Prologue – Love Song for a Vampire
Long, deft fingers moved over a spotless fret-board, calling forward a procession of haunting notes, conveyed to the large amplifier with painful clarity by sparkling clean contacts. After a while Adam halted his movements and pressed his palm to the guitar strings to silence the instrument. A huff of air left his lungs for the sole purpose of releasing tension as he leaned further back on the sofa. He still missed his old instruments, the equipment lovingly collected over all his years in Detroit and subsequently Tangier. The few pieces of new equipment he had acquired out of necessity did nothing to fill the gaping hole left by his old belongings, they were all too young and their sound too crisp.
He cast hunger darkened eyes around is new home, a run-down cottage in a quiet English village, until his gaze settled the ornate Oud Eve had purchased for him shortly after they arrived in Tangier, nearly 60 years ago now; back before surviving under the radar in Morocco had become too challenging. As a result of the difficulties Adam had moved to England a few months ago, keeping his distance from London, and Eve had taken off to nowhere in particular. He knew she would be fine in any environment she thought to venture in to, in her words she was a survivor, but still some small part of him fretted at the lack of word from her. Setting the new Gibson aside he walked silently over to the Oud, plucking it from the floor, the position it had occupied since he moved in. Taking it back over to the worn leather sofa he surveyed it in detail. A thin layer of dust had settled over the varnished wood, it amassed on his fingertips as he brushed it away before he began to play a tune across the strings. The instrument was slightly out of tune from its period of neglect, but not offensively so. The polished wood was cold as it sat flush against his exposed abdomen. The sound was vibrant and rich, much like Eve. He allowed his hands to roam, forming notes and melodies freely as thoughts of her ran through his mind.
'Wait right here' her voice was firm but tired, and still possessed an optimistic cheerfulness that was always with her, even in their darker days. He leaned heavier against the wall behind him, its stone only slightly cooler than the skin under his jacket. He was so very tired, and hungry. He closed his eyes, feeling Eve's hands leave him for a moment before she lovingly placed dark sunglasses over his eyes, letting her fingers linger about his temples, smoothing down his wild hair.
The melody from the Moroccan lute filled the room with keening, optimistic highs and dark, brooding lows. Fed by his memories, and he had enough to feed an army.
The nerves never lessened, no matter how many times they did this. It was never clear whether it was just for show, or whether Eve needed regular reminders of his love. Regardless he stood by the altar, the presence of a few guests behind him sent tingles across his back. The priest surveyed him quietly, and for a moment Adam felt overwhelmed by the guilt of being in this house of God. The beliefs the humans held, that vampires could not step on consecrated ground, were false of course. If invited a Vampire could go anywhere they wanted. However that didn't lessen the unusual guilt they felt in such holy places, as if out of place. The dark suit was tight and restrictive across his back and shoulders, he much preferred the comfort of his dressing gown at home. He turned to survey the church behind him, looking for a sign of Eve through the large wooden doors, she was late. No doubt intentionally, she enjoyed keeping him waiting, knowing how impatient he could get. He was glad of the overcast day, but even the light through the clouds had made his skin burn uncomfortably. No one did midnight weddings.
He let his hands slow, the notes growing softer until they eventually gave way to silence. His hand lay still, fingers splayed, across the body of the instrument as he let his head fall back.
Adam watched silently as Eve lay asleep next to him, his worn dressing gown draped over her shoulders, leaving only a deep v of her bare chest exposed. Her light hair was splayed in a messy halo around her head while eyelids fluttered over large eyes. The off white wedding dress and veil hung flush against their dark varnished wardrobe. It struck memories of how she had looked in it earlier, the dress flanking her slight figure perfectly, its detailing bold, yet demure, across her chest as she stood across from him, wide eyes burning through the thin mesh. He shifted closer to her, careful not to disturb her while snaking his arms tight around her shoulders, one hand in her hair while he pressed his lips to her forehead. She stirred slightly, long fingers moving over his back, before becoming still once more.
He set the lute back in its place, leaving the room briefly to fetch a small silver bottle from the fridge before moving over to the front window and drawing back the curtain slightly. There were no streetlights outside as there had been in Detroit, but by the light of the moon he could see the road beyond his gravel driveway. Everything was still and silent, the way he liked it. On the driveway sat a recently obtained Jaguar XJS V12, its bright white paint almost glowing in the moonlight - there were some things he just couldn't go without.