"The Scent of LivingThings"

I woke to the sound of a coyote howling somewhere in the distance. The soil still held the heat of the day as I struggled to free myself from its embrace. When I finally stood above ground the last rays of the sun were disappearing over the horizon. The sky was deep purple shot through with streaks of red. It was a beautiful night here in the south.
         Deirdre was waiting at the entrance of the graveyard. She was always waiting when I rose to the night. She was so small and fragile but her physical appearance is deceptive as she is stronger than most men. I love her, this is the simple truth my life is based on and the one which has brought me to this place. I walked over and took her in my arms and kissed her lightly on the lips, her scent of living things teasing my hunger. I would need to feed soon.
         But first we would walk home and Deirdre would tell me about her day.

         I first met Deirdre on my sixteenth birthday when my father brought me down to the old slave quarters. They had been abandoned long before I was born. No one was allowed there any more and I was about to discover why.
         She was tiny, a small girl child curled up on the floor of a stall. She was wearing rags covered in filth, but her emerald green eyes caught mine and they were bright and full of life.
My father’s harsh tones brought me back to reality, “This, my son, is the source of our wealth.” He pointed to the girl, “Deirdre is a leprechaun and we own her and her pot of gold.”
I looked at my father in complete surprise. I couldn’t believe what he was saying. My father was a most pragmatic man and not given to fancy. “What do you mean? There’s no such thing as leprechauns you’ve always told me that. It’s just a story from the old country”
“Well, son I’m afraid I lied. We have to protect our family’s prosperity.”          
“This doesn’t make sense. How can she be a leprechaun? She’s too tall and isn’t dressed in green. And she’s a girl, I thought all leprechauns were male.” I said trying to make light of a bizarre situation.
“Son, that’s the fairy tale. She’s the reality. And I can prove it.”
“How?” I was so engrossed in what my father was saying that I took my eyes off the girl. My father was pulling on a long iron chain that was attached to her leg. She was slowly dragged across the floor but it was the expression on my father’s face that I remember most. It was twisted with a malevolent cruelty. The leg irons were causing Deirdre terrible pain and my father was enjoying it.
“Why is she tied up?” I asked. I was very confused and struggling to comprehend just exactly what my father was trying to tell me.
“Why do you think? She’ll try to escape otherwise and the cold iron keeps her from using her magic. She can entrance any man to her will.” He put a hand down and pulled her to her feet. She was tiny; she barely came up to my father’s chest but she was definitely a woman.
“Now, my dear, show my son exactly why we keep you here.” He took a small bronze pot out of his pocket and handed it to her.
Deirdre clutched it to her chest as though it was her child and crooned softly. I couldn’t understand a single word she said, because my father had refused to teach me Gaelic.           The pot began to glow; a soft golden light radiated from it and lit the darkened stall. She slowly began to sway in time to her chanting and the light grew stronger, until it was blinding me. She came to the climax of her song and stopped abruptly. I had kept my eyes shut tight against the brightness. When I opened my eyes the light had changed from a bright white light to a soft golden glow and lying in a small pile in the middle of the floor was gold, small gold nuggets the size of pearls, about fifty in total. My jaw dropped, this wasn’t possible.
”It’s trick it has to be.”
“No son it’s real, how do you think we made our money?” He asked.
“But I thought granddad had made our money in the gold rush.”
“That’s we told everyone. I mean, who’s going to believe that he had captured a real leprechaun in the old country.” He laughed. “Your grandfather caught her bathing in a pool in Wicklow and he took her pot of gold. But a leprechaun will die without her pot so she had to come with him.”
Deirdre had watched both of us intently, it seemed that she could understand most of what we said. But as my father reached out to take the pot from her she started screaming in Gaelic. And it was obvious that my father knew exactly what she was saying. He slapped her, hard across the face and his gold signet ring cut her cheek. Deirdre fell to the floor and said in a sweet lilting voice, “I spit on you and your children.”
Even though she was sprawled on the floor and covered in grime she was beautiful. I knelt down beside her and took my handkerchief from my pocket. There was a pail of water on the floor so I soaked the cloth in it and began to clean up the blood.
“My name’s P…” My father shoved me so hard that I fell beside Deirdre.
“Don’t tell her your name.” He bellowed. “Do you want to give her power over you?”
“I don’t understand. She’s only a girl.”
“No son she’s not. She’s faerie. That’s why she’s tied up with cold iron. It’s the only thing that stops her getting away and taking her revenge on us. She cannot be trusted,” he paused, “not ever.”
He scooped up the gold and walked out of the barn, calling for me to follow. I had no choice, my father was a hard man and if I did not obey him then Deirdre would not be the only one chained to a wall.

My grandfather had been a cruel master and even harsher on his children. Only my father had stayed at home. His brother had died in the civil war and his sister had fled north with her Yankee lover. He had ruled them with a fist of iron and was mean with money, even though as I now know he had more gold than Croesus. I can remember the day my grandfather died. He had been out taming a wild horse and had broken his neck when he fell from its back. It had reared and thrown him after receiving a terrible beating. My most vivid memory of that day was of the horse, its mouth was shredded and there were thick welts on its neck where my grandfather had whipped it. He had pushed the horse so hard that it had died not long after him.
I always thought that he was invincible but when he died it was as though a force of nature had died too. Things changed after that, my father had always walked in his shadow but now, without my grandfather’s control my life got worse. My father was weak. He was a bully, picking only on those weaker than him. People like my mother and me. You see my grandfather chose my father’s wife for him and he resented it. She was the heir of our impoverished neighbour and grandfather had coveted their land. So instead of buying the land he bought the daughter. My father never loved my gentle mother and only her death when I was eight ended years of suffering.
I never got used to the beatings and at sixteen I was tall enough to stand up to him, even though each time I did he only punished me harder. The only time I did was because of a servant. She had spilled wine on the table and he had lashed out with his crop. He was never without that thing. He would stride across the land tapping it on his leg, always playing the lord. I think he hated living in a remote estate with no access to society. I remember she had fallen and I had stood up to help her but my father stopped me with a raised hand. It should have been enough, but I had seen a faerie and I knew that my father had finally given me power over him. I helped Mary to stand and turned to face him.
“Just what the hell do you think you are playing at?” He asked, his face was purpling with anger but still I defied him.
“Stopping you from hurting her again.” I replied.
“How dare you.” He stormed, and lifted the crop again. He went to hit me but instead I grabbed at it. We grappled over the crop and I think I surprised us both with my strength. But he was still stronger and when he had broken free he gave me the worst beating of my life. I had bruised ribs and fractured my arm and my face was a purple mess.
I think that was the night I swore to leave. But I had been spending a great deal of time with Deirdre and I knew I would never be able to leave her behind. Each night I would creep down to her quarters and we would talk for hours. She would tell me stories of her life in Ireland and I would tell her about my dreams. I wanted to find somewhere small to live, to set up a smallholding and farm it for myself. I did not want this plantation and all of its hateful associations. The entire estate was built on persecution and cruelty and I wanted nothing to do with it. I suppose I was naïve, wanting to leave my heritage behind and start over. Naturally I didn’t want any of their ill-gotten gains to set me up. Instead I was going to work as a farmhand to build a small stake somewhere further west.
I remember going down to see her after my father had retired for the night. I was in terrible pain but I needed to see her. We had grown close, brought together by my father’s cruelty. Deirdre needed little food but she suffered greatly when she was deprived of her pot for too long. Somehow she was connected to it in a way I could never understand.
She tended my wounds with my old handkerchief. I had taken to leaving liniment and dressings down there for treating both our wounds.
“We need to get away soon. If we don’t he might end up killing me just as he did my mother.”
Deirdre was stroking my forehead, “But how can we? He still holds my pot and we don’t know where he keeps it. Have you looked everywhere?”
“Of course I have. The only place I haven’t is in his study and he keeps that locked. If he caught me in there he would kill me for sure.” I sat up and took her hands, “but I think I have run out of time. I don’t care if he does kill me. We have to try to escape.”
Deirdre was suddenly very serious, “Peter, there’s something I need to tell you and it isn’t good. Last night I felt death close by and it frightened me.”
“What do you mean, death?” I asked catching hold of her hand.
“You know I am a creature of nature and life. I bring harmony wherever I go and bestow blessings on the deserving. Well just as benign faerie exists so does its opposite. We bring life and others bring death. The one I felt last night was a creature known as a vampire. A life stealing creature that brings death to all it encounters.”
“A vampire?” I could scarcely believe what Deirdre was saying. But considering she was a leprechaun I had to believe her. “Does a vampire have to kill humans to survive?”
“Yes,” she said, “it does but it only needs to feed once a month, on the night of the darkling moon.”
“That’s tonight, isn’t it?” Suddenly I was gripped with a wild hope. “Deirdre,” I took her hands in mine, “could you call it to you? Could it be persuaded to attack my father?”
“No.” She pulled free from me and stood up. “You do not want to do this. You must not invite this creature into our lives. It kills indiscriminately and cannot be reasoned with. You cannot make deals with death.” She began to sob, her fear for me etched vividly on her face.
“Ok, I won’t do it, but we still need a plan to escape.” I stood up beside her. I pulled her close against me. “But I have to go, it’s getting light and if anyone sees me they might tell father.”
“Very well, but take care my love and come to me tonight if you can.” She kissed me lightly on the lips and pushed me away.
I left her that night as a mortal but when I returned to her death would follow.

I was attacked returning to the house, the creature threw me to the ground, the stink of stale blood on its breath. I called out to it before it sank its teeth into my neck. “No please, spare me, I can offer you something much better.”
He grunted at me, his speech was barely coherent, but was passable English. “Why should I spare you? Why do you deserve to live when I do not? Your blood will warm these cold bones.”
“Kill me and you will feed tonight. Wait and feed someone I choose and you can take everything that belongs to him. You would be free to feed without reprisals.”
He knelt back slightly but still holding me tight, a gruesome parody of my last embrace with Deirdre. “So tell me, what do you get from this arrangement?”
“Let me go and I’ll tell you.”
“No, persuade me to let you live and I might let you go.” The creature smiled and I saw the moonlight glint on its very sharp teeth. I gulped and took a deep breath, and almost gagged as the taste of blood hit the back of my throat.
“My father owns this plantation. If you kill him tonight I will sign everything over to you. You can kill everyone here and I will do nothing. Just let me live and you can settle here.”
He laughed. “And just how long would it be before your servants grew suspicious of all the deaths.”
“Not my problem”
“I think not, I wander for a reason. But you have taken the edge off my hunger with your eagerness to give away your inheritance. I don’t think it’s just because you want to live. Tell me, why?” He looked at me quizzically.
“My father governs this estate with violence and everyone is subject to his whim. Even me.”
“Ah yes, ironic really as it was the smell of your blood which drew me to you this night and,” he leant forward and slowly licked the blood from my forehead where it had begun to bleed again, “you walk around with no fear or knowledge of others who live in the darkness. This land breeds fearlessness and permits me to feed easily.”
“Yes but a fearless man still remembers to arm himself when he goes out at night.” I pulled a gun from its holster and shot him. It was at point blank and should have killed him, but instead the shock of the bullet forced him away from me and I was able to scramble to my feet. I finally got a look at him. He was tall and extremely thin, his clothing was of a fine quality but badly worn and covered in a thick layer of dirt. He looked as though he had been sleeping rough for a long time. His eyes were deep set and black, completely black.
“A gun can’t kill me but you intrigue me. Most of my recent victims have been easy prey. I have not had to fight for a meal in a while.” He shrugged and started to walk towards me.
“Don’t come any closer or I’ll shoot you again.”
“Haven’t you figured out yet, guns cannot harm me. No mortal weapon can.” He grabbed me and pulled me closer, “your willingness to offer up all those other people in recompense for killing your father shows a certain ruthlessness. I like it.” He pulled me closer until my feet could no longer touch the ground. “No, I don’t think I will kill you, or your father. But I will leave you with the means to do it yourself.” He sank his teeth into my neck and I rapidly lost consciousness.
And that was how I became a vampire. He killed me that night because I asked him to kill my father. He was true to his word. The first person I fed upon was my father. I watched him beg for clemency. But I still killed him. And, strangely, because of my new hunger I took pleasure watching the life draining slowly from his eyes.
I died that night. I had murdered my father and I knew that I was lost to life and as a consequence to Deirdre. I had become exactly what she was not. But I could still give her freedom.
The burning rays of the sun were lightening the sky so to hide from it I burrowed deep into my grandfather’s grave. I lay atop his coffin and slept through the long hours of the day. My fear for Deirdre was unable to keep me awake.
When I woke the next night the estate was in turmoil. My father’s body had been found and I was missing. My new skills helped me blend into the shadows and I was able to make my way to Deirdre. She was horrified when she saw me. I have never had someone recoil from me with such fear in her eyes. It shocked me from the torpor that had gripped me since the vampire bit me.
“What have you done?” she whispered.
“Nothing. I would have died no I should have died last night. Instead the vampire decided to turn me. I will die tonight but only after I make certain that you will live. Here I have your pot. You can leave and be free of this place. Maybe you could even go home.” I pulled the pot out of my pocket and gave it to her.
I could see the life pulsing from Deirdre but as I handed her the small bronze pot the energy that poured from her was incredible to see. It was a rainbow of colour streaming away from her into the night and I knew that this summer would be more beautiful than any I would ever know. It was in that moment that I realised what I truly had become. I stood in the light of that life and could not touch it. As it flowed from Deirdre it veered away from me. I was a darkness in that place and I would continue to blight life so long as I existed. I tore the leg iron from Deirdre’s slender ankle but when I accidentally brushed against her skin a searing pain flooded through me. We both screamed with shared pain. Life and death could not co-exist. I turned away from her; the light in her face was burning my eyes. 
“Stay with me.” She whispered. “Please.”
“How can I? We can’t even look at each other without pain. At least this way you will have a chance at life.”
“Without you I may as well be dead. You saved me but at such a cost.” She came closer but hesitated before touching me. I don’t think we were ready to face that agony again. “There must be a way for us to work this out.”
“There isn’t. You told me about the dangers and now I know it. When that vampire turned me I gained such terrible knowledge and I know that if we were to come together we could destroy the world.”
“No, I cannot believe this. I won’t.” I smiled wryly at her. She was so determined to find a way through this. “I can call upon Danu. She will help us.”
“Who?”
“Danu, the great mother. She from whom all life flows.”
Danu was the goddess of the Tuatha de Dannan. She had brought her children to Ireland and was the source of Deirdre’s magic.
“But surely I can’t expect her help. In my new condition I work for the other side, so to speak.” I tried reasoning with her, but she insisted on calling upon Danu. In my despair I agreed.

It’s strange but I can’t really remember much about her. I know that she was the most loving being I have ever encountered and that her love encompassed even creatures like me. We also had our place in the great plan. She could not help me but she understood everything I had done and why. So in her great love she took something from both of us. We willingly gave up the strongest of our powers. This would allow us to share the rest of our lives together. Deirdre could no longer spin gold. As for me, I don’t really know what I lost, except I do know that in all our years together since that night, I have never been able to turn another human being. Not that I would have wanted to, but she has prevented me from adding men to the ranks of Death’s army.

We fled from North Carolina further south to Arizona. We live quietly on the outskirts of Tombstone in the old abandoned mines. It’s a difficult life but we are together and the tourists Tombstone attracts swell the town’s population. Enough to keep my hunger abated and Deirdre ensures that the land is abundant enough to keep the town alive. Thus we fulfil our natures. By day Deirdre shares these lands with the creatures who make their home here and by night I haunt them striking terror wherever creatures sensitive enough feel my passing. Each night she waits for me to rise. We walk home and she tells me about her day, her scent of living things teasing my hunger.