Raven wipes the escaping trickles from his mouth with his
jacket sleeve, and grins.
"You feel all right, little bird?"
Gasping a little, he nods. "Yes, yes...better than before,
actually."
"Then come...I will take you for a ride, and we will rule the
boardwalk underworld."
"A ride? How d'you mean?" Raven asks.
David leads him outside, and shows off to him a lean and
gleaming beast of steel and fiberglass. It is like a cheetah, and
Raven gasps and strokes its finely polished hide.
"It's beautiful...how does she ride?"
"Amazingly. It's like riding a cloud, little bird. Maybe
someday you will have your own."
"I remember...before my mom died, she'd take me to BMX and
motocross races...she loved it, even though she was too sick to
ride. She said it made her feel alive."
"Then I chose well. A wild boy who loves to ride and is
willing to be free..." David laughs and swings a leg over the
bike. "Coming?"
"Duh." The boy rolls his eyes and springs up behind David,
wrapping his arms around a narrow, powerful waist. He rests his head
against David's back, taking in the smell of sweat and leather, and
something else, like gasoline and blood.
"Hang on, little bird, or you may end up flying." He kicks
the metal steed into action, and they take off, up a steep and rocky
trail, and through a misty woodland. The wind whips by, throwing
Raven's jacket out like the wings of his namesake. David howls for
joy as they pick up speed along a stretch of deserted, moonlit
beach. The sun is long gone by now, as are the people. They roar up
the steps, and David cuts the engine just across from a small comic
book shop.
"You see that, young protege?"
"Yeah..."
"Those two. The two who work there, they killed my
brothers. And nearly killed me. They are our enemies, little bird.
Don't ever let them see you. I cannot make the same mistakes
again."
"Ok." Shivering a little--already he feels the sickly dread
of persecution thicken in his belly--Raven resettles himself against
David's back, and they take off.
Sometime later they stop again, between a dilapidated fish n'
chips bar and an eerily silent carousel.
"Do you smell that, my little bird?"
He turns his nose to the wind, catching on it the scent of
low tide, of wood and smoke, and then something else--something that
seems so obvious he knows he should've known it before. And then it
comes to him. He can smell blood, pumping away in human veins.
"Blood..." his mouth begins to water hopelessly, and his
stomach contracts with a sudden, desperate need.
"That's right, little bird. Right there on the carousel, a
homeless man sleeps. And he's all yours."
Slowly Raven gets off the bike. "David, what if he's got a
knife? Or a gun?"
"That's the beauty of what we are, Raven. We can't die. We
can be hurt--but we heal. And I will be here, my little bird. Right
behind you."
"Ok, then." He trusts David to back him up, just in case.
He is less afraid of killing--after all, he is desperately hungry--
than of being harmed himself. Carefully he climbs up onto the frozen
carousel, sniffing for his dinner--ah, there. Just in the shadows,
and all alone. Filthy, yes, but food is food.
After all, it's what's on the inside that counts.
He feels the jolting pain again, and in a sudden burst of
energy, he lunges forward. He feels his canines jut suddenly
downward, and then in the next instant crush into soft, sweet human
flesh. The man jolts and gurgles out a cry, but Raven has him
pinned. He drinks long and deep and sucks hard for every drop. He
feels it coat and ease the pain, and it is so gloriously sweet and
syrupy on his tongue that he forgets where he is, who he is, just for
this moment of being.
"Hey! Hey you kid!"
A piercing voice to preternatural ears. He turns, and
someone is there, a flashlight straight into agonizingly sensitive
eyes. A guard, a human, he smells it.
"David! David help!" He turns and David is there, right
there, at his back like he promised, and very nearly picks him up and
puts him on the bike, then swings up himself.
"Hang on, Raven."
They seem to fly across the boardwalk, as sirens pierce the
air. The pain in his ears and eyes numbs him, and he bites through
his lip with new-gained fangs. He grips David's waist with hard
terror, gunshots from a hundred feet away sounding like they're next
to his ear.
And suddenly, they stop.
"David?" They're at the edge of a cliff, looking over to the
thunderous black water below. "David, what now?"
"We fly."
"What?" Raven stares. "But I can't--"
"You're like me, Raven. If I can, so can you. It's easy.
Just jump--and then think fly. You'll be fine, and anyway," he
smirks a little, "I'm right here."
Raven gulps. There's really no choice. Stay and be caught
by the police, or jump and...well, hopefully fly.
"I'll go first, all right? But quickly, they'll follow the
cycle tracks." David backs up, backs up, then off the cliff, and
Raven cries out in instinctive fear. But he floats, evenly and
easily.
Cautiously the boy comes to the edge. He looks down at the
water, then looks up at David, setting his jaw. Don't look down,
they say. So he won't. And he jumps, thinking he'll fall, praying
to fly and--
He does. He floats beside David, a little dazed, but happy
he isn't going to be food for some pacific sealife.
"Come now, little bird. Follow me home, and we'll be safe."
David dives, and Raven follows, and it is not far down the
cliffs till they come to the steel fence and massive debris pile that
mark the entrance. Raven sets down on the pockmarked sand with a
heavy thump, and David follows with a more graceful landing. Inside,
Raven shakes.
"David...why didn't you smell them? Why didn't I?"
He shakes his head. "I don't know, Raven...they've never
patrolled before. Oh, hells...I nearly lost you little bird, yet
I've only just found you." David holds Raven gently, staring at
nothing. "I'm sorry, little bird...I am. No hard feelings, eh?"
"No...but my ears still hurt." He smiles shakily, and David
chuckles.
"Preternatural senses...an advantage and disadvantage all in
one. It's a human world, everything is loud, bright, smelly...time
has blunted their senses, little bird."
"David?"
"Hm?"
"Why do you call me that? Little bird'?"
"Your name, Raven...and you strike one as being small and
quiet. But clever, like those blackbirds, you know, the ones in the
poem..."
"Four and twenty blackbirds?" Raven laughs, then flomps down
onto the creaking, nastily plaid couch. "Interesting choice."
"You mind it?"
"Not really...it makes me feel...I don't know, cared for? My
mother named me Raven you know. For the trickster."
"And so it suits you, my clever little bird." David sits
next to him on the couch, wraps an arm around his shoulders. "You
realize, though, that now you are totally like me? My little bird,
you must never again let the sun touch you."
"But I could look at it?"
"At a ray, maybe. But it would hurt you."
Raven nods. "I see." He looks at his watch. "Christ, it's
almost sunrise!"
David yawns. "So it is. You are tired, I expect?"
"Yeah." Raven stretches, his worn t-shirt rising over his
belly.
"Come and rest." David gets up, holding aside the curtain in
front of one of the beds--a well-done up pile of quilts and pillows.
Raven smiles, and flops out onto the bed, giggling as it
squishes and conforms to his body. He sits up, pulls off his boots,
and then gives a sudden squawk. His feet are heavy, malformed claws,
the big toe opposable to the others.
"Yes...I forgot about that. It helps when hanging upside
down." David shrugs, then sits down beside him. "You mind if I join
you, little bird?"
"No, no, go ahead." Raven folds his legs up under him,
watching David throw off his coat, shirt, and boots. His feet are
similarly clawed, he notices. His body is pale, but sleekly muscled--
he is stronger than his slim appearance would have one believe, like
a panther. David lies down beside his protégé, his son and brother,
wraps him gently in his arms. Raven does not protest.
"You are tense, little bird...do I scare you?"
"No, it's not that...it's just I'm not used to it. I mean, I'm
not sure I should, or what you want from me or--"
David presses a finger to the boy's frantic lips. "Shh. I
understand, little bird. Lie with me and dream. You're like me,
Raven. You have my blood in you. You will understand." He whispers
soothingly.
Trusting David's advice, Raven nestles down against the elder
vampire's startlingly warm body, and soon dozes off.
jacket sleeve, and grins.
"You feel all right, little bird?"
Gasping a little, he nods. "Yes, yes...better than before,
actually."
"Then come...I will take you for a ride, and we will rule the
boardwalk underworld."
"A ride? How d'you mean?" Raven asks.
David leads him outside, and shows off to him a lean and
gleaming beast of steel and fiberglass. It is like a cheetah, and
Raven gasps and strokes its finely polished hide.
"It's beautiful...how does she ride?"
"Amazingly. It's like riding a cloud, little bird. Maybe
someday you will have your own."
"I remember...before my mom died, she'd take me to BMX and
motocross races...she loved it, even though she was too sick to
ride. She said it made her feel alive."
"Then I chose well. A wild boy who loves to ride and is
willing to be free..." David laughs and swings a leg over the
bike. "Coming?"
"Duh." The boy rolls his eyes and springs up behind David,
wrapping his arms around a narrow, powerful waist. He rests his head
against David's back, taking in the smell of sweat and leather, and
something else, like gasoline and blood.
"Hang on, little bird, or you may end up flying." He kicks
the metal steed into action, and they take off, up a steep and rocky
trail, and through a misty woodland. The wind whips by, throwing
Raven's jacket out like the wings of his namesake. David howls for
joy as they pick up speed along a stretch of deserted, moonlit
beach. The sun is long gone by now, as are the people. They roar up
the steps, and David cuts the engine just across from a small comic
book shop.
"You see that, young protege?"
"Yeah..."
"Those two. The two who work there, they killed my
brothers. And nearly killed me. They are our enemies, little bird.
Don't ever let them see you. I cannot make the same mistakes
again."
"Ok." Shivering a little--already he feels the sickly dread
of persecution thicken in his belly--Raven resettles himself against
David's back, and they take off.
Sometime later they stop again, between a dilapidated fish n'
chips bar and an eerily silent carousel.
"Do you smell that, my little bird?"
He turns his nose to the wind, catching on it the scent of
low tide, of wood and smoke, and then something else--something that
seems so obvious he knows he should've known it before. And then it
comes to him. He can smell blood, pumping away in human veins.
"Blood..." his mouth begins to water hopelessly, and his
stomach contracts with a sudden, desperate need.
"That's right, little bird. Right there on the carousel, a
homeless man sleeps. And he's all yours."
Slowly Raven gets off the bike. "David, what if he's got a
knife? Or a gun?"
"That's the beauty of what we are, Raven. We can't die. We
can be hurt--but we heal. And I will be here, my little bird. Right
behind you."
"Ok, then." He trusts David to back him up, just in case.
He is less afraid of killing--after all, he is desperately hungry--
than of being harmed himself. Carefully he climbs up onto the frozen
carousel, sniffing for his dinner--ah, there. Just in the shadows,
and all alone. Filthy, yes, but food is food.
After all, it's what's on the inside that counts.
He feels the jolting pain again, and in a sudden burst of
energy, he lunges forward. He feels his canines jut suddenly
downward, and then in the next instant crush into soft, sweet human
flesh. The man jolts and gurgles out a cry, but Raven has him
pinned. He drinks long and deep and sucks hard for every drop. He
feels it coat and ease the pain, and it is so gloriously sweet and
syrupy on his tongue that he forgets where he is, who he is, just for
this moment of being.
"Hey! Hey you kid!"
A piercing voice to preternatural ears. He turns, and
someone is there, a flashlight straight into agonizingly sensitive
eyes. A guard, a human, he smells it.
"David! David help!" He turns and David is there, right
there, at his back like he promised, and very nearly picks him up and
puts him on the bike, then swings up himself.
"Hang on, Raven."
They seem to fly across the boardwalk, as sirens pierce the
air. The pain in his ears and eyes numbs him, and he bites through
his lip with new-gained fangs. He grips David's waist with hard
terror, gunshots from a hundred feet away sounding like they're next
to his ear.
And suddenly, they stop.
"David?" They're at the edge of a cliff, looking over to the
thunderous black water below. "David, what now?"
"We fly."
"What?" Raven stares. "But I can't--"
"You're like me, Raven. If I can, so can you. It's easy.
Just jump--and then think fly. You'll be fine, and anyway," he
smirks a little, "I'm right here."
Raven gulps. There's really no choice. Stay and be caught
by the police, or jump and...well, hopefully fly.
"I'll go first, all right? But quickly, they'll follow the
cycle tracks." David backs up, backs up, then off the cliff, and
Raven cries out in instinctive fear. But he floats, evenly and
easily.
Cautiously the boy comes to the edge. He looks down at the
water, then looks up at David, setting his jaw. Don't look down,
they say. So he won't. And he jumps, thinking he'll fall, praying
to fly and--
He does. He floats beside David, a little dazed, but happy
he isn't going to be food for some pacific sealife.
"Come now, little bird. Follow me home, and we'll be safe."
David dives, and Raven follows, and it is not far down the
cliffs till they come to the steel fence and massive debris pile that
mark the entrance. Raven sets down on the pockmarked sand with a
heavy thump, and David follows with a more graceful landing. Inside,
Raven shakes.
"David...why didn't you smell them? Why didn't I?"
He shakes his head. "I don't know, Raven...they've never
patrolled before. Oh, hells...I nearly lost you little bird, yet
I've only just found you." David holds Raven gently, staring at
nothing. "I'm sorry, little bird...I am. No hard feelings, eh?"
"No...but my ears still hurt." He smiles shakily, and David
chuckles.
"Preternatural senses...an advantage and disadvantage all in
one. It's a human world, everything is loud, bright, smelly...time
has blunted their senses, little bird."
"David?"
"Hm?"
"Why do you call me that? Little bird'?"
"Your name, Raven...and you strike one as being small and
quiet. But clever, like those blackbirds, you know, the ones in the
poem..."
"Four and twenty blackbirds?" Raven laughs, then flomps down
onto the creaking, nastily plaid couch. "Interesting choice."
"You mind it?"
"Not really...it makes me feel...I don't know, cared for? My
mother named me Raven you know. For the trickster."
"And so it suits you, my clever little bird." David sits
next to him on the couch, wraps an arm around his shoulders. "You
realize, though, that now you are totally like me? My little bird,
you must never again let the sun touch you."
"But I could look at it?"
"At a ray, maybe. But it would hurt you."
Raven nods. "I see." He looks at his watch. "Christ, it's
almost sunrise!"
David yawns. "So it is. You are tired, I expect?"
"Yeah." Raven stretches, his worn t-shirt rising over his
belly.
"Come and rest." David gets up, holding aside the curtain in
front of one of the beds--a well-done up pile of quilts and pillows.
Raven smiles, and flops out onto the bed, giggling as it
squishes and conforms to his body. He sits up, pulls off his boots,
and then gives a sudden squawk. His feet are heavy, malformed claws,
the big toe opposable to the others.
"Yes...I forgot about that. It helps when hanging upside
down." David shrugs, then sits down beside him. "You mind if I join
you, little bird?"
"No, no, go ahead." Raven folds his legs up under him,
watching David throw off his coat, shirt, and boots. His feet are
similarly clawed, he notices. His body is pale, but sleekly muscled--
he is stronger than his slim appearance would have one believe, like
a panther. David lies down beside his protégé, his son and brother,
wraps him gently in his arms. Raven does not protest.
"You are tense, little bird...do I scare you?"
"No, it's not that...it's just I'm not used to it. I mean, I'm
not sure I should, or what you want from me or--"
David presses a finger to the boy's frantic lips. "Shh. I
understand, little bird. Lie with me and dream. You're like me,
Raven. You have my blood in you. You will understand." He whispers
soothingly.
Trusting David's advice, Raven nestles down against the elder
vampire's startlingly warm body, and soon dozes off.