quite
relished it really—the feeling of letting go, of letting the animal inside her
take over. She craved the
adrenaline rush from running down a prey, the smell of fear on its skin, her
fangs breaking the flesh and then the warmth of its blood flooding into her
mouth. Just thinking of it made
her fangs descend suddenly, cutting into the inside of her bottom lip.
She sucked down
the blood and put away her compact, forcing her thoughts elsewhere.
She was only
eighteen years-old; a neophyte, a baby.
She was still learning control.
How much longer could she be expected to live among the humans and not
feed on any of them?
Nicolae had told
her that her father wanted her in school.
Had demanded it, setting strict instructions for her future before he
Slumbered, and there were to be no transgressions or indiscretions. And there was no arguing with or
displeasing her father. The forty
years left of his Slumber would pass by in a blink and his rage, should she
disobey him, would be acute. The
little time she was able to spend with him before he entered his hibernation,
he never gave the impression he was a vampire of compassion. He certainly didn’t understand the
meaning of forgiveness. He had
more wives then she had shoes—and she had a lot of shoes—all dying at his hand
when he tired of them. If she
disobeyed a direct order, it would be a stake through her heart for sure.
She would just
have to control her hunger.
The professor
finally released the class and Adrianna gathered up her books and bag, deliberately
slow, to not stand out. It was
constant work to look human.
Yet she did stand
out. Her hair was long and thick
and shined in the light, always
looking like she had just stepped
out of the salon. Her eyelashes
were long and she knew how to use them combined with her eyes to lure and
seduce. Her pale skin was
flawless. She was graceful and
confident and strong. And unlike
the rest of her kind, she could stand out in the sun and not turn to burning
ash.
Somehow here,
though, she wasn’t feared and avoided like she was around any other gathering
of humans, the few times she was allowed to be around humans for something
other than feeding. These humans
were naïve. They didn’t believe in
vampires and therefore completely denied their existence. What she was wasn’t even a possibility
to them. And as long as she kept
her fangs hidden, she was safe.
That night, she
sat in front of her computer monitor in her dorm room in the Mary Mason
building. It was the nicest girls’
dorm on campus with two students to a small apartment, each with their own
room, personal bathroom, and a shared living room and kitchen.
In this school,
the girls did not share dorm buildings with the boys. They weren’t even allowed past the lobby of each other’s
dorms. Coming from her underworld
of bloodbath orgies and encouraged sexcapades, this place was a veritable
nunnery.
Adrianna chuckled
at the thought of her being in a nunnery.
She couldn’t even step foot on the lawn of any holy place. She couldn’t even speak the word holy,
or God, or heaven. Think it yes,
but speak it no. Any attempt was
like choking. Which was going to
make taking the required New and Old Testament courses difficult, but those
classes were also held in the college’s chapel, which made her attendance out
of the question anyway. She would
have to hold off and hope her father allowed her to come back home or she would
end up a professional college student.
Adrianna looked
down from her computer screen and pressed her palms into her eyes. The light from the screen was too
bright and burned. Too much light
took its toll on her eyes and being outside all day, combined with the
artificial digital light before her now, was too much to take. Her roommate was also talking very
loudly, planted on the sofa in their living room; her thick Arkansan accent
penetrating through Adrianna’s closed door and raking her nerves. She had to get out of there. She could do her research just as
easily from the library and that way she wouldn’t be tempted to use her roommate
to quench her thirst.
It was a short
walk to the large brick building, even at human speed. She climbed the stone steps and pulled
open the glass doors, the warm air inside hitting her hard after being outside
in the cool night.
She wandered up
and down the aisles, up and down the different floors, searching for the book
on Mayans she needed for her paper.
She found where it should be, but it wasn’t there. Sighing, she walked back down to the
main floor, toward the help desk tucked in between several shelves of books on
the left and stopped a few feet from it.
The guy sitting
behind the counter had no business being there.
He leaned back in
his chair with his legs propped up on the desk. His wavy blonde hair shimmered in the light, messy and falling
in his face. His gray t-shirt
strained and stretched against his broad chest and shoulder muscles and he had
it raised up on his torso, mindlessly scratching his toned, golden abs, while
he held up a piece of paper, studying it with a frown.
He should be
sculpted in marble by an Italian artist, Adrianna thought, or tied up in my
playroom, feeding me bottles of blood.
Again she felt her fangs pierce her lip, bringing her back from her
deviating thoughts.
Control, she told herself. Don’t get involved with any of them—it
will only lead to complications.
She took in a deep
breath and held it. She could hold
it for the rest of the day, if it was necessary and judging by how good he
smelled when she inhaled, she may have to.
Daniel was
frustrated. He had been in school
for two weeks and still couldn’t find Adrianna. He had studied her mother’s picture everyday, just as he
studied it now. No one fit the
bill. He couldn’t track her down
and he grew more impatient every day.
To make the situation worse, the daily diatribes of his fake human life
were driving him insane.
Mark, his
roommate, was annoying. He felt
the need to Witness to him every chance he got and on more than one occasion,
he tried to “save” him. He also
snored very loudly, ate cereal just before bed, and his friends were disturbing
at best.
Stephena lived up
to her reputation as a nun, requiring Daniel to attend Mass on Wednesday and
Sunday at the only Catholic church in town and eat dinner with her every Sunday
night.
Not for the last
time did he think on his last conversation with Gabriel. About his need for control. About his mistake in Greece.
He had lost his
temper then. He was to take out
the demons and leave the humans, allow the Creator to judge them when death came
for them in due time. But these
humans had long lost their humanity.
They did the bidding of the demons. They had free will and they chose the darkness. He had compassion for humans. He cared deeply for mankind. That was why he had spent centuries
protecting them. One little slip
in judgment should not keep him from his rightful place.
“Hello,” a soft,
female voice purred. “I need
help.”
Daniel lowered the
photo and looked up, stopping instantly with his mouth falling open.
He couldn’t decide
which feature he loved more—her big, bright green eyes with flecks of
reddish-brown around the irises, her Mona Lisa smile, or the little crease in
her milky white brow as she looked at him with confused amusement.
“You’re
beautiful,” Daniel whispered, unthinking and unblinking.
Her smile turned
to a grin.
She had a dimple,
too! Daniel suppressed a groan.
“Uh, thanks,” she
said. “I need to find a book,
though. Do you know where The Mayan Code is? It’s not where it should be.”
“Hmm,” he said,
standing up and placing the paper he had been studying on the desk. He looked down at her with a bright
smile and she thought he might be what Heaven looked like.
He’s tall, too,
Adrianna thought. Definitely a
plus.
“Let’s see what I
can do to you—I mean, for you,” he said, blushing as he walked around the
counter. Adrianna fought a
smile. She was used to
come-ons. She attracted both human
genders, and normally this would have no affect on her, but coming from him,
she actually felt her stomach tighten.
Daniel placed a
hand on Adrianna’s back, leading her upstairs. “Sometimes people put books back based on a phonetic
alphabet, rather than by the actual letter. Or they file based on the word ‘the’.”
He walked to the
second row and looked on one of the shelves, pulling out a book. “And here it is.”
He looked at the
cover and grinned. “I’m surprised
this hasn’t been tossed on a burning pile of unacceptable books. These Baptists don’t seem to be fans of
anything that contradicts their spiritual accounts of religious history.”
“You’re not a
Baptist?” Adrianna asked and then noticed the crucifix he wore on a thin,
silver chain around his neck. She
inched away from him slightly.
“No,” he said,
seemingly unaware of her shrinking from him. “You?”
Her smile spread
like carefully drawn curtains and she shook her head slowly.
“No.”
“We’re a minority
then,” he whispered, leaning in.
She could smell him again: a liberating scent of the woods and flying,
mixed with the musk of sandalwood and honey and her head began to swim.
“They haven’t
tried saving you with that around your neck?” she asked, nodding at his
necklace but watching it as though it was a coiled snake.
“Every day,
actually,” Daniel chuckled and put an arm out, leaning against the shelf and
folding the book in his elbow with the other arm. “If they’re not trying to save me, they’re telling me I’m
going to hell.”
“Hell may not be
so bad,” she smiled. “Compared to
an eternity with Baptists. Though
I hear it’s pretty hot there.”
They stood a
moment in silence, held in each other’s gaze, both sensing something different
about the other. Daniel felt the
mortal urges calling to him and decided it best to break the silence.
“Well, here you
go.” He reached out with the
book.
Adrianna looked at
his veins protruding from his arm muscles, the blood pulsing strongly
within. She wondered how easy it
would be to drink him here. Would
anyone notice with them removed from the most trafficked parts of the
library?
But then an odd
feeling stirred within her.
Nothing she had ever felt before and the thought of drinking from him
made her nervous, scared. She
didn’t fear frightening him, she feared…disappointing him.
“Thank you,” she
said, taking the book.
“You’re
welcome. I’m Daniel,” he said,
stretching his hand out.
She hesitated a
moment, surreptitiously rubbing her hand on her thigh in an attempt to make if
feel less cold before taking his hand.
“I’m Adrianna. Adrianna
Tepes.”
She saw the
faintest flinch in his eyes. Yes,
her hand is cold, she thought. If
not a tell-tale sign, then definitely a red flag. But he recovered quickly and smiled again.
Green eyes, not
blue, Daniel thought. Dark brown
hair, not light brown. No real
resemblance to the mother, she must take after her father…Vlad Tepes.
Vald
Draculea.
Dracula.
This was the daughter of the
Dragon? She had the face of an
angel. Her smile was like the
sunrise. Her eyes as deep as the most
magical forest. But her hand was
cold. Deathly cold. She was not just a child of the night;
she was the child of the night.
“Daniel,” she said
repeating his name and he felt his heart flutter at the sound. “Your name is Hebrew for judged by…,” she stopped with her mouth
still open, blinking and unable to continue, as if someone stole the word from
her tongue.
“God,” Daniel
said, finishing for her.
She can’t say the
word, he thought. She can’t say
the Creator’s name. She is a
demon. There is no soul to save. The thought made him sad, which also
made him confused.
He noticed the
dark circles under her eyes and he wanted to reach out and brush the thin, pale
skin with his fingertips. She
hasn’t been feeding, he thought.
He wondered why.
All Adrianna could
hear now was the pounding of his heart and the rush of his blood. She wondered if he would taste as good
as he smelled; if she would be able to control herself from draining him. For the third time today, her fangs
descended and she threw up a hand to cover her mouth.
“I have to go,”
she mumbled behind her hand, turning around. “Thanks for the help.”
And at almost too
fast of a speed, she rushed out of the library, ditching her books and bags in
the bushes and transforming, taking a new shape. Not in the form of a bat—that’s too clichéd—but as a hawk.
Beating her wings
and rising high into the night sky, she circled and soared south, in search of
release for the rush of emotions making her head swim and her heart pound, in
search of prey. The wind picked up
with a gust and she smelled it—life.
Human life. Human
blood.
She shrieked once
before diving into the shadows below.
