Brenda watched carefully for the Hound as she, Simon and Morgan walked back into the Denver Public Library that served as the city's Elysium. She dreaded returning there. One of those Nosferatu was likely the one who'd raped her. But she didn't want to wait for Simon and Morgan alone.
She resisted the urge to ask Simon to hold her hand again. She didn't feel right about it in front of Morgan. As they rode the elevator down she steeled herself for the sight of those two hideous faces.
When they stepped into the room where the two Nosferatu waited, Brenda stood back, behind Simon.
"What is it you want from me?" Morgan asked in an exasperated tone.
The Prince came to stand over the High Priestess, exuding a palpable menace. "Where is my Childe?" he snarled at her.
Brenda looked at him in surprise. There was another Nosferatu?
"And why would I know where your Childe is?" Morgan asked, a smirk forming on her blood-red lips.
"Where is he!"
Brenda flinched as he raised his voice.
"Is it my concern if you let the fool wander into places he has no right to trespass into?"
"It is your concern if you are responsible for his disappearance," he hissed, looming over her.
"I'm responsible for no such thing. His fate is his own doing. It is his own foolhardiness that is to blame, I'm sure," Morgan said gleefully. "If he trespassed in places he had no right to be and the goddess saw fit to end his time on this earth—"
The prince raised his arm and slapped Morgan across the face with such force that she was knocked back against the elevators.
Brenda gasped and froze up.
Simon reached out to help Morgan to her feet, but she waved him away, licking at the blood on her upper lip. "I curse you," she spat. "You will never have another Childe. And the goddess will see an end to your reign."
Brenda took an involuntary step back from the Prince's glower.
"You are now banished from my city. If you are seen anywhere in Denver after tonight you will be destroyed. Now get out of my sight."
All three hurried into the elevator without argument.
As they made their way to Simon's car, Brenda was having difficulty deciding how she felt about what had just transpired. She had almost felt sorry for the Prince's loss of his child, but for the fact that the mere thought of him made her skin crawl. And then there was the way he'd struck Morgan. Of course, she'd been taunting him about that loss, which she did appear to be responsible for. As they reached the car, Brenda arrived at the conclusion that an enemy of the Prince was a friend of hers.
"I'll need to stay at your apartment for a little while," Morgan said as she climbed into the back seat.
"What?" Simon snapped, clearly irritated.
"It is the will of the goddess."
"No, Morgan," Simon said, turning the ignition. "It's your will."
Brenda felt she was sitting in the middle of a long-running conflict.
"As the High Priestess, I speak for the goddess. My will is her will," Morgan retorted without hesitation.
"Didn't you hear what he said?"
"I don't care what he said. I am not frightened of him. Besides, your Childe needs me," she added, dragging Brenda into the argument with triumph in her voice. "You've been negligent in her teachings."
"Well, maybe it should be up to her, then, since she's staying in my apartment and there really isn't a lot of room. Brenda?"
Brenda looked back at Morgan, and then over to Simon. It was obvious that Simon didn't want Morgan to stay with them, but Brenda couldn't believe he'd just dropped the argument onto her. She considered for a moment. On one hand, she found herself interested in what Morgan might have to teach her about the goddess. The more feminine energy had the promise of comfort for her. On the other hand, having Morgan in Simon's apartment put Simon and herself in more danger. Brenda was afraid. "I don't think I have the right to make that decision," she said apologetically, hoping Morgan wasn't offended.
"You see, Simon? She's right. Your Childe knows it isn't her place to stand in the way of the goddess's will." Morgan was clearly a woman accustomed to getting her way.
Simon sighed. "All right."
-
"Well, I'll have to bunk with you," Morgan told Brenda after they'd returned to Simon's apartment.
Brenda had expected that would be the case, since it was fairly obvious that Morgan wasn't Simon's lover.
Once Simon had shut himself into his room, Morgan stripped out of her clothes and began pulling out the bed.
Brenda hadn't slept next to a female since she'd been a kid. She'd never slept next to a naked woman. She undressed quickly, keeping her back turned to Morgan, and hurriedly wrapped Simon's robe around herself.
"Your body is a gift from the goddess. You should not be ashamed of it." Morgan's criticism somehow managed to be gentle in tone.
Brenda decided to just be as honest as she could. She wanted a woman to confide in. "My body's been through a lot of abuse. I'm not ashamed of it, but I feel the need to protect it."
"Were you raped?" Morgan asked softly, all trace of her characteristic arrogance gone.
"Yes." Brenda clasped her hands together in front of herself and turned to face Morgan, to look into the woman's hazel eyes. "A few days before I was embraced. I never saw his face, but he left me to die afterward, and Simon found me. We think it must have been one of the Nosferatu."
"That doesn't leave many options, does it," Morgan said sourly. "And any one of them is capable of such an act. I think I see now why I needed to be here. Would you like me to do a ritual of healing for you?"
"Could you?" If it would help her stop feeling afraid, Brenda would be relieved.
"I will need you to take off your robe in order to do this."
Brenda nodded. "I understand." She could set her modesty aside for the purpose of healing. She felt fairly safe with Morgan. She untied the robe and slid it off of herself, laying it neatly over a pile of Simon's books.
"Go on and lie down on the bed."
Brenda did as she was told.
Morgan began rummaging through Simon's things, lighting candles and some incense. "I want you to tell me if you begin to feel violated at any point during the ritual. It isn't meant to be invasive, but this will not work if you feel violated."
"All right." Brenda felt nervous as Morgan came to stand over her, but she remained calm, reminding herself that she was safe there. She didn't expect this ritual to heal her over night, but if it was a step in the healing process, she welcomed it.
Morgan raised a finger to her mouth and inserted it between her lips. When she drew it away, a glistening bead of blood stood on the tip. She brought it down to Brenda's body and began to draw. She uttered soft prayers to the goddess, beseeching her to comfort her new daughter.
Brenda felt strangely comforted as Morgan said her prayers and drew glyphs on Brenda's skin with her cold vampiric blood. Brenda wasn't used to being taken care of. It felt like she was being mothered and she hadn't realized how much she'd needed it. As Morgan invoked the goddess, Brenda felt an inexplicable longing. Perhaps Simon had been right. Religion had never appealed to her because she'd only known Christianity, a highly patriarchal religion that had little respect for women. The goddess called to her like a neglected but dear friend.
"It's finished," Morgan told her, stepping back.
"That's it?"
"That was it."
Brenda's body was covered in bloody glyphs. "That wasn't so bad. May I put the robe back on?"
Morgan smiled indulgingly. "Of course, child."
Brenda got up and got back into the robe, regretting only a little that it was going to be stained with blood. She and Morgan both crawled beneath the covers of the bed. "Now you see why I was asking if you could put a curse on someone without knowing who they are."
Morgan nodded. "I'm sorry. But you do have the potential to become quite powerful with the goddess's help. You will get to have your vengeance."
"It isn't vengeance I want," Brenda argued. "The one who did this needs to be stopped, yes, so that no one else has to suffer at his hands."
"There are many reasons for vengeance. There is no shame in admitting it is precisely that."
Brenda could feel the overwhelming drowsiness taking hold of her as the sun must have been making its appearance over the horizon. Sleep claimed her as she admitted to herself that vengeance wasn't entirely unappealing.
