The Nameless: chapters 1-6

I was born with a name, though not many now know it or even use it. At times I am simply called Chronicler, for I am the fifth human to inherit the vampire-written chronicles-journals and accountings of themselves and their times. In this new, modern age, they have sought me out to give me their knowledge. I am the first female Chronicler. I do not know why I was chosen, perhaps because I worked with my father, who had no sons, I was his only child. My father was Chronicler before me, but even with that as a reason I do not know why I was chosen. I know only that I was chosen, and have been hiding this secret for almost three years now. I am constantly hunted, as are they, for there are those who would use this knowledge against the vampires to destroy them or enslave them. And many more would like to destroy me for the knowledge I have gained of their ways and magic.
Like most of my “clients,” I had taken to sleeping during the day and becoming active in the evening. In an ever-growing city, this lifestyle was not so unusual, especially since the Kristos Laws had been passed. The law had brought about the knowledge of vampires and of other non-human races to the humans. After a short time of panic and civil unrest involving ancient prejudices and questions about deaths and the legalities of wills and such, the larger cities had begun accepting refugees from smaller towns and other states whose laws weren’t as clean-cut as here in New Acadia.
My evening began much as many others, with a knock on my door. I stood staring out the enormous windows of my on-loan penthouse suite at the rain that poured down upon the city. Occasional blasts of thunder rumbled by and lightning strikes lit up the night. I sighed and walked to the video-screen security system. There stood a tall, dark haired man, looking right at the camera. Grey eyes seemed to stare right through the screen and into my soul. I shivered then collected my thoughts and pressed the button to allow him into the lobby. For him to be able to make me feel this way with his eyes through the camera just goes to show how powerful of a vampire he was, I thought. But he shouldn’t be that powerful, he was one of the youngest vampires I knew. I was mostly immune to vampire tricks.
This trick, often called “rolling” or “enthralling” a victim is an ability all vampires possess in different amounts. Though not necessary anymore in the larger cities where there are plenty of blood houses-privately owned bloodbanks. And of course there were always blood dolls-whores who sell their blood for money or drugs. Most vampires still enjoyed being able to enthrall a human, even if they no longer needed to drink straight from a human being. It had caused a major influx of vampire wannabe’s and familiars into the larger cities.
Occasionally there are vampires that go rogue and go on a killing spree, but here in New Acadia, each police department has its own team of vampire hunters and slayers. Each police killing must be sanctioned, but there are sometimes groups of vigilante slayers who kill mercilessly. Unfortunately, they do not kill just the vampires, but any and all humans associated with them as well. This is one of the reasons I am guarded so carefully. The Kristos Laws hadn’t done anything for humans under the careful watch of vampires. Wannabes, familiars, and even myself as the Chronicler weren’t safe under those laws.
Before I could reach the door, Manuel, one of several bodyguards, pulled out a gun with specially designed bullets. Silver worked equally well for both humans and vampires, and these bullets were designed to go straight through even a steel door. Manuel carefully aimed it before opening the door slowly. "State your name and business." I smiled. Manuel had yet to fail me in keeping my work and me safe.

"For Heaven's sake Manuel, I know you're paid to do that, but do you have to point that damn thing at me every time?" The man opened the door and strode past Manuel, looking disgusted and headed straight for me. I lifted my eyebrows in surprise.

"Good evening Lorian, surprised to see you again. So soon, anyways." I moved to the desk and sat down, my knees suddenly weak, though I didn't wish him to know that he frightened me. There was something about Lorian that was different from any other vampire I'd ever met. Even from the first few moments of being in the same room with him when he’d been made my bodyguard and assistant by Kylos several months ago, there was something about him that made me strangely uncomfortable and afraid. Part of it was fear and part of it was … something else.

In front of me was the laptop computer I'd been using, translating a few pages of a vampire’s journal, so that they could promptly be given to Kylos for a quick and safe preservation. The vampire who’s journal I was currently translating had spent a lot of time in ancient Ireland and had helped to hurry along the stories of banshees by screaming hideously before snatching a victim. I shuddered just thinking about the poor victims’ families.

The crumbling pages of Jural’s journal lay in front of me, encased in glass, the ink in some places faded so badly that it was nearly impossible to make out the words. This was why Lorian was here so often. He was to help me discern the words that were nearly impossible for my human eyes to read. Lorian moved to stand behind me, reading over my shoulder and checking my translations. “That should be “enshrouded” not “encased,” he said, pointing over my shoulder at the screen and the blinking cursor. I quickly fixed the mis-translation. And thought about vampires in general as I continued working.

Older vampires aren't confined to the night time, as are the fledglings, they can move about- quite easily in fact- in full sun. They are only truly helpless as dawn approaches, much like an exceedingly drunken person. The dawn light steals over them, sapping them of strength and sanity. It is in the hours before dawn that they desire the drinking of blood the most, and why, except for the vampire clubs, and certain parts of the city, there is a strict curfew of 3am. Wouldn't do, after all, to scare away the tourists by having a near-slumbering vampire attack a few of these muddle-headed fools clicking away with their flash cameras at the novelty of a vampire.

I stood to stretch my legs, returning to my favorite spot at the windows and stared out for a few moments before I turned and looked over at Lorian. Tall and pale, not heavily muscled, but with the suggestion of a very toned body and unleashed strength. He was handsome in a way, with his lovely grey eyes and auburn hair. But his eyes held an alarming malice that even a glimpse of was frightening. And he had indeed, frightened me earlier that day. He'd come into the apartment uninvited, as he had now..he shouldn't be able to do that.

One of the vampire laws punishable by death by the hands of their own was entering a human's apartment or home uninvited. The only exclusions to this law were those vampires employed on the police squads, and even they were only called in when they were needed to talk a rogue vampire down.

Lorian stood as well, and walked up to me by the window. "Good evening, Little One. I must speak with you about earlier." He said, looking down at the floor, almost looking embarrassed.

"Speak then, I'm busy." I said, brushing past him and returning to my seat at the computer.

He looked up sharply, upset with my dismissal. "I came to apologize for barging into your room and interrupting your sleep-"

"You walked in on me while I was sleeping and stood over my bed watching me sleep while I WAS NAKED!" I shouted at him, still embarrassed myself.
I couldn’t get the image of him crouched on my headboard, staring down at me. I remembered his long black leather trench coat (and yes, many vampires do tend to follow the clothing trends...this year, everything seems to be gothic-inspired) had almost touched my face. His deep purple shirt had been tight against well-muscled abs and his leather pants so tight you could see every detail and outline of his lower body. There were still imprints from his laced-up combat-style boots on my headboard.

He blushed and gulped, but then looked at me consideringly, staring at me up and down. It creeped me out so badly that I almost shivered, but kept myself from doing so. "I did not mean to frighten, embarrass or upset you, Mistress, but you have a fine looking body and face. And besides, I am your bodyguard." He said, putting an emphasis on the word “body”.

"Bodyguard or not, you should have had the decency to let me know you were there. Most especially being my bodyguard you should have known that I sleep in the nude and would not appreciate someone in my room, when I first awaken and before I’ve decided to get up and dressed!" I said, my distress at his cool attitude rising with each word.

Now he truly blushed, as red as only a recently-fed vampire can. "If I embarrassed you, then I am sorry, Little One. But you did run me out of the apartment before I had a chance to explain why I was there."

"At the time, I didn't feel like listening to your excuses as to why you were in my room, in my home uninvited! I was too busy trying to get dressed and keep Manuel and Josef from shooting you. Now what is it you want?" I asked for the second time.

"I have found a new text of an ancient...not even Kylos knows of it yet. I wanted to bring it to you first." He pulled a tightly bound scroll from inside his jacket and handed it to me.
I was shocked. Kylos was the Master vampire for most of the Easter part of North America. All things vampire, from refugee vamps integrating into the city or diplomatic vampires coming for a visit, to every page of every journal I translate went through Kylos. Besides the fact that he was the Master vampire of the East, he was also my friend and I had known him since I was a very young child. To hold something back from him, even something as exciting as an unknown ancient, felt almost like a betrayal.
Even still, I took the object from Lorian, handling it as carefully as I did every carefully preserved object that came into my hands. I expected an old scroll, crumbling from years of abuse or storage in a library. This was neither old nor crumbling. In fact it was an invitation. I unrolled and read it carefully aloud. "Your presence is requested at the home of Dr. Drake Lorrington, for dinner, to be followed by a personal interview and discussion of ancient texts."
Ten minutes later we were still discussing the invitation. I sighed for about the hundredth time. "So let me get this straight, Lorian. Some stuffed shirt wants me to come and have dinner with him in order to assess my character and decide if I'm worthy enough to see this ancient text written by some underground vampire Mafia Don that everyone knows but no one really truly knows?"

"Yes." He looked bored and buffed his nails on the front of his shirt, blew on them, buffed them again and admired the shine of them in the overhead lights.

"Does he realize that I am the Chronicler? That I've worked all of my life beside my father when he was Chronicler? That the only reason I haven't been Chronicler for more than three years is because I worked with my father for as long as he was still alive?" My voice rose with each word until I was almost shouting.

"Yes, Little One, he knows all of this and more." That had me glancing up sharply, but Lorian had already moved to the opposite wall and was now staring out the windows at the rain as I'd been doing earlier. He was running long fingers along his dove-grey slacks.
He'd changed his clothes...all was different except for the long coat and boots...even his hair was styled differently. He now wore a white ruffled shirt, the top had laces that were worn very loose, you could see much of his neck, chest and shoulders, and his pants were now casual dress slacks. His hair was slicked back into a long braid instead of flowing loosely down his back.
A thought suddenly struck me.
"And I suppose you're the one to take me there?" He looked at me and grinned, his face beautiful, the twin fangs in his mouth making it slightly disturbing. "But of course."

"Of course," I muttered under my breath, "It always is." I rolled my eyes and headed towards my bedroom.

"Where are you going, Lovely one?" he asked.

"To put on some proper clothes to meet this guy. And knock it off with the tender endearments crap... go use em on some blood doll who wants your attention." I said, stomping off.
I entered my room and walked over to the armoire, shoving aside mounds of tee shirts and jeans, which I wore almost every day. Might as well be comfortable while you work, was my philosophy. And there in the back I found one of the few dresses I had, a simple green dress in satin with small phoenix design done in embroidered silver. I laid it out on the bed and took a quick shower.

I put on a light amount of makeup to hide the bags under my eyes-earned from a restless night and too many images retained from my readings. In the past, vampires hadn’t been nearly as civilized to the humans as they were now. I pulled on hose and high heels, added a silver cuff bracelet to one wrist, and a thin bangle of silver went around my neck.

I finally pulled on the dress over all and brushed my hair, the hip-length mass of curls finally having dried. It was my one vanity, a shade of red-gold that one couldn't find in a box somewhere.

I finally checked myself in the full-length mirror, and deciding I looked as good as I was gonna get, I walked into the living room to find Lorian sitting slumped on the couch. "I'm ready," I said. He took a single look at me and his jaw dropped. I grinned and twirled for him. "What do you think?"

"I think this is gonna be one hell of an evening" He said, only half-joking. He walked up to me and took my hand, and brushed his lips against the back of it.

You'd think such a simple, old-fashioned gesture wouldn't mean much in this modern day and age. Just goes to show you that sometimes an old-fashioned gentleman is still the best companion. Even when he is a vampire and scares the ever-loving hell out of you.
Chapter 2

Lorian escorted me down to the ground floor with Josef and Manuel following us; Paulo was to stay and guard the apartment. I was surprised to find a waiting limousine for us, and not the normal black or white, but a dark grey, the color of stormclouds. “Well this just keeps getting more and more interesting,” I said, under my breath. I allowed Lorian to hand me into the limousine, and scooted myself over to the side window. The lights of the city lit up New Acadia, and their glare reflected on the smoked glass windows. I knew Lorian stared at me, but I barely looked at him, it having been a very long time since I’d been outside after dark. I watched the lines in front of the clubs, handsome young men and beautiful long women waiting, longing to get inside and spend time with vampire hosts and hostesses. Many of them dressed in the goth-style clothing that was so very popular now, and many of them pretending to be vampires themselves. So young, most of them only teenagers. Every once in a while, police vehicles drove past, patrolling the streets in case of an unwary tourist or teenaged-vampire wannabe caught off guard by a particularly enthralling vampire. That was another reason that there were vampires among the police ranks. They were able to despell an enthralled vampire victim once the vampire was called off and given a dose of plasma to satiate any thirst he’d began to crave while enthralling his (sometimes not so) hapless victim. The thirst was something that sometimes was triggered by enthralling a victim, be it by voice, mind-games (though technically, it wasn’t legal to enthrall someone using the powerful psychic gifts many vampires acquired), or by using their almost hypnotizing eyes. Even I had been enthralled on occasion by a particularly powerful vampire. That Lorian was so young and still almost able to enthrall me had me worried. We pulled up outside of another high-rise, this one a handsome brick-lined building, though it was most likely plast-brick, a plastic product stamped to look like brick and overlaid on concrete and steel. Lorian helped me out of the limousine and escorted me up the stairs to the building; Josef and Manuel followed us quickly and efficiently and, most importantly silently. Though I knew I was constantly followed by them, it was most helpful that I rarely felt like they were there, they were the utmost of quiet and politeness while still doing their job. The door was opened silently by a doorman uniformed in a deep forest green. He didn’t even crack a smile or a “hello” as we passed by, he simply held the door open and watched us as we passed. Once inside the door, we were scanned for weapons, Josef and Manuel handing over their weapons to be inspected. The were quickly checked and handed back to the men, which made them happy, as most people weren’t happy to have someone else’s private guards (and perhaps assassins) armed in their own home. I know I certainly wouldn’t have allowed it. Lorian hadn’t spoken the entire trip, and he seemed more and more antsy as we began our ascent in the elevator. “Something wrong, Lorian?” I asked, worried a little by his fretful actions. “I am perhaps thinking this wasn’t such a good idea, Lovely One.” “Hmm…and why’s that?” He looked me up and down and then murmured something under his breath that sounded like “Cause the man’s old, not dead.” But to me he simply said, “Never mind.” The elevator stopped and dinged, but the door didn’t open. Lorian pulled a key from a chair around his neck and inserted it into a lock on the elevator door. The door made a humming sound for a moment, reading the encoded microchip in the key before opening with a pleasant “Thank you.” We stepped out of an elevator into a massive library and sitting room. The floor to ceiling bookshelves were packed with texts, both old and new. I stared in awe at the massive amounts of books, some not even sorted, simply sitting in stacks dozens deep waiting to be shelved. Here and there were pieces of antique furniture draped in dustcloth. There were also several pieces of statuary, a couple of busts of roman goddesses and even the occasional plant or two. Laying against one wall were several framed canvasses, evidently ready to be looked through, decided upon and hung. It was, essentially, my dream library. Lorian pulled me along, noticing the longing and desire to stay in the room to look around at everything. “Maybe later, Chronicler” I was slightly taken aback at his calling me “Chronicler” for he had never done so before, not even at our first meeting. He led me through to another room, this one furnished in stark black and white, with subtle shades of pale grey accentuating it in the photos and paintings on the wall. The only color in the room came from a collection of Japanese swords hung on the wall above the fireplace. In front of the pale marble fireplace stood an old man. He turned to look at me, as though bored, but I could see his eyes shining with anticipation and curiosity. His eyes widened when he truly got a good look at me. “My, my, I never expected such a lovely young lady.” He walked over to me, took my hand in his and kissed it. I didn’t like it, it lacked the sincerity that Lorian’s kiss had. I knew this man wanted something, and not just me. He was seeking something and I apparently was the one with the knowledge to find it. It made me nervous and uneasy, but I kept a smile on my face, but I withdrew my hand as quickly as politely possible. I even refrained from wiping it on my dress. I saw Dr. Lorrington’s eyes narrow for a second, then resume their normal size. “How can I help you, Dr. Lorrington?” I asked, hoping to get this meeting over with as quickly as possible. “Drake, if you please, my dear. And come, dinner first, then we’ll talk.” He took my arm in his, leading towards what I assumed would be the dining room. Lorian followed behind. I glanced back and saw a small smile hovering around his mouth. I took my free hand and grabbed his arm, bring him along as though I was being escorted by both of them. He seemed surprised, but dammit, if I was going into the lion’s den, I was at least going to have a familiar lion. The dinner spread out in front of us was as lavish as anyone could have imagined, with delicacies that would tempt the most sophisticated palate, as well as simpler foods. The sight of the food suddenly made me nauseous. I was seated next to Dr. Lorrington and across from Lorian. “So tell me, my dear, how long have you been the Vampire Chronicler?” Lorrington asked, spearing an enormous steak from a platter in front of him. He began sawing it into bite sized pieces with a steak knife. The meat was rare, blood oozing from it, making me even more nauseated. I looked at Lorian. The sight of the blood had put a predatory gleam in his eye. Blood, dead or alive, tempted all vampires, though they could only receive true nourishment from living blood. I swallowed past my nausea and answered his question with another. “Why do you ask questions to which you already know the answers?” Lorian chuckled and Lorrington threw a scowl his way. “Simply making polite conversation, my dear.” “Well then, for the sake of polite conversation.” I nearly choked. “I have been the Chronicler for three years. I inherited the position from my father, as he did from his father and so on and so forth for several generations, as I’m well aware you already know.” He looked miffed. Pity, now I probably wouldn’t be able to get a good look at the library before we got kicked out. He hemmed and hawed for a few moments, before simply smiling. “Yes. It is true, I do know many things about you. And I had been warned of your sharp tongue.” He glared at Lorian. I laughed. I think it caught him by surprise, his eyes widened and he just looked surprised. “Yes, I’m sure you have been warned about me. I do have a tendency to speak my mind. Just goes to show that I actually have a mind to use. I wouldn’t be Chronicler if I didn’t. Now what is it you want to know, Lorrington?” I asked. He refrained from asking me to call him Drake again. “Well, Miss Maison,” he began, “I’ve a request for you to verify a vampire’s claim of being the oldest vampire still living among us today. He claims to be the first vampire, actually.” My eyebrows rose at his use of my last name, not at his request…many vampires had come to me in the past claiming to be the oldest, bringing their texts with them. It still surprised me that one of the things many vampires did, if they hadn’t known before how to read or write, was learn from a scribe or teacher how to read and write. Though they usually killed the scribe or teacher after using them for their knowledge. “And does this vampire, this…” “Cauchemar” “Cauchemar…clever, french for ‘Nightmare’. Well then, does Mr. Nightmare have any proof of his claim?” “He has brought an ancient text, actually many ancient texts along with him that may prove his claim. And then of course, there is his appearance.” At this I lifted my eyebrow at him, asking him to continue. “His appearance is rather unusual. And unlike most vampires, he seems to have adapted easily to the changing times, the changing millenniums if he is as old as he says he is.” “Well, of course I’m willing to review these journals of his, but you have a laboratory yourself in order to verify their age. You even have professionals who can check his handwriting to see if it matches the script in the scrolls.” Yes, I’d had him checked out as well, perhaps we’d used a few of the same investigators. “Drake Charlemagne Lorrington, Doctorate in Archeological Studies from Acadia Central university, and a Doctorate in Cellular and Molecular Physiology as well. Very impressive, Lorrington. I know that you are rich beyond compare in New Acadia, other than the vampires. I know that you have several facilities both in and around New Acadia, mostly dealing with archaeology and one or two dealing with blood banks and blood and cellular research. What is it you hope to find, Doc?” I asked. Now he seemed amused, he leaned back in his chair and chuckled. “Well, you did have me looked up, didn’t you, my dear? Very well, I’ll tell you. Immortality.” “Ha! If you were just looking for immortality, Lorian here could bite you, drain you and turn you in 15 minutes.” “Very true my dear. But it isn’t a lie, I am searching for Immortality. But immortality without the constant thirst for human blood, or any blood at all for that matter. And of course, freedom, for all Immortals, not just the older among them to walk about during the day.” This last part made me nervous. Perhaps the good doctor was thinking of having himself turned after all. There were a few rather unscrupulous older vampires who, for an extravagant fee, turn people without registering them with their local council, rendering these newly turned vampires into the category of Rogue, those who are to be left alone and unharmed by members of the council. The truly uneasy part of this is that the older the vampire who turns you, the more quickly a newly turned vampire will inherit their powers. Finally, Lorrington asked us to join him in his study, a room off the living room that I hadn’t seen before. It was as depressing as the living room, done in browns this time. In the hideously decorated room, Lorrington gestured for us to be seated. “I am going to give you the journals that Cauchemar gave me. He began them in the late 1500’s, telling of his creation. He knows that I am giving them to you, he has asked me to do so.” “What happened to these ancient documents you claimed he had?” Without answering me, he stood, walked into the library and returned after a few moments with a stack of old leather-bound journals as well as several plexi-glass encased sheets of parchment. “This is it?” I asked. “Don’t be absurd. This is only what I have had a chance to look through myself, and as for those ancient documents, over time they were damaged, therefore, I am having them restored at my lab. The rest will be delivered to you at your apartment later this evening from Cauchemar himself.” “Very well.” I replied and stood, ready to leave. “Would you like a drink before you go?” He offered, but I knew that the offer was only a formality. Lorrington was as ready for us to go as we were to leave. “No thank you, Dr. Lorrington. If I’m to study these documents this evening, I’ll need a clear head.” Dr. Lorrington offered me a large satchel in which to carry the journals in. He then shook my hand and showed Lorian and I to the penthouse elevator. His guards escorted us out, and Josef and Manuel met us in the elevator. Lorian and I climbed inside the limousine and I immediately leaned back against the plush seats and sighed loudly.

CHAPTER 3

“Well, I think that went well.” Said Lorian. “Yes, I suppose so. At least no one died, that’s always a plus.” I said, tiredly. “Indeed.” He agreed. I began to rub the back of my neck, the tension of the meeting knotting my muscles. “Allow me.” Said Lorian, turning me slightly and moving my hair out of the way, massaging my neck and shoulders. Though his presence still made me a little uneasy, the massage was slowly allowing me to relax. “Mmmmm.” I moaned a little, leaning back into his hands. “Lord, woman. What are you trying to do to me?” I heard him say, breathless. When I realized what I had done, acting as if Lorian were a lover giving the massage. I instantly blushed and jerked away. I shook my hair back into place. “Do not put our hands on me again!” I said, upset at my own reaction. We both remained silent the rest of the trip back to my apartment. When we finally arrived, Lorain had Josef and Paulo carefully examine the apartment. “I’m not so sure I trust Lorrington anymore, and I’ve known him for a few years now. And I can’t ever recall him doing anything so incredibly stupid before.” Lorian explained. “Yes, it is rather strange.” I said. “I’m going to go shower that horrible experience away. If you wish to go feed while I’m busy, please feel free to do so.” I said, then left without waiting for a reply. I quickly shed my dress and climbed into the shower, allowing the hot water to sluice over my body. I sighed and let the water flow over me and let my awful evening wash away. I stayed in the shower until my skin was red. I turned off the water and stepped out of the water, sill dripping. “Where is that damn towel, I said to myself. I reached blindly for a towel, having accidentally gotten shampoo in my eyes. I finally felt a towel and quickly wiped my eyes and saw Lorian standing there grinning. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I screeched, quickly wrapping the towel around me. “You have a very fine body, my dear.” He was perched lightly on the sink countertop. I slapped him and walked into my bedroom, mad as hell. “Damn vampires.” I muttered to myself. I started to dress, wrapping myself in the towel while I searched for comfortable sleepwear. “Was that really necessary?” Lorian asked from the doorway. “Well if you’d quit sneaking up on me every time I’m minus a few clothes, then it wouldn’t be necessary. But you can’t seem to stop yourself.” I slammed into the walk-in closet and pulled a soft pair of pajamas on. I fluffed my hair out from the shirt collar and walked out of the closet. Lorian wasn’t there. “Thank God.” I said. I quickly braided my hair back and climbed into bed. Sleep overtook me in a matter of minutes. The next day, I walked into my study. Lorian was already there, sitting back in one of my leather chairs, his feet propped up on the desk, as though nothing had happened. He held one of the journals, flipping through it. “I certainly admire his artistic ability.” He said. I raised my eyebrow at him questioningly. “Illuminated manuscript.” He explained. “Unusual,” I said, taking the journal from him. I flipped through it myself. “Lovely images. Strange for a journal, though. Especially considering how expensive parchment was at that time.” I said, mostly to myself. “Ah, but you forget, if what he says is true, he could already have been quite old, and as I’m sure you’ve noticed, he said, looking at the surroundings, “We vampires have a habit of collecting both property and riches." He slid his feet off the desk and they landed heavily on the floor. He sighed. “Everything all right?” I asked him, looking up from my examination of the journal. “Fine.” He said shortly. “Obviously.” I said, just as sarcastically. “What has you so uneasy, Lorian?” I asked. He suddenly looked panicked. “Get down!.” He screamed at me, knocking me to the ground.

CHAPTER 4

Suddenly the world was complete and utter chaos. All of the windows in the apartment shattered in an ultrasonic burst and I screamed. Lorian clapped a hand over my mouth, effectively silencing me. “Are you hurt?” he whispered into my ear. I shook my head no. He took his hand away. I heard Paulo, Josef and Manuel shouting to each other, and shouting my name. “No!” I whispered as I heard gunshots, shouts and then silence. Lorian motioned me over towards the shattered windows. I was almost frozen with fear until I heard a voice in one of the other rooms. “Find her! Find that bitch! We want her alive. She’s the only one who we can get information from.” There was a world of malice in that voice. “Oh my God!” I whispered. Lorian grabbed my shoulders, dragging me to the windows. He picked me up easily. “Hold on!” he whispered roughly. I gripped his shoulder and shut my eyes as he ran and jumped through the wall of now non-existent windows. “The books!” I screamed as gravity flung us downwards to the ground. Lorian landed as lightly as he could, but with me in his arms, it wasn’t quite as soft as he was used to and I toppled out of his arms and onto the pavement. I lay there stunned for a moment. “Ow!” “Sorry.” He said, helping me to my feet. “Smooth, Lorian, real smooth.” I said brushing dust and glass shards from my pajamas. “Let’s go!” he said, grabbing my arm. The pale sun nearly blinded the both of us. We ran down the street, hearing shouts from above. I looked back over my shoulder and at the top line of windows of the building. A man stared out one of the windows, shouting. Shots rang out and little explosions of pavement jumped at us from the ground below us. Lorian screamed once, and stopped running for a second. I pulled him along. “Come on, Lorian! Come on!” I screamed at him. We managed to make it to the car garage of the building across the street. Lorian was panting heavy and I looked over at him. He was looking at the cars and finally decided on a non-descript black Buick. He busted the glass and it was as he had his back turned to me that I saw the blood. “Oh god, you’ve been hit!” I screeched. “Tell me something I didn’t already know, woman!” he roared at me. I stepped back for a moment. Never had Lorian been anything but practically silent. I heard the car’s engine roar to life. Evidently sometime during his long afterlife, he had learned the art of hot-wiring cars. “Get in the car.” He said. “Maybe I should-“ “Now!” he screamed at me. I hurried to do as he asked. He flew out of the lot and we raced down the streets. I stared out the window at the buildings flying by and thought about the past. For all my reading of the ancient atrocities performed by these vampires, I had only once experienced anything remotely dangerous. I had been moved around so often since I was a child, spending short amounts of time with my father, the only fear I had ever experienced was during a move, which could be dangerous in itself. If any of the maniacal anti-vampire leagues managed to encounter and take me, all of the vampires would be in danger, as would their familiars, humans who hoped to one day be turned. Only once had we nearly been caught. I was seventeen. Father had gone ahead and had sent for me. I was to fly from Chicago to Florence, Italy under the assumed name of Meg Wynne. At the airport, a man had been holding a sign with the name on it. He had begun to walk me to the car when a vampire came from the shadows. I stopped and walked towards her, she was Allura, a vampire I had met many times before. “Run Lauren!” She screamed, calling me by the name she knew me as. The man suddenly grabbed my arm and began dragging me towards a dark green panel van. I screamed and began using my fists on his arms. “Get in, you little bitch!” he’d screamed at me, yanking me harder towards the van. “No! Allura!” I screamed, reaching back towards her. The man was practically running now, pulling me along and the next thing I knew Allura stood in front of us, yanked the man to her. He released me and she raked her knife-like claws across his throat, blood flowing as he frantically tried to hold his throat together. Allura had grabbed my hand and we had both run to a car that appeared almost magically. The door flung open as if by itself, the vampire inside moving faster than my human eyes could make out. “Get in the car! Now!” he’d screamed. Allura pushed me into the back seat and had watched in case anyone followed. “Drive!” she’d screamed at him. The vampire had growled at her but put the car into gear and we had raced along the roads, backtracking and taking shortcuts many times to be sure that we weren’t followed. It was well after midnight by the time we arrived at the old villa where my father was expecting us. I remember him, long and lean, hair shaggy and glasses hanging off his nose, hurrying down the stairs; so excited to see me after several months. We embraced and we were hurried inside. “Thank you Allura. And you as well, Lorian.” My father thanked them. Allura nodded and the vampire father had called Lorian finally looked up at me. Steel grey eyes bolted through me. The memory flashed before my eyes and I snapped back to the present. “Oh my God!” I whispered. “What?” he growled at me, looking at me. “I remember you!” I said. “You were there the day they tried to take me. You saved me!” “Yes,” he said simply. “Why didn’t you tell me?” “Tell you what? That I’ve been following you for years, been your guardian and protector since that day? Entrusted by your father to keep you safe, to protect you? So when the opportunity came to be your assistant came along, I took it, it just made access to you easier.” “But why you? Why did my father trust you to keep me safe?” I asked. “Why you and not someone like Allura or Victorio? I’ve known them my entire life!” “Exactly. Your father knew that they were attached to you and would easily give up if you were killed, be unwilling to keep the knowledge of the Chronicler safe and intact. I, however, was not infatuated with you, only the knowledge you would one day carry in that brilliant mind of yours.” He said. “My father put you up to be my guard? Then how is it that I never saw you again until three years ago when I took over the job? So few know where I am or will be. How did you manage to keep track of me without me seeing you again?” “I am a vampire, remember? I am used to being among the shadows.” Suddenly the car swerved to one side. I looked over at Lorian. He had gone extremely pale, paler even than the long-undead. I could see where blood had pooled at the sides of the seat. I looked around. We were miles outside of the city. I saw a sign for a hotel, and made Lorian pull in. When the car finally switched off, I heard Lorian groan. “Gods, that hurts.” I used one of Lorian’s credit cards to rent several rooms. Even if whoever was after us managed to track us, I hoped that if they came, that we would manage to get away while they searched the other rooms. I parked the car on the other side of the building and helped Lorian inside and to the bed. I went into the other rooms and turned on lights and the tv’s turning them up loud. I returned to our actual room and was frightened when I found Lorian on the bed, the blood had slowed to a trickle, but small streams of blood had still managed to work their way to the edges of the bed and dripped slowly to the floor, forming small puddles. “Oh God.” He moaned. Something was very wrong. Vampires healed quickly, he shouldn’t have bled this much. I walked over to him and began unbuttoning his shirt. “If you’re going to take advantage of me, would you at least wait until I’m feeling better and can enjoy it?” he pleaded. “Shut up, Lorian.” I said, pulling his shirt away. “Lorian. Lorian?” “WHAT?” he screamed. “I need you to turn over. I need to see the wound.” He mumbled something I couldn’t make out, but with his cooperation, I was able to turn him onto his stomach.

CHAPTER 5

“Gods!” I breathed. The wound was red and raw. It still had not fully stopped bleeding. I called the front desk and asked for a first aid kit. Within a few moments, the owner came to the room carrying one. “Thanks.” I said, and slammed the door in his face. I tuned the faucet on in the bathroom, soaking towels in cool water. I poured water into the small, compact hotel sized coffee pot and set it to perking the water, getting the water as near to boiling as I could. I took a hairpin that was holding my bangs back and used it to pick the lock on the mini-bar. Lorian wasn’t the only one with a little knowledge of larceny. Lock-picking was a skill I had acquired years ago, defense on the off chance that if I was ever captured and had to pick a lock to escape. When I heard the lock click, I opened the door and found two small bottles of vodka. I winced for a moment, knowing what I would have to do. The bullet had to come out, or he would die…again. But this time it would be permanent. I gathered the soaking towels and placed them in the ice bucket beside the bed. “Lorian. Drink.” I said, tipping one of the small bottles of vodka into his mouth. He choked, some of the fluid flying as he coughed, but he managed to get most of it down. “Burns.” He said. “I know. I’m sorry, but it’s all there is to help with the pain.” “What pain?” he asked. “This,” I said, pouring the other bottle of vodka into the wound. He screamed and managed to half-raise himself off the bed for a a moment before he collapsed back down. His breathing became slow and steady. The pain had caused him to black out. “Thank you god, for small miracles.” A pain-torn vampire on a rampage was not a good thing. From the med-kit I took a pair of tweezers and plunged them into the boiling water from the coffee pot. I counted to fifty, then used them to dig out the bullet. It felt as though it took forever, feeling around inside the wound until I heard a low, barely audible click of metal on metal. I somehow managed to grip the bullet and pulled it out. It was covered in Lorian’s blood, but still held traces of a viscous, pale blue coating. “Anti-coagulant. Those bastards!” I said, slamming the tweezers and bullet into an empty ashtray. Anti-coagulant, rarely harmful in a dose that small in humans, was deadly and could kill a vampire, making them practically like hemophiliacs. “Damn them. Damn them to hell!” I muttered to myself. While Lorian was still passed out, I took a washcloth and used it to wash around the wound, then took the remaining cup of boiled water and trickled it slowly into the wound, cleaning out any impurities and hopefully also any remaining traces of the anti-coagulant. As I stood, I slowly began to shake, ice filling my bones. “Sh-sh-shock.” I told myself. I used the water soaked towels to wash Lorian’s upper body, watching closely for any signs of continued loss of blood. With the amount of blood lost, he would need a transfusion, and soon. Still shaking, I flipped through the New Acadia-area telephone book and located Kylos’ number. As I sipped on of the mini bottles of rum, he picked up the phone and answered. Without his usual effervescent and effusive greeting, I immediately knew something was wrong. “Kylos Antiques, 24-7 for your convenience. How may I help you?” “Kylos Leavira, please.” “Speaking.” “Kylos? It’s Lauren Michaels. I need that favor.” I said. Kylos and I had long ago worked out a code of sorts. “Yes ma’am so good to hear from you again! What can I do for you?” “I need a bottle of a rare grey label Lorian Red. Say, perhaps 1850 delivered at apartment building 3A at Clover’s Corners?” I heard him writing it down. “Yes ma’am, I’ll get on that right away, anything for one of my special customers, Miss Michaels.” “Thanks.” I said and hung up. Translation: Lorian needs blood, meet me at 6:50 p.m. at apartment 2C at the American Adams Apartments. With the way he had answered, I knew something had happened, something big, besides me disappearing so suddenly. We both figured his phone might have been tapped. I did my best to clean up as much blood as possible and stuck the blood-soaked bedding and towels in the tub. I managed to pick the lock on the janitor’s closet and located several gallons of bleach, pouring them over the tubful of bloody bedding. I filled the tub the rest of the way with water. I’d managed to strip the bed with Lorian in in, but couldn’t flip the mattress and remake the bed with him in it. I sucked down another mini bottle of rum and somehow found the strength to half-carry, half-drag him to the car and he came to consciousness long enough to help me lay him in the back seat. Dawn was approaching, and in his weakened state, the sun would be overpowering. I took a blanket from the closet and draped it over him. I was able to flip the mattress and make up the bed. I took one last look around the room before checking and seeing that the room was clear of everything but the basics of presence having spent the night. I tossed a twenty dollar bill on the mattress to cover the cost of the mini bar and anything else I’d taken or destroyed, and tossed the keys on the bed, locking the door behind me. I was only too happy to be leaving.

CHAPTER 6

I drove for several hours, doing as I had been taught, backtracking and circumventing towns known to harbor anti-vamp leagues. I finally stopped for lunch about an hour outside of New Acadia at a roadside diner. I ordered a burger and fries and a couple of soft drinks to go and headed back to the car. As I passed by I saw someone standing beside the car. “Can I help you?” I asked, hurrying my pace. “No Ma’am. I was just admiring this fire looking vehicle you have here. I looked at the man sharply. He had white-blonde hair that flopped into his eyes, which were a very pale blue. “Name’s Nuri. Kylos sent me.” He said suddenly. “We need to go.” He said, taking the styrafoam container and canned drinks from me and scanning the horizon. “How’d you know where I was?” I asked suspiciously. “When Lorian became your assistant, he had a computer tracking chip implanted under his skin. We used it to track you down. I’ll show you to a location where we can begin the transfusion.” I nodded and we climbed into the car. Nuri directed me to an abandoned medical clinic on Hope Street once we arrived back in New Acadia. We managed to walk a semi-conscious Lorian into the building. There we were met by men with a gurney. Everything seemed to be in order. We loaded Lorian onto the gurney and they raced away. I made to follow him, but Nuri grabbed my hand. “Kylos wishes to speak to you.” I nodded and took one last look back to where they had taken Lorian before following Nuri down a circular staircase and into a basement area. The room was a little dark, but I could make out a desk and someone sitting in a tall, leather chair, facing away. “Kylos?” I said. Nuri walked over to the chair. Kylos had not answered me and I was becoming more and more uneasy. “Kylos?” I said again, stepping towards the desk. Nuri turned the chair around. Kylos sat there, his eyes wide open in fear, his throat sliced open. Blood stained the front of his suit in a waterfall. Even from this distance I could plainly see a line of blue gel-like substance on either side of the sliced skin. “Oh my God, NO! Kylos!” I screamed. I looked at Nuri. He grinned evilly. “Too bad. So sad.” I gasped and started walking backwards. “Lorian!” I whispered and turned to run and save him. I rammed into a hard wall of muscle and was slammed into the ground on my back. “Oof!” “Uh-uh-uh!” Sing-songed Nuri. He reached down and pulled me to my feet, then began to drag me across the room by my braid. “Ow! That hurts!” I screeched at him. “That’s kind of the point, sweetheart!” he tugged harder, slapping at my face every few steps. At the door there was a set of steps leading down to a lower basement room. Nuri pushed me at the doorway and I went tumbling down the stairs, smacking my head against the wall at least once, maybe more. The world swam and I nearly passed out. I finally hit the floor at the bottom of the stairs. I lay there for a moment, stunned. I slowly managed to get to my feet. The door slammed shut behind me. “Hope you’re not afraid of the dark, honey!” came Nuri’s voice. There before me lay Lorian, paler than I’d ever seen any vampire. “Lorian!” I cried, crawling towards him. “No! The thirst is too great. I can’t control myself, not with any certainty.” He rasped out. He was so weak I could barely hear him. He tried to move away from me but could. “Don’t. Stop. Lorian, don’t move!” I crawled on my knees to him. His face was more angular from blood loss, and his fangs were more prominent. He looked dazed and I waved my hand in front of his face. He managed to focus for a moment, then snapped at my hand. He grabbed my wrist and brought it to his face, nuzzling it like a cat. I pulled it back. Truth be told, in the semi-darkness of the cell, his eyes held a cat-like glow. He was fading fast. What was left of his humanity would soon be gone, leaving him with only the animalistic vampire nature and only one prey on which to feed. Me.