AUTHOR: 1stRab-id, Rabid, Raeann(I go by many names…none of them MINE in RL).
FEEDBACK: Rabid1st@yahoo.com or RabidRaeann@hotmail.com
BETAS: We are down to Mary, Nauti, and Caia
SUBJECT: B/S (primarily) but also B/A, B/R, S/D, S/H
RATED: Demonic R…at least I think so…though you may find it more of an NC-17.
WARNING: This story contains a number of perverse scenes of sex and/or violence, they are written NOT to stimulate but to horrify and to illuminate Spike's demonic nature.
SPOILERS: The entire show as it airs is fair game…but mostly this is Season Two through Five…see next entry for explanation…
SUMMARY: This was a challenge from a
co-worker…basically, that I write the back-story for Buffy and Spike love. Backing up what we saw on screen with Spike's
thoughts. This story is a retrospective
of Spike's falling in love. We begin our
story just after Crush and then again…we begin in
DISCLAIMER: Please forgive me for I know not what I do…legally anyway…but I do know that these characters and situations are not mine and belong rightfully to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, Fox TV, WB and UPN. I would be honored to have any of the above write me a note to cease and desist my creative blundering because I really only do this for attention.
TAKE A PEEK AT PRAGUE AFTER DARK
PART FIVE
Once he caught my eye, the lad waved a hand. As I started for him, he scampered into the shelter of an overhang. My head cleared up like magic. I was sure the boy had my duster in his arms and the last time I saw the thing it was draped around Dru’s shoulders. Lydie and I raced one another to the bar’s low patio fence. She went through the gate but I vaulted the low wrought iron barrier. Dancing through traffic, we crossed to where Lojza was waiting. I check for observers before ducking into stone arch and blending with the darker shadows. Thing Two was still on guard in his third floor hideaway.
Lojza didn’t look well. He was pressed against the wall of the building, shaking and gasping. His mother would have cooed over him but I shoved her aside.
“Where the hell have you been?” I asked, opening the conversation.
"There was a man," Lojza said. "On the roof. He was waiting. I think…for you."
"Was?"
His bright eyes met mine with some pride as he said, “I killed him.”
I snatched my duster from his arms with one hand and used the other to clump him on the side of the head. My blow sent him skidding along the wall. He bounced off a relief of a cherub and sat down in a heap. I sighed at the sorry spectacle. Sometimes you have to be rough on the newly sired or they get above themselves. Last thing anyone needs in a family unit is a rebellious teenager.
"I said no killing," I reminded him with overt patience.
"I had to," he moaned, one hand drifting up to cradle his aching jaw. He’d started quaking again, terrified. Flattering as it was, somehow, I didn't think I was the cause of his fear. The short hairs pricked on the back of my neck. I twisted around to check the street. There was nothing untoward happening but the boy was beginning to make me nervous.
"This man," I remarked, absently, as I surreptitiously set my back to the stone wall of the building, alert for any sign of trouble. "What was he doing before you killed him?"
"He was guarding that," Lojaz answered, pointing the duster, hanging limp in my arms. "It was folded up on the roof top, right in plain sight. Just beyond the stairway doors? Near the middle?” I nodded my understanding of the described location so he would get on with the story. “The man was hiding behind the skylight, watching. Like I said, I think he was expecting you. I thought it might be a trap or a sign or something. So, I killed the man and brought the coat back with me."
I narrowed my eyes at the boy but he didn’t react. He seemed to have reached the end of his tale. Shaking the duster out, I held it up for examination. It looked the same as ever. The lighting was dim in our hide-away but I could see well enough. The black leather was scuffed and a button was missing. There was blood on the lining. I shot the boy another quizzical look.
"Did you try it on, then?" I asked, keeping my voice light and smooth.
He gaped at me, amazed by my perceptiveness, no doubt, and slowly nodded his head.
“And?”
"It hurt."
"How do you mean, hurt?"
"On my skin. In my head. There was a noise, screaming, like…cats mating in the street. And then I felt something. It was like a—a shock. The hair on my arms stood on end and the coat, it clawed into me. It held onto my skin. At first, I couldn’t take it off and I think maybe I was screaming, too. I know I tried to wiggle out of it because it hurt so much…but there was a voice. It put foreign words in my head. A man spoke and it was like,” he paused thinking about the experience and trying to convey it for me. “It was like he wanted me to keep on listening. I couldn’t understand his words but I knew that’s what he wanted."
I thrust the duster at him. "Let me see." He started to shrink away but I grabbed him by one arm, twisting it up as I growled. "I said, put it on."
“No, I don’t want to…I,” the boy yelped, flailing at me in an effort to escape.
Shaking him to stop his squirming, I started to drape the duster over his thin shoulders.
His mother stepped forward baring her fangs at me.
“Let him go,” she ordered.
Before I could discipline her, Gizela appeared. She clumped down the slight incline in her high-heeled sandals with all the grace of a stevedore. There was no evidence of the elegant lady I had dressed her up as earlier in the evening. Guess doing the ladybird put her in mind of her butch side. Her stride was long and purposeful. Bristling like a dog defending a well-loved master, she grabbed Lydie from behind, locking her elbows together. She pulled the other woman’s arms up and back until Lydie’s shoulders cracked. I didn’t need the help but loyalty is always a useful commodity.
“Enjoy your snack, pet?” I asked, Gizela conversationally.
“She was sweet.”
“Looked a mite tough to me but you can’t always judge.”
As I spoke, I thrust Lojza back into the wall with enough force to chip the cherub’s wing. Then, balling up a fist, I punched his mother in the stomach for her bloody backchat. One thing I can’t stand is a ruddy minion getting above herself. The brutal blow buckled Lydie’s knees and Gizela let her fall to the ground. I stepped over the prostrate body, grabbed a handful of Gizela’s hair and kissed her like she meant something to me.
Staggering in the throes of passion, we slammed into the nearest pillar. We both groped around for a minute to show our mutual appreciation. Gizela liked to take charge. She squirmed against my leg and clawed at my back. I slipped my tongue between her lips, sampling the flavor of her kill.
When I’d had my fill of the chit, I released her and stepped away. Body language conveyed my approval but I added a little tongue to teeth grin.
“Mmmm, tasty,” I said.
Gizela’s nipples strained against the silk of her dress. She swayed toward me and I noticed she was panting, always a good sign in a vampire. Taking advantage of her receptive mood, I held the duster up in front of her glassy eyes.
“You wear it,” I ordered.
Her hands shook but she didn't question my command. She took the coat from me and shrugged into it in one smooth motion. Electrical current sparked in the air. There was a sharp crackling and the tang of ozone in my nostrils. Gizela collapsed, folding up like a deck chair. Then, with no warning at all, she started screeching loud enough to wake the dead. Her arms and legs twitched. Flecks of foam edged her lips. Her eyes rolled back in her head until nothing showed but white under the flicker of her lids. And all the time she kept up a high pitched wailing. Her howling attracted loads more attention than our brief family fracas. People in the street stopped to peer into the dimly lit corner where we were gathered.
"Epilepsy," I called to the nearest onlooker as I dropped to one knee beside my afflicted companion. The crowd muttered and moved closer. I shot them an imploring look. "Please…just…give us a moment."
A few of the gits took the hint and walked on but a good number continued to rubberneck. Hastily, I tried to peel the duster off Gizela's shuddering body.
As soon as my hands touched leather, a series of scorpion-like stings shot up my arms and an echo of the spell struck me. I endured the agony of holy water emersion. I could see Drusilla clearly in my mind’s eye but she bore no resemblance to the beauty I had held in my arms just two nights before. She was an animated horror, balding and gruesome, as she flailed in the vat of blessed water. Huge chunks of her flesh peeled away from the bone and floated free.
As her skin cracked I could see the manacles that held her were bolted to her wrists, drilled straight though the bone. She melted away but the restraints remained secure. In despair, I watched her thrashing grow weaker and finally stop. I thought her dead. There was a moment’s peace and then her chains pulled taut. The chains were attached to a great wheel. As the wheel turned it dragged Dru up and out of the water.
The turning gears stretched her arms wide, drawing her out to the breaking point. She hung in cruciform. An accelerated healing, far quicker than anything natural to my kind, started repairing the damage to her body as soon as she cleared the water. In seconds, her flesh knitted up and her skin returned to flawless alabaster. Her hair grew in, black and think. Her eyes opened, staring and wild. When her throat was whole again, she started screaming. The horrid sound beat on the inside of my eardrums.
The demon in my chest sought expression. It filled my mind, raging against my more civilized veneer. With a great deal of effort, I managed to maintain a grip on my human visage. I wanted to howl. I wanted to rip into the crowd, cracking bone and tearing open throats. To this day, I don’t know how I kept from changing. But I did. Somehow, I pried my fingers from the duster. The charmed garment dropped to the ground. After a moment or two, the image of my sire faded away and the resonance of misery ended.
But the memory of what I had witnessed was inescapable.
Tung was torturing my love, bringing her within inches of the ultimate end and then magically restoring her, only to repeat the pattern. I had, no doubt, that what I’d seen was real. Tung had crafted the spell on my duster, left the coat where I would find it, to inform me. He wanted me to understand what he was doing. He wanted me to suffer as Dru did and to feel helpless in the face of that suffering. If I wore the duster, I would experience every moment of my sire’s torment. If Tung killed her…I might die. I had no way of knowing the scope of the spell. It could very well be fatal.
Shaking like a whipped dog, I looked over at Lojza. He seemed fine. Gizela was sobbing softly but also seemed to be recovering. But that told me nothing. A spell like this is specific. It would be designed for me not my offspring. And while it might spare them, it could still be deadly to me. Tung expected me to react from my gut, to be mindless. But with Drusilla at stake, I couldn't risk touching the duster again until I knew more. I needed to understand the nature of the enchantment.
I was dimly aware of the people still gawking at us from the street. I suddenly wondered if anyone had called the police or an ambulance. Awkward questions would be asked.
"Lydie," I barked, while offering a hand to Gizela. "Get the coat. We're going."
I got no argument from her this time. She scrambled up from the floor and scuttled forward in a half-crouch to pick up the duster. I didn’t look at her directly. She was no longer the head of her little household. I was alpha. She needed to learn her place. Wrapping an arm around Gizela’s waist, I let her lean on my shoulder. Lydie and Lojza followed meekly behind as we headed for the car. I wanted them to worry about their value to me.
The remaining gawkers parted for us as I helped my ‘epileptic’ friend. I settled Gizela in the passenger seat and took the keys from her. Before we drove off, I glanced up at the third floor window. Tung’s other man, Thing Two, had vanished. It was too much to hope he was having one off. Tung would know I had the duster. For a brief moment I considered muscling my way into Thing Two’s hide-away and trying to sniff out a scent trail. But Tung would have taken precautions like he did with Thing One.
I needed a little wizardry of my own.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Real witches don’t advertise.
Magic shops do. But most of them carry sod all in the way of quality merchandise. These days, it’s mostly new age crap, candles and incense and the like. If you need a practitioner of the black arts in a hurry a sex shop is your safest bet. People craving renewed satisfaction have been greasing the palms of spell slingers for centuries. There’s nothing like a little satyr-mold potion to stiffen a man’s resolve in the bedroom.
We turned the car in the direction
of old town, in hopes of finding an open-minded entrepreneur in newly
capitalistic
Visions of my tormented sire kept replaying in my head and I had trouble keeping my mind on the road. I longed to plow through the mob, scattering bodies in the wake of my vehicle. More than that, I wanted to sink my teeth into Tung’s delicates while driving a hot poker up his wizard works.
But first I had to find him. A show of temper would only serve up more
delays. I needed cold reason to follow
the lead I had. The enchantment on my
duster could be backtracked. With any luck at all, I would find someone capable
of performing a locator spell before
Happily, the particular business we were in need of stayed open late but time was still working against us. The streets were emptying. Soon the only ones about would be drunks and hookers and pickpockets and fools. I didn’t fancy being pegged as any of the above by the increasingly obvious police presence.
Meanwhile, Gizela added an extra dollop of worry to my overall anxiety level. Her stock dropped sharply on the short but exhausting trip when I learned she’d left her dinner alive. Beyond that, she’d neglected to roll the woman. No money and a witness, just what I needed to cap off the buggered pointless story-of-my-night-so-far.
I spotted a parking space just as she was imparting the news. A low growl rumbled in my throat. I maneuvered the tiny car into the tight space, slammed the gearshift through its paces and killed the engine. Then, I turned in my seat to level a look at the bint. My voice was chilly when I spoke.
“You didn’t think to take her money?”
“We don’t need money,” she said with a careless laugh. “We can take whatever we want.”
I bit back my first and second rejoinder. It was, afterall, a common misconception among the newly turned. They feel the rush of power and think the ways of the world are behind them. It’s a giddy sensation, no more broken-hearts, no more debts or obligations, no more struggles to survive. But sadly, we all learn the truth. Nature is just as rough on the undead as she is on her own.
“I want money,” I reminded. “But unfortunately you didn’t take it.” I cast my gaze over my shoulder to address Lojza. “What about you?” I asked. “Did you leave the cash on the corpse, too?”
Without a word, he pulled a handful of bills from his jeans’ pocket and held them out in a loose grip. I snatched the money.
“And when were you going to tell me about this?” I barked.
“When you brought it up,” he said, but not with open defiance.
He gave a negligent shrug as if the whole matter was of no import to him. I narrowed my eyes and kept my face stony. I was careful not to betray any emotion, but inside I was grinning like a proud papa. Lojza was a smart boy.
For his reward, I took him with me
on my trip to The Elemental Sensation,
a gay-trade shop just off the
Gizela stayed with the car.
Before we parted company, I stuffed my duster into an old shopping tote I found in the boot. I might look like a wanker carrying a pink and white Lady’s Secrets bag around town, but I couldn’t afford to let the coat out of my keeping.
The company was sparse, a few romantic fools and a score of drunken ones. I padded along softly but the slight squelch of my wet deck shoes was magnified in the stillness. The sound seemed to echo off the surrounding buildings. The narrow valley of the side street we traveled opened suddenly onto the more populated old town square. I couldn’t help but pause to admire the view.
There was something soothing about
the quality of the light reflecting off the baroque carvings gracing the walls
around us. Only on an autumn night in
The clock tower rose before us, moonlight reflecting off the golden circle of astronomical measures in one of its faces. The bulk of the tower cast a shadow into the center of the plaza, a pointed finger of deeper darkness. Despite the late hour, there were still people lingering in the square. They moved quietly though, reverently. The peace of the place put predator and prey at ease. For a second or two, I let go of my stomach-clenching fear for Drusilla.
The reprieve was brief but
welcome. Lydie
took her leave of us and headed for the far side of the plaza. Watching her go, I felt a surge of renewed
confidence.
We crossed the square at an angle and entered one of the many side alleys feeding into it. Here there were no gas lamps. Neon and fluorescent lights marked the newer businesses. The harsh illumination caused my pupils to contract painfully.
Once I grew accustomed to the light, I easily located The Elemental Sensation.
There was a large blue and yellow legend in the show window proclaiming the name of the sex shop. A buzzer on the door whined plaintively as Lojza and I entered. A balding man with a long ponytail glanced up briefly from his glossy magazine. He stared fixedly at my tote for a moment but then shrugged off any remnant of curiosity and lost all interest in us. I took Lojza’s elbow and steered him toward a fetish display.
The boy didn’t bat an eye at the collection of whips, chains and velvet hoods. No doubt, he had seen it all before in the privacy of his own home. We weren’t there for his benefit in any case. Let him get his own education. I had other things on my mind.
Following our prearranged plan, we paused near the videos for a heated exchange of whispered but purposefully audible comments.
“Go on then ask him,” I urged.
“I don’t want to,” the boy said sulkily. “I don’t see why I always have to be the one…”
“We’ve been over this a hundred times,” I said, making a great show of handing him back some of the money I’d taken earlier. “I can’t risk anyone finding out. If my wife knew I needed to do this…”
He glowered at me, fingering the bills as if assessing their value. He had a nice glower, very convincing.
I added a cajoling note to my stage whisper. “Please, just one more time. I’ll stop after this…I promise.” I stroked his arm. “But…you know what will happen if you don’t…”
“Hey!” He pulled sharply away from me.
“Shhhh, okay,” I said, immediately conciliatory. “I don’t want it to happen, either. You know that right? That’s why we’re here. Look…what if I buy you that CD player you wanted?”
“And the Alice Cooper album?”
“If there’s money left over.”
“No, you always say there’s not enough. I want the money first.”
I shot a quick look around and noted with some satisfaction that we had the clerk’s full attention.
“Fine, here,” I growled, shoving a wad of cash into the boy’s fine-boned hands. “Just get it.”
Had he lived, Lojza might have made a grand concert pianist. He had long, elegant fingers with an easy full-octave spread. Even when fisted they had grace.
But then, again, had he lived most likely he would have been a streetwalker like his mother, knees-up to the gentry for a few quid. When you think on it, I probably spared him a life of degradation. A little discomfort is a small price to pay for being shot straight to the top of the food chain.
The boy’s future, however, was the
last thing on my mind. I was thinking
only of Dru and itching for my shot at Tung, as I watched Lojza make his way to the counter. My sire needed me and I was jizzing away my time in the back alleys of
“Get on with it,” I hissed.
Lojza seemed content to chat about football and the weather. After what seemed like an eternity to me, the discussion turned to business. The boy spoke in hushed tones with the clerk but I could hear every word. Even before Lojza turned to shake his head at me, I knew we were out of luck. The man had never heard of Sauldi Stones or their curative properties. He chuckled indulgently at the suggestion of witchcraft.
I didn’t have to feign my disappointment. Striding to the counter, I grabbed Lojza by the elbow and, hustling him along with me, continued toward the door without stopping. The shopkeeper stirred from his perch and hurried in our wake. He tried to interest me in Spanish fly or something called Prick Butter but I waved him off. Any witch or warlock competent enough to back trace a spell would know that an elixir steeped from the gallstones of Sauldi demons alleviates pedophilia, not impotence.
I goose-stepped Lojza into the alleyway without much resistance. But as soon as we crossed the threshold and hit pavement, he wrenched free of my grip. He turned on me angrily, eyes flashing. His lips were drawn back in a snarl. I almost cuffed him but held my temper in check. We had work to do before sunrise. I didn’t have time for another family squabble. It suited me to keep Lojza in a receptive mood. So, instead of lashing out, I pulled him close, wrapping him in my arms.
He hissed and thrashed about as, murmuring softly, I nuzzled along his neck. He smelled good, inviting, like the blood of my blood. I held on tight. Gradually, his struggles grew weaker. I cupped his cheek in one palm and tilted his head up until our lips met. A faint shudder radiated along his frail limbs when we kissed. He braced both hands against me and a small moan of dissent filled his mouth. I can give the boy his due. He wasn’t a poof and he knew it.
But the sire bond is a powerful thing. It makes us all starry-eyed at first and no newly turned vampire can resist the pull of it. Lojza didn’t want me to take any liberties but he didn’t have the will to resist my advances either. Slowly, he uncoiled out of his defensive posture. His mouth turned pliant under mine. After a time, he sought my throat, unerringly seeking the mark of his earlier bite. His nearly feminine fingers crept up under the hem of my shirt. I let him explore, resting my chin on the top of his head. I gently stroked the back of his neck until he opened into my body.
As the boy’s guard came down, I glanced up. To my surprise, the shop clerk was gawking at us. His nose was pressed to the glass of the door. I smiled and winked at the git. He backed away in startled confusion. Lojza was no longer fighting the bond. His flesh had melted into mine like we were one.
Which we were.
“No need to fly up in the boughs, Joyce. It’s the nature of the bond. I don’t sire children as a rule. But once I turned the boy his destiny was
set. I had a responsibility to him. He
was going to be thirteen forever. If I broke him to his place in the grand
scheme, taught him to enjoy what he had to do to survive, what does it matter?
“Yes, okay there are other considerations. I see your point. But
really! Did you think he was going to
have a long and idyllic afterlife, hunting bunnies with his mum? Eternally youthful children have a niche in
the food chain. They are created to prey
on the sexual predators of this world.
But for the record, I’m not one.
“I’m a different kind of predator all together.
“I didn’t get off on our heavy petting session. I was simply using my leverage as one of Lojza’s sires to gain the boy’s cooperation. After we cuddled a bit, I brought him back to
his senses with a shove. You can stop pulling that face, Joyce. I’m telling you the truth. I find
devoted little boys a soddin’ nuisance. Darla turned a few of them and they were
constantly underfoot, always mouthing off to their betters.
“‘Course, if it makes you happier, you can imagine Lojza preying
exclusively on little girls his own age.
Now, where was I…oh, yes…in the alleyway…”
We visited three more shops with
no more success. It was after ten by
this time and I was beginning to think my foolproof plan needed work. Apparently the wave of entrepreneurial zeal
that had gripped
The rain had picked up to a
drizzle by the time Lojza and I paused to regroup. We had about an hour before
Lojza
made a soft animal cry in the back of his throat, a yip of longing. I answered him in kind. We were standing in
an isolated patch in the middle of
I was about to move when Lojza tugged at my sleeve. He nodded toward the right. His mother was coming out of a side street. Perfect timing, I thought. Smiling, I caught her eye and with the slightest dip of my chin signaled her toward one of the stragglers, a short, balding man with a good size belly and the jingle of abundant coin in his pockets. She moved to intercept. Lojza and I separated, circling like wolves.
Now, the
My fangs descended. I wasn’t in the best mood to be crossed. I might have overreacted but for the fact that the light-fingered pair handed off the loot almost immediately to a drop. This second-wave thief was a thirty-something male. He was a medium height and average weight, plainly the sort of person who could blend into the background. But he was distinguished by a really topping pair of steel-toed boots, size twelve if I was any judge. I saw at a glance he was a man after my own heart. My brow smoothed out and I smiled. No more slogging about in soggy deck shoes.
Lojza and Lydie were already heading back to my side. I cut my eyes toward the walking shoe store. They both followed my glance and we moved with one mind to converge on our new target. The drop-off man was obligingly heading for a darkened passageway.
There wasn’t a soul within thirty
meters of him. He seemed to be the final
holder of the goods, which was lucky for us.
It was a common thing in
I waved Lojza back as we closed in on the thief. I wanted to let Lydie make the kill. She was the only one still untested. I stood by to assist but she made a quick job of it, throttling the man so he had no chance to cry out. We ate well. I took the lion’s share of the meal as my right but let Lydie feed next to me. I stroked through her hair as we ate and she purred in pleasure. While we dined, Lojza went through the corpse’s pockets and retrieved our money.
“There’s a good take here,” he informed, counting out, “Two-hundred and sixty, seventy, seventy-three…and a Visa Card and a Diner’s Club…”
“Get his boots off,” I said, between gulps of O-positive.
When we’d eaten our fill, Lydie encouraged her son to have a little something. I braced myself against the wall and she knelt down to help me try on my new footwear. The boots were a perfect fit. Over the years you develop a good eye for that sort of thing. I thought about a blow job or a cigarette but there was only one thing I really wanted. And Lydie was able to provide.
“I have news,” she said. Her face was transformed with a sense of pride. “You know the old woman I told you about? Well, she wasn’t able to help and she knew straight off I was different. Called me a vampire. I don’t think it would be safe to go back there. She told me there would be traps. I know she did something so I couldn’t hurt her. But she also said she hates this Tung person and would be glad for you to kill him. So I asked her about the potion, like you said, and she told me she gets her potions from a vodnik.”
“Bloody hell! Why didn’t I think of that?” I yelped, smacking my forehead with an open palm and causing Lydie to start violently and Lojza to look up from his meal.
“Because there’s no such thing as a vodnik,” Lojza remarked, with all the smug certainty of a thirteen year old addressing his elders.
I gave him a pointed look. “Oh, tha’s right! They’re like vampires and witches and the rest.” His mouth twisted wryly and his eyes lit up as he took my meaning.
“You mean there really are water fairies?” He asked in delight, sounding very like the innocent boy he would always resemble. “Are we going to see one?”
“That all depends.” I looked at Lydie. The light from the plaza was kind to her. She looked years younger and I felt a rush of tenderness. She was high in favor for the moment. I swept the damp strands of hair from her face as I asked, “Did your shopkeeper friend happen to say how she contacts this vodnik?”
The tight edge in my voice made Lydie flinch slightly but the smug look she shot me spoke volumes. She’d done her homework. This time she didn’t mean to disappoint.
“I made sure she told me
everything before I left. That’s what
took so long. The vodnik
lives under Karlov Most. What you have to do is go to the bridge at
“Bugger all!” I shoved her away so
hard she stumbled to the opposite wall of our little alley. “Not the soddin’ bridge sprites! We can’t use any vodnik of
“Wh-why not? I thought…”
I sneeringly repeated the relevant part of her instructions. “’Under St. Adalbert statue?’”
When she continued to look blank, I spelled it out for her. “We’re vampires! That means we don’t handle crosses or douse ourselves in holy water or go to church of a bloody Sunday. That bridge is consecrated ground, blessed and counter-blessed, thirty plus times over. The likes of us can’t get within two blocks of it without feeling the burn, never mind standing in the bloody shadow of buggering St. Adalbert’s fuck-all statuette.”
“I didn’t…I…”
When she plucked plaintively at my sleeve, I angrily shook her off. With a frustrated grunt, I turned my back on my new family and walked away. The boots were comfortable at least. I appreciated the difference they made in my predatory glide as I stalked back out into the plaza. And I was well fed. I felt more like myself. I didn’t notice or care if the other two followed me. My mind was working overtime on an idea.
The vodnik
of
Vodnik’s
weren’t born or bred. They sprang up
fully formed every time some poor unfortunate drowned in Slavic waters. During the great flood of 1890, Drusilla and
I acted midwife to at least thirty
If they put up a fight when she tried to throw them back, I would lend a hand and….
I came to a sudden halt. Lojza trod on my heels but I didn’t bother slapping him down. It had occurred to me, all in a rush that a whole generation of river folk owed me and my beautiful sire their very existence. A bartering chip of such weight was surely more valuable than a pint of virgin’s blood. But just in case, I decided to hedge my bets. I dropped a companionable arm around Lojza. I hugged him close and he shot me a suspicious glance, as I said, smart boy.
“Tell me, son,” I rumbled seductively. “Is there someone you fancy?” When he squirmed uneasily, I saw he’d got the wrong end of the stick and clarified. “A skirt, I mean. A lady fair? And a nice girl, mind. I’m not interested in the flash piece you wish you had. I want someone young and sweet and bang up to the nines, none of those old salts what hang with your mum.”
He didn’t answer straight away. I could tell he was thinking out his answer. We walked along in silence for a bit. Lojza had turned sulky and non-responsive.
“Becka,” he said, at last, the word barely a whisper. My fingers tightened around the ball of his shoulder but he seemed unwilling to say more.
“Becka--?” I repeated, in a leading way.
Despite my easy tone, I was edging
toward totally hacked off. I took a
moment to look around, checking for watchful eyes. The street we were on was deserted. I put the time at a little past
“And where might this Becka live? Somewhere near your flat? You think, if we knocked her up at this hour, she might invite us in?”
Lojza kept his steely glare on the paving stones underfoot but I noticed his hands were curled into fists. He held his body stiff and his chin jutted sharply. He was defying me again. And with little reason, I wasn’t asking for much by our standards. All I could figure it for was true love. As he stomped along beside me, I could feel a hum of energy at his core. I admired his spirit. A man’s got to do what he can to protect his own.
But this show of spunk wasn’t going to work, not when Drusilla was in desperate need of my own protection. My dark love took precedence.
“You’re going to help me to her, lad,” I told him, as I let my arm drop, “One way or another you will.”
“I won’t,” he said stubbornly.
Without a smidge of warning, my fist crashed into his jaw. The blow spun him around like a leaf in an autumn breeze. He staggered but didn’t fall. I watched him spit out a few loosened teeth and fang up. His growl was ferocious. I was that impressed with it. I could tell he meant to kill me. Lucky, he was a whelp and about one third my weight. I ducked to the side as he charged blindly in and leveled him with a second punch.
Lydie gave a cry of alarm and rushed forward to kneel by her fallen child. She took his head into her lap and used the hem of her skirt to carefully wipe the blood from his lips. As he stirred groggily, she kissed him. There was something disturbing about the embrace. Her mouth devoured his and, even half-gone to the world, he started to resist.
For some reason, I took exception to the scene. I can’t say why. I had shared a sire bond before, several in fact, with Drusilla. And if, on occasion, she took a fancy to some jointly-turned pup, I was man enough to step aside and let her have a bit of fun. I could leave it alone. But Lydie’s fondling of Lojza seemed to reek of precedent. I was reaching for her before I had time to think the action through.
I don’t know what I intended to do or say but it hardly mattered. I didn’t have an opportunity to intervene. As I took hold of Lydie’s shoulder, the boy pushed her violently away. My nails gouged four long strips in her flesh when she tumbled to one side. Lojza scrubbed the knuckles of his hand over his mouth before spitting out an ugly oath.
“Stay off me,” he growled, low and dangerous. “I’m sick of you pawing me. I’m not your boyfriend and I never was.” He pointed a stiff finger at me. “And that goes for you, too.”
I raised an unimpressed brow at the lad, plainly indicating I would do as I pleased. But Lydie seemed crushed by his reaction. She sat back on her haunches in shocked disbelief. The skirt of her dress pooled around her boney knees. She had the puffy-faced look of a jilted woman. I saw her blink away tears. Just for a second she looked old and defeated but then the demon took her and her face hardened. She turned to me with the gold spark of jealousy in her eyes.
“He means Becka Dienzenhoefer,” she said.
“Shut your hole, Bitch,” Lojza snarled. He leaped up and kicked out at her but she was too quick. She rolled under his foot and scrambled to her feet. Dancing backward, she gave a mocking laugh at his inept efforts to connect.
“Where can I find her?” I asked.
“In the apartments across the street from us,” Lydie replied, shoving her rabid son away when one of his fists hit her too hard. His ass hit the cobblestones again. “You can see into her bedroom from our window. But I don’t know why anyone would bother looking. She’s a color-less thing, no figure yet.”
“Is she your girlfriend?” I ask Lojza. He is too angry to answer. His eyes blazed yellow.
“He doesn’t even know her,” Lydie continued venomously. “She never gave him a second glance. But I’ve turned a trick or two in her building so I know her name. Her mother’s on a pension from the government. She was probably a spy. They’re not our kind. I told him a hundred times, but would he listen? No! He should stick to his own sort but he spends all day mooning over what he can’t have and diddling his own meat.”
The boy cringed. He folded into a tight ball, wrapping his arms around his knees and lowering his head as if protecting his vitals.
Preserve me from a mother’s tongue, I thought and decided to put an end to the matter.
“Leave off,” I snarled at the woman. She didn’t think to argue but immediately fell silent.
I strode over to stand above the huddle of incipient manhood that was her son. He didn’t move for a time but finally, he looked up and I offered him my hand. He sneered at the gesture. Disdaining my help, he got to his feet without assistance. I watched him set his back to a streetlamp.
We formed a loose knot of dysfunction, mother, son and sire, everyone on guard. I almost wanted to scarper and the hell with the lot of them. With Dru in serious peril, I surely didn’t have time for this kind of thing. But I as the senior member of the pack, I had an obligation. I took out a smoke and lit up while I contemplated the best way to handle the situation. Fact was I was starting to like the boy. He was a lot like me, a rebel and a bit of an idealist.
“You got aspirations above your station, nipper,” I said when the moment seemed ripe. “That’s commendable. But I don’t mean to be put off. I got my own woman to think about. If the spell to locate Dru calls for the spilling of innocent blood, blood will be spilled. It’s time you were a man about this. I don’t take no for an answer.” I took another long pull on my fag and let that sink in before I continued. “That don’t mean you lose out on the deal, though. Something to consider: you sire this Becka bint and she’ll be all over you.”
I saw his eyes light up at that notion and I held his gaze, letting a slow smile spread out around the butt of my cigarette. When I was sure he’d taken my meaning, I inhaled a final cloud of nicotine before negligently flicking my smoke into the gutter. I watched the red coal of it bounce over a sewer grating and disappear into the depths. Then, I beckoned Lojza closer with two crooked fingers.
He held back. The idea of siring his paramour frightened and enchanted him all at once.
“I wouldn’t know how to…”
“I can teach you,” I encouraged, running roughshod over his slight objection. “You’ll take to it fine. The pair of you can have a few years of the blissful happy.” He still looked doubtful. “And if that’s not what you want, fine! I can understand how you might have other plans for the chit. Tie her up and have your way with her. Take her out for ice cream. It’s no concern of mine. But I need to have my pint.”
He nodded his understanding of the point.
“Tell ya’ what,” I said, slipping my arm around his waist. “I’ll leave the job to you. Find me another girl before sun-up if you like or bring me your Becka. I won’t have to kill her for a pint of claret, you know. Give you my solemn word, I’ll let her go free if that’s what you think is best. But if you decide to bleed her out, I’ll walk you through the siring.”
And we left it at that until we were back in the car and on the road home.
END THIS PART