Chapter 20: Blood and Lust

D sighed faintly.

"I take it you've made an acquaintance of this lady?" Hess asked with polite curiosity. D didn't reply, and the young man gave a disappointed smile. "Well then. I suppose it's none of my business." He nodded to D and turned towards the door.

"Wait," D said softly, and Hess looked back at him expectantly. "You've captured me, but what happens next? Will you kill me?"

"Goodness, no. Ms. Rowntree made it very clear that you're to be kept alive. I'll take you to her as soon as I can arrange for secure transportation. I'm afraid I haven't the resources to keep you sedated, and I shan't allow you to escape."

"I won't try to escape," D said.

Hess's pale eyes blinked several times. Normally he would laugh at such a statement from his prey, but something in the solemn dhampir's voice made the young man think twice. "Is there any reason I ought to actually believe that?" he asked, sounding vaguely amused.

"If Samantha wanted to see me again so badly, she could've just sent a letter," D muttered.

"Perhaps she didn't know your address," Hess said coolly. "Yes, I'm sure that's the reason the woman posted such an astronomical reward for your capture, soliciting the efforts of every vampire hunter in Europe."

"But that really wasn't necessary," D said. "I don't know why she did it."

Hess shrugged. "Maybe you killed her husband or maybe just her pet cat, but for whatever reason, she wants you delivered like a parcel to her doorstep. I really don't give a piss about her reasons, as long as I get paid."

D gazed at him coldly. "You may not believe me, but now that I know all this, I intend to meet Samantha again as soon as I can. And I'd much prefer to arrive on my own rather than as someone's prisoner. So how about I make you a deal?"

"Of course." Hess grinned cheerfully. "I knew you'd get around to that. You're all so predictable! You young ones get into a corner and think you can bribe your way out of it. You must think we're all fools. If I take whatever money you're going to offer me, and actually let you go, here's exactly what will happen: you won't get another mile down the road before those damned Van Helsing people catch you, and they'll turn you over to the Rowntree woman and claim not only the prize money, but also the damned bragging rights. Yours is a very high-profile hunt, and therefore the 'winner' will be sure to attract all the wealthiest clients from now on. Simply put, making a deal with you would be bad for business in the long run."

D couldn't think of anything to say to that. Did humans really think of vampire hunting as just another business? If that was the case, then perhaps D could offer to finance Hesselius's entire organization. Immediately he discredited the idea. D would work alone-- and if humans hunted vampires merely out of greed, he didn't want anything to do with it.

"Oh dear, I nearly forgot," Hess said. "I know you said you won't try to escape, but in case you change your mind, you should be aware that the metal band around your neck will cut off your head the instant you make an attempt to dismantle or otherwise disarm it. It was designed to handle a full-strength vampire, so it will be twice as easy for it to slice through the neck of a half-breed." The blond man grinned brightly. "Just so you've been warned."

After Hesselius had gone, D pressed his head back against the cold concrete wall and closed his eyes.

"Oww," groaned a raspy voice from D's left hand. "Well. That was extremely unpleasant. I wonder what kind of weapon that was."

"It looks like your wish is coming true," D muttered. "You wanted me to go back to England and apologize to Samantha, and that's exactly what I'm going to do."

"Yeah, but as a prisoner of that obnoxious punk? I'm sorry, D, but that's lame. You can't let people push you around. You gotta show 'em that you do things your way. Lemme have a look at that collar you got on."

Obligingly, D raised his left arm and pressed his palm against the metal band clamped around his neck.

"Damn," mumbled the hand. "The kid wasn't kidding. There's a complex series of blades in here that would take a regular vampire's head off in a flash. But, if you concentrate, it shouldn't be a problem for you."

"What are you talking about? I said I wasn't going to try to escape."

"I never said you were. But I do think you should at least free yourself from this stupid device and scare the pants off that punk. I don't like his attitude."

"So what's your suggestion? Should I let this thing cut my head off and then have you try to set it back on really quickly?"

"Don't be a moron," the demon replied, exasperated. "That wouldn't work. I want you to rip this whole thing apart before it slices all the way through your neck."

"Can I do that?" D asked wearily.

"You know you can. With a quick taste of blood in your mouth, you might be able to pull this collar off before it can even scratch you!"

"This is the second time today that you've tried to feed me blood," D remarked. "Only where's it supposed to come from this time?"

"Are you really that dense? Just bite yourself!"

D was suddenly feeling very tired. "I don't want to," he muttered.

"Think of it as training yourself to use your available resources in a tight spot," the hand encouraged. "I'm sure this won't be the first time you find yourself in a situation where a burst of crazy vampire power will come in handy, and maybe even save your life. Come on, go for it!"

Reluctantly, D raised his right hand and glanced at the wrist, completely conscious of the pulse beating there. He already knew exactly what would happen should he taste a drop of his own blood: he would feel an immediate surge of energy, and a wild feeling of utter confidence and the desire to do evil. He would experience once again the horrible and yet empowering feeling of his darker side grasping at the surface of his conscience. And, in that hyperaware state, he would probably be able to react faster than the mechanism holding him captive, and destroy it before it killed him.

Steeling himself for what he was about to do, D brought his hand to his mouth, and then pressed the flesh of his thumb against the point of a sharp canine fang. But before he applied enough pressure to break the skin--

"Argh!" groaned the demon. "Stop, stop. I swear you have no common sense. Don't you think you'll want both hands to pull this thing apart? Get your hand out of your mouth. Bite your tongue like you did that time with Samantha, or bite your lip or something. And the instant you feel that burst of energy, you better direct every last ounce of it into pulling this metal band off your neck. Are we on the same page now?"

"Yes," D said, anxiety replacing his weariness. He gripped the metal collar lightly with both hands, and before he could doubt himself, he clenched his eyes shut and bit into his lower lip.

He didn't wait to revel in the surge of power. The instant the energy washed through him, D tried to break the metal collar as the metal collar tried to slice through his neck. It all happened too quickly for any human to see. The blades made it halfway through before D managed to tear the contraption out of the wall, simultaneously ripping it into two pieces and crushing those pieces like aluminum cans. He slumped against the wall, bleeding profusely from the deep slash across his throat. He heard the awkward sound of the air from his lungs gurgling out of his neck in bloody bubbles. Without a second thought, D traced the bleeding cut around his neck, sealing it instantly as Aldrich had taught him to do. Then he went to the door that Hesselius had exited moments earlier.

The fact that it was unlocked nearly made D smile.

Two weeks later, in Naples, Amadeus Hesselius was telling everyone the story. But that was because he was drunk, for the third night in a row.

"Right behind me!" Hess was explaining enthusiastically. "I swear by God above, he was right behind me then. And drenched in blood, too!" He downed the last gulp of whatever was in the tall glass in front of him.

The first half a dozen times he told the story, people either laughed or ignored him. But now they were starting to shoot suspicious glances at D. "All right, Hesselius, you've had enough," D said calmly, standing up from his place at the bar.

"On the contrary," Hess said with a ridiculous smile. "I'll never have enough. I'm only human after all!" he began laughing obnoxiously.

D nodded apologetically to the bartender and dragged Hesselius out into the street. "Listen," he said gruffly, pushing the laughing drunk ahead of him. "We've been here for three days. You told me you had a friend here who would take us to England. Where is he?"

In the two weeks since D had been captured, he and Hesselius had come to an understanding that was very nearly a business relationship. Hess recognized that it was both futile and unnecessary to keep D locked up, and D agreed to let the man escort him to England so that he could claim the prize money. D had been captured, after all, and didn't mind relying on Hess's connections for transportation. D also didn't mind listening to the man babble about his vampire hunting experiences. But what he did mind was the fact that they had traveled from eastern Germany to southern Italy… which did not put them any closer to England.

"Heavens above, man, why are you in such a confounded rush?" Hess said, slurring his words a little. "My friend was delayed a few days in Cairo. Should be here soon though, soon! Can't you relax a little? I know just the thing- Elisabetta's got a sister and I know you've got money to spend. So come with me tonight and enjoy yourself. Enjoy Napoli!"

"No," D said quietly. Hess rolled his eyes.

"Why not?" he asked dramatically. "I bet the world's never seen such rampant prostitution as this before! I've certainly never imagined anything like it, not in my wildest dreams! Girls everywhere, every girl and woman in the whole city is available. And you, more than anyone, haven't got anything to lose, so I don't understand why you're so opposed. You act pretty naïve at times, but surely someone went to the trouble of explaining to you that you've nothing to fear from disease, so why won't you let yourself have a bit of fun with the donne e signore?"

"Go do what you like." D said, barely managing to keep the disgust from his voice. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Oh, don't go stomping off in a foul mood! Just come drop a few lire and flirt with the girl a little, it'll make her night. She's an absolute princess, they both are! Elisabetta keeps asking if I've any friends."

D stared off down the street, fully aware of the sad reason that Naples had turned to prostitution in the wake of the war: the people saw no other way to survive. Hesselius seemed determined, like so many of the soldiers that filled the city, to take advantage of the situation by making every effort to contract some hideous disease. D felt a heavy burden of pity for these people, for the entire city. He wondered if someday he would be calloused towards humanity, and be able to remain aloof and impassive in the face of such sadness. Somewhere in his heart, he hoped not.

As D contemplated the regrettable plight of the city, Hesselius gave up on convincing the silent dhampir to visit Elisabetta's sister. He clapped a friendly hand to D's arm. "Very well, I suppose I'll leave you to your lurking or whatever it is you've been doing these past few nights. Just don't you go biting anyone, or I'll have to shoot you again."

It was the same warning Hess gave whenever he let D out of his sight, even though D had made it very clear that he didn't engage in that sort of behavior. As usual, the semi-serious threat earned no reaction from D, and with a drunkenly mischievous smile, Hess turned and walked off with his hands in his pockets. D turned and slowly headed in the opposite direction, with the bad feeling that the demon in his hand had been eavesdropping on his conversation.

Sure enough, he hadn't gone far through the chill, damp streets before the parasite spoke up.

"So," the hand remarked. "Not interested in meeting an Italian princess, are you?"

"I don't want to talk about it," D muttered.

"Well that's too bad," the hand snickered with just a little too much gusto. "I can understand why you may not want to 'enjoy Napoli, since you feel too sorry for these people to think about anything else, but there might be another problem here. I find it very interesting that a guy as sensitive and charming as yourself has managed to live most of two centuries now and only had two romantic encounters, and--"

"Two?" D couldn't help himself from asking.

"The time you kissed Samantha, and the time you kissed her mother."

"I did not kiss her mother," D said, almost angrily. He couldn't believe that he was allowing this conversation to continue, but he felt compelled to set the record straight. "Tasia kissed me, but she was only ten years old at the time, remember?"

"No, I don't remember," the hand said teasingly. "That happened before I met you, you idiot. I only know about it from what you remember about it, and you remember it romantically."

D sighed, his expression dark and troubled in the shadows of the streetlamps.

"Anyway," the demon continued gruffly, "as I was saying: As perfectly healthy as your romantic nature appears to be, it amazes me that you've had only two romantic encounters, and no sexual encounters at all."

"Excuse me," D said. "You seem to have forgotten the reason I ran away from Samantha."

"But I haven't forgotten that when you left England, you spent thirteen years sulking and brooding, practically haunting various churches. And from what I can piece together, the disastrous incident with Samantha was more of a violent encounter than a sexual one," the hand said, its tone almost taunting.

"What makes you so sure there could be a difference, with something like me?" D muttered darkly.

"Aha!" exclaimed the demon. "I got you to admit it! Some 'thing' like you? You're afraid you might be a sexual fiend!" the scratchy voice chuckled, obviously delighted to have made such an awful accusation. D scowled and clenched his hand into a fist, muffling the cackling laughter.

Of course D knew that you didn't need vampire ancestry to be a sexual fiend, but he was guessing it probably wouldn't hurt. Actually there was something distinctly sexual about vampirism altogether. D's mouth twitched in disgust. Vampires were just so… slutty.

"Hey, humans can be pretty slutty too, if you haven't noticed," his hand spoke up, very nearly reading his mind.

"I've noticed," D assured the demon coldly, making it clear that he wanted the conversation to be over.

"Please don't tell me you're going to confuse normal human sexual desires with vampiric ones. If you plan to live your eternal life repressing ALL your instincts, you're going to be miserable."

"I'm already miserable," D muttered.

The hand sighed gruffly. "Alright, son, this is one of those Important Conversations I think we've been putting off a little too long."

"This is one of those conversations we are NOT going to have," D said firmly.

"Hmf," the demon said. "Just tell me this: is it even possible for you to think about sex without getting all bloodthirsty?"

D's mouth remained shut in an expressionless line.

"…okay," his hand conceded. "Maybe I don't want to know the answer to that question after all. But what if you only think about--"

"Look, I'll show you the problem," D said, cutting the demon off. He spotted an attractive, conservatively-dressed young woman waiting for a cab on the street corner, and stalked towards her. She looked up curiously as he approached, a shadow from the shadows. "Hello," D said boldly, deliberately locking eyes with her. The girl's face flushed and her eyes turned glassy. As if in a trance, she gazed dreamily at D's white face.

"Hello," she echoed, her heartbeat quickening-- audibly, to D.

"You've never seen me before and you'll never see me again," D told her frankly in lovely Italian. "I'm a complete stranger who might kidnap and torture you."

"Oh," the girl said excitedly. "Yes!"

D dropped his gaze and the girl's glowing expression instantly darkened in confusion. It was as if she couldn't remember what day of the week it was.

"Forgive me," D muttered without looking up, and walked away. His broad shoulders might have actually slumped a little.

"Hmm…" pondered the demon about half a block later. "Suddenly I've figured it out. You're not the type of guy to take advantage of a girl's involuntary lust for you. That would be about as romantic as tying a shoe. So basically, your only chance for a relationship you'd be comfortable with would be if someday you found a girl who was miraculously immune to your irresistible seductive appeal."

D had reached the end of the street, and found himself gazing out over the dark water of the bay. "You think that will ever happen?" he asked softly.

His hand made a sighing sound as the breeze from the Mediterranean ruffled the hem of D's long coat. From the docks below came the sounds of boats rocking gently at their moorings; the noise of laughter and an out-of-tune piano drifted on the breeze from elsewhere.

"…Nope," the demon concluded at last, sounding defeated. D nodded his head once in grim agreement.

D turned away from the lights of the waterfront. Soon he found a deserted alleyway and disappeared into the night, alone-- as he knew he always would be.