Title: The Last Vampire
Author: Annie1230
Rating: Pg-13
Pairing: B/F
Disclaimer: As per usual, don't own jack, except for my ever growing collection of cd's...I can't stop buying them...what the hell is wrong with me?!?...Joss' and ME or whoever own the Buffy bits. Christopher Pike owns the main plotlines.
Notes: Sorry for the delay, I know I told a bunch of ppl it would be out earlier but life stuff happened. Thanks to everyone who gave me feedback. I wasn't really expecting that good of a reception with this story so I was very verrrryy happy. Thus I am continuing the story. Keep the feedback coming and I'll give you a surprise if you ask nicely ;P.
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Chapter 2 - Between Rupture and Rapture...
I don't need that much sleep, two hours is good for me, which is usually when the sun is at it's highest and brightest. Sunlight does affect me, but it's not my mortal enemy like portrayed in Bram Stoker's Dracula. Actually I read Dracula when it first came out...took ten minutes. I have a photographic memory if you're wondering with a hundred percent comprehension, I thought it was very yummy. Unknown to Mr. Stoker he had the opportunity to meet a real vampire when I went to visit him one dismal English night in 1899. I made sure to be very sweet to him, he autographed my book and I gave him one hell of a kiss before I left. I was tempted to drink from him, but I thought it might have ruined any chance of him ever writing a sequel, which I vehemently told him to do. Mortals rarely ever dwell for lengths of time on things that frighten them, even though most of today's horror writers say otherwise. But Stoker was very perceptive, he knew there was something off about me, something not quite of the normal. I think he kinda had a bit of a crush.
But, the sun, that eternally burning flame in the sky, greatly weakens my power. When it's daylight, often when the sun is straight up, I feel drowsy, not so tired that it becomes a necessity for rest, but I lose my enthusiasm for things. I'm not as strong or fast during the days either, but hey, I'm still stronger than any mortal. I don't like the day as much as the light, and you may say 'Well duh.' I prefer the dark, blurred edges of the night landscapes...I think one day I want to visit Pluto.
Despite my lack of enthusiasm for the daylight and its sun, I'm up at dawn the next morning. First thing I do... call the three businessmen in charge of my accounts -- each are located on different continents -- I mention that I am extremely angry at the fact that some investigator was able to peek into my finances. With each protestation I listen quietly and hear the innocence that each of them is speaking with, and I believe them. They're not lying, which is a good for them. My admirations for Mr. Summers' detecting skills climb another notch. He must have used very subtle means to get into my business Or...he had help. And of course he had help, but I know that he turned against the man who sent him to me as well. When he found out that I was rolling in it he must have thought he could make out better by going after me directly. This leads me to think that whoever had hired Summers doesn't know any real details of my life, meaning where I live and the like. Hmm, but, he could notice Summers disappearing act and come looking for whoever killed him. I have time, I think, but not as much as I would like. Naturally, I enjoy being the hunter, not the hunted; so, I will kill whoever hired Summers as surely as I took him off the face of the earth.
Later I make arrangements through my American businessman to be enrolled at Sunnydale High that day. The wheels start rolling and I'm given a new identity. I'm Lara Adams, my guardian, Mrs. Adams, is dropping by the school with my transcripts to enroll me in as many classes with Elizabeth Summers as possible. My arm of influence stretches like the river of blood I have left across history. I'm never going to meet the fake Mrs. Adams, and most likely she'll never meet me, unless she decides to open her mouth to talk about her efforts on Lara's behalf. Then she will never talk again. All of my...associates...respect my wishes when it comes to being silent, and they get paid for showing respect.
That night I'm thirsty, and restless. How often do I need blood? After a week I start to crave it. A month and I can think of nothing but the next dripping throat. And my strength begins to weaken. I don't die without it, not readily anyway. The longest I've gone without a human to drink from is six months and I don't recommend it. I only drink animal blood if I'm desperate. When I feed from a human I feel truly satisfied, the life force, more than the physical liquid is what makes me hunger for more. Defining that life force is difficult, it exists; the feel of a beating heart when a person's vein is in my mouth; the heat of their desires. An animal's life force is crude, weak. Drinking from a human feels like you absorb their essence, their will. It takes a whole hell of a lot of willpower to live for fifty centuries.
I don't change a human by drinking from them. And they don't change if they drink from me, just more legend. I don't know how the legend of oral exchange and transformation started. I can only make another of my kind by exchanging blood with the person. And we're not talking a drop here kiddies. My blood has to overwhelm their system before he or she will be immortal. Of course, I don't make vampires these days.
I drive south, I'm in SoCal before I stop; it's wicked late. There's a pretty big bar of to the side of the road, and I make a smooth entrance. The greasy guys look me over and exchange looks with their buddies. I don't get carded when I go for a drink, not after a hard glance anyway. There's a lot more men than women, so I decide to go for a male tonite, the women in here are hard to detect from the guys anyway. I'm searching for a specific type, someone passing through, and then I spot him, sitting alone in a corner. He's big, but not fat, semi muscular. He's unshaven, his warm jacket isn't dirty, but there's oil stains that did not come out from the last time it was cleaned. He has a sweet face, sitting behind his frosted beer he looks lonely. Most likely a long distance truck driver. I know the type well; I drink from them a lot.
I sit directly in front of him and he looks up surprised. I smile; the expression can disarm and alarm, but he genuinely looks happy. We talk a little after he orders me a beer. I don't ask if he's married -- and he doesn't bring it up. After a while we leave and he takes me to a motel but I would have been satisfied with the back of his truck, when I tell him this he just shakes his head and pats my leg. I decide then that he's a gentleman and I won't kill him.
While he's undressing me I bite into his neck. He sighs in pleasure and leans his head back, but he's not too sure in what I am doing. He stays in that position the whole time I drink from him. Hypnotized by the feeling. It feels like being caressed from the inside out -- with the tip of my nails. Which it feels to me like it always does, sweet and natural, as natural as sex. But I don't have sex with him. Instead I bite the tip of my tongue and let a drop of my blood fall into the wound, and the mark disappears instantly, leaves no scar and I lay him down to rest. I drank a couple pints and he's gonna be out for a while, may even wake up with a headache. "Forget." I whisper to him. He won't remember me, most don't.
The next morning I'm in Mr. Castro's history class. My black dress in very fashionable, tight, the hem is about four inches above my knees. I have killer legs, I don't mind showing off a bit. My dark wavy hair hangs down past my shoulders, and I don't wear makeup or jewelry. Elizabeth Summers sits to my right, and I study her with interest.
Her face has depth, depth her father's couldn't even imagine. She looks almost like any other teenage California girl, long blonde hair, and a slim frame. But her inner character pushes through, and I can feel something there, something I've never really felt from a mortal, but I can't really place it. Her inner character makes a mockery of her beauty though. She's already much more than a girl. It shows in her emerald eyes, soft but quick, in her silent pauses when she takes in what her classmates say. She reflects on it, and either accepts it or rejects its, not caring what others think, Elizabeth Summers is her own person, and I like that about her.
There's a boy that sits to her right that she talks to, his names Alexander, Xander she calls him. And he's clearly her boyfriend. He's a scrawny thing, but his whole face lights up when he looks at her. He's assertive, but not pushy, just full of life. His hands are always busy touching her. I find myself liking him too and wonder if he's going to turn out to be an obstacle, but I really hope not. I hate killing young people.
Xander's clothes are simple, a t-shirt and a pair of faded jeans, I suspect that his family doesn't have much money. But Elizabeth is dressed...well...damn. It makes me think of the million I offered to her father.
She doesn't appear upset. Her father often disappears for days at a time. I clear my throat and she looks over at me. "Hey," she says. "Are you new?" "Hi, yea just checked in this morning." I offer her a hand "Lara Adams." "Buffy Summers." She sakes my hand and I have to try not to laugh at the nickname that someone has unfortunately given this beautiful girl. "Buffy?" I ask innocently. She sighs and gives me a light smile, which I find invariably attractive. "It's a nickname, well it rapidly became my name, Elizabeth, is my full name." I just smile at her and while we're shaking hands I feel her warm touch, she's very healthy. I can smell blood through skin and tell if they have any serious sickness-- even years before the disease rears its head. Elizab...Buffy, continues to stare at me, and I bat by eyelashes at her. Behind her Xander has stopped talking to a classmate and looks over. "So where are you from?" she asks. "Los Angeles." "Really, you kinda have an accent." Her comment startles me for a second, I'm a master at accents. "Yeah? What accent?" I ask genuinely interested. "I don't really know. English, French maybe? -- it sounds like both." I lived in England and France for extended periods. "I travel around a lot, could be hearing that." "Has to be." She turns around and gestures to her side. "Lara, this is my boyfriend Xander Harris. Xand this is Lara Adams." He nods and looks me over. "Hey, Lara." He's not defensive at all. I mean why should he be, his girlfriend is straight as a board right? Right. For the moment anyway, but there's something there. He trusts in Buffy's love, and in his own. That's going to change. I start thinking of Hank's computer, which is left in his office. I know the police will be snooping soon and will probably take the computer away, I didn't take it cause then I would have a hell of a time trying to convince Buffy on why I had it, let alone trying to get her to open the data files.
"Hey Xander," I say. "Good to meet you." "Same here," he says. "Nice dress." He practically drools and it earns him a nudge from his blonde girlfriend. I roll my eyes slightly which Buffy sees and it makes her laugh, and I love the sound instantly. "Thanks." I think it would have been more beneficial to me if I met Buffy without the boy toy hanging around. It would have been easier to start a relationship with her that way, without him oogling the two of us at the same time. But I'm still pretty confident in my ability to lure Buffy's interests...What person can resist what I offer? I take my eyes from Xander and focus back on his girlfriend. "What are we learning in this class?" I ask. "I'm pretty sure it's European history, it's an overview. We're on the French Revolution now. Do you know anything about it?" "I knew Marie Antoinette personally, we were buds." I lie. I knew of Antoinette, I never really hung around the French nobleman, they were wicked boring. I was there when she was beheaded, now that was a good time. I sighed when the blade sliced her across the neck. The guillotine truly was one of the only execution devices that disturbed me. I've been hanged on a few occasions, crucified around four, but whatever, I got over it. Losing your head however, that's the end of it. I was there for the beginning of the French Revolution, I was in America by the end.
"Did she really say 'Let them eat cake'?" she asks, playing along with the joke. "I believe that was her aunt who said that." The teacher, Mr. Castro, enters the room. One word for this modern educator comes to mind, pathetic. He only makes an attempt to smile at the more attractive young girls in the room. He's an attractive guy, in that aftershave commercial sort of way. I nod towards his direction. "What's he like?" Buffy shrugs. "Not bad." "But not good?" She looks me up and down. "I think he'll like you." She says with a raised eyebrow and a smirk. I wink back and nod. "Gotcha."
The class starts and Castro introduces me to everyone and asks me to stand and talk about myself. I just stay firmly planted in my seat and say ten words. He looks put out, but he lets it go and starts class.
Over the years I've come to the conclusion that humanity has an illusion about its history. Scholars argue how real their texts are, when something as early as the Second World War is always remembered with absolutely no feeling for the time. Feeling, not events, at least for me; are the essence of history. World War II is remembered as an adventure against impossible odds, when in reality it was an unending parade of suffering. Mortals forget quickly. I don't. Even me, a bloodthirsty harlot of immense proportions, have never witnessed a glorious war.
Our teacher, Mr. Castro, is the type of man with no feeling for the past. The least he could do is get his facts right. The sun is making me tired, and I'm bored. He catches me peeking out the window. "Miss Adams," interrupting my reverie. "Could you grace us with your thoughts on the French nobility?" "I think they were very noble." I say. He doesn't get this. "You approve of their excesses at the peasants' expense?" I look towards Buffy before answering. I know she doesn't want the typical teenage boy like she has, not inside anyway, and I don't intend on acting like a teenager...ha, or a guy for that matter. She's watching me. "No. I don't approve, and I don't disapprove." I say. "I accept it. People in power always take advantage of those without." "That's one heck of a generalization." Mr. Castro replies. "What school did you go to before moving to Sunnydale?" "Does it matter?" "It sounds to me like you have a problem with authority." He says trying to sound smart. "That depends." "On?" "If the authority is a fool or not." I say this smiling brightly so he knows its him I'm talking about. He wisely passes me over and moves on to another subject.
When the bell rings I'm asked to stay behind. I wanted to use this time to chat up my new blonde friend, but I'm forced to watch as she leaves the room with Xander. Just before she leaves the room she glances back at me and Mr. Castro taps his pencil to get my attention. "Is there a problem?" I ask with false sweetness.
"I hope not," Mr. Castro says. "I am concerned that we get off to a good start though. That we can understand where one another are coming from." I stare at him, not enough to have the effect that it did on that flower I mentioned, but enough so he's squirming in his seat. "I think I know exactly where you are coming from." I say. He looks at me annoyed. "Really? And where is that?" At this moment I catch a whiff of the alcohol on his breath, from the night before, and the night before that, and the night before that...I think you get where I'm going with this right? The circles under his eyes show that his liver is close to seventy, while he's only thirty. His tough stance is totally just an image and his hands are shaking as he sits there waiting for my response.
"You think I have a bad attitude right?" I say. "Truthfully, I'm not what you think. If you knew me like you think you do you would value my understanding in history...and other things." I say trailing off.
"What grade do you want to get in my class?" His question makes me laugh, that's how ridiculous it truly is. I lean over his desk and pinch his cheek, hard enough to make him jump. I was actually thinking about doing the same to his dick, but he's lucky. "I'm sure you're going to give Lara almost any grade she wants, yeah?" He swipes his hand at the side of his face trying to brush my hand away, but of course it's already gone. "You better watch it miss!" Again he makes me giggle. "I'll be watching you, Mr. Castro. Just to make sure you don't die from drinking like a fish...I need a good grade ya know." He tries to protest weakly. "I don't drink." "And I don't give a shit about my grade." I say over my shoulder.
I can't catch Buffy before my next class starts, which I don't have with her. My "guardian" couldn't match my schedule to hers exactly. So I have to sit through fifty minutes of trig, which of course I know almost as much of as history, except I manage not to alienate the teacher in this class.
I don't have next period with her either but we do have biology together fourth. I have P.E. now, and I brought a white t-shirt and blue shorts to wear. The boyfriend, Xander, happens to be in this class, I watch him stroll over and stand beside me as the teacher goes through the attendance.
"Why did Castro ask you to stay behind?" he asks. "He wanted to ask me out." "He's into all the girls...so, what did you think of Buffy?" The boy seems kind of paranoid. Maybe he picked up on something between us. Now he's trying to figure out where exactly I'm coming from. "I think she needs some love." I say He gives me a look, and then not sure what to say, laughs. "I give her more than she can handle." I catch him looking at my body. "You're really beautiful, probably got guys hitting on you all the time." I adjust my shirt. "...Girls too, but I just hit them back. Hard." Xander just smiles back and nods his head nervously.
Hmm. Phys ed archery. Good. The bow and arrow is bringing back memories. But I don't think the memory of Arjuna, Krishna's best friend and the greatest archer ever. is a memory I would want to dwell on at the moment. Arjuna killed more vampires than any mortal. With one bow. In one night. Because Krishna wished it.
Xander follows me out onto the field but keeps his distance. I scared him, which I don't think is a bad thing. I'm wearing very strong black sunglasses. While I'm gathering my bow and arrows a very pale girl, with red hair, almost like blood, speaks to me. "You're new right?" she asks. "Yeah. F-Lara Adams. You are....?" "Willow...Rosenberg." she offers her hand. "Nice to meet you." I grab her hand with mine and on contact I can feel that this girl will be dead in less than a year. She has sick blood. I grasp her hand to long and she looks at me strangely. "You're pretty strong." I smile at her. "For a girl?" She rubs her hand on her side. I think I bruised her. "I guess." she says. "So Red, what's up with the name? It makes you sound like a nerd or a tree." She smiles at the nickname, I have a tendency to give people I like nicknames. She also likes how direct I am, like no one's ever been that way to her before. "I hate it, my mom gave it to me." "You should change it when you get out of high school. To something like...Callie or Zan or Danette. I bet your mom buys your clothes." I'm a revelation to her. She laughs. "She does. But since I am a nerd, shouldn't I look the part? "You think you're a nerd because you thing you're so smart. I'm a lot smarter than you and look how hot I am." I lift up my bow. "Where are we shooting these things?" "I think it would be best if we shot them in the targets." she says sarcastically.
A few minutes later we're at the end of the football field shooting. I'm impressing the redhead when I hit the bull's-eye three in a row. She's even more impressed when she has to use all her strength to yank them out. What she doesn't know is that I could have split the shaft of my first arrow with the second and third if I wanted to show off. Which I kind of am. But I don't care. My mood is frivolous. First happy thoughts about B (which I decided is my nickname for her now) and Xander, and now I've taking a pretty quick liking to Willow. I help her get the arrows out of the targets. "I'm guessing you've shot before." "Yup, trained by a master marksmen." She pulls the arrow out and almost falls. "You could be in the Olympics." I shrug. "Not really my sitch." "Yeah." She says nodding. "I feel that way about math, I'm great at it, but it bores me to tears." "What do you like?" "Writing." "What do you like to write?" "I'm not really sure. I like strange things. I read a lot of horror books. Do you like horror?" "Yea." I want to make a joke about how close it is to my heart, but I get blindsided by a sense of deja vu. And I haven't had that feeling in centuries. The feeling is intense and I grab me head to steady myself while I try and look for the source of it. Red reaches to help and I can feel her sickness again. I don't really know what she has, but I have a good idea. "You okay?" she asks. "Yeah." I wipe away the cool filmy sweat that gathered on my forehead. It's clear, not tinted pink like it usually is when I drink massive amounts of blood. The sun is burning and I lower my head. Red is staring and I get this sense that her body is very close to mine, almost overlapping. I don't like that sensation either. I'm starting to think I'm getting more sensitive to the sun, I haven't been out midday like this in years. "I feel like I met you before." she says slightly puzzled. I look at her and the truth of the matter finally hits me. "Me too." Over centuries, ad I have said, I got the ability to read emotions. At first I thought is was because of y observatory skills, and I still think that may be at least part of it. But I can sense a person's feelings without studying them closely, and it crazes me, that would mean a sense that's not physical. And I can't accept that yet.
Once in a while there are one or two mortals I bump into that have the same sensitivity. And yeah, I killed them, or most of them, because they could sense what I was...or wasn't. Not Human. Something else, they would say to their friends, dangerous. I killed them, I didn't want to, they could understand me.
Red is one of these people. My suspicions are confirmed when I pick up my bow and arrow and get distracted. Castro is standing behind the school gym, talking to a blond. And touching. Apparently making a move on the girl. He's maybe three hundred yards in the distance, but with the bow and arrow I can definitely get a hit. No one would ever believe that it was me who hit him. I could shoot him straight in the chest. I can make it so the Red doesn't see where the arrow goes. Killing Hank Summers arose my desire to kill again. I guess violence does beget violence...at least for a vampire, or just me. Nothing satisfies like the sight of blood, unless it's the taste of it. I slip the arrow into the bow. My eyes narrow. Castro strokes the girl's hair. Out of the corner of my eye I can see Red watching me. Seeing what? Sensing what? Bloodlust? Her next words are a shocker. "Don't." she says.
My arm wavers. I'm amazed and I find myself asking who exactly Willow is. "Don't what?" I ask. "You don't want to shoot anyone." I laugh out loud when in reality her remark gives me the chills. "What makes you think I want to shoot someone?" She smiles and relaxes. The innocent tone helped. I start wondering if Willow is one of those rare mortals who can fool even me. "I just got this feeling like you were going to." she says. "Sorry." "Do I look dangerous?" She shakes her head. "you're different from everyone else though. At least anyone I've met." First B notices I have an accent, and now Red can like what...read my mind? I decide to keep a low profile for the rest of the day.
I don't really thing she read my mind. If I did, like her or not, she'd be dead before the sunset. "You're just dazzled by my beauty." I say. She laughs and nods. "Well it's not very often someone as pretty as you is caught talking to a geek like me." I poker her lightly with the tip of my arrow. "Tell me more about what stories you like." As I put the arrow in the bow I think that Mr. Castro will live to see at least one more day. "Especially you're favorite horror stories."
Red tells me about all the authors and books she has read for the rest of the period. I smile when she says that Dracula is her all time favorite. I purposely miss the bull's eye on a few occasions, but I don't know I fooled her or not. She never takes her eyes off of me.
Next period I'm off to biology. B sits in the back at a lab table. I waste no time in walking straight back to sit next to her. She raises her eyebrow almost like she's about to tell me someone else sits here, then she changes her mind.
"How was archery?" she asks. "You talked to Xander?" I ask. "Yup." There's the boyfriend. between us yet again. I think again of the files in Mr. Summers' computer. Hopefully the police haven't gotten to them yet. If they think Mr. Summers was met with a little foul play, I'll definitely be paid a visit. I need to either get to the files soon, or get rid of them all together. I decide I should speed things up a bit, or run the risk of blowing my whole seduction. I'm getting to those files tonite. I reach over and touch B's shoulder. "Hey, can you do me a favor?" I ask. She looks at my fingertips on her bare shoulder. My touch is warm...just wait till she feels it hot. "Uh, sure." she says. "My parents bailed for a few days, and I need help moving some stuff into my house. They're in the garage." I add, "I could pay you, I mean, you don't have to it's just I haven't really made a whole lot of friends yet." "You don't have to pay me. I'd be happy to help this weekend." "Actually one of the things is my bed. I had to sleep on my floor last night." "Wow, that sucks." Buffy takes a breath and thinks. I leave my hand on her shoulder, and I know that my skin on hers is starting to become part of her thought process. But her skin is having an effect on me too. It's like a tingling sensation. When she looks back at me I now she could feel it by the look in her eyes, and I can't help but wonder what it is about this girl. "I, well I have to work after school." "Till what time?" "Nine-ish. But then I'm supposed to go to see Xander." "He's a cutie." I say. My eyes rest on hers. It's like they're saying , yes, he's a handsome boy, but there's more to life than love. At least those are my intentions. But I can't help feeling as I'm looking at this girl that she could be one of those rare mortals I could love. Even though there's something different about her. This is a big revelation for me, just like the whole day. I haven't loved a man or women in centuries. And I haven't loved anyone as much as my wife...yes wife...Lavanya . But I guess that story can come later. Yet Lavanya comes to mind when I stare at Buffy. And I finally know why she seems so familiar to me. She has Lavanya's eyes.
Buffy blinks. "We've been together for a year." I sigh without even knowing it. After fifty centuries I still miss Lavanya. "A year can go by pretty damn quick." I say quietly.
But not five thousand -- the long years have built up behind me like ghosts, weary and wary. Time has sharpened my caution and all but destroyed playfulness. I start thinking how fun it would be to walk through the park with B...in the dark. I could kiss her, I could bite her-- gently. I sigh again, heavily. This girl doesn't even know she's sitting next to her father's murderer.
"I can help you." She says clearly. My eyes don't intimidate him as much as I thought. I can't figure if it's because of her internal strength, of if my stare is softened by my feelings for her. "But I'll have to check with Xander." I finally pull my hand back. "if you check with Xander he'll say it's fine as long as he can come along." I shrug. "All guys are like clingy like that." "Well can he come? I mean he's stronger than me, he could help get it done faster." "No." My answer confuses her and I need to think of some reason quickly. "My parents don't like guys in the house, I really don't feel like them coming home unexpectedly and getting in trouble." She nods and seems to accept the answer, but she is suspicious I can feel it. "I'll talk to him, maybe I can come later. What time do you go to bed?" "Late." The lecture in biology is about photosynthesis. The sun's energy is changed into chemical energy through the presence of green chlorophyll, and how the green pigment in turn supports the entire food chain. The teacher compares chlorophyll and red blood cells, which interests me, he says they are practically identical. Except in chlorophyll a magnesium atom replaces the iron atom. I look over at Buffy and think in the evolutionary chain. only one atom separates us.
Of course, evolution would never have created a vampire. We, were an accident, a horrible mistake. It suddenly occurs to me that if Buffy does help me with her father's files I'm going to have to kill her. She smiles as I look at her. I can tell she likes me already. But I don't smile back. My thoughts are getting too dark.
The class ends and I give B my address, but not my phone number. I'm not stupid here, if he can't call, he can't cancel on me. It's the address of a new house that was rented for me this morning. Mr. Summers has my other address on his computer files, I don't want Buffy to draw the connections when and if we do get to his office. Buffy promises to come over as soon as she can, She doesn't have sex on her mind, I don't even know if she's aware she's sexually attracted to me yet, but I know she is. She has something else on her mind something I can't fathom. Still, I'll give her sex if she wants it...I'll give her more than she can ask for.
I go to my new house, just a plain suburban thing that's already furnished. As fast as I can. without breaking a sweat, I move most of the furniture into the garage. After that I go to the master bedroom, draw all the shades, and lie down on the hardwood floor and close my eyes. I try to tell myself that it's the sun that drained my strength. While I'm dozing off I know realistically it's the people I've met today that cut deep into me, where my iron blood flows like a black river over the forgotten dusty ages , dripping onto the green earth, onto the present, like the curse of the Lord. I hope I dream of Krishna as I begin to sleep. But I know it's the devil that will be there.
Yaksha, the first vampire. Just like I'm the last.
TBC.... If you all give me more reviews....mwahaha, you made me a junkie...I need my fix.
Author: Annie1230
Rating: Pg-13
Pairing: B/F
Disclaimer: As per usual, don't own jack, except for my ever growing collection of cd's...I can't stop buying them...what the hell is wrong with me?!?...Joss' and ME or whoever own the Buffy bits. Christopher Pike owns the main plotlines.
Notes: Sorry for the delay, I know I told a bunch of ppl it would be out earlier but life stuff happened. Thanks to everyone who gave me feedback. I wasn't really expecting that good of a reception with this story so I was very verrrryy happy. Thus I am continuing the story. Keep the feedback coming and I'll give you a surprise if you ask nicely ;P.
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Chapter 2 - Between Rupture and Rapture...
I don't need that much sleep, two hours is good for me, which is usually when the sun is at it's highest and brightest. Sunlight does affect me, but it's not my mortal enemy like portrayed in Bram Stoker's Dracula. Actually I read Dracula when it first came out...took ten minutes. I have a photographic memory if you're wondering with a hundred percent comprehension, I thought it was very yummy. Unknown to Mr. Stoker he had the opportunity to meet a real vampire when I went to visit him one dismal English night in 1899. I made sure to be very sweet to him, he autographed my book and I gave him one hell of a kiss before I left. I was tempted to drink from him, but I thought it might have ruined any chance of him ever writing a sequel, which I vehemently told him to do. Mortals rarely ever dwell for lengths of time on things that frighten them, even though most of today's horror writers say otherwise. But Stoker was very perceptive, he knew there was something off about me, something not quite of the normal. I think he kinda had a bit of a crush.
But, the sun, that eternally burning flame in the sky, greatly weakens my power. When it's daylight, often when the sun is straight up, I feel drowsy, not so tired that it becomes a necessity for rest, but I lose my enthusiasm for things. I'm not as strong or fast during the days either, but hey, I'm still stronger than any mortal. I don't like the day as much as the light, and you may say 'Well duh.' I prefer the dark, blurred edges of the night landscapes...I think one day I want to visit Pluto.
Despite my lack of enthusiasm for the daylight and its sun, I'm up at dawn the next morning. First thing I do... call the three businessmen in charge of my accounts -- each are located on different continents -- I mention that I am extremely angry at the fact that some investigator was able to peek into my finances. With each protestation I listen quietly and hear the innocence that each of them is speaking with, and I believe them. They're not lying, which is a good for them. My admirations for Mr. Summers' detecting skills climb another notch. He must have used very subtle means to get into my business Or...he had help. And of course he had help, but I know that he turned against the man who sent him to me as well. When he found out that I was rolling in it he must have thought he could make out better by going after me directly. This leads me to think that whoever had hired Summers doesn't know any real details of my life, meaning where I live and the like. Hmm, but, he could notice Summers disappearing act and come looking for whoever killed him. I have time, I think, but not as much as I would like. Naturally, I enjoy being the hunter, not the hunted; so, I will kill whoever hired Summers as surely as I took him off the face of the earth.
Later I make arrangements through my American businessman to be enrolled at Sunnydale High that day. The wheels start rolling and I'm given a new identity. I'm Lara Adams, my guardian, Mrs. Adams, is dropping by the school with my transcripts to enroll me in as many classes with Elizabeth Summers as possible. My arm of influence stretches like the river of blood I have left across history. I'm never going to meet the fake Mrs. Adams, and most likely she'll never meet me, unless she decides to open her mouth to talk about her efforts on Lara's behalf. Then she will never talk again. All of my...associates...respect my wishes when it comes to being silent, and they get paid for showing respect.
That night I'm thirsty, and restless. How often do I need blood? After a week I start to crave it. A month and I can think of nothing but the next dripping throat. And my strength begins to weaken. I don't die without it, not readily anyway. The longest I've gone without a human to drink from is six months and I don't recommend it. I only drink animal blood if I'm desperate. When I feed from a human I feel truly satisfied, the life force, more than the physical liquid is what makes me hunger for more. Defining that life force is difficult, it exists; the feel of a beating heart when a person's vein is in my mouth; the heat of their desires. An animal's life force is crude, weak. Drinking from a human feels like you absorb their essence, their will. It takes a whole hell of a lot of willpower to live for fifty centuries.
I don't change a human by drinking from them. And they don't change if they drink from me, just more legend. I don't know how the legend of oral exchange and transformation started. I can only make another of my kind by exchanging blood with the person. And we're not talking a drop here kiddies. My blood has to overwhelm their system before he or she will be immortal. Of course, I don't make vampires these days.
I drive south, I'm in SoCal before I stop; it's wicked late. There's a pretty big bar of to the side of the road, and I make a smooth entrance. The greasy guys look me over and exchange looks with their buddies. I don't get carded when I go for a drink, not after a hard glance anyway. There's a lot more men than women, so I decide to go for a male tonite, the women in here are hard to detect from the guys anyway. I'm searching for a specific type, someone passing through, and then I spot him, sitting alone in a corner. He's big, but not fat, semi muscular. He's unshaven, his warm jacket isn't dirty, but there's oil stains that did not come out from the last time it was cleaned. He has a sweet face, sitting behind his frosted beer he looks lonely. Most likely a long distance truck driver. I know the type well; I drink from them a lot.
I sit directly in front of him and he looks up surprised. I smile; the expression can disarm and alarm, but he genuinely looks happy. We talk a little after he orders me a beer. I don't ask if he's married -- and he doesn't bring it up. After a while we leave and he takes me to a motel but I would have been satisfied with the back of his truck, when I tell him this he just shakes his head and pats my leg. I decide then that he's a gentleman and I won't kill him.
While he's undressing me I bite into his neck. He sighs in pleasure and leans his head back, but he's not too sure in what I am doing. He stays in that position the whole time I drink from him. Hypnotized by the feeling. It feels like being caressed from the inside out -- with the tip of my nails. Which it feels to me like it always does, sweet and natural, as natural as sex. But I don't have sex with him. Instead I bite the tip of my tongue and let a drop of my blood fall into the wound, and the mark disappears instantly, leaves no scar and I lay him down to rest. I drank a couple pints and he's gonna be out for a while, may even wake up with a headache. "Forget." I whisper to him. He won't remember me, most don't.
The next morning I'm in Mr. Castro's history class. My black dress in very fashionable, tight, the hem is about four inches above my knees. I have killer legs, I don't mind showing off a bit. My dark wavy hair hangs down past my shoulders, and I don't wear makeup or jewelry. Elizabeth Summers sits to my right, and I study her with interest.
Her face has depth, depth her father's couldn't even imagine. She looks almost like any other teenage California girl, long blonde hair, and a slim frame. But her inner character pushes through, and I can feel something there, something I've never really felt from a mortal, but I can't really place it. Her inner character makes a mockery of her beauty though. She's already much more than a girl. It shows in her emerald eyes, soft but quick, in her silent pauses when she takes in what her classmates say. She reflects on it, and either accepts it or rejects its, not caring what others think, Elizabeth Summers is her own person, and I like that about her.
There's a boy that sits to her right that she talks to, his names Alexander, Xander she calls him. And he's clearly her boyfriend. He's a scrawny thing, but his whole face lights up when he looks at her. He's assertive, but not pushy, just full of life. His hands are always busy touching her. I find myself liking him too and wonder if he's going to turn out to be an obstacle, but I really hope not. I hate killing young people.
Xander's clothes are simple, a t-shirt and a pair of faded jeans, I suspect that his family doesn't have much money. But Elizabeth is dressed...well...damn. It makes me think of the million I offered to her father.
She doesn't appear upset. Her father often disappears for days at a time. I clear my throat and she looks over at me. "Hey," she says. "Are you new?" "Hi, yea just checked in this morning." I offer her a hand "Lara Adams." "Buffy Summers." She sakes my hand and I have to try not to laugh at the nickname that someone has unfortunately given this beautiful girl. "Buffy?" I ask innocently. She sighs and gives me a light smile, which I find invariably attractive. "It's a nickname, well it rapidly became my name, Elizabeth, is my full name." I just smile at her and while we're shaking hands I feel her warm touch, she's very healthy. I can smell blood through skin and tell if they have any serious sickness-- even years before the disease rears its head. Elizab...Buffy, continues to stare at me, and I bat by eyelashes at her. Behind her Xander has stopped talking to a classmate and looks over. "So where are you from?" she asks. "Los Angeles." "Really, you kinda have an accent." Her comment startles me for a second, I'm a master at accents. "Yeah? What accent?" I ask genuinely interested. "I don't really know. English, French maybe? -- it sounds like both." I lived in England and France for extended periods. "I travel around a lot, could be hearing that." "Has to be." She turns around and gestures to her side. "Lara, this is my boyfriend Xander Harris. Xand this is Lara Adams." He nods and looks me over. "Hey, Lara." He's not defensive at all. I mean why should he be, his girlfriend is straight as a board right? Right. For the moment anyway, but there's something there. He trusts in Buffy's love, and in his own. That's going to change. I start thinking of Hank's computer, which is left in his office. I know the police will be snooping soon and will probably take the computer away, I didn't take it cause then I would have a hell of a time trying to convince Buffy on why I had it, let alone trying to get her to open the data files.
"Hey Xander," I say. "Good to meet you." "Same here," he says. "Nice dress." He practically drools and it earns him a nudge from his blonde girlfriend. I roll my eyes slightly which Buffy sees and it makes her laugh, and I love the sound instantly. "Thanks." I think it would have been more beneficial to me if I met Buffy without the boy toy hanging around. It would have been easier to start a relationship with her that way, without him oogling the two of us at the same time. But I'm still pretty confident in my ability to lure Buffy's interests...What person can resist what I offer? I take my eyes from Xander and focus back on his girlfriend. "What are we learning in this class?" I ask. "I'm pretty sure it's European history, it's an overview. We're on the French Revolution now. Do you know anything about it?" "I knew Marie Antoinette personally, we were buds." I lie. I knew of Antoinette, I never really hung around the French nobleman, they were wicked boring. I was there when she was beheaded, now that was a good time. I sighed when the blade sliced her across the neck. The guillotine truly was one of the only execution devices that disturbed me. I've been hanged on a few occasions, crucified around four, but whatever, I got over it. Losing your head however, that's the end of it. I was there for the beginning of the French Revolution, I was in America by the end.
"Did she really say 'Let them eat cake'?" she asks, playing along with the joke. "I believe that was her aunt who said that." The teacher, Mr. Castro, enters the room. One word for this modern educator comes to mind, pathetic. He only makes an attempt to smile at the more attractive young girls in the room. He's an attractive guy, in that aftershave commercial sort of way. I nod towards his direction. "What's he like?" Buffy shrugs. "Not bad." "But not good?" She looks me up and down. "I think he'll like you." She says with a raised eyebrow and a smirk. I wink back and nod. "Gotcha."
The class starts and Castro introduces me to everyone and asks me to stand and talk about myself. I just stay firmly planted in my seat and say ten words. He looks put out, but he lets it go and starts class.
Over the years I've come to the conclusion that humanity has an illusion about its history. Scholars argue how real their texts are, when something as early as the Second World War is always remembered with absolutely no feeling for the time. Feeling, not events, at least for me; are the essence of history. World War II is remembered as an adventure against impossible odds, when in reality it was an unending parade of suffering. Mortals forget quickly. I don't. Even me, a bloodthirsty harlot of immense proportions, have never witnessed a glorious war.
Our teacher, Mr. Castro, is the type of man with no feeling for the past. The least he could do is get his facts right. The sun is making me tired, and I'm bored. He catches me peeking out the window. "Miss Adams," interrupting my reverie. "Could you grace us with your thoughts on the French nobility?" "I think they were very noble." I say. He doesn't get this. "You approve of their excesses at the peasants' expense?" I look towards Buffy before answering. I know she doesn't want the typical teenage boy like she has, not inside anyway, and I don't intend on acting like a teenager...ha, or a guy for that matter. She's watching me. "No. I don't approve, and I don't disapprove." I say. "I accept it. People in power always take advantage of those without." "That's one heck of a generalization." Mr. Castro replies. "What school did you go to before moving to Sunnydale?" "Does it matter?" "It sounds to me like you have a problem with authority." He says trying to sound smart. "That depends." "On?" "If the authority is a fool or not." I say this smiling brightly so he knows its him I'm talking about. He wisely passes me over and moves on to another subject.
When the bell rings I'm asked to stay behind. I wanted to use this time to chat up my new blonde friend, but I'm forced to watch as she leaves the room with Xander. Just before she leaves the room she glances back at me and Mr. Castro taps his pencil to get my attention. "Is there a problem?" I ask with false sweetness.
"I hope not," Mr. Castro says. "I am concerned that we get off to a good start though. That we can understand where one another are coming from." I stare at him, not enough to have the effect that it did on that flower I mentioned, but enough so he's squirming in his seat. "I think I know exactly where you are coming from." I say. He looks at me annoyed. "Really? And where is that?" At this moment I catch a whiff of the alcohol on his breath, from the night before, and the night before that, and the night before that...I think you get where I'm going with this right? The circles under his eyes show that his liver is close to seventy, while he's only thirty. His tough stance is totally just an image and his hands are shaking as he sits there waiting for my response.
"You think I have a bad attitude right?" I say. "Truthfully, I'm not what you think. If you knew me like you think you do you would value my understanding in history...and other things." I say trailing off.
"What grade do you want to get in my class?" His question makes me laugh, that's how ridiculous it truly is. I lean over his desk and pinch his cheek, hard enough to make him jump. I was actually thinking about doing the same to his dick, but he's lucky. "I'm sure you're going to give Lara almost any grade she wants, yeah?" He swipes his hand at the side of his face trying to brush my hand away, but of course it's already gone. "You better watch it miss!" Again he makes me giggle. "I'll be watching you, Mr. Castro. Just to make sure you don't die from drinking like a fish...I need a good grade ya know." He tries to protest weakly. "I don't drink." "And I don't give a shit about my grade." I say over my shoulder.
I can't catch Buffy before my next class starts, which I don't have with her. My "guardian" couldn't match my schedule to hers exactly. So I have to sit through fifty minutes of trig, which of course I know almost as much of as history, except I manage not to alienate the teacher in this class.
I don't have next period with her either but we do have biology together fourth. I have P.E. now, and I brought a white t-shirt and blue shorts to wear. The boyfriend, Xander, happens to be in this class, I watch him stroll over and stand beside me as the teacher goes through the attendance.
"Why did Castro ask you to stay behind?" he asks. "He wanted to ask me out." "He's into all the girls...so, what did you think of Buffy?" The boy seems kind of paranoid. Maybe he picked up on something between us. Now he's trying to figure out where exactly I'm coming from. "I think she needs some love." I say He gives me a look, and then not sure what to say, laughs. "I give her more than she can handle." I catch him looking at my body. "You're really beautiful, probably got guys hitting on you all the time." I adjust my shirt. "...Girls too, but I just hit them back. Hard." Xander just smiles back and nods his head nervously.
Hmm. Phys ed archery. Good. The bow and arrow is bringing back memories. But I don't think the memory of Arjuna, Krishna's best friend and the greatest archer ever. is a memory I would want to dwell on at the moment. Arjuna killed more vampires than any mortal. With one bow. In one night. Because Krishna wished it.
Xander follows me out onto the field but keeps his distance. I scared him, which I don't think is a bad thing. I'm wearing very strong black sunglasses. While I'm gathering my bow and arrows a very pale girl, with red hair, almost like blood, speaks to me. "You're new right?" she asks. "Yeah. F-Lara Adams. You are....?" "Willow...Rosenberg." she offers her hand. "Nice to meet you." I grab her hand with mine and on contact I can feel that this girl will be dead in less than a year. She has sick blood. I grasp her hand to long and she looks at me strangely. "You're pretty strong." I smile at her. "For a girl?" She rubs her hand on her side. I think I bruised her. "I guess." she says. "So Red, what's up with the name? It makes you sound like a nerd or a tree." She smiles at the nickname, I have a tendency to give people I like nicknames. She also likes how direct I am, like no one's ever been that way to her before. "I hate it, my mom gave it to me." "You should change it when you get out of high school. To something like...Callie or Zan or Danette. I bet your mom buys your clothes." I'm a revelation to her. She laughs. "She does. But since I am a nerd, shouldn't I look the part? "You think you're a nerd because you thing you're so smart. I'm a lot smarter than you and look how hot I am." I lift up my bow. "Where are we shooting these things?" "I think it would be best if we shot them in the targets." she says sarcastically.
A few minutes later we're at the end of the football field shooting. I'm impressing the redhead when I hit the bull's-eye three in a row. She's even more impressed when she has to use all her strength to yank them out. What she doesn't know is that I could have split the shaft of my first arrow with the second and third if I wanted to show off. Which I kind of am. But I don't care. My mood is frivolous. First happy thoughts about B (which I decided is my nickname for her now) and Xander, and now I've taking a pretty quick liking to Willow. I help her get the arrows out of the targets. "I'm guessing you've shot before." "Yup, trained by a master marksmen." She pulls the arrow out and almost falls. "You could be in the Olympics." I shrug. "Not really my sitch." "Yeah." She says nodding. "I feel that way about math, I'm great at it, but it bores me to tears." "What do you like?" "Writing." "What do you like to write?" "I'm not really sure. I like strange things. I read a lot of horror books. Do you like horror?" "Yea." I want to make a joke about how close it is to my heart, but I get blindsided by a sense of deja vu. And I haven't had that feeling in centuries. The feeling is intense and I grab me head to steady myself while I try and look for the source of it. Red reaches to help and I can feel her sickness again. I don't really know what she has, but I have a good idea. "You okay?" she asks. "Yeah." I wipe away the cool filmy sweat that gathered on my forehead. It's clear, not tinted pink like it usually is when I drink massive amounts of blood. The sun is burning and I lower my head. Red is staring and I get this sense that her body is very close to mine, almost overlapping. I don't like that sensation either. I'm starting to think I'm getting more sensitive to the sun, I haven't been out midday like this in years. "I feel like I met you before." she says slightly puzzled. I look at her and the truth of the matter finally hits me. "Me too." Over centuries, ad I have said, I got the ability to read emotions. At first I thought is was because of y observatory skills, and I still think that may be at least part of it. But I can sense a person's feelings without studying them closely, and it crazes me, that would mean a sense that's not physical. And I can't accept that yet.
Once in a while there are one or two mortals I bump into that have the same sensitivity. And yeah, I killed them, or most of them, because they could sense what I was...or wasn't. Not Human. Something else, they would say to their friends, dangerous. I killed them, I didn't want to, they could understand me.
Red is one of these people. My suspicions are confirmed when I pick up my bow and arrow and get distracted. Castro is standing behind the school gym, talking to a blond. And touching. Apparently making a move on the girl. He's maybe three hundred yards in the distance, but with the bow and arrow I can definitely get a hit. No one would ever believe that it was me who hit him. I could shoot him straight in the chest. I can make it so the Red doesn't see where the arrow goes. Killing Hank Summers arose my desire to kill again. I guess violence does beget violence...at least for a vampire, or just me. Nothing satisfies like the sight of blood, unless it's the taste of it. I slip the arrow into the bow. My eyes narrow. Castro strokes the girl's hair. Out of the corner of my eye I can see Red watching me. Seeing what? Sensing what? Bloodlust? Her next words are a shocker. "Don't." she says.
My arm wavers. I'm amazed and I find myself asking who exactly Willow is. "Don't what?" I ask. "You don't want to shoot anyone." I laugh out loud when in reality her remark gives me the chills. "What makes you think I want to shoot someone?" She smiles and relaxes. The innocent tone helped. I start wondering if Willow is one of those rare mortals who can fool even me. "I just got this feeling like you were going to." she says. "Sorry." "Do I look dangerous?" She shakes her head. "you're different from everyone else though. At least anyone I've met." First B notices I have an accent, and now Red can like what...read my mind? I decide to keep a low profile for the rest of the day.
I don't really thing she read my mind. If I did, like her or not, she'd be dead before the sunset. "You're just dazzled by my beauty." I say. She laughs and nods. "Well it's not very often someone as pretty as you is caught talking to a geek like me." I poker her lightly with the tip of my arrow. "Tell me more about what stories you like." As I put the arrow in the bow I think that Mr. Castro will live to see at least one more day. "Especially you're favorite horror stories."
Red tells me about all the authors and books she has read for the rest of the period. I smile when she says that Dracula is her all time favorite. I purposely miss the bull's eye on a few occasions, but I don't know I fooled her or not. She never takes her eyes off of me.
Next period I'm off to biology. B sits in the back at a lab table. I waste no time in walking straight back to sit next to her. She raises her eyebrow almost like she's about to tell me someone else sits here, then she changes her mind.
"How was archery?" she asks. "You talked to Xander?" I ask. "Yup." There's the boyfriend. between us yet again. I think again of the files in Mr. Summers' computer. Hopefully the police haven't gotten to them yet. If they think Mr. Summers was met with a little foul play, I'll definitely be paid a visit. I need to either get to the files soon, or get rid of them all together. I decide I should speed things up a bit, or run the risk of blowing my whole seduction. I'm getting to those files tonite. I reach over and touch B's shoulder. "Hey, can you do me a favor?" I ask. She looks at my fingertips on her bare shoulder. My touch is warm...just wait till she feels it hot. "Uh, sure." she says. "My parents bailed for a few days, and I need help moving some stuff into my house. They're in the garage." I add, "I could pay you, I mean, you don't have to it's just I haven't really made a whole lot of friends yet." "You don't have to pay me. I'd be happy to help this weekend." "Actually one of the things is my bed. I had to sleep on my floor last night." "Wow, that sucks." Buffy takes a breath and thinks. I leave my hand on her shoulder, and I know that my skin on hers is starting to become part of her thought process. But her skin is having an effect on me too. It's like a tingling sensation. When she looks back at me I now she could feel it by the look in her eyes, and I can't help but wonder what it is about this girl. "I, well I have to work after school." "Till what time?" "Nine-ish. But then I'm supposed to go to see Xander." "He's a cutie." I say. My eyes rest on hers. It's like they're saying , yes, he's a handsome boy, but there's more to life than love. At least those are my intentions. But I can't help feeling as I'm looking at this girl that she could be one of those rare mortals I could love. Even though there's something different about her. This is a big revelation for me, just like the whole day. I haven't loved a man or women in centuries. And I haven't loved anyone as much as my wife...yes wife...Lavanya . But I guess that story can come later. Yet Lavanya comes to mind when I stare at Buffy. And I finally know why she seems so familiar to me. She has Lavanya's eyes.
Buffy blinks. "We've been together for a year." I sigh without even knowing it. After fifty centuries I still miss Lavanya. "A year can go by pretty damn quick." I say quietly.
But not five thousand -- the long years have built up behind me like ghosts, weary and wary. Time has sharpened my caution and all but destroyed playfulness. I start thinking how fun it would be to walk through the park with B...in the dark. I could kiss her, I could bite her-- gently. I sigh again, heavily. This girl doesn't even know she's sitting next to her father's murderer.
"I can help you." She says clearly. My eyes don't intimidate him as much as I thought. I can't figure if it's because of her internal strength, of if my stare is softened by my feelings for her. "But I'll have to check with Xander." I finally pull my hand back. "if you check with Xander he'll say it's fine as long as he can come along." I shrug. "All guys are like clingy like that." "Well can he come? I mean he's stronger than me, he could help get it done faster." "No." My answer confuses her and I need to think of some reason quickly. "My parents don't like guys in the house, I really don't feel like them coming home unexpectedly and getting in trouble." She nods and seems to accept the answer, but she is suspicious I can feel it. "I'll talk to him, maybe I can come later. What time do you go to bed?" "Late." The lecture in biology is about photosynthesis. The sun's energy is changed into chemical energy through the presence of green chlorophyll, and how the green pigment in turn supports the entire food chain. The teacher compares chlorophyll and red blood cells, which interests me, he says they are practically identical. Except in chlorophyll a magnesium atom replaces the iron atom. I look over at Buffy and think in the evolutionary chain. only one atom separates us.
Of course, evolution would never have created a vampire. We, were an accident, a horrible mistake. It suddenly occurs to me that if Buffy does help me with her father's files I'm going to have to kill her. She smiles as I look at her. I can tell she likes me already. But I don't smile back. My thoughts are getting too dark.
The class ends and I give B my address, but not my phone number. I'm not stupid here, if he can't call, he can't cancel on me. It's the address of a new house that was rented for me this morning. Mr. Summers has my other address on his computer files, I don't want Buffy to draw the connections when and if we do get to his office. Buffy promises to come over as soon as she can, She doesn't have sex on her mind, I don't even know if she's aware she's sexually attracted to me yet, but I know she is. She has something else on her mind something I can't fathom. Still, I'll give her sex if she wants it...I'll give her more than she can ask for.
I go to my new house, just a plain suburban thing that's already furnished. As fast as I can. without breaking a sweat, I move most of the furniture into the garage. After that I go to the master bedroom, draw all the shades, and lie down on the hardwood floor and close my eyes. I try to tell myself that it's the sun that drained my strength. While I'm dozing off I know realistically it's the people I've met today that cut deep into me, where my iron blood flows like a black river over the forgotten dusty ages , dripping onto the green earth, onto the present, like the curse of the Lord. I hope I dream of Krishna as I begin to sleep. But I know it's the devil that will be there.
Yaksha, the first vampire. Just like I'm the last.
TBC.... If you all give me more reviews....mwahaha, you made me a junkie...I need my fix.
