Aleron: Book One of Strigoi Series (Stringoi Series) (18 page)

BOOK: Aleron: Book One of Strigoi Series (Stringoi Series)
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“Futile, isn’t it?” I questioned in her ear. “To struggle will only bring you closer to me. Now tell me what I desire to know!” I lifted her into the air, and we flew.

“I know who you are, Aleron. I know who made you. I know your secrets. And I know what you desire most.”

I stopped in midflight and began to descend rapidly to the ground. We landed with such a massive force that the trees surrounding us shook. She was temporarily stunned.

“She made you powerful. Mynea must have wept down to her very marrow when she decided to leave such a mate.”

I tried to read her mind but only saw our encounter from her perspective, nothing more.

“You’re too young to read my mind, Aleron. Your strength is undeniable, but your mental skill as an immortal tells of your true age.”

“Who are you?”

“I’m Pandora, and no doubt you have concluded I’m a vampire.”

“Where do you come from?”

“I come from a land you have visited in your dreams, far to the west of Egypt, deep within the Carpathians. As for whom I come from, that would be the very same origin of your beloved dark mother. We are of the same bloodline. However, I’m much older than she.”

I began to feel an uneasiness. Why would Mynea keep the existence of others away from me? Especially those who knew of her? Pandora stood perfectly still, and I began to pace back and forth before her.

“You haven’t had a meal, Aleron. Here, drink from me and know what I tell you to be true. Drink from me and know that lies have not assaulted your ears.”

With her hand, she caressed the back of my head, inviting me to drink from her alluring outstretched neck. The artery began to call out to me as her steady heartbeat increased. I drew closer, opened my mouth, and gave her the vampire kiss once reserved for Mynea.

Out of love, lust, or hunger, I began to draw from her the life force,
the blood nectar that was much more potent from a vampire. The blood of humans was indeed an undeniable lust, but the blood of an immortal was a thousand times more saporous. This was simply a meal I couldn’t resist. It was a reflex. It was the equivalent of the need to take that first deep breath after holding one’s breath underwater. It was more than a desire. It was more than a want. It was a necessity.

Pandora’s blood flowed willingly into my mouth. The feeling was greater than any feeling I had ever felt in my mortal or immortal years. My blood ignited! I could literally taste her strength. I could feel the power she beheld. I felt my own strength increasing with every passing second. I don’t remember ever swallowing. Pandora’s blood simply traveled from her body to mine. I could feel her pulse within me. I could sense her persona all around me, sensual and powerful. More powerful than Mynea, I concluded. For, with Mynea, I was at least able to withdraw from her flesh at will, but with Pandora, my will yielded. There were no bounds nor climax to my lust. This must simply last forever. I would have drained her dry if that were possible. Had it not been for the need to feel this feeling again, I would have tried, but I needed this again and again. I needed this immortal kiss.

By nature, vampires are solitary creatures, but we desperately need and yearn for the companionship of another immortal, if only to exchange a blood kiss and death omen alike. I needed Pandora!

My entire body was elevated by Pandora’s blood. I could see her memories as clear depictions in a motion picture. I saw glimpses of a mother watching her young daughter’s reflection in a mirror as she combed through the daughter’s dark flowing hair. They were of wealth, no doubt. I saw brothers enjoying the adolescent company of their younger and only sister. Suddenly I saw her father and mother scolding her with raised voices regarding some man seen the previous evening lurking about outside the window leading into the daughter’s bedroom. Then, I saw the familiar castle, the castle I saw in my dreams, the ancient stone walls I witnessed in Mynea’s memoirs, and then, I heard him—the very voice I’d come to know and almost fear.

His voice was immensely in command, speaking a forgotten language with impeccable diction. His enormous eyes were larger than life,
disproportionate to the skull they rested in, darker than an abyss. They were dismal to look at, yet intriguingly mesmerizing. Pandora was telling the truth thus far. She knew of my immortal mother, and she knew of the places and visions I’d seen in countless dreams, running themes seemingly inherent to vampires. It was a common psychic connection drawing us closer to one another, while simultaneously driving us further apart. I wanted more, so much more. It was unbearable to think of anything else. I needed Pandora.

As I continued suckling with an immortal’s lustful frenzy, I heard the voice of my vampire mother. “Beware, my prince.” I imagined the voice, born from the guilty pleasure and infidelity I was engaging in.

Suddenly I felt Pandora’s powerful hand on the back of my head. I fully expected her to tear me away from the puncture in her neck, for I had far exceeded the time allowed for sucking the blood from Mynea; however, to my surprise, she pressed my head in full submission to my will, accepting my desire, feeding my need to continue. She had so much to offer. How I wanted to take it all. She knew.

We went on in this fashion for an eternity. I began to feel her pull away from me. My lips and tongue struggled to continue, but she had already separated us. I opened my eyes and saw that she was staring at me. “She must have cried for months when she left you.”

My head was swimming with fulfillment. I was strong yet weak. I felt a new strength boiling within, yet I only wanted to rest. So many visions, some blurred and less distinct than others. Most of the memories were disjointed and impossible to follow. Though I could feel the rejuvenation in my body, my mind only sought understanding, discernment that only she could give. I looked at Pandora. She was looking into the distance.

“There, young one. You’re now as you were and more. I’ve much to tell you as you have many questions, for I can sense you’re rattled by the incoherent visions and memories you saw in my blood.” Pandora’s voice was soft and full of endowment, reassuring, kind, and accepting. She had been following me with purpose.

She turned to me. I could now marvel at her beauty. She was a creature whose allure rivaled Mynea’s. Her height and general stature were almost identical to my immortal mother and lover. Her breasts were
slightly larger and thus more supple. The garment she wore was little more than a silk gown that clung to every sensual curve. It was almost transparent. She wore no shoes, for vampires rarely needed them and kept them more as a lingering habit. There were no blemishes on her skin, no discolorations to accent the creamy olive tone that covered her. Her hair was dark brown. Her eyebrows matched her hair in color but remained untamed. Her cheekbones complemented her tiny nose, bearing narrow nostrils that nestled perfectly under two bold eyes, suggesting the greenish blue colors of the Aegean Sea, and just as clear.

Looking directly into Pandora’s eyes led me directly to her soul. She was more radiant than my queen. I knew my possession was no longer relevant. It no longer applied. “My queen left me,” I said.

“She did, but with good reason, young Aleron.”

I stood. “Why did she leave me? Where did she go?” My voice was elevated and bothered.

“Be still, Aleron. Allow my blood to circulate within you and give you calmness and focus unmatched by any previous meals, mortal or immortal alike.”

She was right. Though I was standing, she could sense the anxiousness in my posture and tone. I rested on the back of my heels and took in the cool night’s air. Sensing I was calm, Pandora began.

CHAPTER 15
 

y story begins long before your beloved immortal Mynea came to be. Your questions must be fully answered by going back to a place and time we’re all familiar with, yet most of us misunderstand.”

Sitting on the ground, facing me, she placed her hand on the nape of my neck and caressed the lower back of my head. Her eyes spoke as softly to me as did her lips.

“Your dreams may seem incoherent and jumbled. However, they have purpose and profound meaning, the likes of which you can scarcely comprehend or imagine, given your relative youth in the realm of immortality. You’ll come to know that our age is significant in our existence. Some of us are much stronger than others. We’re all alike and different at the same time. Commonality, however, we do possess, outside of the dreams, outside of the hunger, outside of our will to live and die. This commonality is where I must begin. This common existence has a single
origin, a beginning that spawned many immortals, all of which are alike. With one exception—you.”

Pandora’s eyes changed from sea green to a reflective pearl off-white. She was looking through me. I was about to ask what she meant by the exception, but she continued to speak.

“Mynea told you what you are and how you should survive. These lessons are essential. However, she failed to tell you
who
you are. Knowledge of self starts long before your birth. It starts beyond the birth of your parents. It starts at the very beginning of your lineage. It starts with the first of you. It starts with the first of us all.”

The thoughts of Mynea’s journal flashed in my head.

“Vlad is where we began, Aleron.” Pandora stole the words from my lips as she released my head and stood over me. She began to pace in a slow, calculated manner, maintaining a familiar royal grace. “Vlad is where our bloodline began. You have seen this name in Mynea’s journal. Of course her journal is written in an ancient language you know nothing of. It’s a language forgotten by mortal tongue, it’s a language revealed and taught to us by our father, as all things we’ve come to know. Vlad’s eyes eventually find all of his children; you have seen them before. Yet there are limitations to his reach, which is why Mynea chose Egypt to cradle you.”

Who was this Vlad who had been in my dreams? In Mynea’s blood memories? In Pandora’s memories?

“Your thoughts and questions are expected, young prince. That’s why it’s important for you to listen and learn all that you can from me. Know that I’m not Mynea and that I won’t deceive you. Know that I’m here to teach you. Protect you. Love you. All this you’ll come to accept in time.”

She looked into the distance and continued. I remained seated on the ground, eagerly listening. “I don’t know much more than what I’m about to share with you regarding our immortal father. He doesn’t speak much of his mortal days or how he came to be, though legend has revealed a few things to me. So I must start with my first encounter with our king.”

She paused for a moment as if distracted. The illumination of her eyes was momentarily concealed by their lids. I could see her chest rise and fall, and after a sigh she continued.

“The year was 1463 when I awoke in my master’s arms. I knew tales of him before that night. I’d fallen in love with the legend of the ruler, once a prince of Wallachia, who fought tirelessly and victoriously against the Turks. I loved the tales of the vicious and unforgiving knight fighting for all Christendom, the poems of the slain prince who defied death to rise again from the grave. I fell deeply for the legend of Vlad, and for once my dreams weren’t at all dreams. They were thoughts induced by the very knight who infatuated me. Vlad, who visited my bedchamber every night for seven days, haunted my dreams. I was a young woman of tender age when he took me from my home. I begged him to take me. I prayed for him to take me. Every waking moment from the first night he came to me, I thought of nothing else. I belonged to him long before he became my master.”

She licked her lips slowly, as if reliving the first intimate encounter. “In his arms that first night, I felt a love like none other. I desperately wanted to be with him. I wanted to be with him for all eternity. Of course, at the time I didn’t truly know what I was asking for. I didn’t know what Vlad really was. I had no knowledge of his immortality. I only felt his love. My love for him was unmatched by any, save his love for me. The legends and folklore about a fallen and slain conqueror were false, for the man lay with me, and we were one flesh every night. He couldn’t have been more alive and the legends more wrong.

BOOK: Aleron: Book One of Strigoi Series (Stringoi Series)
7.26Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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