Chapter Seven -- Heart Burn
“And Caine said to them, ‘. . . Love is the gift of life. Remember ye not Auriel’s Curse? That we are to eat only ashes, drink only blood? Blood is not sweet rain. Our drink takes life.’”
The Book Of Nod, The Chronicle Of Secrets, Of Love
Three nights since Ares’ call. Three nights that Xena had had to lose herself in the vitae of Gabrielle.
Three nights to decide whether or not it was love she felt in her still heart. She would pace around the main room while Gabrielle was either at work or sleeping off another intense session of feeding. As Gabrielle would kneel, happily drawing blood from her mistress’ wrist, Xena would picture her being Embraced. At first, it was always her doing it, either gently with the promise of immortality or by force as she was taken by the dark figure on the lonely fields of Amphipolis. She was nervous about the idea of Gabrielle one night sneaking into her chambers to commit the evil crime of diablerie -- the drinking of an elder Kindred’s blood. She tried to see herself raising her arms to stop her childer, but all she saw were her arms raised in an erotic anticipation of living forever in the veins of her beloved songstress.
When she played out the scenario with the others in the city, her fury was unquenchable. Aphrodite’s club burned brightly in the night, with either her or her lap dog Cupid staked to the stage as the flames ignited their paralyzed bodies. Ares would see the sun one final time, tied to a tree with chains thick enough to hold him down. No one was safe from her vengeful hand -- not even the Prince or those she bothered to call allies.
If it’s not love, then it’s an unhealthy obsession. Maybe I’m not a Brujah. Maybe I’m a Malkavian who thinks she’s a Brujah, she smiled at the idea of being one of the insane Kindred and briefly wondered if they made restraining coats in black. She slowed the car down as she approached the stop light.
Tonight was quiet, even in Ares’ little slice of the city. She watched the streets carefully. Some strings were pulled and Xena got the police report regarding her ‘stolen’ car. Many bullet holes -- possibly some gangs using it as cover in one of the more intense turf wars. No body. Callisto apparently survived the shots fired. Even for a ghoul, she was proving to be hard to kill. Callisto would come back. When she did, they would say their peace and exchange rounds, then escape one way or another. The cycle would begin again -- the ultimate in dysfunctional relationship dynamics. Xena shrugged her shoulders to ease away the tension. Callisto wasn’t going to do anything of the sort. Ghoul, schmoul -- she’s still a mortal. The best way to defeat her is out-live her, she reminded herself as she rolled her car forward, turning down the street absently.
Before she was conscious of it, she found herself parked in front of Bacchus’ club. Before she met Gabrielle, she was a regular patron, another subtle influence the tiny woman had over her. Now, she only came here when the Beast could only be appeased one way. She didn’t need it tonight. Her appetite was now to a level where she was comfortable with gaps in the sort of violent feeding that brought her a peverse jouy. The Beast was kindly locked away for the time being. Xena revved her engine once, then pulled away. Bacchus would have to give her blood doll away to someone else tonight.
She pulled into a free parking space across the street from the Cyprus Club. Checking to make sure her guns were hidden elsewhere, she closed her door with a thunk. She walked confidently across the street. At two o’clock in the morning, most people were safely in bed, unaware of the life that claimed the sidewalks.
“She’s not here, went home for guitar strings,” Cupid grumbed from behind the coat check counter
Xena studied the young man carefully, “This is burning you alive, isn’t it.”
Cupid shrugged diffidently, “She’s only a mortal. There’ll be others. I’m counting on your temper to do my work for me.”
“One of these days, I should take the time to teach you the virtue of silence and common sense.”, Xena turned to walk out, then she paused, “I’m counting on your stupidity to do my work for me.”
She heard Aphrodite chuckle from across the bar as she swung the door open. The night was cool and quiet, a rarity for her until she met Gabrielle. Her mind gleefully went back to her lover. The nights when they were together -- blood was no substitution for sleep -- they would talk, kiss and ask like any other normal couple. Gabrielle would hint around the craving she felt for the blood. Xena would waver from either being the gentle doting lover -- serving a cup of vitae to her as a waiter to a customer; or she would be the cruel and domineering master -- dolling out precious blood to an unworthy slave.
Her car lurched onto the main drag. She watched the patrons stagger out of a club, holding each other up and giggling. The club was three blocks away from a park -- bordering between Aphrodite’s and Artemis’ realms. She ventured her car another two blocks than turned right, skirting the park. A left turn would put her in more danger than she could handle. The Amazons held little love to the Brujah and even less for Xena. Her younger days in the city were spend expanding Ares’ domains into some of the now-seedier park areas, places now know for roving marauders.
“Not tonight, ladies.” She said to a pair of shadows silently flitting from tree to tree. As long as she was on the street, she couldn’t be hurt under the treaties suspending Gangrel and Brujah conflicts.
But, as Ares was quick to point out, no blood meant no foul.
Xena turned right again, waving to whomever was watching her. Anything she could do to make sure the hostility remained mutual, she did so gladly. Years ago, she would have tossed a Molotov cocktail just for giggles, then sped away before anyone but the charred bodies were the wiser. Now, just a wave and the screech of her tires were sufficient.
Love, if it was what she had, seemed to dull the edge of her blade.
X&G
Gabrielle absently braided her hair, those strings she bought weren’t in her case and they weren’t on kitchen table. She frowned as she gave her hair an experimental twist. The strings were a gift from Xena -- gold wrapped and expensive.
She lifted up sheet music that she’d been scribbling on for hours. If she lost those strings, how was she going to tell Xena?
How is she going to take it? Will she stop giving me blood?, her heart shrank at the idea, then she shook her head, Get a grip. Xena isn’t going to do any sort of thing just because I lost those strings.
She sat down on the couch with a huff. It had been weeks since she had been back in her own apartment. She had practically moved in with Xena, coming from her job at the club straight to her lover’s house. While Xena was dormant throughout the day, Gabrielle had been busying herself with making the place more ‘mortal friendly’, as she put it. The refrigerator was filled now with food, as was the pantry. The guest room was transformed into her own private room. One of the parlors now served as a studio, with Xena dipping into her vast accounts to have it re-furnished and rebuilt to suit her needs. She bought new clothes and a new guitar to replace the one that was shot up several nights ago.
Her mind went back to that moment. She could remember looking into Xena’s eyes. Flat, shark-like -- they were pools of crystal blue death. No pity, no emotion save hate that only an immortal heart could tap. When she held the gun up, Gabrielle was sure that either the woman holding her tightly and talking nonsense was going to die. Or Gabrielle, herself would have been shot just to deny the woman a bargaining chip.
She had seen those eyes before.
When Xena fed from her, her eyes would become flat and pitiless. She would tell Gabrielle about the Beast -- the relentless drive to feed and kill -- and Gabrielle would privately wonder if she would look up to see the Beast coming for her. Unrelentingly, impassive and implacable -- she would die in her lover’s arms.
Not something covered in the lover’s handbook.
“Where are you, my pretty little strings?” She asked no one in particular. There was a knock on the door. Gabrielle stood up and stepped into her slippers. The knock was repeated, this time it was more insistent. She muttered that she was coming, then thoughtlessly tripped over a chair that had become a coat rack. A pack of guitar strings fell out of a coat pocket. “Ahh, there you are, my dears. Tonight, I will string you -- yes, I heard you and I’m coming!”, Gabrielle opened the door wide, “Yes?”
The woman was pale -- Xena’s pale. Her hair was a large mane of night. Leather and zinc studs were the only two components to her wardrobe. Gabrielle’s first impression was: metal chick. She had seen her fair share when she was working the various bands in the city. Her lipstick was blood red and contrasted her large, white blocky teeth.
“You Gabrielle Connor?” She asked.
“Yes, and you are?” A sense of uneasiness crept over her. She wished that Xena was here to help.
“No one.”
Gabrielle heard a car backfire in the street behind her. A vague push to her abdomen and something hot trickling down her belly. Touching it, she brought wet fingertips up to her eyes, they were covered with blood.
Her blood.
X&G
Xena walked out of the store, taking the candy bar and juice out of the bag. She looked at them before gently tossing into her car. She had forgotten what chocolate tasted like. Turning over the engine of her car, she briefly considered eating the bar and buying another one at another store.
Of course, she would have a violent and agonizing pains for hours. The digestive system of the Kindred was suited for only one thing: blood. There were those rare individuals among them that could eat food and drink as a mortal. They would gain no nourishment, but for a society of wolves that prided on blending in among the sheep, an advantage to be gained was a good one. “Sweets for the sweet.”, she muttered as she backed out carefully.
Her cell phone rang. Xena fished it out of her jacket pocket and flipped it open with a single hand, “What?”
“X. . . Xena. . . hel. . . he. . .lp. . .” It was Gabrielle’s voice, faint and slurred.
“Gabrielle? What is it?” Panic clutched her. She was rarely one for practical jokes.
“Sh. . . Oh, God. . . blee--” The phone went dead.
Throwing the gear stick into drive, she stomped on the gas until it was the point of bursting through the floorboard. The car screamed and smoke billowed from the tires as she roared into the night. Celerity and fear guided her hands, weaving in and out of the last vestiges of the party crowd. Her mind was easily outstripping the pace of the car.
Who? Who?! Who would do this? Can’t be Cupid or Aphrodite, Cupid’s too much of a pretty boy and Aphrodite genuinely likes Gabrielle. Bacchus wouldn’t do this -- there’s no reason. Who?
Then the dark eyes floated to her vision.
She gripped the steering wheel with a steely grip, she spun the car around to the right and went through the gate leading to Blythe Park. Joggers looked behind them once, then scattered out of the way. She knew the Amazons would be coming out soon. Let them come, I’ll run them down without a second thought. If they try to stop me and Gabrielle dies, she wiped away a single blood-tear, I will wipe the Gangrel from the city one by one, including Artemis. The gates were ahead. The speedometer had stopped registering miles back. Gabrielle was on the other side of town, but the distance was eaten up quickly, thanks to a favor from Hesphaetus. Another three minutes and she would be in sight of Gabrielle’s apartment.
Three minutes, ten minutes or ten years, she grimaced as she took a shuddering turn around a corner and a moving car, doesn’t matter! I’m going to be too late! Please, Gabrielle, hold on to life. Hold on, for the sake of my heart. . .
Finally slowing down, Xena turned the car off and leaped out. Her long legs propelling her to the front door. It was opening slowly. Someone was about to be bowled over and nearly trampled.
Discord stepped out with her trademark cat-that-swallowed-the-canary grin.
Everything now was confirmed. Discord was as good as dead all over again.
Letting her fury command her, Xena let her claws lengthen as she punched her hand out. She felt the soft flesh in Discord’s belly give way. Discord screeched once as Xena flung her behind. She bounced once, then rolled to a kneeling position. Before she could get to a proper stance, something strong and dull broke her ribs. She flipped in the air before landing on her back. Blood healed the ribs and took the edge of the pain. Xena’s grimacing face floated into view as she raised her foot and slammed it down on her chest. She felt her breast bone cracking.
Her eyes opened wide as Xena plopped herself on top of her. She raised her hand above over her head, her talons black in the pale moonlight.
“Either. . . save. . . your. . . blood. . . bitch or kill. . . me. . .heh-heh” Discord smiled, bringing up blood.
Xena’s blood roared in her ears. She wanted to split Discord’s throat and leave her for the sun. The Beast clamored and strained for release. It made promises that she knew it would never keep. Discord needed to be punished. Ares needed to be punished. Xena needed to be punished. She took something that was not for this world and she signed her death warrant by her very presence. But not today. Xena stood up and ran for the door. Discord was going to have to wait, but it wasn’t over with her. Hopping three steps at a time, she made it to her door. It was still hanging open. The scent of blood hit her like a sledgehammer, making the Beast howl in delight. She looked around, “GABRIELLE?!”
She was sprawled by her phone, face down. The trail of blood was wide and deep red. Xena skittered around and carefully turned her over. Her skin was pale and cold. Green eyes fluttered awake as she gave a vermilion smile.
“Xena. . . you’re here. . .” She said weakly, reaching up to cup her face with a bloody hand.
“Yes, yes I’m here. We have to call an ambulance for you. You’re dying and you’ve lost too much blood for me to replace,” her eyes dripped tears, “You’ve got to hold on. Please. . . hold on for me,” she reached for the phone and dialed 911.
“I’m thirsty. Xena. . . can you. . .”, then her head lolled back limply.
Xena’s mouth opened, but no sound save a shuddering gasp was made.
One thought came to her mind.
Her teeth grew sharp and long.
Forgive me, Gabrielle, as she sliced through the skin.
Her blood tasted of ashes.