Erm, I got very nice reviews on this within a few hours of posting, and it made me so happy that I decided to post up the third chapter a lot sooner then I intended to.
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Remus the vampire hunted. Savagely.
He was angry, and he took out his anger on others. He had been given back possession of the body on the condition that he avoid the hotel entirely. Otherwise the puny man inside him would take over. One thing that made him angry was that the weak man was not weak anymore; Remus the vampire was at his command. The other thing was that he had begun to feel emotions.
It had started with a strange feeling he couldn't quite describe when he had been shunted from his position of power. That feeling had turned into full fledged anger, and then a kind of despair. Worst of all, he was developing a sense of humour. He had actually laughed when the fool human Remus was having an erection.
Even angrier than before, he de-capacitated a startled hobo near an abandoned skatepark, sweeping out of the night looking like a deranged preppie.
Another thing he hated was the clothes.
Mildly satisfied now, he barely drunk the blood. He had had his fill anyway. He jumped away and soared towards the castle, igniting what was left of the hobo with a mental flick. A vampire always had to hide the evidence.
And in this case, he had to hide the evidence from Alexander, who could very nearly read his mind like a book. If Alexander found out about how he had been completely cast aside by the human, his life was forfeit.
He hurtled toward the castle as a diffused pink light started to fill the horizon.
x-x-x-x-x-x
The Louvre, one of the finest museums in the world, skittered across the surface of Jessica's concentration. She tried not to look bored as the guide droned on, his English marked by a French accent as annoying as Remy's was charming. She suppressed an urge to look at her watch for the eighth time in the hour they had been at the museum. Her mind only thought of Remy, his touch, his voice. The museum held no interest for her. James was clearly out of his depth here. He looked like someone had puked on him and told him to enjoy it. But he stood there, feigning attention, because Madeline had wanted to see the museum. On the other hand, if it had been Jessica who had cajoled him into coming, he would have walked out a long time ago. Even now, Jessica was unsure of how they would get along. They liked each other, maybe even loved each other, but as Jessica saw the annoyance on James's face in complete contrast to the expression of rapture on Madeline's, she couldn't help but feel their relationship was doomed.
The trip to the museum lasted for what seemed like an eternity. Then, thankfully, it was over just as dusk, like an angel of mercy, filled the sky. Just as Jessica was ready to head back to the hotel, Madeline suggested a stop at some shops. At that moment for Jessica, her beautiful red hair looked wraithlike and her pretty green sweater looked fungus stained. She wondered how unladylike it would be to attack her.
"Well, Jessie?" James asked. He hated shopping himself; preferring comfortable old clothes, but his concern to see Madeline's every whim fulfilled took precedence.
"Ah guess we cahn." Jessica said, a small part of her mind clinically noting that the accent came back only when she was particularly upset. They headed for the shops without further comment, except for Madeline gleefully pointing out the birds flying home.
Goddamn it, that girl got happy at the smallest things.
The shopping trip was progressing uneventfully. Jessica was idly fingering through a selection of gaudy pink dresses, wondering what the French obsession with pink was, when a pair of arms encircled her waist.
"Cherie," whispered a voice she had thought of every waking moment for the past week.
She spun around with a sudden smile, his name on her lips, but all that she said was,
"How'd ya'll come here?"
"Y' left a message with de hotel, t' tell me dat y' were shopping."
But hadn't Madeline just suggested it after the museum? That was odd, she could remember telling the hotel staff to tell Remy where they were. All thought was blocked out then, as Remy kissed her. She could verify the thing later, the thing, the- something..
She couldn't remember what it was, but she didn't really care.
"Alright bub, I'm pretty sure yer tongue's homesick by now," James growled.
He moved away then, and she felt the weight lift off her lips. She kept her eyes closed for a split second longer, savoring the kiss, her mouth still upturned and her lips slightly pouting. Then she opened her eyes and shook her head slightly. They had to be alone tonight. She didn't know what she would do if they weren't. Maybe kill James for making too many smart-mouth comments.
Remy was shaking hands with James, and then he turned to Madeline, kissing her hand in the old style. She smiled, and her dimples appeared. Irrationally, Jessica wished her own dimples would show as much.
Remy had taken the shopping bags from Madeline's arms, and she was showing him the dresses. He was as knowledgeable about dresses as a tailor would be; he assured her that the georgette dress did not suit her complexion, while the silk one should have had slightly longer sleeves, as well as a fuller neckline. Being a fashion model, Madeline easily countered his opinions while the discussion moved off into the realm of current fashion styles and designer wear. James and Jessica simply stood there, feeling a little out of their depth.
Five minutes later, when Remy was assuring Madeline that the new Armani lineup would not focus on the flaring pants that were the current rage, Jessica decided that they had been ignored long enough. Firmly taking Remy's arm, she smiled sweetly at Madeline, who had been flanked by a possessive James. She wasn't being possessive herself, merely cautious.
"Ah think we should go for dinner now," she said, her eyes feigning innocence, her mind cursing the accent. Madeline seemed surprised for a second at the sudden interruption, but recovered enough to smile equally sweetly, flashing those damned dimples.
"Dinner sounds good," she said, taking James's arm. "I guess we can continue our conversation later then, Remy?"
"'Nytime, Mad'line," Remy replied with a bow. "Y'r humble servant awaits."
Jessica tried the breathing exercises she had been taught long ago. The emotion she was feeling was not jealousy, was it? No, not jealousy at all. There wasn't a jealous bone in her body. She should be happy that Remy and Madeline had hit it off famously. She should be- oh damn that slut!
Grimly, she marched out of the room, half dragging a surprised Remy behind her.
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At the dining table, Remus the man sat, feeling guilty about how he had controlled Jessica's conceptions again. He also worried about his compulsive flirting with Madeline. He genuinely loved Jessica, but could not avoid flirting. It amazed and saddened him to see how weak he was.
Remus the vampire on the other hand, worried. Worry being an emotion, he was unaccustomed to it, and that made him angry. Another emotion. If the human hadn't had possession of the body, he might have slammed his fist on, and broken the table in frustration. Frustration! He was worrying about how Remus the man would avoid eating, since anything apart from blood was poisonous for a vampire. One meal would not severely harm a vampire as powerful as him, but any discomfort was better off avoided. He worried that Remus the man, the reckless idiot, might actually eat, even knowing the ill-effects.
He need not have bothered.
"Aren't you eating, Remy?" Jessica asked, her eyes reflecting the concern she felt.
"Cherie, much as it pains him to admit it, Remy is suffering from indigestion."
"How bad is it?" the hairy little James asked, his tone indicating excruciating pain would be preferable. Clearly he had not forgiven Remus for talking to his girlfriend.
"'Tis nothing, merely a little discomfort. Hopefully it'll pass in a day or two." Remus the man was a smooth bastard, he had to concede that. He had gotten the sympathy of the women, and James would be hard pressed to find fault with him. Well, it was time to upset his smoothness a little.
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As food was served, Remus the man smelt the aroma he could not savor. He loved the smell of food, but he knew his vampire self was probably apprehensive of his close proximity to potentially toxic substances.
As Madeline commented on how divine the food was, and James tried to make some educated sounding remarks on it to her, he could only watch as Jessica delicately ate her food. For some reason, he felt he could sit there motionless as long as she ate her food, just watching her, watching the way she gave a délicat twist of her wrist to pick up the tiny piece of meet, lifting it to her mouth, and sensually putting it in her mouth by using her teeth to pull the edge of it off the fork.
"Getting aroused by watching people eat, are we?" A hollow voice said from inside his mind, breaking his concentration. "For a grand finale, you can ask her to excrete in front of you."
It was all he could do to not jerk away from the table.
"Y'-y' can talk t' me?" he thought, his fear ill-concealed.
"Yes, human, I can talk to you. I can also hear you, and I suggest you drop that God-awful French accent."
"But how? How can we talk?"
"I do not rightly know, human, but I can tell you what I think. If I choose to."
"Tell me!"
"Tell you? The one who displaces me from my rightful command of the body? Why?"
"I must know!"
"You seek to destroy me forever. To take this body, and somehow convert it back to human form, is that not it? You fear that she will reject you when she recognizes what you really are, and you believe that by casting me out, you will turn this body, dead for nearly a thousand years, into a human one, is that not right? You are as naïve as you were when Magnus made you into me."
"He never made me into you! He just suppressed me, until I was merely a small part of you. For close to a thousand years, I had no identity. I could not remember what I was, or what my purpose was. Then when I saw her, I remembered."
His control of the body was slipping because he had lost his temper, and his head, which had been staring at the table in front of him, suddenly lifted itself to look at Jessica. With a startled hiss, he resumed full control of the body. Deep inside him, the vampire laughed, a hollow laugh, to match his hollow voice.
"The old true love angle, is it? So she's the root of this whole problem. I thank you for confirming that, old boy. When I dispose of her, you shall be merely a memory."
"You shan't touch her!" It was all he could do to keep a lid on his powers, control the body, and appear to be having a good time. Outwardly, he was discussing something inane with Jessica, the weather or something. On the inside, he was fighting a battle he had a very good chance of losing.
"I hate her, human. Nearly as much as I hate you. And do you know why? Because both of you have somehow taught me how to hate, to become angry, to feel fear. I hate these emotions; they cloud my judgment, make me less a vampire and more – human. When I was locked away for the first time, the first time you saw her, I felt something I had never before. This – this horrible emotion. Anger. And after anger there came a host of others. And do you know which one I hate most?"
The vampire paused in his tirade, making sure Remus the man was paying full attention.
"This very annoying dry humor I have developed. I'm French, not British, Goddamn it!"
In spite of himself, Remus the man laughed. This of course, to use the current vernacular, thoroughly pissed the vampire off.
"You think it's funny, do you?" He hissed, struggling to take control of the body. Frantically, Remus the man tried to control him.
"You think it's funny?" the vampire repeated, his attempts becoming faster, "you are mistaken if you think she's your salvation." Suddenly he stopped trying to take over. Remus the man took a deep breath, but the vampire ranted on.
"If she manages to live, if I do not destroy her, what will you tell her? Will you tell her you've been undead for a thousand years? Will you tell her about all the women you have slept with, and then killed, because you could not face a child of yours? Will you tell her about all the babies you have killed? All the sins you have committed?"
"It was all you!" Remus the man roared in his mind, realizing his facial expression was one of dark fury. He corrected it hastily, thankful that no one had been looking at him in that moment, except for the maitre' de, who hastily backed away into the kitchen.
"So you'll tell her that yes, you have been a vampire for a thousand years, but someone else made you do all the naughty stuff? Please; I may hate her, but I don't insult her intelligence."
"I'll tell her the truth. I'll tell her that you have been in control of this body for nearly a thousand years, and that I am the man who was alive a thousand years ago."
"Let me assume she believes you. Let's just assume she realizes you're just picking up where you left off ten centuries ago. Let's assume she recognizes me for the pure evil that I am. But tell me, do you think you're as innocent as a new born lamb? As pure as the driven snow? Do you not remember how you went a-drinking and a-whoring when you were alive? And even if you don't, surely you remember how you've manipulated her in the past week; making her come to Paris, making her think all sorts of good things about you. Making her love you."
"She loves me of her own will!" Remus the man was almost on his feet. He calmed down with superhuman effort, and stopped the restaurant from glowing a faint pink.
The vampire snickered again.
"We both know the answer to that; human. You've used her because you were lonely. You've used her to make you feel loved, and you have convinced yourself that she loves you of her own accord. You may look down on me as being pure evil, but we are both tainted; you and I. This is no titanic battle between good and evil. The only difference between us is that I accept myself for what I am."
"Liar!" Remus the man snarled, and lost control entirely. The vampire took over the body as easily as one breathes, and Remus the man was shunted off to one side.
"And now," the vampire said aloud, "let the fun begin."
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Jessica looked quizzically at Remy, who after remaining unusually silent through most of the dinner, had suddenly mentioned that it was time for some fun. She glanced down at her plate; she had taken only a bite or two of the dessert, Blackforest pudding.
"Er, Rem? We haven't finished eatin'." She said, though she was looking forward to having fun. The kind of fun it's easier to have in a bedroom that a nightclub.
"Leave it petite. No matter how good de food is, de night is too pretty t' be wasted eatin'."
Okay, now that was unusual. He had been nothing but accommodating earlier, and now he had very nearly given her an order. Still, she was looking forward to hitting the clubs. She took one last bite of the pudding, and stood up. James was getting their coats.
"Now we go t' de fines' clubs Paris has t' offer." He said, holding out his hand to her. She took it, no longer afraid of hurting him. She did not know what power he had, but it effectively prevented him from getting hurt.
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Remus the vampire smiled as he stroked Jessica's arm through her sweater. He enjoyed the touch; the touch of a victim, the way the hand usually slid slowly down his throat after it had been trying to pull his head away from the victim's neck.
He suppressed an erotic thrill, wryly berating himself for being as susceptible to the girl as that fool, his alterego was.
The human was banging on the walls of his mental prison, making all the usual threats a person in a hopeless situation made.
"You touch her, murderer, and I swear I'll-"
"Do what? Strangle this beautiful body, killing yourself as well? You have not the courage. Don't bluff, please. It's demeaning."
"Don't touch her!"
"Afraid I'll rape your little precious before I kill her? I might, but we'll have to wait until after the clubs. You do know about the little surprise she has planned for you, right? The supposed migraine to get the hairball and the other girl off your backs, the pretended drive to the pharmacy, the room in another hotel with the flowers in it, and the call to the hairball that your car broke down and you'll come in the morning? It if wasn't so delightfully complicated, I'd swear you had implanted the thought in her head."
"She was supposed to be with me tonight!" the human said, his voice breaking. The poor human, with his totally human emotions, was going to cry. Aw.
"Well, we can't have everything we wish for, can we? A million victims, the blood of a vampire, a body," He paused, looking at the ridiculous light blue sweater he was wearing, "decent clothes. Well, anyway, if I do anything to her, human, I promise I'll let you watch."
"Non!" he ignored the voice. Stopping, he looked at Jessica.
"Cherie, do y' wan' I change into something more suitable for a club?"
"I think you're fine, Remy." She answered, a bit surprised.
"How about a black jacket? Won't that look good?" he forced himself not to walk off and take the damned jacket. He knew he had to listen to her, to do as she said. For a few more hours, anyway.
"Oh, Remy, you're a nice French boy, not one of the Hell's angels," she chided him. "Come on, now. James and Maddy are almost in the club." She took him by the arm and led him towards the club. He followed, trying not to pout. Hell's angels? He had wanted to look like the classical concept of a vampire; dark and brooding. Not like a damned biker.
Nice French boy?
Indeed.
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James sat at the bar, watching Madeline dance with some French pansy. He had not danced himself; fine tuned rhythmic movements were not his forte; but he had made it abundantly clear with various gestures when Madeline wasn't looking, that any guy who tried for even first base would take his balls home in his pocket.
He downed another beer, spurning the classy French wine, wondering how soon he was going to get laid again. Yesterday had been fun. He had to get Jessica off his back though, somehow. He had heard her yesterday, coming to his door, and it hadn't been nice, knowing she was listening to them. Listening to Madeline, actually. She was a bit too loud, even for James's taste.
He belched loudly, motioning for another can, looking at Remus and Jessica dancing. He was sure that Jessica was in love, but he still wasn't sure about Remus. The man was too much of an enigma to be trusted with the heart of his best friend. He seemed to be at war with himself, and changing constantly, a sickeningly nice guy one second, and someone entirely different the next.
No sir, James did not trust him at all.
He turned his attention back to where Madeline was, noticing that there was a distance of only about three inches between her body and that of her dancing partner's. He wasn't expecting a square dance, but this was ridiculous. Certain rules had to be kept.
Stumbling slightly, he tossed the beer can with the twenty others he had drunk, and walked in approximately a straight line to where two Madeline's were dancing with two French faggots.
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Remus the vampire had his careful appraisal of Jessica's jugular interrupted by a frantic voice in his mind.
"Stop James! He's going to cause a scene."
"On a first name basis, are you? How intimate is your relationship anyway?" he said, while he swung Jessica around so he was facing the direction where James was slowly though purposefully heading towards Madeline and some French guy.
"You want me to stop him so there isn't a big fracas, right?" he asked, his eyes behind their shades gauging the distance between the dancing couple and James. "Why?"
"The evening will go downhill if he makes a scene. Madeline won't speak to him for at least a day or two, and Jessica will have to stay to talk to him."
"You really want to see me get laid, don't you?" Remus the vampire said, noting that James was trying to extend his claws.
"Stop him!"
Remus the vampire didn't say anything, but he concentrated on James. He was doing this only because he wouldn't get Jessica alone if James made a scene, and a vampire did not do public killings.
He had control of James's body for a few moments. Slowly, grudgingly, the claws went back in. James did not notice.
This was a bit harder than altering memories; this was all out mind-control. Most vampires avoided it altogether.
Well, he wasn't most vampires, was he?
His teeth clenched ever so slightly, as he tried to keep in step with Jessica while trying to control James.
Over in the middle of the dancefloor, James haltingly stretched out his arm, tapping the Frenchman, easily a foot taller than him, on the shoulder in order to punch him when he looked at James.
At this point, Remus the vampire took over his mind. For a second, he wondered what on earth he would make James say, as Madeline and the Frenchman both looked at James inquiringly.
"May I have this dance?" he said, his mouth moving only slightly differently. Remus the vampire's own mouth was moving silently, saying the words.
As Madeline flashed her dimples and agreed, he suddenly realized what he had gotten himself into.
This time, it was the human's turn to laugh.
"A vampire a thousand years old makes such a stupid mistake? This should be interesting. Very interesting indeed."
What followed was a nightmare he had not ever imagined. Even being burnt in the sun might have been preferable to this.
He was leading two dances. And being a vampire and not a hip teenager, he didn't know the steps.
His face was locked in a grimace, which was forced to melt into a smile whenever Jessica looked up at him. The perspiration on his forehead, however, he could do very little about; and since a vampire did not have sweat, it would be blood that was seeping through his pores. He also hadn't fed this night. With the uncanny perception a thousand years of experience brings, he saw he had effectively buried himself in a big pile of dung.
On the other side of the dancefloor, James danced as well as he could, which was not very well, even without the alcohol that impaired Remus's instructions.
Madeline did not seem to notice though, and he turned as much of his attention as he could to Jessica, who was looking at him, smiling. She had, of course, seen who he was looking at.
"They make an odd couple, won't y' say, cherie?" he said, hiding his loss for words.
She made a disapproving expression, and he did not have the energy to mindscan her to see if she was joking or not.
"Er, well, dey don' fit together as well as we do, do dey?" he said, hoping his French accent was accurate, while making James just avoid accidentally stepping on a girl's foot.
Jessica smiled at that remark. "Not at all," was the only thing she said.
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An hour later, the vampire could take no more.
"Take your damned woman," he snarled at Remus, man, before surrendering control of the body.
Remus the man flowed joyfully into the body, and realized it was a hair's breadth away from collapsing. He quickly made James suggest that he and Madeline sit down, ignoring the pout on Madeline's face.
Then he told Jessica that James and Madeline had gone off the dancefloor, and that they probably expected Remus and Jessica to join them. He wheedled until Jessica agreed to leave the dancefloor, then thankfully followed her to where James and Madeline sat.
The thirst in him was clouding his thought. He could only think of the bodies around him, with their press of blood. He knew he would not 'get some' tonight. He was as drained as he had ever been. Almost to the point of emptiness. And so, so tired.
"Are you alright, Remy? You look pale." Jessica said. It was kind of obvious he would be pale; he had barely a liter of blood left in him. He would have to drink from two or three bodies tonight; always a risky proposition. Not too much attention was paid to the disappearance of one hobo, but two or three deaths led to a careful watchfulness by the police.
Jessica was about to touch his forehead when he leaned back slightly, took out his handkerchief, and wiped his brow, concealing the thin sheen of blood on it. Jessica, of course, thought he was being considerate in not wanting her to get his sweat on her hand.
Yeah, right.
He let her touch him then, experiencing that now-familiar jolt, and suddenly realizing he didn't have enough strength to stop her from absorbing his memories. He jerked back then, as her face grew several shades paler.
"Cherie, we have to talk." He said, not having a plausible game-plan. The vampire in his mind laughed, this time without too much humor.
"A vampire a thousand years old makes such a stupid mistake? Wasn't that what you said? What about the human? If the vampire shot himself in the foot, then I would say the human took an axe and chopped his legs off. This promises to be very interesting, human. Very interesting indeed. I'm looking forward to it, to tell you the truth."
"Shut up," was the only thing Remus could stammer, as the group left the club, Jessica keeping James between her and Remus.
