Part 16 -1793-1802 France - french revolution

We made love there on the battlefield amongst the fallen, the fight long over. It was frantic and passionate, and I had the feeling that Victoria had probably had the same amount of intimate contact as I had since we last saw one another.

She took me to the small house where she lived. It was on the edge of a cotton picking colony and she told me it was very quiet out there. The building had been abandoned and the people living nearby had said it was haunted. This suited her fine, as it provided a secluded place to live that was a serviceable house.

Needless to say we immediately set about christening every room in the house, as our passion turned into something of a path of destruction through the house, and at one point a was. Was demolished.

I couldn't tell you what it was about her that drew me in, perhaps it was her beauty but more likely it was the fact that I still felt I owed her my very existence. She was quiet and we didn't speak much in between our romps. I managed to learn that she had travelled here and settled almost straight away, finding the natives made a great food source for her. She had taken up with the Spanish because they had been around in her colony for some time. Following them lead to battles, and battles lead to bodies.

Our camp was not far from the house, so I was spending time with her at night, including hunting, and training with the men during the day, now that a fresh squad had been sent to meet me. I wasn't truly sure what we were doing, staying in one place for so long, but it meant I could indulge myself, so I took advantage.

One night Victoria and I were sitting in the drawing room, quite content for the time being, having fed off a burly colonist soldier and spent a few hours making love. There was a gentle knock at the door and we eyed each other suspiciously. Had she finally grown bored of my company and called the Spaniards or French?

"Expecting someone?" I asked, as innocently as possible as I stood.

"Not I dear. How about you?" She made no move to follow.

"I am not. Let us see who calls at this hour."

I opened the door to see a lone man in a dishevelled colonist uniform. He was tall and gangly with long hair pulled back into a pony tail much like most of the men in his army. I was immediately defensive. I was in my long johns, and my red uniform was out of sight, but still I felt uneasy at this visitor. Then there was the matter of his eyes and his scent. This was most definitely one of our kind.

"May I help you?" I asked, keeping my voice neutral.

"Good sir, I would be grateful if you could offer me safe harbour for the day." He sounded a little shaken but not timid.

"Just you?" I asked and he nodded as I surveyed the area. He seemed to be telling the truth so I allowed him entry. As he walked down the corridor he found Victoria, leaning in the doorway to the sitting room in only my dress shirt. If it was not obvious who I was before, then he must surely know by now, but he made no reaction, simply greeting her as cordially as he had done with me. "How do you come to be in our home?" I asked as I followed him into the sitting room and took a chair while carefully watching him. The body of the soldier was still sprawled out on the floor, and I noticed him eyeing it.

"Well sir, I was ambushed and all of my patrol was lost. For some reason the beast who caught us decided I should live as it only bit me and moved on. After three days of fever I awoke to a blood lust, and have spent many weeks wandering and feeding." I glanced at Victoria who was trying to look casual, but was seemingly nervous. "The people in the town here said this house was haunted, and after speaking with them I found people had been going missing and bodies had been turning up drained of blood. It was easy to assume vampires lived here, which is what we are, yes?"

I took a long, slow sip of whiskey from my glass and fixed him with a serious gaze. "Yes, that is what we are." I nodded gravely, never dropping his gaze. "You did the right thing in finding us. There are rules which you need to know."

I spent some time telling him of the Volturi's rules, and pumping him for information. His name was Garrett and he had been an officer in the enemy army, but now he had lost all appetite for the war. It seemed to be long over by now anyway, and I was just waiting to get the call to return home. I could never really decide why he was with us. He showed no interest in Victoria as a mate, and very rarely hunted, never with us. I was beginning to worry that the townsfolk might begin to suspect us, when after a month or so he left us, telling me that he wanted to go and try to find the beast that had made him this monster. I wished him good luck but I also assumed he would fail, as a vampire who didn't want to be found generally remained unfound.

Eventually our outpost was dismantled and we were ordered to travel home. I bade Victoria farewell and best if luck, and once again walked away from her, boarding a ship that would take me back to England.

When I returned home it was to the news that France was in a full scale revolutionary war. The Bastille had been stormed and all hell was breaking loose over there. Since I no longer truly had a home in London, or indeed anywhere, I decided I should go over the channel and see what all the fuss was about. After all, a mercenary can never turn down a free meal. And I had also been discharged from military service upon my return from America along with my fellow soldiers. It seemed we were to be given the chance to start new lives for ourselves, something the others were ecstatic about, me less so.

France was a mess. I mean it was a total bloodbath. Carnage everywhere. I always travelled as a poor man, and for one I was glad of this, as I witnessed many a well to do carriage burned along with its passengers. Paris was a total free for all, and I ran into several vampires who had travelled simply to enjoy the chaos. A great plan, but not so clever when one takes into account that most vampires choose to live an affluent existence and class themselves as nobility. Couple that with the invulnerable feeling that our abilities can create and you have a dangerous situation. I witnessed several dismemberments and burnings, but only one that I actually cared about.

I had been holed up in a small flat in the city, choosing to hunt by night when the violence was at it's peak. One night I stepped out into the mild spring air and inhaled deeply, as I had trained myself to do. It was common for me to pick up the scent of other vampires, as well as the blood of the fallen, but this particular night my senses began to ring like a bell, for somewhere nearby was a creature who gave off the most delicious scent.

Within moments I had followed my nose and was standing before a beautiful lady, dressed as a noblewoman but without the powder and wig. Instead her blonde hair fell about her shoulders in dramatic curls, and her face needed no powder, such was the strength of her beauty.

I introduced myself and she smiled coyly. Her name was Estelle, and she had been a vampire for fully twenty years. Her life had been lived in the south of France, and her death had brought her into the fold of a group of vampires travelling the country and passing as nobles. She invited me to join her in the palace, but I declined.

"My dear, it would be best to return to my flat. The noble folk are in great peril here." She sniggered, but followed me none the less. I could tell that she was intrigued. Her new life of privilege didn't present her with any sense of danger, and she seemed genuinely interested in me, a vampire living like an ordinary mortal. A British vampire at that.

Over the course of a month we hunted together. I talked her into wearing more subtle clothing, and presenting herself a little less obviously. She was helpful, however, as her uncommon beauty and her divine scent brought the men running into alleys after her, only to be cut down but me as I waited in the shadows. And her beauty was uncommon, and I don't mean she was simply stunning. Her features were her fathers, a rough fisherman who she told me was weathered by time and the Mediterranean sea. She had her mothers eyes though, large and probing. She told me they had been green, but now they were generally red. I could never put my finger on why she was so much of a draw visually, but there it was, flirting on the edge of my consciousness.

Then one day she decided to wear her fine gown out on the street. I will never know what possessed her to do this, but she did, going hunting in the early hours. As the sun began to rise she returned to my humble flat with an unseen trail of rebels. They stormed the house and threw us both out into the sunlight. When she began to sparkle they panicked and dealt with her quickly, leaving me be. I guessed that since there was no evidence of any kind of stately clothes or even much money in my apartment they must have decided I was simply taking advantage of this noblewoman. Then, just as they were about to dismember her I saw a short man in uniform walk towards her. He hurled a volley of abuse in french and gave the order to tear her apart. I shed a silent tear there and then, vowing I would get my revenge on this man. However, I would have to wait a long time to get my shot at Napoleon.