My Vampire and I (4 page)

Stoker did an excellent job of recounting the legends that surround vampirism, but he also invented a great deal in order to entertain his readers. If you recall he said we were unable to cross water. That is not so. I have crossed the oceans many, many times."

 

"What about having to sleep on the soil from your native land?"

"Another fable," he replied, chuckling. "Can you imagine having to lug boxes of dirt everywhere like Dracula did—in and out of Carfax Abbey and all the other real estate he owned? I, and my friends, had a good laugh on reading that chapter. Someone led Mr. Stoker up the proverbial garden path with that story."

"So nothing can harm you?"
He frowned, and then drank deeply from his wineglass.
"Oh yes, there are things that can harm me—kill me even."
I nodded. "A stake through the heart..."
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"Well now," he chuckled. "That would kill anyone, wouldn't it? Also, cutting off my head would do the trick. A thrust from a silver dagger. And then there is always the sunlight..."

"So, that part is not a myth."
"I'm afraid not. However, I can go out in the daytime. Over the years, I have built a certain immunity to all but the brightest of days." "But we have so many bright days in California," I said.
"It often presents a problem, but as I said, I manage."

He pushed a plate of bread and assorted cheeses towards me. Where the heck had that come from? I looked around the room, noticing for the first time that it was really magnificent.

It was big—big enough to house my entire apartment—and tastefully decorated with art deco furnishings. I had studied design at school, and that period had become a particular favourite of mine. I found myself wondering why art deco when he had lived through so many changing styles and fashions.

"The 1920s is one of my favourite decades," he said, answering my unasked question. "It was a time of celebration after a war that claimed the lives of millions of young men and women on both sides. The styles and works of art reflect that resurgence of joy, and the hope for a better future."

There was so much I could learn from him.
"Your accent," I said, helping myself from the plate.
"You're obviously not from around here."
"My accent is culled from the languages I have learned and places where I have lived over the centuries."
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Centuries ... right ... just for a little time there I had almost forgotten what this man represented. I gazed at him with a mixture of awe and just a little fear.

"What—" I had to stop to clear my throat. "What brought you to Los Angeles?"
He smiled and touched my cheek. "Relax, Roger. Please don't be afraid of me."
"I'm not ... afraid," I said. "Just a little overawed, I guess.
It's not every day a guy gets to have cheese and wine with a vampire," I added, trying for some levity.

He chuckled, and picking a small piece of cheese from the plate, held it near my lips. I accepted it, taking his fingers into my mouth, my eyes meeting his, showing my trust in him. He leaned forward, kissing me gently.

"I came to the United States almost by default," he said, after a moment or two. "Europe, Africa, Asia are vast continents, and even for someone like myself, living as I have for hundreds of years, there are places yet to be seen. Still, I longed for new adventure, and I had heard of this new land, wild and untamed."

"You mean West Hollywood, right?" What a wit I am.
He smiled patiently. "Not quite."
"So, you're talking about the wild west and all that stuff?"
"Something like that. But you asked why I came to LA.

That was a recent decision. I've been here only a matter of months. A great deal of my time has been spent learning modern English. I didn't want to appear too much of an antique every time I addressed someone."

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"I love the way you talk," I said, meaning every word. "I could listen to you all day and night."
"Thank you and I will return the compliment by saying I could
look
at you, all day and night."
Wow. I cleared my throat again. "You said earlier there was a time when you longed for death..."

"First, I should tell you how I came to be what I am. I was twenty-five when I was changed. The man who made me was a stranger my father had given hospitality to for the night. A handsome man, Polonius, and one to whom I felt drawn. I was to be married in a month—" "To a woman?" I interjected, my mouth full of bread and cheese.

"Yes, Roger, to a woman. It was expected of me. My father was a Senator of Rome. I would be expected to follow in his footsteps, marry, have children. I had done my stint in the army, fighting the barbarians—a losing battle I'm afraid, as your history books no doubt informed you." So that's where he'd gotten that magnificent body—he'd been a fighting soldier. Again, I felt the heat in my groin as I imagined him wearing a centurion's uniform, bare thighs flashing in the sunlight. Ooh, baby ... Russell Crowe, forget it.

"Anyway," he continued, "that night, he came to my room.

 

He made love to me in a way no one before had. I knew married life had no allure for me, but after this incredible experience, it held even less. Polonius sensed it in me and asked me if I wanted to share his life. When I acquiesced, he told me some of what was involved."

"And you agreed..."
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"You're quick, Roger."
"Sorry, that was dumb..."
He drew me into his arms and kissed me—hard.

"You are adorable. Not dumb at all," he said. He held me as he continued, and I snuggled against him, my head on his chest. "We left the next morning before the servants were up.

Over the course of the next few days, he changed me from a mortal man into what you now see."
A magnificent specimen
, I thought.
"A vampire," he said. "And a fledging one then, at that.
Almost immediately, Polonius left me without schooling me in the ways of survival, without telling me of what I should be aware." "But why, Marcus?" I sat up and stared at him. "Why would he do such a terrible thing?"

"Fear, I think. Fear of what he'd done. I have since discovered he had been changed only a few months before he came to my home. His master had cast him out, for what reason I do not know. I never saw him again. That, to me, has always been an amazement. In all these centuries of my existence, not once have I come close to finding him—not even hearing his name. I have to imagine that, somehow, death came to him."

"Is that when you longed for death?"

 

"Oh no, not then, at least, not right away. I was young, strong, arrogant—sure of myself and my will to survive. I had been a soldier, as I said. I knew how to respond to danger.

What I did not know was what I discovered in the most painful ways imaginable.
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"It was winter when I was made. The days were short and overcast, the nights long and inviting. I found I needed to sleep during the day and come alive at night. Then, I would frequent the taverns and meeting places of the poets and philosophers. I accepted the invitations of the rich and the indolent to dine in their fine houses. It took me some time to realise I was not like other men. Eventually, the food they presented me made me nauseated, the wine turned my stomach—"

"But you're drinking it now," I interrupted, as is my way.
He nodded. "I have had many years to accustom myself—
and my body—to the ways of other men. This would prove to be why I have survived for so long. You can be a stranger, but not strange.

"But Roger, imagine my horror when I discovered that what I craved was not the fine food laid before me but the blood that coursed through the veins of those who dined with me."

"Yeah, that must have been a moment."
"Indeed," he said with a chuckle. "It was a moment I have never forgotten."
"So, you do need blood to survive?"
"Of course. I am a vampire. That has not changed and never shall. Believe me, I have sought the supposed cure all my life. It does not exist. In that," he added with a rueful smile, "Ann Rice was right."

I think it was at that moment, when his eyes took on a distant look, when he looked so vulnerable and just a little lost, that I fell in love with him. The realisation made me gasp 37

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with shock. He looked at me, a question in those dark green eyes. It was the measure of the man that he chose not to read my very private thoughts at that moment.

"Have I said something to upset you?" he asked, touching my cheek with his fingertips.
"No, of course not," I said. "I was just caught up in what you've been telling me."
"I'm glad I'm not boring you."
"
Boring
me?" I looked at him with wide eyes. "This is the most incredible night of my entire life, Marcus."
I took his hand and kissed the palm. He pulled me into his arms.
"Has anyone ever told you that you are a very beautiful young man?" he asked, his lips on my hair.
"Uh..." I thought for a moment. The words cute, cuddlesome, came to mind, but beautiful? Uh-uh ... "I don't think so," I said, finally.

"Well, let me be the first—although I find it amazing that no one else has." His hands stroked and caressed my body as he spoke, sending visceral thrills through me. "You have the most wonderful blue eyes," he said softly. "Hair like gold spun silk—"

 

"Wait a minute..." I couldn't stop the laughter that bubbled up inside me. "You're getting a little carried away, aren't you?" I lifted my head to look at him. He was frowning. "I mean..." I faltered for a moment. "Hair like silk ...
mine
?"

"You underestimate yourself, Roger. In my eyes, you are beautiful. I hope that does not make you uncomfortable."
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"No, no ... it doesn't." I sat up and knelt in front of him, gazing at him earnestly. "It's just that I can't quite believe all of this. You ... me ... here in this ... this amazing place. I'm just ordinary, Marcus. You are the extraordinary one.

 

Beautiful, alluring, mesmerising ... I could go on and on about your attributes, but I'm sure you've been told this hundreds of times before. I don't have enough words ... there aren't enough words to describe you, or what I feel for you."

 

I stopped yammering, not because I'd run out of things to say, believe me, but because of tears had suddenly sprung to his eyes. Vampires cry real tears?

 

"Marcus?" I reached out and touched his face, wiping away the tear that fell slowly down his cheek. "What did I say? I'm so sorry. It's just that—" With a sound between a sob and a growl, he launched himself upon me, pinning me on my back while his glistening eyes searched my face. Then he lowered his body until it covered mine completely, and his mouth captured mine in a kiss that threatened to sear itself on my lips forever.

I rolled him over onto his back, cradled him in my arms and covered his face and chest with hot, wet kisses, while he writhed in sensuous pleasure beneath me. I had suddenly become the aggressor, responding to the need inside me to fulfil him, to make him feel whole and to free him from what I was now sure had been a long and lonely existence. The rest of his story could wait. I wanted to make love to him in every possible way.

I grasped his cock. It was already hard, pulsing in my hand as if begging for release. I wrapped my lips around the head, 39 My Vampire and I
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then very slowly pulled him into my mouth, letting the long, thick shaft slide down my throat, until my face was buried in his pubic hair. I heard him moan softly. His hands ruffled my hair, stroked the sides of my face, caressed my shoulders. He raised his hips slightly, and I slipped my hands under his buttocks, massaging the firm flesh and letting my fingers stray towards the opening between the cheeks. He bore down, and my middle finger slid inside him. My lips travelled back up the length of his throbbing cock, my tongue swirling around the head, then I took it all in again. I reached for the lube, spread a good amount on my fingers then reinserted them into his anus.

"May I fuck you?" I asked, with a shy smile.

 

"You may."

 

I'd never gone bareback before. I knew I was negative, but one can never be too careful. However Marcus had said he was immune to disease, so...

He lifted his legs over my shoulders, allowing me access and I went for the gold. His legs hugged me, pulling me into his warm depths. Looking down on his face, caught in the moment of ecstasy, it was easy to forget, for the moment, that I was making love to a vampire. How could this beautiful, charming man be one of the living dead? He looked so vibrant. So alive.

I felt a stinging slap on my right butt cheek.

 

"Ow!" Then, another on my left ... Ow, again! "Marcus, what the—" He grinned up at me, cupping my buttocks with his big hands, pulling me in deeper.

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Another slap, this time on both sides of my butt, at the same time.
"Cut it out!"

But I had to admit it was kinda exhilarating. I was thrusting harder, my balls slapping against his ass cheeks as I rode him. He writhed under me, grabbing my arms in a vice-like grip. I pulled back until only the tip of my cock was inside him, then I slammed home, pounding away like a demented dervish.

"Yes, Roger! Fuck me, fuck me!"
The sweat poured off my forehead, dripping onto his face.

He grabbed me by the back of my head and pulled me down, his lips scorching mine with a kiss so intense, I lost all control. I felt myself climax— again and again.

 

Holy God. I'd never had a gusher like that in my entire life.

Marcus held my convulsing body pressed tightly to his, his arms and legs locking me to him, then with one swift movement he had upended me, holding me by my ankles, driving his unsated, steel-hard rod into me. For a moment, I struggled against this unexpected invasion, but with each push of his pelvis, I opened to him, holding him, meeting every throbbing thrust with my own.

"Roger...!" He cried out my name as he came in long, wrenching spasms. I felt as though I had been split in two, so violent had our mating been. He collapsed on top of me, and I held him, pressing my lips to his neck, nibbling his earlobe, whispering how fantastic he was and how much I loved him.