Resurrected (11 page)

Without warning, the
vampire from the crowd broke Eme from her bloodlust, his voice
resonating in her head.

“Run!”

Eme ran.
Running across the great length of the Coliseum, she spotted a wall
where no people were seated. Like a cat, Eme jumped the eight-foot
wall with ease. Pausing for a moment, she turned and took one last
look at the gathered people of Rome. Eme knew she wouldn’t be back
anytime soon. Leaping off the wall to land gracefully on her feet,
Eme began to sprint through the city. Shedding her
armour
as she ran, she left herself clothed only in the
torn and bloodied toga.

A good distance from the
Coliseum, she slowed to a fast-paced walk. She would keep walking
until she could no longer, for the sun was quickly approaching the
horizon. Having only her own thoughts as her companion for the past
year, the idea of another vampire filled Eme with curiosity and she
marveled at the thought of him. Did her brothers Elijah and Ezra
know of him? She had hoped that he would find her but also feared
that this night was the only encounter they were meant to have.
With each passing moment, her mind filled with questions that she
wished to ask him.

Chapter 10

(Brenna – December 7,
1999)

Slamming the door shut,
Brenna chained together a few choice words that would make any
sailor blush. She had had enough. Brenna couldn’t understand why
Adam wanted Deirdra so bad.

“He could easily have me. I
could be his damn Queen. Why doesn’t he want me?” Brenna
growled.

“Perfect, precious
Deirdra…”

Making her way to the bed,
she picked up a bottle of perfume and hurled it at the wall. The
liquids splattered as the bottle smashed. In a fit, Brenna flung
the rest of the contents off the dresser and against the wall. With
a final cry of outrage, she fell onto the bed, her anger causing
her to breathe heavily.

Adam had not known about
Stone’s escape until Kristine let it slip. Brenna paid for her
misfortune with his fury, which she was still recovering from. His
rage was so strong that any mere mortal would have died moments
into the beating. As her erratic thoughts filled her head like
static noise, she twitched remembering Adam’s vengeance. Once
Brenna’s vision came back and she was finally able to walk again,
she paid Stone a visit. Unleashing her anger on him, she left him
unconscious, but alive. It had been four days since anyone had
checked on him. Deciding she should make sure he hadn’t died and
his body wasn’t rotting, Brenna slid off the bed and sighed. She
was not about to pay for the consequence of his death.

Pausing outside Stone’s
prison, Brenna listened to see if he was still alive. His breathing
was faint. She could tell he was lying on the cot motionless. She
opened the door and stepped into the room. There was Stone, either
asleep or unable to open his eyes, for they were still rather
swollen. He lay on his back, his arms at his sides and the blanket
only covering him to his waist, revealing his bare chest. His skin
was somewhat sallow and pale. His lips had a tinge of blue to them,
as did his fingertips and dark purple circled his eyes. Walking
slowly towards him, Stone flinched. With a hoarse voice he tried to
speak, but it came out only a whisper.

“No… no more.”

As Brenna leaned over
Stone’s battered body, she reached out to touch his swollen cheek.
Stone didn’t move. She could feel his fear and hear his thoughts–he
wanted to die. Brenna felt tremendous guilt, for it was she who had
put him into this fatal situation, it was her idea that had led to
him being abducted. However, she never meant for it to go this far
and so out of control. She found herself needing to be forgiven, or
at least to fix it, for good or bad. Brenna couldn’t handle looking
at this once bright and vibrant young man who now lay waiting for
death to rescue him. She still had feelings for him and this began
to wreak havoc on her conscience. She felt a bond with this man,
her affection building with each sip of his luscious life-blood,
even if it had not been reciprocated.

Leaning in, she reached her
arm over his lower chest and rested her hand on the cot. Hovering
over him, Brenna nuzzled her face into the crook of his neck. His
flesh was cold and clammy. Brenna could hear fluid in his lungs,
most likely blood from the beating. Her fangs pierced his skin and
his vital fluid began to flow into her mouth. She drank deeply but
gently, so as not to hurt him any further. He moaned in pain;
Brenna moaned in ecstasy.

It didn’t take long before
the rhythm of Stone’s heart weakened and became nearly
non-existent. Brenna pulled away from him, licking the blood from
her lips. She looked between Stone and her wrist. As though in
reverie, she sliced her flesh with her fingernail and blood began
to trickle down her arm. She then placed the wound over Stone’s
lips and let her blood drip into his mouth. She sat paralyzed, her
body tense–she could not believe what she was doing. Time seemed to
pause, it felt like an eternity before she felt Stone move. His
lips suddenly pressed against her wrist and Brenna jumped up off
the bed.

“What the hell am I doing?”
Brenna’s eyes darted from side to side, as though looking for an
escape. She knew she could run out the door but something held her
there steadfast. She couldn’t leave him now–the bond between the
two of them held her there. Walking back to Stone, she re-opened
the already healing wound and placed it over his lips once more. As
his tongue lapped up her blood, his strength grew. Staring at Stone
as he fed from her, Brenna was overrun by erotic desire as this boy
took her essence into himself. As his moaning grew with each
swallow, she pulled him closer to herself. With her free hand,
Brenna caressed him feeling love and lust for him like she never
had before. Stone’s arm flew up, jolting her from her delight. He
reached for her wrist and held onto it painfully, making her jump.
Brenna cried out, but was unable to pull her wrist out of his firm
grip. Her eyes widened with fear and awe at his
strength.

Stone suddenly sat upright
and pulled Brenna closer to him, fully grasping her arm now. In his
fervor, he tore at her flesh with his teeth, opening the wound even
more. She yelled out in pain and again tried to pull away, but he
held strong. Brenna began to feel the pull on her veins from his
feeding.

“Stop!” she yelled. Brenna
tried to push him away but her strength was exhausted by his
feeding. The moment she felt his grip lessen, Brenna pulled herself
away, falling off the bed to the floor. Scrambling on the floor,
she managed to back away from Stone who still sat on the cot, now
eerily still.

Brenna held onto her wrist,
pressing it against her chest. Slow-moving, she rose to her feet
and stared at him. The murmurs of his thoughts began to fade–then
silence. She remembered this had happened between Deirdra and
herself. All that filled her head now was her own
thoughts.

She became nervous with
each passing moment as Stone sat there. Brenna could see the subtle
changes happening already. The deep bronze of his skin was already
paler and the ruddiness had left his cheeks. The swelling
disappeared around his eyes. The bruising lessened and became pale,
fading to nothing before her very eyes. Soon there were no traces
of the beating or previous feedings.

Finally, Stone began to
move. He looked about his dungeon of a room, then at the whiteness
of his hands, arms and bare chest. He turned his gaze to Brenna and
a fear of him filled her. She stepped back. There was something
about the situation that had gone wrong. His eyes were filled with
resentment.

“I didn’t want this… I
never did,” Stone spoke.

“But…” Brenna was unable to
think of anything worth saying, so she said nothing
more.

“Don’t expect me to be
grateful; I still hate you. I will always hate you.”

Stone rose from the cot and
began walking towards her. As he approached, Brenna retreated until
she bumped into the wall. Stone reached out, grabbing Brenna by the
throat. Lifting her off the ground, he threw her with ease. She
landed hard against the cement wall crying out in pain, but Stone
didn’t care. He reached for her, stood her up, and with the back of
his hand hit the side of her face. He could hear the bones crack.
Blood began to trickle from her nose.

“You are going to pay for
what you did to me,” Stone hissed. He pulled her away from the wall
and pushed her to the floor, his body holding her down. Stone bit
down on Brenna’s neck despite the fact his fangs were not yet
present. Her vein burst as his teeth tore her flesh open. She
kicked, hit and tried to push him off, but Brenna was weakened by
the lack of blood. She could feel herself fade away, with not even
enough strength to keep her eyes open.

Suddenly, he flew off of
her as though she were made of fire. Unable to move or see what was
happening, Brenna lay there vulnerable. To any mortal she would
have appeared dead. Engulfed in pain and fear, she felt herself
disappear into nothingness.

Stone now sat on the cold
hard floor a few feet away from the paralyzed Brenna, his knees up
to his chest and eyes wide with fear and sorrow. Like all fledgling
vampires, he was experiencing a range of deadly emotion and pain.
The experience is both mentally and physically agonizing for all
vampires at the moment of their transformation. One cannot help but
believe that they are experiencing their final death.

When the pain subsided,
Stone rose to his feet and walked past Brenna, his heart full of
sorrow and anger. Exiting the room, he raced down the corridors to
freedom. As he ran out the back door he didn’t care that he was
shirtless and shoeless: all he wanted was to escape that
hellhole.

Chapter 11

(Deirdra – December 18,
1999)

Like a haunting sorrow, I
passed through the empty halls of La Maison Chantonnay. I had not
seen Elijah for almost a fortnight and Lacroix had given up trying
to find Kristine. He headed back to Paris, alone. However, not
being able to find his fledgling was not the only reason for his
sudden departure. Lacroix had found me two nights earlier in the
dining hall, doing just that, dining on a homeless family of three
that I had found. The delight I experienced while savoring their
lifeblood filled me fully and completely with a sensation of
superiority.

Lacroix walked in on me.
Hearing him enter I looked up, not caring that my mouth was smeared
with blood from the mother I was drawing nearer to death.
Horrified, he was unable to speak at first, his mouth
agape.

“What are
you doing? How dare you bring these mortals into our home? Such
blasphemy! You are
never
to bring home mortals that are to be our food!
You
know
this.
What is wrong with you?”

Lacroix
took a step back. His fear was evident as hiseyes scanned the room
further. Lacroix saw a child around the age of six, lying on the
wooden floor like a rag doll with one arm curved around her head
and the other resting across her chest. There was no life in this
wee child. Near the girl the father lay on the floor, his limbs
clearly broken and mangled, but still alive. Returning his gaze to
me, I could see the look of shock and horror in his eyes. Unable to
hold back the
humour
I found in his horrified
features, I released a full-bellied laugh. Loosening my grip on the
dying woman, I let her fall recklessly to the hard wooden floor. At
the sound of the thud, Lacroix jumped.

“What is it Lacroix? Does
this bother you? We need to feed Lacroix. Are you getting soft in
your old age?” I smirked as I stepped over the woman and walked
towards him. Standing inches away from him, I looked into his
piercing green eyes. I grazed the soft white skin of his
cheek.

“Have you ever wondered
what I taste like, Lacroix? Have you ever wanted me, like I want
you now?”

Speechless, he caressed my
hand. He closed his eyes, soaking up the attention. As I slipped my
hand away from his face I took a hold of his. Bringing the inside
of his wrist to my mouth, I grazed his cold flesh with my lips. I
looked up at him and I took pleasure in the look of shock in his
eyes. I enjoyed the fact that he tried to hide his concern, fear
and growing arousal.

Playfully I licked his
wrist. He did nothing to stop me.

I grazed my fangs against
his flesh. He did nothing to stop me.

To further my excitement, I
let my fangs ever so slightly pierce his skin. He did
nothing.

With absolute delight, I
lapped up the sweet nectar that was his immortal blood.

Realizing what was
happening Lacroix stammered and jerked his wrist from my
grasp.

“My God!
What is happening to you? And me, for that matter?” He began
backing away from me. I watched as he searched for a way out. He
shook his head. “
This is
insane
,” his thought screamed in my head
and he began to walk past me. Just a few feet from the doorway, I
turned and leapt towards him. He grunted as I slammed him against
the frame.