He turned towards me, taking my hands in his and kissing them, scraping his teeth gently against my knuckles.
“Do you know what I am?”
“Of course I know what you are. You are of the ones they call damned, a vampire.”
“Indeed. And does that bother you?”
“In my faith there is no such thing as damnation.”
“An unsteady faith without sin. How delicious.”
“There is also the knowledge of what you do and what you once were.” I reminded him. “That is more important then what you are now.”
“All I am now is a living corpse.” He said, dropping my hands back into my lap.
“You’re an artist, a painter. Before, when you were, when you were alive, you were apart of a coven, like me.”
“How extraordinary.” He sighed, flashing fang as he smiled. “To know everything about a person before you even meet them.”
“Why me?” I asked him. Reaching forward to touch his face, I searched for his eyes but he slapped my hand away.
“You should never look into my eyes Lyris! Not now. If you do, I can’t control myself.”
“Would you really strike?”
“There are many ways to strike. I could strike to feed, but I have Riley for that, he is my pomme de sange, my apple of blood. I could strike to transform, to exchange blood with a human and make them a Vampire as I am, one of the undead, but I only transform the willing. I could strike to bind one to me.”
“To make them my human servant. A human servant is a human that is tied to a vampire when the vampire gives them 'marks'. These marks bind the human to the vampire and both parties gain. A normal human without any magical or necromancy talents who has been given the fourth mark must obey their vampire Master. However, they will gain strength, they will age slower and thus live as long as the vampire, they are more difficult to kill and their wounds will heal quicker. They will also be able to withstand more pain and will not be able to be rolled by a vampire's eyes. In return a vampire will be able to communicate telepathically with their servant and their servant will act as their eyes and ears during the daylight hours. They can also feed through their servant or taste human/solid food through them.
A vampire can only have one servant and when either one dies the other will usually also join them in death.”
“Is that what you wish to have of me?”
“I don’t know what I want of you.”
I shook my head, resisting the temptation to touch his face again. “You don’t know! I am already bonded to you; you have had me bonded to you for seventeen years. Why?”
“Who can decide what they dream Lyris?”
“Are you disappointed then? That I am the one who has filled your visions?”
“Never Lyris, you are my fate. How can I be disappointed in that? I’ve had visions of you before you were even born, I will have visions of you until the end of time. I have immortality with you, even if it is only in dreams.”
“Immortality.” I whispered, licking my lips as if I could taste the word. “I have always worshiped immortality.”
He looked at me, staring at my mouth. I licked my lips again and he smiled, I saw the corner of his eyes shine golden in the darkness. “I know.”
“We’re home Master!” Riley yelled.
Killian swung open the carriage door and stepped out, he took my hand and helped me from the carriage, and then his hand moved down, to rest on the small of my back as he led me up the dark walk and into the dark interior of his house.
He took a piece of flint from his waist coat breast pocket and began to light tall pillar temples as they stood around the room, illuminating the foyer. I gasped at what the light revealed
“It is magnificent is it not?”
“It is a palace!” I awed.
I looked up at the high cathedral ceiling that depicted pictures of the apocalypse, a dragon swooped down towards a lake of blood. “Revelations, the only book in the bible that I ever read.” I said
“As it was for me.” Killian agreed.
“Who painted this mural?”
“I did.” Killian said, coming up behind me and wrapping his arms around my waist, he kissed my cheek. I reached back and grabbed his hand, bringing the cool, snow white fingertips forward to stroke my face.
“Show me your á coucher.” I whispered, feeling a strange velvet coating enter my throat. I slanted my eyes and smiled, turning towards Killian. I stroked my collar bone, feeling the heating flicker of candle light against my face.
Killian watched the progression of my hand along my collar bone with his forbidden eyes.
“Like in the dreams?”
“This is a waking dream Killian. Not a reverie.”
“Indeed.” He murmured, he rubbed his hands up and down my arms and took hold of my hands.
“This way, love.”
He led me up the spiraling staircase into a hallway hung with portraits. “Who are those in these paintings?”
“What was once my family.” He replied mournfully.
“Did you paint these?”
He turned into a side hall to the left, leading me down to a door that sat at the end of it. He took up a chain of keys that he had attached to his belt.
“You keep the door locked?”
“Yes. So no one may enter during the day and let the sunlight in.”
“Oh. That would not be good.”
“No my love, it would not.” He slid the key into the lock and opened the door, leading me into the complete darkness of the windowless room.
“You are already my dear, very much awake.”
I heard the strike of flint and a faint glow of fire illuminated Killian’s face. He leaned down and began to light pillar candles and candelabras around the room. When he finished, I found myself standing in a golden stone room, carpeted with animal furs and silk Moroccan pillows in colors of pink purple and green. A huge vanity sat against the right wall, carved with images of angels and cherubs screaming out of the wood work, I walked over to it and ran my hand over the texture of the wood, feeling the vine carvings press into my fingers.
Killian watched me as I explored the contents upon the dresser. A vile of perfume that smelled like sandalwood, a pure silver hand held mirror, cuff links, a small ebony carving of Shiva, a Grecian marble vase, a hand painted bowl with the Celtic knot painted in the center and Moroccan silk scarves that draped over the intricate carvings.
“You must have been all around the world! How did you acquire such wealth?”
“Love, everyone in this world would have wealth, if only they had more time.”
I placed the mirror back on the vanity and turned around, seeing myself and the room reflected back at me. The entire left wall was a mirror. I walked toward Killian, watching him in the mirror. He reached out for me and I grabbed his hand. I turned away from my reflection and towards him, focusing my gaze on the revealed skin of his throat. I leaned forward and pressed my lips against that piece of exposed flesh, feeling the suppleness of his skin against my mouth.
“I want that time.”
“I know you do Lyris.”
He leaned down and pressed his lips against mine, the smell of him rose around me, sweet and potent, dizzying.
I broke away from him.
“I want to bind you to me Lyris.”
“Tell me about this binding.”
“I’m not much of a story teller.” He sneered as he wrapped his arms around me and picked me up, carrying me towards the bed that lay in the center of his chambre, upon a raised platform.
Gently, he set me down onto the bed and leaned over me, laying kisses along my throat. “Your skin is so supple, so tempting.” He purred.
He gently pulled on the neckline of my dress, ripping the delicate material. I didn’t even flinch as I felt the moon dress tear.
I reached down and kneaded my fingertips through Killian’s hair, pulling it loose from the tie. His hair fell down around his shoulders like a soft curtain, tumbling down over my shoulders to mix with the wild tangles of my own.
“I’m not much of a story teller.” Killian repeated. “But I can show you.”
“Then by all means, amarante à fleurs en queue.” Was my bittersweet reply. I turned my head to the left to see the mirror; I looked into Killian’s eyes reflected back at me, a powerless reflection. The only way I could look into them without being under his control.
Killian’s mouth fell down on the hollow center between my breasts; he licked up slowly, along the skin. Then he lifted his head up slightly, his head posed above the swell of left breast.
“This is my love laid bleeding.” And with that, Killian struck. His fangs sank deeply into my skin, piercing me above my heart. I let out a sharp scream as I felt all my blood flowing through me. I waited for the glass around the world to shatter. I waited for everyone on earth to drop to their hands and knees and bleed. This was the truth of life, death, resurrection, immortality. This was the truth of flight. The visions that made sane men go mad. This was the key. The truth pierced my soul like suicide, Oh such a beautiful metaphor that is, for what destroys the soul more then suicide?
Killian yelled out around me and broke away, my blood dripping down his chin. He licked some of it from his lips, flashing fang at me.
I looked up, and stared deep into his eyes. They bore back into my mine, bright and golden and powerless.