“Blood Beauty Forever”

“I will tell you the story of my life, or what I remember of it,” I tell my friend as we wait in the café for our coffee to be served to us. She doesn’t believe me. I know it because her lips curls slightly at the corners when she is suspicious of the truth.

“This was back when I was known as Blood Beauty…” I wait for her to finish rolling her eyes, then I begin.

He used to call me his Blood Beauty before he sank his fangs into my flesh and made me hurt. He stroked my face, my hair, my breast. He was tender as he took from me.

But I was never his.

I allowed him to lavish his affections upon me. I would allow him to feed from me and make me his bride beneath the full moon. I would never protest. I would never cry.

He called me Blood Beauty. He never knew my real name.

The night he gave me his blood and shared with me the most intimate of embraces, I was lost. I stared beyond him with flickering eyes at the silver moon overhead. I swooned in his strong and powerful arms. My very core burned for the intimacy and the contact of the sexual embrace, but my heart was not in it. I stared beyond him at the tree that laced its branches across the moon’s face.

When he fed me the blood, he said I was truly his forever. I only smiled and drank from the red fount. I savored it, and I lived for it. His blood was fuel. It made me strong. I wanted more. I soon found myself, and was no longer lost.

I slept that day with him in his chambers. I now lived for the night. Blood Beauty forever.

I hated him for calling me that. I was not his Blood Beauty. I was not his. I belonged to no man, mortal or immortal.

But I endured it. I lived with him, night after night as he taught me the ways of the vampire. He taught me to hunt, to feed and how to be silent in the shadows. He taught me to be swift and deadly. He taught me to be alluring. I learned quickly how to lure men into my web of lies.

The last night I was “his”, was the night of fire. It blazed across the countryside. It tore through homes and destroyed livestock. Lives were lost. We had to flee. That night, I broke his heart with my dagger and I left him.

I know not if I killed him or not. I ponder this as I lay on my soft bed. The neon glow falls over the sleeping form of my victim tonight. She is young and beautiful. She reminds me of myself. She will not be my Blood Beauty. I have no need for that.

She sleeps quietly, and will for some time. The marks upon her tender throat are still red. Her blood was sweet. I look away from her and think of him.

For years I have thought of him. The tortured look in his eyes as I plunged my dagger into his heart was something I often dreamed of. The fire burned behind him. It crept up to him, to devour. And I laugh.

Was I feeling sentimental and nostalgic? I cannot quite place my emotions. I did not love him. I did not care for him. He gave me the blood, I gave him my life. I try to tell myself I do not miss him. My lies do not work upon myself.

And that’s when I sense him. His presence is strong. My heart begins to pound and I sit up. It buzzes within me. He’s here…but he can’t be.

I stand and I put on my robe. It feels delicious against my naked flesh. I leave my young victim alone. I will return to her later.

I descend the staircase and walk along the hall of my beautiful house. It is only a house, and not a home. I live no where. I only linger. By the single flame of a candle, I lead my way out into the night.

It is warm, and the moon is only half full. The wind blows my candle out, but I do not need its light.

There he is silhouetted against the moon. His long dark hair blows in the breeze. The shadows on his face dance out of the way once he lifts his head. His eyes lock onto mine.

“It cannot be…” I whisper, and yet it is true. He is here. He was not destroyed in the fire. His broken heart had healed. I feel wetness on my cheeks. Blood tears have begun to fall.

He moves with a speed that has always astonished me. He holds me by the shoulders and stares down at me. He is just as strong as ever. I expect to see anger in his eyes, but I see nothing but pity.

“Blood Beauty Forever…” he whispers. His voice sends shivers throughout my body. I cannot speak. “You have betrayed me.”

“…so long ago…” I finally whisper in return. His eyes do not change.

“…And still.” He says softly. His fingertips touch the tears on my cheek. His skin is like ice. He has not fed. He tastes the blood-tears, and he shudders.

“Still sweet…”

“Some things do not change.” I say. I am shivering, but not from the cold. “Why have you come here?”

He is silent for a very long time. We stare at each other, lost in the ages that have past. Then he speaks.

“I have come here because I have made a grievous error.”

I stare at him. His dark eyes dance in the moonlight. “I took you from your family, and I tried to make you mine, when I knew all along you would belong to no one.” He touches his fingers to my lips. I do not speak. “I was selfish, and I took your happiness for granted. I took from you what I never should have. And you took from me what was rightfully yours…my heart.”

Words fail me. The wind brushes my hair from my face. I take his cold hand and hold it between my own. I kiss his knuckles.

“My sire…” I begin, my voice soft, “You still do not know me. You cannot come to me with words of sorrow and regret…” I stare up at him. “You know it will never be again.”

“Yes.” He nods his head slowly. “I know this…but for one night…”

I stare at him and his words ring through my mind. I have missed him. I want him.

“One night…” I agree, “But only one…”

“Tonight is enough…”

And our lips met in a fiery frenzy. His like the coldest ice, mine warm from the blood I have consumed. I press myself to him and shiver at the feel of our bodies touching. I hate to admit I have missed it.

I draw him into my house. We kiss as we ascend the staircase, and we return to the bedroom where my girl still slumbers. He breaks from me to stare at her. The scent of her blood is warm and inviting. Her small breasts rise and fall with each breath. I sit beside her and touch her warm shoulder.

“Darling…” I croon. She stirs slightly, and opens her glazed eyes. They focus on me and I smile. “Darling, you are beautiful…” My fingertips graze over her neck. The girl’s body glistens with a sheen of sweat. He watches me, entranced. With my free hand, I beckon him to join us. He does.

I tilt my girl’s head back and I kiss her throat. He takes her wrist and massages it. She flinches from the cold, but soon becomes limp again. She shudders as I bite into her soft throat and begin to drink.

He drinks from her wrist, leaning near to the both of us. My girl does not cry, she does not protest. Her eyes roll back into her head and she sighs.

I am lost in her blood, and so is he. We swoon together. Her heartbeat combines with mine, combines with his. He drinks greedily. When we are finished with her, she is dead. I arrange her limps perfectly at her sides and lean toward her.

He watches me with a saddened expression. The blood on his lips is still fresh. I kiss it away.

“For one night, I will be yours.” I tell him. He touches my shoulder, massaging my warm flesh. “But only tonight…”

“Tonight is enough…” He says again. And his lips find my throat, where he plants his tiny kisses. I surrender without a word.

I become his Blood Beauty again tonight…

Memories give in to more memories. I recall what happened afterward…

I lay still in the bed beside him. His body was warm from the blood that now coursed through his veins. His breathing was soft and warm on my back. His arm lay across my naked side.

I took very little comfort in this. I had not seen him for years, for centuries and now he was here. We shared a moment, no more and no less. I wouldn’t give him any more.

“Blood Beauty,” He murmured sleepily. I closed my eyes. I am not yours, I wanted to say. I only gave into him because of my lust, my desire. I felt no love for him. There was nothing left of our past. It had turned to dust along with the bones of so many victims.

I slid from the comfort of the bed. His arm fell lax at his side. He was asleep. I studied him a long moment as I sat there. His dark hair fell into his closed eyes. I held myself from brushing it away. He deserved no affection from me. I turned and slipped into my robe.

The girl we had feasted from lay lifeless on my settee. She was already turning blue. I would need to be rid of her soon. I pondered on it very little as I passed her and exited into the hall.

The air was still cool, unusually cool for a summer’s night. I did not mind. I preferred the cold. I strolled down my steps and into my study. Books lined the tall shelves. Tomes I would never read lay collecting dust in all four corners of the room. Scrolls lay in bundles upon the table. A half melted candle spilled its wax onto the cedar top. I lit it for its light and focused on it.

I came here often, when I needed time to think. The study held a strange comfort for me. I was not educated in my mortal life. It was something I had craved as a child, but denied because I was a female. But no longer. There life in stories, in studies. I devoured all I could. Somehow, knowledge gave me comfort.

Perhaps it was because I wished to shed some inner knowledge upon myself. I gauged my feelings for my former master. Did I love him? No, I could honestly say I did not. For a time I had depended upon him. He was the one who taught me and provided for me. Once I learned all I could from him, there was no need to be with him.

The night I tried to kill him was a cold winter night. I remember it because of the blood on the snow. That image forever haunted my mind. Did I feel remorse for what I did? No, I did not. I did it because I had to. He imprisoned me, and I would be no one’s slave.

As I thought of his “death”, my eyes fell upon the ornamental dagger upon my walls. Immediately I went to it and removed it from its plague. It was a heavy thing made of silver. An ornately carved handle formed the shape of a dragon’s head. The eyes were bright rubies. I held it, and ran my finger along its sharp blade. Blood was drawn and the scent of it was thick in the air. I licked it from my finger, studying the smallest of droplets as it traced its way down the blade. I smirked.

It reminded me of the dagger I used. The blade was curved and reminded me of an asp. It was just as poisonous. The night my master came to me, I tilted my head back for the biting kiss. I slipped the dagger into his chest, right over his heart before his lips even touched the skin. I twisted his heart. I broke it.

Then the blood colored the snow and stones beneath us. It stained my dress. I found myself transfixed. And my master stared at me as he gasped for his life. I twisted the blade a little more, and I left him there. I never looked back.

It was a cruel fate for him, but it ensured me my life. I became powerful after that. I found men and enticed them easily. Women, too. None could resist my charm.

I slipped from my reverie and wiped the blood from the blade with the sleeve of my silk robe. I began to wonder why my master had returned to me. I had hurt him, surely. He seemed so eager to change things, to make them the way they were before. Kind words would not persuade him otherwise.

I sat upon the window seat that overlooked the garden. Everything was black, as it always was. The sky was turning blue. The sun would rise soon. I do not remember how long I sat there, watching the sky as it began to change. Perhaps a few minutes, perhaps closer to an hour. When I came back to myself, the sky was nearly pink.

His footfalls were silent. I was not sure how long he had been watching me until I heard his tread upon the wooden floors. I turned to him, slipping the dagger beneath the cushions of my seat.

“Why have you come back?” I asked him without hesitation. He stood in the doorway, a dark shadow with an ugly yellow shadow cast against his face. He was dressed in a black robe, as dark as his hair. His eyes seemed kind.

“To see you. To love you.”

“I know nothing of love.” I said, with a scoff. “Love is for the foolish.”

“Some believe that,” He said softly. He approached me. His sleeves flowed past his hands. The garment shimmered in the light. I narrowed my eyes at him.

“And what do you believe?”

“I believe you were wrong. I believe you do not know love, because you have not experienced it. You did not let me love you.”

“You’re a fool.” I said angrily. I stood, drawing the dagger into the folds of my robe. The sun would be rising soon. It was time to retire. “You come here, after all these years; years I believed you were dead, for what? To tell me you loved me? You have wasted your time. Do not waste any more of mine.” I made to move past him.

“No, I haven’t.” That’s when his voice changed. It became dark. It resonated with fury. His arm shot out and grabbed my own. His grip was like a vice, strong and unyielding. He drew my close to his hard body. I resisted, but it was useless.

“Fool!” I cried, but his mouth was on my lips before I could utter another word. He forced the kiss upon me. His lips were warm, but hard and fierce. His kiss would have bruised a normal woman. I did not give in.

The piercing pain was unlike anything I had felt before. It took my breath away. He sucked it into his own mouth and savored it with a shudder. I gasped. The blood smell was strong. He stepped back, and I looked down.

The red covered the front of my robe. Blood bubbled around the dagger protruding from my chest. He twisted it.

“How does it feel, Blood Beauty?” His words were harsh. He whispered heatedly into my ear. “How does it feel to have your heart ripped out by someone you love?”

“I do not love you,” I choked the words. My hand clasped over his own. It was sticky with the blood. “I have never loved you.”

“Liar!” He bellowed, and plunged the dagger into my heart. I cried out. “You loved me, and you know it. You were afraid of it, you have always been afraid of it!”

His words rang true. Blood tears rolled down my face. I uttered, “Yes, yes, it’s true” over and over again. I had loved him. I loved him.

“You broke my heart,” He said, in a tone softer than before. “Now, I break yours. We are even.”

“If we are even…” I whispered. I could taste the blood on my lips. “If we are even…give me one last kiss…” My fingers curled tighter around the dagger in my sleeve.”

His lips met mine once more, but with none of the intensity as before. It was a gentle kiss. My dagger entered his chest.

He was surprised by it. His eyes flew wide and stared into mine. I was smirking. Blood pooled into my mouth.

“Now,” I said, “we are even.”

We both slumped to the floor. Our blood mingled together, his and mine. It stained the wooden floor surrounding us. The sky outside was no longer blue. It was pink and red. The sun was rising.

In that last moment, we looked at each other. His blood sticky hand touched the side of my face. Sunlight crept across the floor toward us. A matter of minutes, it would be over.

“Blood Beauty…” He said. He whispered the words. “My Blood Beauty Eternal.” Tears slid red from the corners of his eyes, making a red river down his pale face.

“Yes…” I said in my last breath. The sun was hot. It touched our skin in a painful embrace. “Blood Beauty Eternal.” We held tight to one another. The sun burned, the sun cleansed.

And then we were ashes, forever together.

My friend stared at me in amazed silence. The coffee mug in her hand had grown cold, and she set it down. She shook her head.

“I can’t believe that.” She raised her eyes to me. “How do you remember this?”

I let out a sigh. My eyes glistened with tears and I avoided looking at her. The memory pained me. It was obvious.

“It was a long time ago.” I said. “It was another life…”

“It doesn’t seem like so long ago.” My friend said. “You told it as if it were only yesterday…” Her voice trailed to silence. I finally turned my eyes to her and stared.

“Maybe it was only yesterday,” I answered. “Maybe it was a hundred years ago. It doesn’t matter any more. I am no longer Blood Beauty. I am no longer enslaved.”

My friend’s face became worried, but she said nothing to me. We both turned our heads toward the setting sun and watched the colors spread into the sky.

I couldn’t help but think. I gave up on love before, I was stupid. Would there be another chance? Could he still be out there?

I lowered my head and saw the crystal clear tears fall onto my wrist. If he was, I knew this time, I wouldn’t betray him.

“Let’s go.” My friend says. She looks to me, touches my hand softly. I look away from her. I can still see the glint in her eyes that tells me she still doesn’t believe. But it doesn’t matter any more.

It’s the truth. It’s what I remember. I was Blood Beauty and I will always be Bloody Beauty forever.