A/N: Since there iss some interest in this story here, I guess I will try to go back to typing it. I thank you.

This chapter is one of those that gives the firm reason why you don't write in first person present!! And be aware, this gets rather messy towards the end. Gore alert, but it is a vampire story after all.

Chapter 25: Cat and Mouse

Frank

England December 31, 1899

I wake early today, but this has not been all that unusual. The sun has not gone down to shroud the world in cool safe darkness. Alestair's troubled sleep often wakes me early, but I am glad to be here for him. He sleeps peacefully right now. Sighing, I lay back against the wall of our sanctuary for the day. I feel weaker than I have ever felt as a vampire. I have never gone so long without the vampiric slumber. All my powers are weaker and I can't twist the minds of others around me as well as I used to. I fear that some of the people that I have met might remember me now. What will ii do if vampire hunters seek us. Oh well, I have been there and done that, too. Watching Alestair sleep, I smile in resignation. It has been worth it. I have never been needed there to wake someone from the horrors of the mind before this life. I wonder what he sees when he dreams. He doesn't explain what happens, but some of them have to do with me, I know. There are many a time that he attacks me when I wake him. Many of my bad dreams concern him as well, but I am more than happy to see his face upon my waking.

There is a good hour before full nightfall. So, I pull out my silver flute to play it for awhile. I am so glad that vampires are not poisoned by silver like what Alestair said that his brother used to say. My life would be a complete mess if I was stuck with all the restrictions that this Elias would have put on me. This flute has been a constant indifferent friend for many centuries, and it holds many memories both good and bad. I don't know what I would do without it. I would have survived somehow, but I don't want to think about bad possible scenarios. This is suppose to be a night of celebration. I will be happy for this turn of the century. I thought that the turn of the 19th Century was happy. It will pale in comparison with this one.

The deep dark melancholy melody of my flute drifts in the cool closed air of our hiding place. Perhaps my melody is sad for the mourning of the last flicker of the 19th Century where so many good memories lie and the future is unknown. Still, I can't help but think that better things await me on the other side. My eyes flicker open to see the reasons for my hope.

His dark brown eyes watch me as he sits propped up on his elbows. I must cease my playing. He will be upset with me, and I don't want that tonight. Tonight is special and how we play our cards will determine what the 20th Century will hold for us. A turn of the century is different than any other New Year's Day, because it will determine what a whole century will hold versus just a single year.

I move my flute to my coat. Alestair does not understand that I am no longer the Pied Piper, nor am I Lord Misko anymore, nor am I the monster that he met in 1825. I am just simply Frank Luceo Stoor. Nothing more. I am a simple traveler with a friend at his side. Sometimes, I wish that I did not talk so much. My stories do more harm than good sometimes. Although he is often wrong in his beliefs and the way he reacts to things, I do respect some of his feelings about things. Is that not why I asked for him to accompany in this return? Is this not the reason why I made him a vampire in the first place?

His face does not betray his dislike to my music as of yet. I have found over the three decades that I have spent with him that he has no sense of music. It is true that most of the music I play is unconventional and I make up notes as I go along, but I don't think he knows the difference. I think he is a man more attuned to the written word than the musical word. He still tries to keep up with current affairs. Oh well, one of us needs to know what's going on. I just went my own way no matter what, and I often got in trouble for it. I could really get in some major messes now that the mind power is weakening. Ah, it is not that bad yet. I still can convince folks that white is an off shade of purple on a bad day. I have also noticed that he picks up magazines every once and awhile that are not particularly about news. I may still be unable to read English, and I am down right lazy about the whole thing, but I still can tell the difference between important writing and works of fiction. He just needs to pick up something a little more entertaining with the drawings. This new invention of photography is not all that. Pah! I can draw better than some of those pictures.

I smile brightly at him. "You wake early, my friend," I say happily.

He blinks his eyes as if coming out of another sleep. He shakes his head to bring about full awareness. His words come as no surprise. "How can you play that thing?" he demands.

I shrug. "It is quite simple, my friend," I chirp, "I just put it to my lips and blow." Well, it is more complicated than that, but that is the essential, is it not. His glare deepens, and I grin one of those toothy grins. "I was going to take up clarinet at one time, but I kept on banging my teeth, and my claws kept getting tangled in it. Clarinets were not made with vampires in mind!"

"Not that!" he growls, "You know what I mean. How can you continue to play that thing after what you did by way of it in Hameln?"

I knew it was coming! Sometimes he is so predictable. I still would not trade him off for the world. "Well, you see, my friend," I begin my explanation again for the millionth time, "this flute has been my faithful companion since 1295, and well, I am fond of it. There are not many things that survive that long, you know. It does tend to settle my nerves or bring me peace when I am disturbed."

"So, what's your problem now?" he demands.

"Oh, I just need a bit of comfort," I answer with a shrug, "I just go through phases like that. You know me well enough by now, my friend. How can I be too depressed when there are so many things in this world to find and discover?"

He grunts a response and turns his back on me. He goes about preparing to move on. A new night, a new search.

"Anyway, my friend," I continue not quite done with this conversation, "if I don't play it periodically, I will forget how to! That would be a most distressful thing indeed!" I put my hat on my head. He makes no reply to my words. I pull my hat forward to cast an ominous shadow over my face. I am still sorely aware that he can produce those sinister looks, and I often fear they are more frightening than my own. I can't have that. It is bad enough that my underling is a good 6 inches taller than me! I have by far the more wicked mind!

He gives me a brief glance and frowns. He shakes his head and kicks the ground. "Let's leave this place," he insists.

I guess he is right there. I can feel it is nightfall by now, and we do have a mission to accomplish. I pull myself to my feet and stretch. It has been too cold of late, and because of my lack of slumber, I have been feeling far too human of late. My bones make a series of pops and cracks. He cringes at my bones' obvious statement. "That is an excellent idea of yours, my friend. I do have a feeling of Lucy in my bones, but, on the other hand, it could be the arthritis acting up again."

The glare that I receive for that statement tells me several things. He really did not like the analogy, and I really need to work on my wicked looks. He is just too good at those! He really does not understand the methods I need or use to find our prey. It is a feeling. I can feel her aura. I knew her even before she was a partial vampire, and now I have a stronger link with her because of that bite I gave her. It is a very complicated method to explain to him, and he does get awfully upset when I talk about biting Lucy. I guess I should not use so many interesting allusions in the process. Smiling, I throw my arm around his shoulders. It is still a night to celebrate. He shrugs me off.

"I hope your sense of my wife is right! I may manage to keep my sanity through this night to rid the world of three obscenities!" he complains to me.

Hmph! Obscenities indeed! What does he really know of such matters! I realize that of late he has not had too good of a time, and his association with the humans around us has diminished somewhat. I think that our accents are making us stand out a bit more than what is sociably acceptable, but to call us obscenities because people have changed. Maybe it is time that we leave this country. Still, I follow Lucy where she leads us, and she has been mucking about in England all these years. Of course, I know he is still none too happy with the vampirism. He lets me know often enough. I pull myself up to my full not so impressive height and throw back my head, which dislodges my hat. With my nose in the air . . . mostly due to the fact my partner has six inches on me . . . I state in my most haughty air, "We haven't got her yet! So there! Nyah!"

All the same, I am torn between desires. There is a part of me that hopes we will succeed tonight. I never meant for Lucy to suffer in this way and for so long. Yet, all in all, I could wish to live longer and have him at my side. He is a grouchy conversationist, especially with our recent troubles. It has been different to have a friend to wake to.

Taking up my discarded hat, I lead the way out of our hiding place to meet the crisp and rather cold December air, soon to be equally if not colder January air. The virgin white snow out across the field makes me smile at its beauty. My partner walks on ahead of me with no interest in the scenery before him, but that's Alestair for you. Turning back to me, he gives me one of those looks that says that I need to get back down to business. Oh well, he has tracked up the pure solid whiteness. I move forward into the field and hold out my hands as one who is blinded or put in a dungeon and seeks to know his surroundings. Contrary to what my partner believes, this does help me to sense Lucy's lifeforce.

Alestair stands and kicks at the snow, but he says nothing. This is not the first time he has seen me do this. I jump with a sudden contact. I follow out the feeling for three quarters of an hour, then I stop short. There is another force out there. Far out on the horizon I see several large heavy stones and the second force is coming from there. I give out an exclamation of appreciation and move forward. The scene ahead of me becomes clearer as I approach, and I notice these structures are huge and most ancient than me!! That is indeed impressive. I also notice from my distance that these stones are set out in a logical and methodical order. The overwhelming aura of the place entices my senses and doesn't scare me stupid. That is a good thing, mind you. I am from a medieval time, and strange magical things are not good things. Such things are hard to shake off. Never mind I am a vampire, and that is not exactly a natural state of being. All the same, it is a wonderful thing to greet us at the beginning of the new century. Mayhap this is a good sign.

"It's only Stonehenge," Alestair comments flatly and unimpressed, "There's nothing all that great about it. It has something to do with cults and seasonal events, or at least that is what Elias used to tell me. I really don't see any reason for all the fuss."

I turn to him and narrow my eyes. One can really tell that he is a young vampire! "I think the place is magnificent!" I reply, "If I knew there were such places in England, I would not have stayed on the continent."

"Then I am glad you didn't know about it and came here with those damn plague rats," he retorts.

I blink at him a few moments. Does he mean the Black Death? I do believe I have heard it called the 'plague' before. I shrug him off. He really does not know me. "I do believe that the Black Death came here a couple of times, my friend, but it was not my fault. I did lose track of it sometimes, and it went its own way. Of course, not every city that I visited was infested with Black Death. I can choose whether or not to bring it with me, as you can well attest to."

He looks off into the structure in the distance, then he turns to me. "Why did you start up the plague in the first place?" he asks me.

"I died of it in 1348. Why I continued to spread it?" I remark as I shrug my shoulders. Looking down at my feet, I add, "I don't really know. I think I was given the power of vampirism to spread death and chaos, and I was happy to do so for all the pains I suffered in my life. I didn't lose any friends to it."

I think back to my years as Lord Misko, and I cringe now. I guess I have changed. Count Orlock was kind of proud of Misko, and he looked forward to creating the havoc that he did. Something happened during that time of changing from human to vampire. It is a vague memory, but I still remember it and hold onto it. It had to do with a woman, but then again, is that not the source of all of my problems. Yet, she did ease my suffering, and I came back with some sense of hope. Alestair thinks that I am an evil soul, but he really has not seen true evil from me yet. Lucy reminded me of this woman. This memory ranks up there with the time I spent with Giovanni, and, like the experience that I have in trying to see him again, I wonder if the truth is as allusive.

In the distance I hear the clock strike out the death of the 19th Century, but it also signifies the birth of the 20th Century. Grabbing a resisting Alestair close to myself, I embrace him tightly. Completely insulted by my emotional outburst, he desperately tries to push me off of him. I succeed in kissing his cheeks and giving him a stronger embrace. He finally succeeds in pushing me off. With the sudden force, I stumble and fall back. Recovering myself quickly, I sit up and smile at him.

Opening my arms up wide, I exclaim happily, "Welcome in your second century as I do my seventh!" He glares at me.. Picking myself up, I turn to pick up my lost hat again. Holding that hat to my heart, I make an elaborate bow to him. Rolling his eyes, he shakes his head. I place my hat back on my head and look up at him. "See, there is a good thing about being a vampire. I bet you never expected to see the Twentieth Century, my friend!" I announce. Of course, in my opinion, I think he would have been lucky to see 1826.

"I had no desire to see it, as I still have no desire to see it now. I would much rather be in my grave!" he retorts back.

"Tsk, tsk, my friend!" I exclaim and throw my arm around his resisting shoulders. "This beginning of the new century is my best yet! Come! What did you do at your last turn of the century?"

"I was sick," he grumbles as he successfully pushes me away.

"See! You have found another good thing about being a vampire!" I exclaim. Hey, I like this existence.

"I was bed ridden because of anemia," he remarks with a frown.

Taking hold of his wrists and standing on the tips of my toes, I look into his eyes. My forehead and nose touch his forehead and nose. He quite forcefully pushes me away, and I again I find myself on the ground.

With a self satisfied smile on my lips, I hold up a finger and announce nonchalantly, "You are not about to have any problem with anemia whatsoever tonight, my friend."

"If you do that again, I will tear your miserable throat out!" he growls. Threats, threats. I have heard them all before.

I shrug. "So, which of my seven turns of the century do you want to hear about, my friend?"

"None of them," he snaps back.

"Let's see, my friend. The turn of the 14th Century was quite nice for me. My father was preparing to take me to Florence for the first time."

He turns to me. He might not want to hear my yammering, but he does listen and responds. "Why not one of your older brother?" he asks.

"Oh, they weren't around then," I reply with one of those smiles that scares the pants off of him. He should know better than ask such things by now. Never mind I was only 12 then. I was a busy bugger, and father thought me useless. His jaws drops open and the look of astonishment is priceless. Shrugging, I continue, "How do you think that I got to be lord with all the wealth and land?" I give him one of those dark foreboding looks that I know he can't outdo.

He blubbers something incoherent, but I ignore him. I pull myself up straight and head out to the structure ahead of us. Yes, this century has started off well. This century will be a good one if this is truly a taste of what is to come.

With a mixture of feels like a cold or that creeping that goes up the back when something is not right, I stop short of the destination. Alestair manages to stop before running over me. "What is it?" he queries.

I squint my eyes and see movements of people. My insides quell. This is not the time and place for this mission. "There is a gathering there," I tell him.

"So, you can single her out," he replies. He knows too much. I must learn to keep my mouth shut a little more often.

"I guess so," I mutter. I force my foot forward then pause. It is almost like a barrier between me and my goal, but there is no magic about this. It is only in my mind. I turn and look back at him. "Maybe, my friend, she will be here tomorrow night."

"What's wrong with you?" he demands. The look in his dark brown eyes mean business and not pleasant business.

"Well, my friend, do you not think that it would be a bit suspicious on our part to drag her screaming and yelling from a crowd of people, much less you performing your duty to her?" I query in the most logical sense possible.

He gives me another one of those nasty looks. I guess my logic does not work for him. It made sense to me. "Your excuse is feeble."

"She will be back tomorrow night when there will be less people about," I argue.

"No! We go for her tonight! No more of your excuses."

Who is in charge here anyway! I stomp my foot and hold my ground. "Alestair, she is a sensitive woman. This will draw her back."

"I don't care! She has suffered enough!"

I grimace, but I continue forward. with him. I jerk my head at a strong impulse of her presence. Just outside the circle of stone that stands a good quarter of a mile, a fuzzy image of a slender cloaked figure moves from stone to stone. The scent is Lucy's.

Alestair hits me square in the back that causes me to stumble forward. I really should have waited for him to get older to make him a vampire. At least our physical strength would have been similar. I look at him indignantly. He probably would not have made it to my age. Oh well, I will be happy with him as is. After all, he gets too aggressive, I have other ways of subduing him.

"Find out if it is her. If it is, bring her to me since at this point in time I am more important than you are. After all, you cannot tell me what it is oyu are afraid of."

"Hmpf! You are 500 years younger than me, and I have to do all the footwork. Not to mention, your feet are in a hell of a lot better shape than mine are!"

I make a few other comments that are not worth repeating. I work my way to he site. The cloaked person, who at this point I have no doubt is Lucy, freezes at my approach. Having been a vampire for a good many years, I have many special powers and telepathy is one of my better powers. I send a mental message to her to stay put as I work my way towards her. Hoping not to frighten her, I spread out my hands and send a peaceful empathic message to her.

She suddenly cries out and pulls away from my urging. She freezes again. Shaking my head, I again approach her. I again give a glance to the hooded cloaked people, who stand in the midst of their ceremonies. Oh good, I sigh. They will not be interested in my pursuits. I send a mental image of my partner to her. She whimpers and pulls farther back.

"No. No. He is alright," I tell her mentally. Well, he is alright as he can be given the situation.

She tries to break free of my spell and flee, but I am good at what I do. I gain ground. I wonder if Alestair has any inkling of how much pain he is causing her by having me chase her down alone. Oh, I should not be so harsh. He is right. What if the people break from their ceremony and find any of us? I swallow down my inhibitions. I stand about six feet from Lucy. In a way, I am glad to be close to her again. A smile crosses my lips at the memory of so long ago. I felt like a person again at that time instead of the monster that I am. I will have her hand in mine again.

Suddenly, I am pinned face forward in the dirt. A growl of a wild animal reaches my ears. A chill runs through me that has nothing to do with the January weather. Claws sink deep into my shoulders. Fearing for my prey, I send a mental message to Lucy to run. No argument. She obeys this command. Good. She will not be hurt. She may even run into Alestair in her flight. I hope he can figure out what to do.

OWW!! The creature runs those claws down my back. I pant with pain. I wish Alestair was right about vampires feeling pain. I try to pull myself up. If I could face my assailant, then I could flee. The claws return. Help! Mother! OOOWW!! The creature digs the claws in deep like an animal digging in the dirt. The severing cuts into the back of my neck. Teeth bite in to my shoulder. I don't want to know. Still the pain is extraordinary. OOOOWWWW!! The growling breath of my attacker blows in my ears. The sharp pointed teeth tear at one of my ears. It shreds my right ear. I still cannot move or get up to fight back. It goes to my other ear. Tears stain my face. I gasp. There is no escape. I must endure this.

"Alestair!" my telepathy calls out. The message is immediately followed by a scream of anguish. The creature bites into my face. I can tell what it is now. A big black panther. This knowledge does not help me any. AWW!! It has torn away my right cheek. I try to pull away again. My strenght will not allow it. I pull my head up. OOWWWW!! The cat bites into my forehead. Blood settles on my gasping lips. I wish I could use my claws. I may have been able to escape if I had been attacked from the front. I choke. OOOOOOOOOO!! It tears my shoulder. "ALESTAIR!!!"

No response. Is he alright? Another growl emits from my tormentor. Its back legs tear my legs to ribbons. Those teeth tear at my left arm. More tears roll down my pain stricken face. "Jonathan, please help me," my mind pleads.

Still no aid nor response comes. At last the monster leaves and flees. I lie in my own blood. I push forward with my forehead in an effort to right myself. I cannot gain my feet. I lie immobile and unable to open my eyes any longer. Oh, Alestair. I hope you are alright. I hope you are alright and the beast has not gotten your scent. At last, unconsciousness states claim to my weary mind. The pain leaves for a brief time.

When my eyelids choose to flicker open once again, I find myself back in our hiding place. I stiffly and painfully turn my head to see Alestair fast asleep. He is unharmed. The cat did not get him. Thank goodness I should not have called for his help. What could he have done anyway? I lay my still bleeding body back to the cave wall.

I want to beg a response from him as to why he did not help me, but I know to seek such an answer is wrong. I do not want him hurt. I will not wake him to ask him. He has found sleep, which he has so much trouble in finding. I will not wake him to confirm my belief that I am not worth his saving. I would have been terrified as an onlooker. It was not much fun being the main attraction either. At least, he does care something for me. He must have carried me here, and he saved me from the dawn. I smile. My face has a nasty complaint to add to that, but it does not matter. I am worth saving in his eyes. I catch a glimpse of white on black. I would smile even wider, but I am in enough pain as it is. He even saved my hat.

I close my eyes and fall into a state of sleep or unconsciousness. He cares to save me from the people and the dawn. Tomorrow my wounds will be healed, and I must hunt. Tomorrow, Alestair will be at my side again. I will not be alone. Yes, the beginning of this new century will indeed be a wonderful one.