Disclaimer in Part 1
****************
"Doctor, Mr. Bakley is here for his consultation."
"Thanks, Betty. Send him in." Allan walked into the doctor's office. "Mr. Bakley, please have a seat."
He ignored the doctor's offer, walked right behind the desk and invaded the seated demon's personal space to sniff. [Looks human, doesn't smell human.] Allan was satisfied.
"I *beg* your pard--"
"Sorry, Doc, very sorry. I had to be sure you were what I was told you were." Allan sat down.
The doc had a realization of his own. "You're . . . a vampire?"
"Guilty. . . . Anyways, I'm here about the cure."
"You want the vampire cure."
"I'd like to know more about it first."
"Well, the procedure is quick, irreversible, and infallible. For the next six hours after it's done, nothing in the world can hurt you. Alas, then the cure itself kills you, but painlessly. You just quietly go to dust."
"How much does it cost?"
"No cost to you. I salvage your heart, but you won't need it anyway."
"Is it removal of the heart that kills me?"
"Mr. Bakley, the cure won't work with your heart still inside you."
"Hmm. . . . What about beheading?"
"Decapitation won't kill you. In fact you can be dismembered and each separate part of your body will continue to live, and to obey commands from your brain, even if your brain itself is divided."
"It sounds so fantastic."
"We are talking about a mystical procedure here, Mr. Bakley, not the common butchery you'd find in any human operating room. . . . Any more questions?"
"Just one. What do you do with the heart?"
The demon smiled. "Sorry, that's a trade secret. Now I've patiently answered all of your questions. Do you want the cure or not?"
"I want to buy the recipe for the cure."
"You can't be serious."
"I got $20,000 on me that says I am."
"I'm sorry, Mr. Bakley, but some things aren't for sale at any price. Any monetary price, that is."
"Okay. . . . I understand. Thanks for your time, Doc." Allan stood up, pulled the illegally purchased 9mm pistol from his rear waistband, put four bullets in the demon's head, walked out and shot the screaming nurse and the other waiting patient. He locked the waiting room door, went back to the office, and pulled on latex gloves from the box there. Then he took paper towels soaked with alcohol and wiped down every object he'd touched since entering the office. He heard the commotion in the outside hallway and he heard distant sirens.
[Time's running out.] He grabbed the old red-trimmed black books on the shelf behind the slumped body and opened them. As he expected, they were in a language he never saw before. He knew the cure wouldn't be written down in any human language, and even though the doctor probably had the books memorized, he was vain enough to display them among his human medical texts in his office.
He stuffed the three books into the leather shoulder bag under his coat, covered his head with a towel, put on his demon face, and jumped right through the ceiling air vent into the crawl space. He burst through the floor into the room above just before the cops broke down Dr. Kellerson's waiting room door. The upper room was dark.
Allan removed the towel, rinsed his face, and brushed off the dust and debris from his clothes. Then he ran to the window, opened it and looked down. Nine stories down to the ground, where there were two parked police cruisers with lights flashing and a third pulling into the entrance area. The cops in the office below saw the escape route the killer made and they were maneuvering the doctor's desk into position for one of them to climb up.
Allan timed his jump from the open window perfectly. He landed on the third cruiser just as it pulled to a stop near the building entrance. His boots caved in the car roof, instantly killing the occupants. By the time the cops inside the medical center got back down to the entrance, Allan was looking perfectly normal standing in Union Square Subway Station, headed to Grand Central Station for a train home.
****************
He'd actually been in NYC a week before he made his appointment to see the slog demon. It was a perfect research opportunity and he wasn't going to waste it. Between the demon bar and the rare books collection in the public library, he got some amazing information, including the name of the Gem of Amara. Allan still had no idea how Harmony Kendall ended up with it, much less her not knowing what it was, but that was a mystery that by now had lost interest to him. Harmony was a complete ditz. Who better to have a priceless treasure right under her nose and not realize it?
He also heard a mention that the procedure for the vampire 'cure' was written in demon books, which is how Allan knew he scored as soon as he entered Kellerson's office.
Of course the gun was wiped and sent down a storm drain before Allan left the Big Apple.
****************
Holly had turned into a real hausfrau in his absence. He phoned her that he was coming home and she set out candles in holders on white linen, a pie she baked herself and some new Asian meat sauce she wanted him to try. He'd left about six packs of human blood in the frig before he left but he wasn't surprised that she'd ate them all and they had beef blood for dinner. She kept him sexually gratified in every way he asked and he indulged her whims. He wasn't real crazy about the feminization of his apartment but what the hell. It made Holly happy and he had more important things to think about than interior decorating. The thought of going back to the lifestyle of a lonely bachelor didn't appeal to him much.
****************
"I can't believe you did this! What if somebody tracks them here?"
"Relax, babe, they're just books. Medical books. Just like recipes or spell books, not homing devices." They'd finished dinner and homecoming sex. Then he showed her his prizes; he was expecting praise, not reproach.
"You don't know that! You can't read them; neither can I!" The petite vampire was angry and scared.
"They hold the key . . . what I've been looking for."
"Well that's great for you! You're not the one who's going to get dusted right off!"
"Wha . . . what do you mean?"
Silently she went and got a stake from her closet space. She put it in the bed between them. He was speechless.
"I know you don't trust me. I think you care about me but maybe you don't. But I care about you! I've told you I don't know how many different ways that I love you--"
"I love you too," he said hastily.
"Maybe. Or maybe you only think you love me. But you don't trust me, Allan, and that's not real love."
"Look, Holly--"
"Please! Let me finish. I've been thinking about this for a while now . . . I've got to say this before it's too late. . . . Allan, I know your secret. I've known about your reflection for weeks now. I'm not stupid."
"I know," he whispered.
"Yes but maybe you were hoping I'm blind. Sorry, lover, too many shiny objects in this apartment. When I first saw your reflection, I didn't know what to say . . . I figured you'd tell me in good time, but it's clear you had no intention of telling me. And before I saw your reflection, I saw you heal. It was our second night together. You were sleeping, I playfully bit you . . . too hard, broke the skin. I was sure you'd wake up but you didn't. Then when I looked to see the damage I'd done, it was gone . . . like magic. Not a mark at all. I scratched myself on the arm; it took half a day to heal. I gave you the same scratch, it didn't last two seconds.
"I tried to ignore the superhealing as a fluke, but not combined with the reflection. You've got it, somewhere inside of you. You've got the Jewel of Omar." She had a look of satisfaction mixed with fear.
"I knew you were as smart as you are beautiful. You're my precious baby. . . . It's called the Gem of Amara, according to what I learned in New York."
"Okay. . . . Allan, you can trust me! Whatever you're planning, you can't do it alone. If you won't trust me, who will you trust? I can help whatever it is, if you'll let me. . . . Otherwise, stake me right now and get it over with."
"I want to duplicate it," he said in a low voice.
"I knew it! Why else would you care about the frickin' cure if you've got the fairytale? This is so incredible! You want to make more Gems." Finally she was smiling again.
"Yeah, and better ones . . . if I can."
"What 'better ones'?"
"The Gem has a weakness. I'll show you." He got up, found his old pocket knife and brought it back to their bed. "Don't get panicky on me now." He cut off his left little finger with a grunt as she covered her mouth to stifle a gasp. The hand injury healed immediately but the finger just lay there on the sheet, staining the sheet with blood. He stared at it, glared at it, finally grunted "Move!" The finger didn't obey. Not a twitch. Then, just as it started to turn gray in color, he put the empty space on his hand next to the finger cut and the two merged together. The finger returned to its normal color. Even the blood stain on the sheet was gone . . . reabsorbed. He held up his hand and wiggled his little finger. He'd never seen her eyes look bigger than they did now.
"That is in-freaking-credible!"
"In a way. But if I don't do the merge in time, the finger goes to dust. I have to grow a new one. I found that out the hard way in New York. . . . The thing is, baby, if I can't control a severed finger, I have no way of surviving decapitation. The Gem is good for everything except beheading. The doc said the cure is better. I don't know for sure.
"The Gem is permanent but unique. The cure is reproducible but temporary. If I . . ." He grabbed her hands. "If *we* can figure out how to combine the two, then vampires won't be low demons on the totem pole anymore. We'll be top demons. This world will be ours."
"You'll be a god. You'll be the Vampire Messiah. What am I saying? . . . You *are* a god, now. But you can only get better." She was ecstatic. "We have to figure out how to make this work!"
He pushed the stake and the knife out of their bed, and she jumped him, kissing, licking, nibbling. She was giddy. "I live with a god. I sleep with a god. I never felt so special before."
"You'll always be special to me, precious."
Talking her into moving was easy. Her family moved from Baltimore when she was seven, but her happy memories of early childhood were now mixed with bitter adult experiences in Charm City. She'd go wherever he went. Allan was surprised to find himself going back to California. But very happy it wouldn't be anywhere near Sunnydale.
They drove across the country at night, and Allan taught Holly how to hunt efficiently. Rest stops can be smorgasbords for traveling vampires.
They arrived an hour before dawn and moved into a motel just inside the city limits of San Francisco.
FIN
****************
"Doctor, Mr. Bakley is here for his consultation."
"Thanks, Betty. Send him in." Allan walked into the doctor's office. "Mr. Bakley, please have a seat."
He ignored the doctor's offer, walked right behind the desk and invaded the seated demon's personal space to sniff. [Looks human, doesn't smell human.] Allan was satisfied.
"I *beg* your pard--"
"Sorry, Doc, very sorry. I had to be sure you were what I was told you were." Allan sat down.
The doc had a realization of his own. "You're . . . a vampire?"
"Guilty. . . . Anyways, I'm here about the cure."
"You want the vampire cure."
"I'd like to know more about it first."
"Well, the procedure is quick, irreversible, and infallible. For the next six hours after it's done, nothing in the world can hurt you. Alas, then the cure itself kills you, but painlessly. You just quietly go to dust."
"How much does it cost?"
"No cost to you. I salvage your heart, but you won't need it anyway."
"Is it removal of the heart that kills me?"
"Mr. Bakley, the cure won't work with your heart still inside you."
"Hmm. . . . What about beheading?"
"Decapitation won't kill you. In fact you can be dismembered and each separate part of your body will continue to live, and to obey commands from your brain, even if your brain itself is divided."
"It sounds so fantastic."
"We are talking about a mystical procedure here, Mr. Bakley, not the common butchery you'd find in any human operating room. . . . Any more questions?"
"Just one. What do you do with the heart?"
The demon smiled. "Sorry, that's a trade secret. Now I've patiently answered all of your questions. Do you want the cure or not?"
"I want to buy the recipe for the cure."
"You can't be serious."
"I got $20,000 on me that says I am."
"I'm sorry, Mr. Bakley, but some things aren't for sale at any price. Any monetary price, that is."
"Okay. . . . I understand. Thanks for your time, Doc." Allan stood up, pulled the illegally purchased 9mm pistol from his rear waistband, put four bullets in the demon's head, walked out and shot the screaming nurse and the other waiting patient. He locked the waiting room door, went back to the office, and pulled on latex gloves from the box there. Then he took paper towels soaked with alcohol and wiped down every object he'd touched since entering the office. He heard the commotion in the outside hallway and he heard distant sirens.
[Time's running out.] He grabbed the old red-trimmed black books on the shelf behind the slumped body and opened them. As he expected, they were in a language he never saw before. He knew the cure wouldn't be written down in any human language, and even though the doctor probably had the books memorized, he was vain enough to display them among his human medical texts in his office.
He stuffed the three books into the leather shoulder bag under his coat, covered his head with a towel, put on his demon face, and jumped right through the ceiling air vent into the crawl space. He burst through the floor into the room above just before the cops broke down Dr. Kellerson's waiting room door. The upper room was dark.
Allan removed the towel, rinsed his face, and brushed off the dust and debris from his clothes. Then he ran to the window, opened it and looked down. Nine stories down to the ground, where there were two parked police cruisers with lights flashing and a third pulling into the entrance area. The cops in the office below saw the escape route the killer made and they were maneuvering the doctor's desk into position for one of them to climb up.
Allan timed his jump from the open window perfectly. He landed on the third cruiser just as it pulled to a stop near the building entrance. His boots caved in the car roof, instantly killing the occupants. By the time the cops inside the medical center got back down to the entrance, Allan was looking perfectly normal standing in Union Square Subway Station, headed to Grand Central Station for a train home.
****************
He'd actually been in NYC a week before he made his appointment to see the slog demon. It was a perfect research opportunity and he wasn't going to waste it. Between the demon bar and the rare books collection in the public library, he got some amazing information, including the name of the Gem of Amara. Allan still had no idea how Harmony Kendall ended up with it, much less her not knowing what it was, but that was a mystery that by now had lost interest to him. Harmony was a complete ditz. Who better to have a priceless treasure right under her nose and not realize it?
He also heard a mention that the procedure for the vampire 'cure' was written in demon books, which is how Allan knew he scored as soon as he entered Kellerson's office.
Of course the gun was wiped and sent down a storm drain before Allan left the Big Apple.
****************
Holly had turned into a real hausfrau in his absence. He phoned her that he was coming home and she set out candles in holders on white linen, a pie she baked herself and some new Asian meat sauce she wanted him to try. He'd left about six packs of human blood in the frig before he left but he wasn't surprised that she'd ate them all and they had beef blood for dinner. She kept him sexually gratified in every way he asked and he indulged her whims. He wasn't real crazy about the feminization of his apartment but what the hell. It made Holly happy and he had more important things to think about than interior decorating. The thought of going back to the lifestyle of a lonely bachelor didn't appeal to him much.
****************
"I can't believe you did this! What if somebody tracks them here?"
"Relax, babe, they're just books. Medical books. Just like recipes or spell books, not homing devices." They'd finished dinner and homecoming sex. Then he showed her his prizes; he was expecting praise, not reproach.
"You don't know that! You can't read them; neither can I!" The petite vampire was angry and scared.
"They hold the key . . . what I've been looking for."
"Well that's great for you! You're not the one who's going to get dusted right off!"
"Wha . . . what do you mean?"
Silently she went and got a stake from her closet space. She put it in the bed between them. He was speechless.
"I know you don't trust me. I think you care about me but maybe you don't. But I care about you! I've told you I don't know how many different ways that I love you--"
"I love you too," he said hastily.
"Maybe. Or maybe you only think you love me. But you don't trust me, Allan, and that's not real love."
"Look, Holly--"
"Please! Let me finish. I've been thinking about this for a while now . . . I've got to say this before it's too late. . . . Allan, I know your secret. I've known about your reflection for weeks now. I'm not stupid."
"I know," he whispered.
"Yes but maybe you were hoping I'm blind. Sorry, lover, too many shiny objects in this apartment. When I first saw your reflection, I didn't know what to say . . . I figured you'd tell me in good time, but it's clear you had no intention of telling me. And before I saw your reflection, I saw you heal. It was our second night together. You were sleeping, I playfully bit you . . . too hard, broke the skin. I was sure you'd wake up but you didn't. Then when I looked to see the damage I'd done, it was gone . . . like magic. Not a mark at all. I scratched myself on the arm; it took half a day to heal. I gave you the same scratch, it didn't last two seconds.
"I tried to ignore the superhealing as a fluke, but not combined with the reflection. You've got it, somewhere inside of you. You've got the Jewel of Omar." She had a look of satisfaction mixed with fear.
"I knew you were as smart as you are beautiful. You're my precious baby. . . . It's called the Gem of Amara, according to what I learned in New York."
"Okay. . . . Allan, you can trust me! Whatever you're planning, you can't do it alone. If you won't trust me, who will you trust? I can help whatever it is, if you'll let me. . . . Otherwise, stake me right now and get it over with."
"I want to duplicate it," he said in a low voice.
"I knew it! Why else would you care about the frickin' cure if you've got the fairytale? This is so incredible! You want to make more Gems." Finally she was smiling again.
"Yeah, and better ones . . . if I can."
"What 'better ones'?"
"The Gem has a weakness. I'll show you." He got up, found his old pocket knife and brought it back to their bed. "Don't get panicky on me now." He cut off his left little finger with a grunt as she covered her mouth to stifle a gasp. The hand injury healed immediately but the finger just lay there on the sheet, staining the sheet with blood. He stared at it, glared at it, finally grunted "Move!" The finger didn't obey. Not a twitch. Then, just as it started to turn gray in color, he put the empty space on his hand next to the finger cut and the two merged together. The finger returned to its normal color. Even the blood stain on the sheet was gone . . . reabsorbed. He held up his hand and wiggled his little finger. He'd never seen her eyes look bigger than they did now.
"That is in-freaking-credible!"
"In a way. But if I don't do the merge in time, the finger goes to dust. I have to grow a new one. I found that out the hard way in New York. . . . The thing is, baby, if I can't control a severed finger, I have no way of surviving decapitation. The Gem is good for everything except beheading. The doc said the cure is better. I don't know for sure.
"The Gem is permanent but unique. The cure is reproducible but temporary. If I . . ." He grabbed her hands. "If *we* can figure out how to combine the two, then vampires won't be low demons on the totem pole anymore. We'll be top demons. This world will be ours."
"You'll be a god. You'll be the Vampire Messiah. What am I saying? . . . You *are* a god, now. But you can only get better." She was ecstatic. "We have to figure out how to make this work!"
He pushed the stake and the knife out of their bed, and she jumped him, kissing, licking, nibbling. She was giddy. "I live with a god. I sleep with a god. I never felt so special before."
"You'll always be special to me, precious."
Talking her into moving was easy. Her family moved from Baltimore when she was seven, but her happy memories of early childhood were now mixed with bitter adult experiences in Charm City. She'd go wherever he went. Allan was surprised to find himself going back to California. But very happy it wouldn't be anywhere near Sunnydale.
They drove across the country at night, and Allan taught Holly how to hunt efficiently. Rest stops can be smorgasbords for traveling vampires.
They arrived an hour before dawn and moved into a motel just inside the city limits of San Francisco.
FIN