Resurrected (5 page)

Chapter 4

(Deirdra - December 6,
1999)

A quiet
rage filled me when I woke. I saw the man again, the creature
not-of–this-world. I may be undead, but I
am
of this world. I hadn’t been able
to physically see him, only sense his presence through the mortals
that passed by me. And through their minds, it was as though he
were using them to alert me of his presence. The first time I had
seen him, I was confounded. This man was more unnatural looking
than I, but was so angelic. His presence angered me, though it
brought me a strange sense of peace. All these emotions this
angelic man stirred inside me seemed so foreign to me. Since I had
no name or any means of identity for him, I instinctively referred
to him as Angel for my own sanity’s sake. This time he appeared to
me while I hunted in a local Goth club, Dark Wave Knights, on St.
Laurent and Des Pins. He had kept his distance from me, wavering in
and out of view. Just as I was about to make my way over to a young
man who I had picked to be my dinner, Angel’s voice boomed in my
head.

“No
!”

I stopped mid-stride,
looked around the bar and saw no one of my kind. This confirmed it
was Angel that had entered my mind. I straightened my body and slid
away from the mortals making their way to the dance floor. Leaning
against the wall I began to speak to this being
silently.

“Who are
you
?
What do you
want of me
?” I asked him desperately,
looking around the club for him. No answer. I waited as long as my
patience allowed and went off in search of my
prey.

“If he is too frightened to
speak to me with more than one word, with less than a minute of
visual contact; then he is not worth my time,” I mumbled to myself.
I needed this time away from Chantonnay to be as pleasant as
possible. Everyone had changed so much in the past weeks, many of
us unrecognizable from who we once were. The horrible entity still
lingered over our home, poisoning us, and Stone, Brenna, Kristine,
and Eme all remained missing.

After locating my prey
again, I headed onto the dance floor. The booming bass vibrated
inside my chest. I loved the intensity of singer’s low, unearthly
voice. As I moved between the dancers, I was amused by their idea
of what they thought I was–just another vampire fanatic like them.
Some were dressed in black leather pants or skirts, others in old,
decrepit outfits. Most of them painted their faces, and some had
tiny fangs glued to their teeth. Some of the more hard-core Goths
had actually put caps on their teeth.

As I moved in closer to my
young man, I began to gyrate with the rest of them, moving to the
rhythm. Before he knew it, I was dancing with him. Our bodies
dangerously close I felt his excitement as we swayed to the music
together. It didn’t take much for him to forget about the
girlfriend he had come with, and out of the corner of my eye I saw
her approaching us.

“You asshole!” she yelled
at the top of her lungs. The boy glanced at her, shrugging his
shoulders.

“What?” he said, and
continued dancing with me. His mortal mind being so open to
suggestion, he was easy to manipulate, and eventually the girl
stomped off in a huff.

I danced closer to him, his
body hot and sweaty. His breath was heavy with anticipation. He
began to grope me and I reciprocated, exciting him like no one
could.

I leaned in close to him
and whispered in his ear, “Shall we go somewhere to be alone?” His
face revealed his simultaneous shock and joy. I had to smile at his
reaction, though I had seen it before. I do not enjoy preying on
the young, but there was just something about him. He tempted me in
a way that I could not resist. I had to have him. I didn’t wait for
an answer. The expression on his face was enough of an assent for
me. Grabbing his arm, I pulled him off the dance floor and into the
cold night air.

The snow had finally
stopped, but the temperature had dropped and it was bitterly cold.
Once outside in the dark alley, he began to grope me and explore my
body. I let him enjoy himself, because unfortunately this would be
an experience he would not have the opportunity to remember. He
leaned in to kiss me and as he did I placed my hands on both of his
cheeks, kissing him with intense erotic desire. The taste and smell
of his salty skin, the aroma of his cologne and his blood teased my
senses. I pulled away looking at him with fierce, passionate eyes.
I whispered to him softly, “Thank you.”

My lips moved to his neck,
my teeth breaking the flesh, causing his blood to shoot into my
mouth. He cried out in pain only briefly, as he soon joined me in
my rapture. I moaned in ecstasy and holding him in my arms I fell
down to the snow-covered ground, my body enveloping his. But my
bliss always seemed to come too soon. I forced myself to withdraw
from him before I had taken too much. I would not kill him. I no
longer killed anyone I fed off of, taking only what I needed to
survive.

I looked down at the boy,
gazing up at me, barely conscious. He was drained of all energy as
well as his blood, and appeared pale and tired.

“You were never with me.
You passed out in one of the back rooms,” I said to him gently,
“the mix of drugs and alcohol was too much.” I brought my hand up
and brushed it across his face as I placed the idea into his mind,
“Sleep.” And he did.

With quick and easy
movements, I picked him up. Walking him back inside, I placed him
in one of the back rooms, trying not to disturb the couple that was
occupying it. I stroked his face one last time, and left. Even
though my hunger was appeased, I would delay heading back to
Chantonnay. I dreaded having to return home.

Walking through the streets
of Old Montreal, the snow began to fall again lightly. Suddenly I
felt Angel’s presence again causing my body to vibrate slightly,
like an electricity of excitement. I stopped, leaned my back
against the wall of an old bank, and waited.

“So are you going to show
yourself to me this time?” I asked aloud. I could not see him, but
I could feel him. He was close, and he made my body flutter in a
way no vampire ever had. I still didn’t know what exactly he was,
and that angered me. Furthermore, what did he want with
me?

“Well?” I asked again,
becoming impatient. “Just tell me what you want from
me.”

Suddenly I heard footsteps
crunching in the snow. My head turned in the direction of the
sound. Trying to keep my composure, I stayed where I was, not
moving a muscle. I watched him approach me. He was an average-sized
man, dressed in a long beige trench coat with his collar pulled up.
He wore black slacks and turtleneck, and his auburn straight hair
cascaded around his pale face, framing his hazel eyes. By the time
he had made his way over to me I was speechless. He had no scent at
all, no cologne, no sweat, no blood; nothing. His hands in his
pockets he stared at me for what seemed like an eternity. I
couldn’t take it anymore.

“Who
are
you?” I asked. I was greeted with more silence. I bowed my
head and crossed my arms. I waited several more minutes before
hearing his response.

“You are right; I am not
like you. I once was like you though.” His voice was so tender,
very gentle.

I looked up at him,
confused and curious, “You used to be a vampire?”

“Yes, but that was many
years ago. I am here to help you,” he answered, his voice so soft
it was soothing. We looked at each other silently for a few more
moments.

“Hmm, I don’t even miss
it,” he mumbled mainly to himself, looking at me and shaking his
head.

“Miss what?” I
questioned.

“The blood. The death of
innocent mortals.”

I looked at him curiously.
He was so strange. Enigmatic would be the best way to describe him.
He appeared fierce, yet at the same time it was hard to imagine he
could even hurt a fly. And he was alluring in a way that was not
sexual.

“Help me? How? Do you even
know what my problem is?” I asked him, arching my
eyebrow.

He grinned at my remark,
“Well, you would be surprised at what I know about your situation.”
His response threw me. All I could think now was what he knew of my
family’s crisis and of me.

“You have been following me
for some time now, haven’t you?” I looked into his piercing eyes,
his face revealed his empathy.

“Yes, I have. And I have
come to you now to warn you.” He paused. His eyes looked down at
me, so sad. “He wants you. Adam is looking for a bride.”

“
Adam?” I asked, shaking
my head in confusion. “Who’s Adam? What does he wants with
me?”

For the first time, Angel’s
gaze left mine. Turning to look down the street, fear replaced his
sadness. He turned back, “I must go.” He walked quickly in the
opposite direction

I called out to him, “Wait!
You have to tell me more!” My cries quieted, “I don’t understand.”
After one final look he disappeared around the corner.

I couldn’t move. The whole
episode had stunned me. My curiosity had been replaced with fear.
Unconsciously I turned back towards home.

Walking up the steps of
Chantonnay, the warm air caressed me as I entered the foyer. I
removed my coat and let it fall beside the bench, not bothering to
hang it. My mind was numb. I did not know what to think or do
anymore. The house was quiet and I refused to use my senses to
explore whether anyone was at home. I did not care. I headed to the
large stairway without so much as an upward glance. I could feel
the sun about to rise, and that was fine by me. All I wanted to do
was sleep.

However, unable to receive
a restful slumber, I woke feeling agitated. My day was spent
dreaming about Angel. Having now spoken with him, having seen him
up close, I knew that I would be unable to keep him out of my mind.
His image was etched in my brain. His voice rang in my ears and I
could recall his perfume. Odd, since I had been sure he did not
possess a noticeable scent the night before. But he did–a pleasant,
warm smell, like Jasmine or the sweet aroma of nicotine.

I sat up in my bed and
swung my legs over the edge. I sighed, disappointed to awake still
feeling so tired. As I sat there, I closed my eyes to listen to the
sounds of the house. It was still deathly quiet. Climbing out of
bed, I headed for the bathroom. My nerves frayed, I felt my anger
grow. I hopped in the shower, hoping the scorching heat of the
water would wash away my uncertainty. I hated not being able to
understand what was happening. I was surrounded by a proverbial
darkness that seemed to be consuming me and I loathed not knowing
what was at the root of it. Was it Angel that was tainting me? Or
was it my family that was contaminating my mood with their issues?
By the time I had dried myself off and dressed, my mood had become
more soured.

I made my way through the
halls, down the empty staircase and to the living quarters. Seeing
the fireplace bare of flames, I was instantly disappointed. Despite
there being no fire, I sat down onto the couch and stared into
nothingness. Sitting there, listening to the clock ticking I felt
my anger, bitterness and hatred churn; a wave of nausea overtook
me.

Flying from my spot on the
couch I ran to the main floor powder room and for the first time in
over two hundred years, I retched. As soon as I felt the nausea
dissipate, I rose to my feet. Still feeling shaky I immediately
flushed the red waste down the toilet. Having unconsciously wiped
at my mouth, red was smeared across the back of my hand. I began to
wash it away, scrubbing and scrubbing. The whole episode had
frightened me. My mind spun with questions and the need to be with
Mylana, Lacroix or even Elijah became a priority. Feeling somewhat
calmer, I grabbed my coat and walked out into the cold night
air.

As the sleek black mustang
carried me just outside the iron gates of Chantonnay, I spotted
Elijah walking. His shoulders and head were covered with a thin
layer of snow even though it had stopped some time ago. After
inching the car closer to him I stopped, hopped out and immediately
went over to him. He did not acknowledge my presence, not even when
I touched his shoulders to dust off the snow.

“Elijah, what’s wrong?” I
asked but was apprehensive to hear his response. I didn’t know what
to think. He had changed so much since Eme had disappeared. As he
peered into my eyes, fear seemed to grip him fiercely. I tried to
keep myself grounded, but to no avail. I found myself quickly
falling into a pit of confusion.

“Elijah, please. What is
it? Tell me!” I demanded. His mouth began to move but he seemed to
have a hard time finding the words.

“
He’s
here,” Elijah finally replied. His
demeanour
had
changed from one of fear to one of defeat.

“Who’s here?” I stepped
closer to him and wrapped my arms around his waist, needing to be
close to him. I looked up at his face, waiting for him to
respond.

“Adam…”

“Adam?” Letting go of him,
I took a step back.