Sips of Blood (24 page)

"Too hot. Too cold. I'll never be just right.
Mom, you're never happy."

"Don't get smart. I worry about you."

"Mom, I'm fine. I didn't get enough sleep
last night, so I want to lie down."

"Well, tonight there'll be no running around
for you. You can cancel your date with Joe and get to bed at a
decent hour."

Cecelia's arms and back ached. Perhaps she
should cancel tonight. But no, she wouldn't. He would be waiting at
the cabin. Her dry mouth needed one more sip. One more drop of his
blood.

"You know what? I'm really not so tired. Why
don't I go back to the store and pick up the things I forgot?"

"And who will drive you?"

"Joe. He's probably home now."

Matilda sighed.

"Oh, for heaven's sake, take a nap and see
him tonight. No sense running yourself into the ground." Matilda
pulled her daughter close for a hug.

While slipping her arms around her mother,
Cecelia noticed a heightened awareness of her mother's body odor. A
mix of sweat and stale cologne. A touch of cleanser and...

Suddenly she became aware of her mother's
pulse, the steady throb expanding and contracting her mother's
fleshy neck, the bubble and gurgle of surging blood. Cecelia
nuzzled into her mother's neck, savoring the scent and vibration.
She licked the pulsing flesh, and her mother pulled away.

"What are you doing acting like a little
puppy? Go off, nap, and see your Joe tonight. I should be happy
anyway that you've lost interest in Mr. Sade."

Chapter 45

Dampness surrounded Liliana. Caught in a
whirlpool of blood, splattering the leaves, splattering the earth.
Soaking her clothes and skin.

Piercing cries. Frightened squeaks.

Life fluttering away in her hands.
Struggling. Twitching. Still.

What rodent had she just thrown away? Dazed,
she couldn't center her vision on her surroundings. Didn't want
to.

A rat. A mouse. Something bigger in her
hands. Something that clawed and fought. As long as it was not
human but had a pulse.

She ravaged animal after animal at the edge
of the forest near the cemetery.

The cemetery.

Her stomach rumbled. It roiled. But her mouth
seemed eternally parched. No amount of blood appeased the hunger.
She sucked on furry flesh. Bits of hair caught in her throat. Mites
and fleas tickled her nostrils. She sneezed and felt bits of flesh
hit her hands.

Liliana fell to her knees and began her
predator crawl, sensing life deep in the shrubbery, deep in the
earth.

Her fingers scratched at the soil. Dirt
crusted under her bloody fingernails.

She sniffed the air and heard the crackle of
a branch.

She sprang and pounced on an animal. Her
fangs sunk into the flesh, ripping out the throat. Shivers. The
giving up of a life. Nosing into the wound, Liliana caught the odor
of fresh kill. The stink enhanced her appetite. The taste would
always be inferior. She recalled savoring the live kill of a
particular man long ago. The richness of his blood, the viscous
volume of blood, the peace that came with holding the man near. The
rush of power. Winning the battle without a struggle. He had come
passionately into her arms, stroking her body with large rough
hands, entering her, as she tensed her muscles.

The animal slipped from her hands. Only a
token sacrifice, only a temporary satiation of hunger.

She sat on a bundle of leaves and looked
around. Tiny misshapen bodies circled her, unrecognizable animals
already starting to rot, already sending out pungent invitations to
the maggots and ants and worms and other scavengers.

She touched her wet cheeks, wet with blood,
not with tears, primal blood that dripped from her jaws. She looked
at her hands and began to clean them. Licking the waste away, she
preened and fidgeted, aware of the compromising scene. The chirping
birds had fled; a single crow that cawed out its song remained.

A short distance away a stream flowed. She
slipped out of her tainted clothes and stood, naked. After she
bathed she would burn her jeans and tank top. Always she kept a
change of clothes in the car. Better to be discovered naked than
slick with sin.

No path led to the stream, but her senses
guided her. Within a few paces of the stream a breeze carried the
coolness of the water. She relaxed into the cold swirling
water.

The soles of her feet seemed padded,
protected against the pebbles and stones underfoot. She squatted,
then scooped up handfuls of water to bathe. Her thighs, still
sticky with David's semen, spread apart, allowing her to drip the
cold water across her mons.

Tadpoles wriggled around her feet. Gritty
pebbles sprouted between her toes. She bent over and lapped at the
water, cleansing her mouth. Never would she be able to cleanse her
soul. Her soul would forever be bound to the earth both spiritually
and physically; she rotted and rejuvenated within the confines of
this world. The love she made would always be spare, limited to
urges for blood and death.

A song sounded above her head. An
overreaching limb supported a swallow. The lilt of his tune seemed
normal even while the blood colored the stream.

She increased the pace of her movements,
wanting to be rid of her history. Wanting to make believe
again.

She played at having a normal family. Often
her uncle laughed at her and teased her, but always he protected
her.

"If you didn't allow her to feed from
animals, she would have to get over her ridiculous aversion to
taking blood from living humans." Her grandmother made this
statement to her uncle when she thought that Liliana could not
hear.

Her uncle had taken away her humanity, but
there existed a
soupçon
of guilt in his soul. His touch
frequently reminded her of that. Guilt, however, never clouded her
grandmother's soul. Instead, if it were not for Uncle Donatien,
Grandmother would pull everyone's strings for an eternity.

Dusk covered the forest with a pall. The
trees appeared to stoop in the shadows. Branches reached out at
abnormal angles, deformed by the decreasing light. The leaves would
hide as one among themselves. The grass would take on the blackness
of night, but the gurgle of the stream would penetrate the dark
with its own hysteria, slipping over rocks, cradling tadpoles, and
absolving the treachery that had defiled it. The stream ran clear
again, casting away the sludge of life.

Chapter 46

Sade slammed the door shut on his Jaguar and
breathed in the crisp night air. He felt refreshed--no,
invigorated--by his evening with Cecelia.
La pauvre fille
would certainly be hoarse tomorrow from all the screaming she did
tonight. He smiled and flexed his hands. His grasp on the whip had
been too tight. The knuckles of his hands hurt. He had switched
hands frequently to vary the strength of the whipping. His right
hand never seemed to have the stamina and power of his left.

For a taste of his blood
la fille
would submit to anything.

His silk shirt ruffled slightly in the breeze
as he walked to the front door of his house. From the corner of his
eye he noticed David's car.
Splendid,
he thought.
More
than one of us will be content this night.

The door had been left unlocked, and Sade
made a boisterous entrance into the front hall. A vaguely familiar
voice filled the house with a grating yip. And kept right on
yipping even when scooped into Liliana's arms.

"Uncle, how do you like our watchdog?"

"La chiennne,"
Sade whispered.

"Meet Ginger. Ginger, my Uncle Donatien."
Liliana waved one of the dog's paws at Sade.

Sade's chest puffed up to utter a loud
condemnation.

"Arrête de faire l'idiote."

"Sir." David stood in the doorway next
Liliana. "I didn't mean to cause any problems. Just that I knew how
Liliana liked to take care of stray animals.

"Elle suce leur sang!"

"Uncle," Liliana screamed.

Sade caught his breath and calmed
himself.

"Je suis vraiment navré."

"In English, Uncle."

"I apologize for my ghastly behavior, but
that dog reminds me of another."

"Sir, originally the dog belonged to one of
my downstairs neighbors, Mrs. MacManus. They found her dead just
today."

"Quelle tragédie!"

"Yes, it was, Mr. Sade. She wasn't always
pleasant, but still she came to a sad end. Seems she must have
fallen and broken her neck."

"Enough! Why don't we go back into the living
room? Uncle?"

"Yes, of course." Sade shook out his blousy
silk sleeves and led the group into the living room. "Tell me,
David, how did you manage to inherit
la chienne?"

"Excuse me?"

"The dog. He wants to know how you came by
Ginger."

"Picked her up in our apartment building hall
a while ago. Thought it strange when the days went by and no Mrs.
MacManus appeared to claim her dog. I had stuck a note under her
door telling her that I had Ginger."

"That was very nice of you, David," Liliana
commented.

"Oui.
A saint for taking in that
ragamuffin."

"I really can't give Ginger a permanent home.
I've had a dog before, and I don't think my current work schedule
could include caring for a pet. That's why I thought Liliana could
help."

"Ma petite,
you have suddenly become
an adoption agency. I'm not sure you will be able to find a home
for the animal."

"I'm keeping Ginger," she said with
determination.

"Where?"

"In my room, if necessary."

Sade poured out a chilled glass of Tio Pepe
and offered the same to his niece and David. They refused the
offer, and both proceeded to sit on the couch. Sade lifted his
glass and began pacing the room.

"If the dog is going to cause a problem here,
I can certainly take her back. I'm sure I can find another home.
Somewhere."

"She'll be fine here, David. Won't she,
Uncle?"

"If the scent of it in your bedroom does not
disturb your sleep," Sade hinted.

"I bathed Ginger before I brought her here.
She didn't like it much, but we managed. Right, girl?" David
scratched Ginger behind an ear and smiled. "In a way, I'll miss
her."

"Take her home with you,
monsieur."

"Uncle, David's not home nearly enough to
care for a pet. There's usually someone here, either one of us or
Matilda. It might even tempt Cecelia into coming back."

Sade slugged back the entire glass of sherry.
Shame, the high just wasn't the same as when he was alive.

Liliana stood and walked over to her
uncle.

"How about making peace?" Liliana leaned
Ginger toward Sade's body. A throaty growl forced her to pull the
dog back. "See, you've hurt her feelings, and now she doesn't like
you."

"There may come a time,
ma petite,
when she learns not to like you," Sade whispered.

He saw his niece's hands tremble.
The
hunger had overcome her today.
Her complexion held a deep hue,
and she filled the room with a warmth that only came from
satisfying the blood hunger. She squeezed the dog too tightly, and
it yelped.

"Oh God, I'm so sorry. Perhaps my uncle is
right, David." She turned to the young man still seated on the
couch. "I may not be the right person to care for Ginger."

David laughed. "You hugged her to hard.
Sometimes love hurts."

"Worn-out
cliché,"
muttered Sade. "But
now that I think about it... How about your grandmother? She's all
alone and could certainly use a companion." Sade reached out to pet
the dog, which snarled and snapped at his hand. "I guess we got off
on the wrong foot." He smiled at David.

"Sometimes her disposition can be quite sour,
Mr. Sade. I really don't believe it's anything personal."

"Grandmother?" Liliana was trying to digest
the thought. "She wouldn't want a pet. Her furnishings would be
ruined."

"Ginger is house-trained,
n'est-çe
pas,
David?"

"She's up in age and occasionally has an
accident."

"Just like your grandmother,
ma
petite."

"I can't keep her, David. It wouldn't be
fair. She'd be in too much danger. I mean, I couldn't follow her
around our property, and I hate penning up animals."

"She's a house dog. Never saw greenery except
for the neighborhood park down the block from our apartment house.
I wouldn't advise letting her out," said David.

"Fine! Then the little..."

"Dog, Uncle."

"Yes, the word would have come to me, I'm
sure.
La chienne,"
he obstinately said, "returns to her park
in Manhattan. I'm glad I came home to settle this before it became
too complicated." Sade reached out for the dog. Ginger caught the
tip of his right thumb.
"Le monstre
goes back to David,
ma fille."

Sadly Liliana handed the dog back to David,
who refused to take it.

"You've become so attached to Ginger that I
feel awful taking her away so quickly."

"She's safer with you." Again she proffered
the dog.

"Take the damn
chienne
back!"

"Uncle!"

David lifted the dog out of Liliana's
arms.

"Perhaps I should be going," David said.

"At least
la chienne
should be."

David shrugged at Liliana, and they both
headed for the front door.

Sade leaned slightly to the right, enabling
him to see the pair share a parting kiss.

Superbe.

By the time Liliana returned to the room,
Sade sat on the window bench watching David's car drive away.

"Have you taken him yet?"

"I'm not going to."