Usual Disclaimer Inserted Here—you know the drill by now. Could have triggering effects, read with care. The treatments and lifestyle described here are real by the way. Frightening, isn't it?

Thanks to my reviewers, including those who read the story offline.

CHAPTER 10

'I wish I loved the human race; I wish I loved its silly face; I wish I liked the way it walks; I wish I liked the way it talks; And when I'm introduced to one I wish I thought, 'What jolly fun'. ---Walter Raleigh

In the end, it was a good hour before Cary made an appearance in the back parlor. He came over to Jill and kissed her on the mouth.

"Thank you," he said, simply. She smiled at him in reply and flushed up rather prettily for a vampire.

"Couldn't have you munching those particular guests, hmm?" she teased. "What did you do with the body?"

"Dumped in a gorge over Slide Mountain." Cary sat in a wing chair and stretched out. He looked at Nick, who was trying not to show any emotion about this killing. "Speaking of guests in my home—."

"I said I was sorry," Nick was beginning to get exasperated at this. "I really did not know how little you cared about mortals, especially ones in distress." This said with just a touch of sarcasm.

"Do you think of cows when you take your nourishment?" Cary challenged him, calmly. "Do you think humans think of the animals they eat? You have eggs in my icebox. Isn't that preventing new chickens from coming into this world? Unless you or they, meaning mortals, plan on turning to plants for food, why should you care about them? Why should I?"

Nick was silent for this was an old LaCroixian argument. Cary sighed a bit at his silence but continued.

"There is a food chain in this world. That movie, that cartoon—'The Lion King'? What was that song?" He looked at Jill, harbinger of all pop culture.

"'Circle of Life'", she provided.

"Yeah, that one. We are higher up the food chain than them. Same as they are higher up the chain from animals. Like that picture of a big fish eating from fish smaller than they do. This is how I think about humans. Was my outlook soured by past events? I would guess it was, yes."

Still no response.

"Look Nick, without blood a vampire dies. Our systems just dry up, that's just a fact. It's all part of the change we go through when we're brought across. Our whole body changes, everything. That's why we can fly, have superior strength, yada yada yada. You can't change back. Oh sure, there are some fluke cases of it happening, but it's very rare. Sort of like a human being born with two faces, there are cases of that you know. Forever is forever, once you're in you can't back out. That's why so few vampires live to your age, Nick. They can't stand the idea of eternity."

A shrug from Nick and Cary plugged on. He had to have him understand why mortals in his home were not a good idea. Besides, Cary rather liked the camaraderie that had developed during the last few weeks. A thought hit him suddenly.

"Nick, did you come to this unlife willingly? Or were you raped into it?"

That got a reply, finally.

"No, I was told what to expect and what was going to happen. I was seduced into it, yes, but I went willingly."

A nod from the younger vampire. "From what I've heard of your maker, that sounds about right. Now let me ask you something else. Tell me a good thing about mortality? Why would you want to be human?"

"The sun," answered Nick, without hesitation. "To taste food, all the foods of this age---hotdogs, marshmallows, suvlaki, coffee, donuts. To hear the birds sing, see the butterflies and all the colors of the world. To see the green of the grass and the trees, the reddish clay, brown dirt. To see turquoise seas and blue skies. Heat, glorious heat---warm hands, warm feet. Human love, going out to a movie or to a grocery store without wanting to devour the patrons. The list goes on and on."

Cary sort of snorted at this.

"Well, Nicolas," he said, giving Nick's name its French pronunciation, "several things to your list. First, the sun is rather highly overrated. Even mortals are recognizing this by using sunblock to keep it away. Personally, I have never been a big fan of it, even when I was alive. As for food, I'll give you some of the modern things. I've always wanted to try a cheeseburger myself, but Ty makes bloodwine that have the taste of at least some of those things. Ask for number 28, it tastes like chocolate, or so I've been told. As for the colors, you call pull on a VR machine or watch the movies or the television. The heat is fixed by heating up a fireplace, or pulling a heater to you. They have these electric space heaters that you can adjust to have heat on just you. And if you get too cold, you can always find something to snack on." This said with just a hint of a smile. "As for going out among them, feed well and you don't have to worry about the hunger."

"True, all of it. But how about human love, Cary?"

Jill looked at the dark haired vampire at this question. He looked away for a moment.

"Love. Human love? What is so wonderful about human love, Nick? Let me tell you, our way is much better, I think. We have no fear of any disease, no bodily fluids, and no worry about unexpected consequences. And, if you wish to be crass about it, a mortal orgasm does not even come near the feeling of drinking from your partner. This is why, if I might opine on it, that vampires can only find contentment with other of their nature."

"Exactly!" exclaimed Jill, causing both males to look at her. "I was not exactly chaste when I was mortal," she chided. "But the only real sexuality came when I was brought across. Vampires are sensualists at heart. Our skin, our senses are all heightened. A simple caress from one of us, a simple kiss, is much more erotic than the same from any human. And the blood, well, it's just the cat's meow. Nothing can compare or come close to it."

"True, all of it, true," Nick admitted, reluctantly. "But virtual reality, to get back to the previous topic, does not beat sunlight. Just to chew on food, that is something that cannot be replaced."

"Alright," conceded the darker vampire. "I'll give you chewing."

"Finally!" laughed Nick. Then he got sober. "So, our guests, can they stay? It'll only be till Monday then they are out of here and into a safe place."

"And this place is not safe, I mean, besides the fact that they could lose their lives at any given moment. I really do not think that anyone would be so foolish as to try to harm them here!" This said with a bit of a chuckle. "But fine, okay, they can stay just till Monday, but keep them away from me. I will not take any responsibility for any mishaps that may occur. Oh, and all the nauseating food goes as well. I will not be ill anytime I go to my icebox."

"You know," Nick mused, "I ate french fries once."

"How did they taste?" asked Jill, as they had come after her time.

"Salty and chewy. I loaded them down with catsup. That was sort of tangy tasting."

"I tried to eat a candy bar one time, soon after I came across. I took one nibble and got very ill indeed. It brought the fact that I was a vampire to me better then anything else. No candy and no pop. I did manage to eat a grain or two of sugar from a packet, though."

A laugh all around at that. Then Nick had a sudden thought, since Cary was in such a congenial mood.

"Cary," he began, cautiously, "why do you hate humans so? And human love is nothing to sneer at."

Jill's cornflower eyes widened at this statement. She wondered if her lover would actually answer this. To her surprise, he did.

"Human love? To be honest, Nick, this is one emotion that I have no experience with, at all. The first love I felt from any creature on this earth was from Helena. Maybe you had an idyllic childhood filled with warm memories. I know Jill did---mama, papa, grandma, brother. I didn't have that luxury." Cary was silent a moment, before he went on. This was obviously painful for him. "My grandparents were left back in Ireland when my parents came to this country. Da was escaping a theft charge and my mam had run off from the hardscrabble life of her parent's potato farm. They met on the boat and married here. Of all the children, five died—4 boys and 1 girl. Three brothers survived, besides my sister and me. My one brother, Jarlath, he died of diphtheria when he was about ten. The other two—Aiden and Donagh, joined one of the many gangs that were around back then. Donagh was the follower, Aiden was the bully. He and Da were one and the same.

"Mam, her name was Maeve, worked at making cigars, and we all helped. Well, at least, my sis Sorcha and I helped." Cary snorted. "Da worked very rarely, usually down at the docks. He was also big into dog fighting—kept a terrier that could go for 15 to 20 rats in the pit. Aiden was a bloke buzzer. He used Donagh as the stall, and he was the hook. Aiden was also not above panel thieving. The leatherheads knew them, Aiden was sent to the Tombs several times—."

Jill interrupted this narrative for some questions.

"Um, darling. What are a stall and a hook? A leatherhead? Bloke buzzer? Honey, I was not born then, please elaborate for me, hmm?" She came over to kneel by his chair, smoothing his hair back as she made her request. Nick grinned.

"Sorry. My brothers were pickpockets; stall and hook are terms used by them. Leatherheads are cops. A bloke buzzer was a pickpocket who specialized in stealing from men. A moll buzzer was one who stole from women. The Tombs was the prison."

The red-haired vampire nuzzled his neck as a way of thanking him for that, though it was not really needed. "Continue," she told him.

"Cigar making was only part time work, though. Mam was really good at cutting feathers from cocktails, and Sorcha was also. I was not and Da thought that we needed to work to earn our keep. 'Ye didna work, ye don' eat', that's what he always said. So I went over to the envelope factory at 3 and ½ cents a thousand. We went in just after sunrise and didn't get off till after the sun went down."

"No school?" asked Jill. She had never heard this part of the tale before.

"School?" Cary laughed. "That took money off the table, and that was a sin in my family. Same as church. Mam went, but Da wouldn't let us go, we had to do chores then, or work. Hell, it wasn't until I got to the Home that I realized that Jesus Christ was not a swear word. Of course, we were supposed to go, but it wasn't really enforced back then—we're talking the mid 1880's Five Point district here, don't forget."

"Anyway, Aiden always thought that I was too pretty for any boy. He was always trying to get me to come along with him. Or trying to get me into the streets, where I could make real cash, as he so nicely put it. Mam would not let this happen—and Da wasn't too keen on the idea at all. 'It'd be too much of a hassle wit the leatherheads, me boyo,' he'd tell Aiden. 'Tow tis a good idea, aye, this is at that. But no.'"

"Now, Da was usually drunk, as I said. I was the one to go to the slop house, the saloon, to get the bucket for the beer. Whiskey was too expensive. And then I had to haul that heavy bucket home and woe to me if I spilled a lick. Then off would come the belt and a right thrashing. But the next morning, off to work I'd go. Broken arm, black eye, busted ribs—off to work. And I had to keep up as well. The factory bosses did not like it and I was let go. Boy, did I get a good beating for that! Anyway, I soon found another job in a glass factory. Worked from about 5pm to 3:30am. I made more money, anyway—a whopping 64 cents a day. I was a carrying-in boy and walked miles to and fro carrying those red hot bottles to the oven."

"How old were you?" Jill, brought up in a decent midwestern town, was appalled.

Cary shrugged. "Got the job in the envelope place at 6, I think. The job in the glass place at 8." He looked away. "Anyway, Mam got caught up in the cholera outbreak when I was about 9, in 1884. I came home from work one day and she was dead. That's when Da decided that we were moving from that flat to another one—a rear tenement. The front room was about 12 square feet and the bin in the back for the bedroom was about 6. We had two windows that opened on the court, but our building was smaller than the front building, so there was never any sunlight that shown. Not that I got to see the sun much, working 7 days a week. We paid $6.00 a month for that third floor flat. At least our old apartment was a front building. Da refused to work at this time and my brothers had moved out. Sorcha was working making pants. I remember the day she came home because her hand slipped and she lost a finger in the machines. I had to take her round to the doc, because Da was at the groggery."

"Then when I was about 11, the cops came around with the child welfare people. It seemed they arrested Da for the rape of my sister. When she protested, he got mad and choked her to death. I won't say what he choked her with, I didn't understand how for years it could happen."

At this, Cary got very quiet for a few moments, then let out a long sigh.

"They took me to a founding home run by the parish church. The only good thing was that I did not have to go to work. The bad thing? Ever read that book Oliver Twist? Sort of like that, but worse. At the time, my health was not the best. I was born with weak lungs, and the life I led caused asthma. I had trouble breathing and was always wheezing. This made me a target for the older boys. Plus my face got me into a lick of mess as well. I've always wondered if I were ugly, then maybe I would have been left alone. And the brothers were no better, always coming in at night. I learned to sleep all crunched up, or under the bed. Better to sleep with the bugs than other night terrors. Since I never went to church, I was treated badly for that. First time I used the Lord's name in vain, the nun beat my hand so hard I couldn't move it to make a fist."

"I finally could take no more and told the head of the church what was going on when he came to visit. Guess who got into trouble? Me. When he left, I was taken out and beaten worse that Da or Aiden ever got me. A month later, they kicked me out—I was all of 14, with no skills."

"I had trouble getting work with my lungs the way they were. But I finally did get work in a garment factory. As long as I could stand, they kept me on. More long 10-hour days. Finally, by my 17th birthday, I couldn't work anymore. I couldn't breathe. So I landed on the streets, doing any odd job I could beg. Aiden came along occasionally and tried to get me to do a different kind of street work, but I refused that. I had enough of that in the Home."

"Finally, a female friend of mine took pity on me and took me to the doctor she used. This doc was more familiar various sexual diseases and pregnancies that resulted from my friend's occupation, but he managed a course of treatment. It consisted of Quinine in two-grain doses; three times a day and laudanum in small doses, as well as iodide of potassium. Now, the Quinine was not bad, bitter tasting, but not bad. Like soda water. The potassium was also not too bad, I mean it was basically salt. The trouble was the laudanum, which was basically a mixture of alcohol and opium. All three taken together was not good. In fact, I became so addicted to the laudanum; I couldn't work at all, lost my job again. I slept in flophouses or on the streets."

"It was actually a bowery bummer who took me to another doctor. He thought that at 19 I was too young to be living like a 'feral animal'. Now the MD he took me off the medicines I had been taken. This was a good thing. The bad thing, he was a Rush disciple. Ever hear of Dr. Rush?"

Nick nodded. "He was an influential professor who believed Negro's were black because of leprosy, tobacco caused madness and other strange beliefs. If I recall, and I worked as a doctor during the Civil War, he prescribed bloodletting, blistering, purging, and sweating treatments. Yeah, I remember Benjamin Rush."

"So you know what my treatment was. I was bleed about a pint a day, every day. The blistering was the worst, for they first had to burn you to get the blisters. Then came the course of calomel, which caused you to vomit, to be polite. Oh, don't forget the mustard plasters! Oh, and the laxatives to cause the purge, that was pleasant. In fact, sweating was the least offensive. And none of these things helped one iota, though I didn't know this at the time."

"All I knew was that I was constantly weak, couldn't breathe right. I could barely eat, everything came back up. But that was fine, as I couldn't afford food most of the time anyway. Of course, my brothers made my life a living hell as well. Too high and mighty for them. They and their gang would be after me all the time, just for the hell of picking on someone weaker then themselves."

"By the time I turned 20, I was in a state of depression. Nothing but misery everywhere. I didn't have a girl for I could not breathe long enough to do anything and they all thought I would make them sick anyway. My clothing was stolen or taken from where I could find it—the dump mostly. Sometimes I was lucky and found shoes, most of the times I used cardboard in the winter and just went without in the summer."

"Then Helena found me curled up on a grate in an alley one cold, rainy night. I was supposed to be dinner, you see. But she couldn't kill me. She told me later that my face saved my life, such as it was. She took me in, kept me for over three months, seduced me and finally made the decision to bring me across—I was 21 years old."

"So you see, Nick, humans mean nothing to me. Twenty years of poverty, neglect, abuse of all sorts--and you expect me to like mortals? Why? The vampire community took me in right off. Helena became lover, mother, angel, wife—everything to me. Now, you tell me something. Why should I have compassion for them, when they did nothing to help me? Not the cops, the church, family, nobody. Do you know I never remember anyone actually hugging me with affection as a child? Mam didn't beat us, but she did neglect us. But heck, she worked her fingers to the bone and was beat as bad as us all. Plus, Da's sexual activities bordered on rape at the best of times. She didn't have a chance, for her parents were taskmasters as well."

For a while, the three sat there in silence. Jill had red streaks down her face from her tears; she never guessed how bad it had been.

"But because of the circumstances, the two you have upstairs can stay. Perhaps if they did have such services when I was younger, I would have had a different life. But living well is the best revenge, as they say. Here I am, over a hundred years later—rich, successful, powerful. And my tormentors? Dead. Revenge is sweet, when you have the means."

Nick paled some at that.

"But enough of this maudlin junk. You, Nick, have paperwork to complete before tomorrow. So we might as well get at it." He turned to Jill. "Darling, can you excuse us while we tend to business?"

His answer was a soul-searing kiss, and then she left the room. Nick could hear the TV in the library. Cary stood, shook himself as if flinging off something he rather forget, and walked to the phone.

"Colin needs to be here to witness this. Meanwhile, I'll get the proper forms."