Vampire Diary: Love Letters

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Dear Diary,

I do not understand the ways of love in this modern world. Not my love. I know my own cold un-beating heart. It is that of others I do not understand. It is not always women because Vampire women have always been of their own minds. They take what they want. We have no defenses. Not that we care, but I do not understand the men.

Oh what a night. My head still spins, but Dear Diary, stay with my thoughts no matter how confused I might seem on this page.

This modern world is strange indeed. Even Vampires play the fool now. It used to be that we, or most of us, were in control. Then I was sealed in a crypt for three hundred years. While I was there, and I am the Vampire King, what do they say now, all Hell broke loose. Vampires lost their minds and became weak. They lost track of their emotions. They became idiots. I am at a loss. Since I am Vlad, the Vampire King I will do my best to educate the young Vampires on the ways  of old.

Tonight I went out my favorite tavern. After mingling with the regulars I looked around and spotted a lone Vampire. Only I knew he was another Vampire. I had spoken to him before tonight, but that was before I knew how pathetic he had become.

He was a young Vampire, perhaps seventy years of age. Yet, he looked young, as I do. I am centuries old. The card I carry that enables me to drive an automobile without being taken to prison says I am thirty four years old. So I lie. I am a Vampire. It is what I do to keep warm blooded people from bothering me. We all do it. You would do the same. I would be crazy to admit I was born in the time modern historians call the Dark Ages.

My young Vampire friend, a fellow called Byron, sat in a back booth of a local bar, alone, with nothing but paper and a ball point pen. Ball point pens are a true modern marvel. He had a glass of red wine in front of him. His face carried an extreme look of sadness.

“What is this?” I asked pointing to the paper he was writing on.

He did not look up, “A legal pad.”

I was puzzled by his answer. “There is paper that is not allowed?”

Byron looked at me with his eyebrows together. “No. Legal pad, as in lawyers.”

“So James, you are writing law? What sort of law?”

“I’m writing a love letter. You should know all about that the way women love you.”

“Are love letters now something that is dictated by law?”

He took a swallow of his wine and spoke again. “No. Yellow paper is just called a Legal Pad because lawyers use it for their notes. Yellow is easy to find. Sheesh Vlad. I’m writing a love letter. Even if wasn’t legal I’d still be writing it.” His face was sad like a mourner at a funeral.

Then I looked upon the page in horror. What came from the head and heart of this man, this Vampire man was both appalling and terrifying.

My darling Lydia,

I long for you company. I am lonely and need you. You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. I sit alone in this bar thinking about nothing but you. Why won’t you love me? Why won’t you notice me? I am here. I hold my hand out to you to come with me. Be by my side. Be my Vampire Queen. Make me complete. My life is a failure without you. Please, it has been so long since I have had a woman in my life. I need you.

“What is this?” I asked.

He gave me a long sad look like a guilty dog who has stolen a man’s dinner off of the table. “I told you man, I’m writing a love letter.”

“This is no love letter. This is a letter of a worm. This is the letter of a man who is not a man but a weak pathetic boy who still longs for his mother’s milk.”

His mouth hung open in surprise. “Vlad I’m not a pervert.”

“Good,” I said.  “That is a trait that will not attract women.”

He shook his head. “No, man, I don’t want my mom’s boobs. I’m not into that.”

“You are an idiot. That is what is called an analogy. It means you have the emotions of a baby.”

Again he looked surprised as if he had never heard the truth before. “What do you mean?”

If I did not carry the title of Vampire King I would have rolled my eyes like a teenage girl. “Byron, please look at the words you put upon your page. No woman, especially a Vampire woman, would respond well to those words. If she is wise she will either ignore you, or better yet, put you out of your misery. Maybe I should put you out of your misery. Your paper may be legal but the pathetic words that you write break every law of romance.”

“Well, I don’t know what to write. I mean, you’re like scary good looking. Every woman in this place thinks you’re the cutest guy they’ve ever seen,” Byron said, looking as if he was about to cry tears.

I did not ask him what he meant by scary good looking. I am good looking but I am not scary looking. As I said, he is an idiot. I know I am cute. I do not understand it, but that is what all of the women who meet me say both to my face and behind my back. Kittens are cute. Babies are cute. I am neither a kitten or a baby. Byron acts like a baby and that is not cute. I am still trying to understand.

I put my hand on his shoulder. He shuttered at my touch. “I am not going to hurt you. I am going to help you,” I said in a low voice.

“Are you going to make her love me?”

“If I do try to make Lydia love you she will hate me forever, but yes, I will try,” I said.

I put pen upon paper and wrote….

Dear Lydia,
I think of you and I smile. When we speak with each other I feel content. Our words flow together as if we are writing a musical about thoughts and ideas to be shared. I feel comfortable around you, as if a century passed our conversations would continue to be fresh, and enlightening. I am glad we met. It would honor me if you would join me in a night under the stars. I look forward to hearing from you.

I put down the pen then I looked up at Byron. “This is but a start. Do not make your attempt at courtship about you. Make it about the woman you wish to be with. This is not about your emotions but about hers. If she agrees to spend time with you, and only then, do you tell her your own feelings. When you tell her how you feel do not act as if you are starving for blood after a year buried in a grave. Act as though you are in control. Be…what do they say now…be an adult about it. Be mature. Not like cheese but like wine. Like a real man.”

I thought to myself that my brain was going to liquify and drain out of my ear if I had to spend another moment with Byron, so I excused myself. This was not what I had planned on doing tonight. Byron thanked me. He told me he would keep me informed of the outcome of his attempt at attracting Lydia. I do not know this Lydia but I am tempted to tell her to run as far away as she can.

~ Vlad

 

Dear Diary,

Tonight we have our veins full of blood, and our hearts full of love. We might be Vampires, but we are also very much alive.

I lay next to my lover Gillian, watching her in a cold silent slumber. You are so beautiful my love I whisper. She silently smiles and rolls over to face me. I stroke her shoulder and run my hand along her bare arm. I kiss her neck, barely scraping her skin with the tips of my fangs. She signs, and then melts into my arms like ice in the summer sun.

I have nothing more to say.

~ Vlad

 

Romantic Lovers

This picture isn’t really Vlad and Gillian but just for today you can pretend it is. For the complete  Vlad’s Vampire Diary CLICK HERE.

Demons

I’ve had several posts mentioning Demons, especially concerning my brother Max. A few years ago I visited him at his house in San Francisco. Our parents and brother Andy, also live in the City by the Bay. I’m the one everyone calls when things get weird. Max is single and lives alone, and I’m also married to Teddy, his best friend since childhood.

Anyway, this is why we don’t like Demons around, at least one of the reasons.

strangereyes

My eldest brother Max, for those of you who don’t know, is one of those alpha Vampires who hunts Vampire Hunters, Rogue Vampires and all sorts of nasty evil and just plain annoying creatures and things that go bump in the night. He is a hunter and sometimes a killer – that said, he and his associates protect us all from things we shouldn’t need to deal with.

Max looked like Hell warmed over. He’d been out on a call and found himself up against a group of Demons. Yes, that kind of Demon – nasty and evil, no doubt straight from Hell and running rampant trying to cause problems anywhere it could.

Teddy still has the cold hard fear of Demons. That isn’t a bad thing. We don’t like them. They’re creatures that don’t derive from humanity but like goblins, have no problems pretending they derive from humans.

A long nasty deep pair of scratches ran across Max’s arm. There was no sign of healing on the ugly red marks. He’d been cornered and put up a fight before his back-up team arrived. The Demons were taken care of but not first without doing damage to Max and who knows who or what else.

Late into the night we talked over several bottles of wine and blood. Our brother Andy came by as well for a few hours to visit. Max was restless the entire night. Just before dawn we all retired to spend a rare day sleeping (Teddy and I live during the daylight due to school hours.)

I was awake before dusk. It was a beautiful clear day. From the back window I could see a panoramic view of the San Francisco Bay going out into the Pacific Ocean and the Golden Gate Bridge. No wonder Max loved living here so much.

In the kitchen making tea I discovered Max’s old friend Celeste. She was beautiful beyond compare, wearing nothing but a pair of black lace panties and a magnificent seal skin coat. That wasn’t unusual because Celeste is a Selkie. On the land she is a women and in the ocean a seal. I was and wasn’t surprised to find her there. Max says he won’t mingle with those who aren’t like him, but I know who his friends are. I have no problems with Celeste or her kind.

Celeste rolled her shoulders and told me about my brother. “He called me last night. Said he needed some distraction. You know how Max is. His brain just gets full or he gets bothered and doesn’t know what to do about it. You know, Juliette we’re just friends with benefits. I just fuck him and talk. Nothing else. You think I’d be crazy enough to fall in love with a Vampire? Not on your life. Just friends. Always just friends.

Celeste then put a wedge of lemon in her tea and continued, “There is someone else, a Vampire girl he has a strange sort of bond with, but he doesn’t want any emotional entanglements with her. He was afraid she’d be too much for him, for his heart. I’ve never seen a guy try to logic and think his way out of falling in love like Max has this time.”

I saw a long burn along Celeste’s arm. “Oh that. I brushed against Max’s arm where the demon scratched him. Damned if it didn’t burn me too. The salt water will heal it. But you need to check in on him. He’s in pretty bad shape. The Demons really got to him this time and not just physically. They really fucked with him big time,” she told me in her whiskey and silk voice.

I took her arm and looked at the burn. It was hot to the touch. I spit on my finger and rubbed it along the burn.

“It stopped hurting. Thanks,” she said with a smile full of sharp white teeth. It was a smile that she won’t show a Regular Human. I have to admit I was flattered.

After a bit more small talk she left and no doubt went back into the Pacific Ocean and turned back into a seal.

I went upstairs to Max’s room. He was asleep, curled in soft gray blankets wearing a black silk robe. I took his arm and looked at the deep scratches that had turned an angry blackish red.

He opened his eyes. The usual blue gray hazel had turned dark, almost a dull black. I could tell he wasn’t well.

“I saw Celeste. She is worried about you.”

He gave me a “join the club” look. He didn’t need to say it out loud.

Taking his arm, I put my hand over the poisoned gashes and saw the ugly face of the Demon who clawed him.

“Don’t little sister. You’ll get sick,” Max said.

Ignoring him pricked my finger with the tip of my fang and let a drop of blood fall on his wounds. I put my hand back on his arm and willed the poison away.

Yes, I did end up making it to the bathroom before I threw up and almost fell over from my head spinning, but I was fine after a few minutes (ok hours). The poison wasn’t meant for me so I was fine – bothered but fine. It could have stayed with Max for weeks or even months. It could have set him back into a spiral of depression and hopelessness that if not taken care of could have done permanent damage. Demons are like that. They’re horrible evil things.

I kissed his cold cheek and left my brother to sleep.

When someone you love is poisoned by Demons you need to help them get through it – no matter what kind of Demons. They do a lot of damage, but it can be fixed. Demons hate any kind of love or understanding and will poison us against it. So we fight them. And those like Max fight them so they can’t hurt anyone else.

Like I’ve said, when you’re a Modern Vampire every single day has the potential of being weird, but we do what we can do avoid it.

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

Vampire Diary: It Will Be Fun

Dear Diary,

I went to my mail box today. Unlike when I lived in my castle the mail box is in a wall of mail boxes built like a columbarium with a lot of little boxes all together with names on the, except mail is put there. It would not surprise me to find ashes, or even a skull in my box one day. That would be a pleasant change from so many advertisements.

The two cats, and the Jane the coyote pup with the soul of a Werewolf, followed me to the mail box. They ran around together then as I stopped the cats climbed a nearby tree, and Jane sat on my foot and leaned against my leg.

As I gathered up my mail, glad to see a packet of letters from Europe, my neighbor , a woman named Liz whom I am friendly with and drink wine with came to get her own mail.

“I am so glad you and Gillian are going to see Beauty and the Beast with us,” she said with a big smile.

I did not understand. What had my lover Gillian agreed to?

“I do not understand,” I said to Liz.

“You’re so cute Vlad. The movie. Gillian said you’d go with us. We’re getting a group together. It will be fun.” Then she scratched Jane between her shoulder blades. Jane licked Liz on the chin.

When I arrived back at my house, behind closed doors, I thought about what Liz had said. It will be fun.

I thought about a long time ago when I was a young man of seventeen years and someone said to me it will be fun.

In the court of my father was a Vampire called Lord Cuthbert. Cuthbert was not only large and handsome, but he was also vain and cruel.

One day he said, “Come with me Vlad. We will go to the woods for sport. It will be fun.

When we arrived in a dark spot in the woods Cuthbert took out his whip and started to beat me. Then he pushed me to the ground and held me there with his foot.

“You are too pretty to be a man. Maybe I should make you my bitch,” he said laughing and showing his fangs.

I was strong and young. I pushed him off of me, but he sliced open my arm with his knife. I stood in shock as he laughed in my face. Then he took my horse and left me in the woods.

“Next time Vlad, I will make you cry like a little girl,” he said as he rode off.

I said nothing to my father. Only my friend Randolpho knew what had happened.

The following week Cuthbert said to Randolpho, “Come to the woods with me. We will hunt wild boar. It will be fun.”

Randolpho went to the woods with Cuthbert. There Cuthbert beat Randolpho with a club, and stabbed him over and over with a knife. Then he took Randolpho’s clothing and left him naked to walk home.

The following day Cuthbert said to a Vampire girl called Sabine, “Come Beautiful Sabine, see the wild flowers with me. It will be fun.”

Cuthbert overpowered Sabine and violated her. He cut off a large chunk of her hair. He cut her face. He carved his name on her belly with his jewel handled knife, and threatened to kill her if she told anyone.

Sabine told Randolpho for he was her sweetheart.

The following day I said to Cuthbert, “Come to the woods with us near where the Wolf Folk live in their rough cottages. We will play a trick on them. It will be fun.”

Cuthbert was happy to go with us. He enjoyed nothing more than taunting and molesting Wolf Folk. We passed the village of the Wolf People, those who are part animal, and live as poor sad outcasts in their rough villages. They looked at us from the windows of their crude houses. They licked their lips with fear in their eyes.

“Look at you ugly filthy creatures,” yelled Cuthbert. “Go back in your dens before I put chains around your necks and pull you to Hell. But first I will take your women dog style.” Then he laughed a full belly laugh and showed his long sharp Vampire fangs. I was disgusted with him but said nothing.

To make this long story somewhat shorter I will finish up as not to get hand cramps. Outside of the Wolf Village I told Cuthbert to get off of his horse. When he did I struck him down with my sword. I cut off his right hand. He fell to his knees. Randolpho kicked Cuthbert down, then took out his knife and cut off Cuthberts manhood. As he lay screaming, the Wolf Folk gathered around. I sliced into Cuthbert’s flesh and threw it to the Wolf Folk who quickly ate it up. Bit by bit I flayed him, feeding the hungry half humans. Small Wolf Children ran up and begged for his nose, lips and ears. Cuthbert watched as he was devoured and begged us to stop.

“Sabine begged for you to stop and you laughed in her face, and made her suffer the worst humiliation. You disgust me. This is for Sabine,” I said as I cut off his nose and threw it to the laughing Wolf Children. Then Randolpho and I left. The sounds of Cuthbert screaming could be heard as the Wolf Folk ate him alive, and did not leave a single bone untouched. From a place behind the Wolf Folk Sabine watched and smiled.

Then Gillian came into the room and asked, “What are you thinking about. Vlad, the look on your face…”

I smiled. “Nothing darling. Liz told me that we were going to go see a movie. It will be fun.”

~ Vlad

 

Dear Diary,

Movie theaters fascinate me. There are times when I am unable to tell I am just sitting and watching. I am transported into another world.

This movie Beauty and the Beast is an old story. Like a girl falling in love with one of the Wolf Folk, only this man is enchanted by a wizard. He is a beast in a land of no other beasts. That is how some Vampires feel when they are out of sorts and wonder who could love them. Oh the prisons some put around themselves.

It was fun, but the theater was full of people so there was no chance to go to a back rows for snacks.

But the story was odd. I prefer the film Gillian and I saw last week. It was straight forward and to the point. It was about a man called Rick who owned a bar in a place where refugees met. The woman he loved and mysteriously lost showed up with a new husband who was a famous leader. Rick let her go despite the agony in his heart because it was for the good of all. I might not have been so noble. A kiss is not just a kiss. A bite is just not a bite. And all beautiful friendships have notable beginnings.

All of the women who went to view the movie with us said I reminded them of the Beast. I asked why. They said it was that we were both cute. I do not understand, but I smile without my fangs to be polite. I do not want them to ever consider me a beast. I thought of the Wolf Folk. I do not ask Gillian about it because she would only roll her eyes at me.

~ Vlad

 

Dear Diary,

Yesterday I had a dream about dancing with Gillian in a huge ballroom. She wore a yellow ball gown. I’d never seen her look so beautiful. We danced around the floor with eyes only on each other, then the chairs around the edge of the room started to move towards us. When they started to attack I woke.

Tonight I went out to more adult places to hunt. I had had enough of fairy tales and talking furniture. At one intersection there were bars, alleys, dark corners, and people wanting companionship, if only for a night.

When I arrived home, full from a successful night, the cats and Jane were waiting.

Gillian came out wearing something pretty, yellow, extremely small, lacy, and almost completely transparent.

She held out her hand and led me towards the stairs to the bedroom. “It will be fun,” she whispered.

“I have an idea for some games,” I said.

“Be my guest,” said Gillian, as she put her lips to mine in kiss that would enchant the coldest heart and deadest soul. Then she…oh yes she did.

And she was telling the truth. It was fun.

~ Vlad

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Short Story Sunday: Being Real (An Austin and Elizabeth Story)

“Not once have I missed my old way of life.”

In the early morning light, at a small table by the window, in the neighborhood coffee shop, Elizabeth listened to her friend. She guessed she could call him a friend. They’d known each other for over a hundred years. He was still wearing a dark formal suit, his cashmere coat and silk scarf folded on a chair next to him. She was wearing jeans, with a pink sweater over a button up white shirt. He could pass for a Vampire. She could pass for just another pretty girl having coffee with a handsome but weird friend.

“Where were you last night Sebastian?”

He smiled a lovely Vampire smile with only a hint of fang for his friend. “Nowhere and everywhere. I was headed for a party and ended up with a flat tire in a dark alley that smelled like urine and garbage. I found myself at the doorstep of a club featuring a jazz band. They were improvising. The way they were dressed, and the way they acted reminded me of the clubs in France. You know, the ones that were part of the resistance, sort of zoot suits and crazy dancing. They were young, mostly white with some East Asians, a few black kids, a beautiful Mexican girl dressed like Freda Kahlo…you aren’t listening to a word I’ve said.”

Elizabeth looked him straight in the eye. “It was a diverse group. We live in a diverse city. Benjamin was part of that group in France after the German’s came in, no before they came in. Remember? God, you two were tight. What happened to him?”

“He was captured and put to death. Actually he killed himself before he let them, the Nazis, touch him and send him off for experiments and… I miss him. I thought Bernadette would die when she heard. I didn’t see her for years after. She joined a group of hunters. It wasn’t like her, but sometimes one must go beyond their comfort zones.”

“Where is she now?”

“London. She owns an art gallery specializing in Degenerate Art. She called it Benjamin’s Lush Gallery. An odd name but it works. She is really happy. I’m happy for her.”

“I’m happy for her too, but now I feel sad. Poor Ben.”

“You always feel sad. You should come out with me. Be a real Vampire again. It will do you a world of good.”

Elizabeth smiled. “Sounds like fun. Maybe later this week if you’re open. Love you Sebbie. I have to go.” She kissed him on his cold smooth cheek and started to leave. Sebastian grabbed her hand.

“Are you still with your lover?”

“No. He wants to be with me but…,” Elizabeth started but Sebastian cut her off.

“No buts. It doesn’t matter that he is not a Vampire. If he loves you, then rejoice in your time together. He knows who and what you are.”

“No Sebastian, you don’t understand.”

“Elizabeth, he brought your smile back.”

She kissed him again and dropped his hand, then left without turning back.

Walking through the neighborhood she wished she had a dog. Maybe she’d go to the shelter on Tuesday, or look on Craigslist for a dog. She kept so calm and cool for so long. It was difficult to keep so much control for such a long time. Now she lived in a world of normal people with warm blood, and short lives. Everything made her sad, or maybe it was just that nothing made her happy.

She arrived at her front door and checked her watch. It was 7:34 a.m. Early but not too early. Sitting on her front porch step she pulled out her phone and dialed a number. Before she could hang up he answered.

“Elizabeth,” he said, as if surprised. Of course he was surprised. She hadn’t talked to him in months.

“Hi, Austin.”

“I didn’t think I’d ever hear from you again.”

“I love you Austin. I love you so much, and so true, and with my entire unbeating heart.”

“Are you home?”

“Yes. I’m home. Come over.”

“I’ll be over in 45 minutes. I love you.”

“Don’t be late.”

She put the phone in her pocket and sat for a bit. The neighbor’s orange cat Hector came by and rubbed against her legs. Small birds shuttled around in the trees. Elizabeth rubbed the cat’s head and went inside.

Going into the kitchen she went to the refrigerator and poured a tall glass of blood and downed it. Then she rinsed her mouth out and waited for Austin, and for her undead life to start.

~ end

For all of the continuing Austin and Elizabeth series CLICK HERE. 

Tangled Tales

 

 

 

Short Story Sunday: Perfection

A short story about my brother Max. Some of you might have read it before. Today I’m reposting two tales about Vampire guys and their romantic adventures. Enjoy.

Perfection.

Maxwell drove down the coastal highway, roof open under the stars and the cool night air, thinking about his life as a top of the heap alpha male Vampire. It was a good time to ponder.

He didn’t have personal friendships with humans, the way some other Vampires did. He would protect them when necessary but he wouldn’t be their friend – at least not a close friend, not for a long time.

Of course he had human lovers, but that was pure physical need for their touch and their blood.

Vampire woman were another matter. He tended to be a freak magnet when it came to them. The normal ones were out there but they were always involved or off-limits in some way or another. Or they were too strong and independent. Or in rare moments, years ago, he’d used bad judgement and not seen the big picture. Screw the big picture, he’d grown up and moved on. He was different now.

There were always other men, but right now he had the need for a female of his own kind. Someone safe and easy. Someone who would be there for him after a job that often involved violence and other unpleasantries.

He’d had plenty of friends with benefits.

Carmel by the Sea. The beautiful village on the California coast. A place full of artists and rich people and those just wanting some peace and quiet. His Grandmama had lived here when the artist colony was thriving at the turn of the 20th century. He used to visit her and fall in love with the place and everyone in it.

This weekend was the Concourse de Elegance the most prestigious car show in the universe. Everyone who was anyone would be here, including Vampire Hunters. And since Max was the world’s foremost hunter of Vampire Hunters he was looking forward to it. A weekend of perfect cars, perfect women and perfect hunting.

It had been a long day and a long drive. He took his bags out of the car and walked to the door of the cottage he’d rented with 3 of his colleagues. He wasn’t sure who’d be here as it was last notice for him. He’d hoped it would be Pierce and David, two of the best and total car guys. He figured as long as they were there they might as well have some fun.

He used his key and as he opened the door cheers came up. Female cheers.

Elizabeth, Janye and Mehitabel. Vampire women who were also Hunter/Enforcers of the highest order and all GIRLS.

This was not what he was expecting. Not at all.

They exchanged warm greetings (he didn’t show his true feelings about the situation) and he left to shower off the weariness of the road. As he was drying off he could hear the girls talking. He stopped rubbing his hair to listen.

Janye: I can’t believe the choices Max makes. His last girlfriend was one of those types who always looks perfect and helpless. A total control freak.

Elizabeth: Total bitch. She just used him and he was too stupid to know it. Oh my God she had fangs like a saber tooth tiger, no it was more like a rabbit. And she was always telling everyone how attractive she was. I wish she’d done us all a favor and gone down with the Titanic.

Mehitabel: She used him. Most of them just used him. He wouldn’t know his perfect match if she slapped him across the face.

The women went on talking about his physical attributes (excellent), his professional attributes (excellent), his qualities as a Vampire (outstanding) and his relationships with woman (pathetic.) Great, this was going to be a wonderful weekend.

He’d known all three of them for years, over 100 but he’d never heard this side of the story. Damn. Was he that ridiculous? No, it had to be them. Women were so skewed.

He’d always been friends with Elizabeth and Jayne. It wasn’t like the movies or books where Vampire women drop their clothes and crawl naked all over their dominant male counterparts. Besides, these two were like sisters.

Then there was Mehitabel. Beautiful and strange, at least to him. He couldn’t stay away from her at one time, but he couldn’t be with her, not in his heart. She was too easy for him to use. He’d never love her, but he’d never met a woman so sexy, who could drive him so insane with desire. But she wasn’t the one. He made that clear from the start. It would never be.

The women helped him bring in the weapons and they sat around the table with bottles of wine, Bourbon and blood. They laughed over old times, new times and everything in between.

Despite his first impression he knew these three Vampire women were at the top of their game and would be loyal and true with him. And in turn he would do anything to protect them. They’d be a good team. They’d get the job done.

Beside that, he knew they’d like the cars.

They were excited to show him their dresses. Elizabeth, the most outgoing, a California blonde of the first order, had a red-flowered strapless sundress of silk with a wide skirt and strappy red heels. Jayne had a royal blue halter dress that looked like it had come right out of Grace Kelly’s closet. A redhead with an attitude, Jayne had a fierce sence of humor and a fierce sence of the fight. Mehitabel had a black sheath dress with a pattern of leaves woven into the fabric. It was form fitting, which was good since she had an extraordinary form. She’d wear it with a long strand of real black pears and matching earrings. She’d wear her brown hair sleek and long.

Mehitabel was as odd and unusual as her name, but he had always liked her. He was drawn to her humor and her matter of fact ways with a touch of something sad that he could never quite figure out.

He’d also had a history with Mehitabel. She knew his every move. And in turn he knew every move she made, every inch of her body, everything she had to give him and then some. But she wasn’t the one. She wasn’t the girl of his dreams. She was different. Max wasn’t looking for different. He was looking for perfection. But that was a long time ago, at least 90 years, maybe more like 100.

As the night went on he thought maybe he’d relive some of the magic of days gone by. It would be a way to get off some of the tension before a week of dangerous work.

“I’m going to go to the beach. Anyone want to join me?” He asked that as he looked at the women.

“Sure,” said Mehitabel, “I’ll go.”

They walked along making small talk. It seems so comfortable and so right. Old friends forever, just like old time. As they came to the beach on the edge of the Pacific Ocean Mehitabel became silent.

“You’re quiet tonight,” Max said, ready to make a move on her. One kiss and she’d be his for the week. The others wouldn’t care, unless it was pure envy.

Mehitabel stepped away. “It was never friends with benefits or fuck buddies or whatever you want to call it with me Max. I loved you but you never wanted it. You just threw it away and treated me like some common girl that needed to be slut shamed. I loved you for so long and now I don’t know. I’m not perfect enough for you. You want a woman who will break your heart into a thousand shards and I can’t do that for you. If you had spent some time with me, some real-time and looked past the imperfections…”

“I never said that…” Max protested.

“You didn’t have to. You used me Max. You used me so I had to let you go. Don’t you understand?” Mehitabel was now angry, something he’d never seen.

He tried to take her hand, “The last time we saw each other, I mean romantically, you were the one who turned me away. You told me to go.”

She stepped away again. “To go back to your girlfriend. I wasn’t going to be with a man who was cheating on another girl, especially another Vampire. I told you that. Remember?”

Max remembered too well. She’d always been so friendly and compliment about his relationship rules.

Mehitabel continued her rant. “And there had been no romance. Sure we’d talked into the night. Sure we had some sort of weird connection where we could read each other’s thoughts, excuse me, I could read your thoughts, or at least I know when you’re thinking about ME, but it was never romance. Not with you it wasn’t. You did everything you could to talk yourself out of caring about me.”

“I’ve been thinking about you a lot,” Max said gently, trying to calm her.

“I know that.”

She was right. She always knew. There was some sort of strong connection where she always knew when he was thinking about her. It was spooky.

“Why didn’t you contact me?” Max was almost feeling hurt that she’d think of ignoring him after all of their history.

“Why didn’t you love me Max?”

“It wasn’t like that Mehitabel. I was just looking for something else.”

“What? Oh right, perfection. Well Max, I might be among the most elite hunters on the planet but I’ll never be anything but an imperfect slut to you. I’m never going to let you break my heart again. Do you understand that Max?”

“I’m sorry.”

“So am I.”

She walked down the beach alone. He wondered if she was crying. He’d find out later.

Over the years he’d taken down Werewolves, Vampire Hunters with fire blowers, Ghosts, Rogue Vampires and Zombies. He’d seen it all. He was Maxwell August Todd, one of the greatest Enforcer/Hunters of all time, but this was one battle he couldn’t win.

“Mehitabel, I’m sorry,” he called after her.

Then he remembered something his mother had told him, one of those things that he wished he’d remembered earlier. “Max, my darling boy, remember, if we were all perfect then life would be so boring you’d hardly be able to stand it.”

Looking down the beach at the woman walking along the edge of the night surf, he suddenly realized he was in love and this would be the most difficult fight of his life.

He called her name again. She turned and yelled “Go to Hell.”

“Yes,” he said to himself out loud, “to hell and back.”

 

~End

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

 

Tangled Tales

Short Story Sunday: A Man Should Have What He Wants (A Nasty Little Vampire Story)

Today I’m featuring not one, but two sort of romantic Vampire stories about guys with relationship issues. Some of you might have read these before. The other featured story is called Perfection. Anyway, have fun, and be amused and entertained.

A Man Should Have What He Wants

A Story from Juliette aka Vampire Maman (first posted April 2013)

 

A house full of books and the ghosts of what could have been.

What can be. Oliver Thomas thought as he sat on the edge of the bed.

He never let himself get close to those he visited over the years. It was easy to become detached just as one could be detached to an apple or a head of lettuce.

She slept quietly. On the nightstand were books, earrings, a clock set for 5:00 a.m., and her glasses. Her husband was snoring and slept in another room. Her children were tucked into their dreams. Oliver made sure of that. They’d all be asleep.

Oliver Thomas kept coming back to her. She was different, by her own accord. Laurel had always been different – the type who saw the world in visions and possibilities. Someone who overcame obstacles. If she grew to be old she’d be a sweet eccentric with her window boxes full of exotic flowers and vast knowledge of the obscure and unusual.

She had a hard time making friends due to her shyness and reluctance to follow up. Her fear of rejection paralyzed her in some areas of her life. Most of life was paralyzing but she seemed to thrive and succeed.

Yet, the woman could light up a room with her wit and charm. She was a success despite her low opinion of herself.

But he’d fallen in love with her in a strange way that someone falls in love with an idea of perfection and the ideal person to share life’s adventures with.

Her teenage kids still hung all over her like toddlers, leaning on her even now. They were taller than she was, dressed in their black band shirts with trendy long hair and black painted nails. Oliver had seen Laurel once, her son with his lanky arm around her shoulder, her daughter with an arm around her waist. How many women, he wondered, envied her for the closeness she had with her children.

If it wasn’t for her children she might have checked out and left the world a long time ago. Since childhood Laurel had been uncomfortable with life and the tremendous effort it took for her to live with herself and her failures.

Oliver saw that Laurel had failed to see her success, except with her children. He didn’t want to think of her marriage with Craig. It worked better than most. In fact, for the most part, her marriage to Craig was an uncommon success.

Craig, the handsome and successful husband, was the love of her life. Even in her dreams Laurel couldn’t cheat on Craig. They’d built a life together. For her that was enough. More than enough she told herself.

But Oliver knew it wasn’t enough. Laurel found her life in others but kept her secret soul and passions locked up, bound in shadows and secrets.

At one time, Oliver and Laurel had been lovers. The memory of her warm skin, her lips on his own, her hands in his hair and her passion haunted him. He’d come and gone from her life assuming she’d always be there.

Now he was only with her in the dream world of the night. She’d remember him in another time and place in long lost memories of centuries past. She’d think she’d had a life in another time with him, a past life of possibilities and promise and passion.

An unlikely candidate this middle aged working mom, too tired and busy to think of herself except when she let her imagination fly as she commuted to school and work in her car each morning, or when she dozed off at night in her own secret places.

The passions were still in her, as it had been when she was young. How could that be? He kissed her then buried his face into her neck and when he’d had enough of her he silently left her with dreams of passion and desire.

The following evening Oliver looked up from his desk and there she was, standing in the doorway. Black dress, apple green sweater, black heels. The blue Coach bag, a 50th birthday present from her husband was slung over her shoulder. She looked she owned the world, but she still didn’t think she was beautiful.

How did she find me here? I never told her where I live?

“Laurel.” He said her name as if in a dream.

“Don’t Laurel me Oliver. I want you to leave me alone.”

He stood and approached her with his hands held out. “It was always the wrong time or place for us.”

She stepped back ignoring his open arms. “Don’t even start with me Oliver. It would have never worked. You always said I was too independent. Then you turned around and called me needy.”

“I never said any of those things.” He was shocked by her accusations.

“You didn’t have to say it. You made it obvious you were thinking it.”

He didn’t respond. This wasn’t the time for the witty dialog they’d shared in the past, the long talks through the night or the sweet lover’s words.

“Laurel, you can’t stand there before me and say that with a straight face.”

She looked at the floor then looked up straight into his eyes. “You never told me you loved me.”

“I didn’t have to.”

“Bull shit. You just expected me to hang around and wait for you to come in and out of my life. It got old Oliver. But it doesn’t matter. I’m married to a man who loves me the way I am. I’m successful, happy and I love my life.”

“I doubt if Craig realizes what a fortunate man he is.”

“He knows.”

“Did you ever tell him about me?” Oliver took a step forward. Laurel folded her arms as if to shut him out.

“I haven’t told anyone about you. They’d all think I was nuts. Just like my Aunt Margaret when she talked about her Vampire.”

“You still love me Laurel.” Oliver said those words quietly with such passion that almost no woman would be able to resist. No woman except Laurel.

She turned and left, slamming the door behind her.

Oliver watched from the window as she got in her car and drove away. The slightest hint of regret surged through his dark thoughts. He’d never meet another who captured his heart and his passions like she had. He’d never meet anyone who made him laugh or feel the joy of being like Laurel had.

Oliver heard the steps behind him but didn’t turn around. A warm hand caressed his shoulder.

“Is she gone?” The speaker was obviously annoyed.

“Yes.”

“Does she have any idea I’m here?”

“No.”

Craig looked out the window. “Good. Where do we go from here?”

“Are you absolutely sure you want to do this?”

“My son is an Emo freak who acts in plays and writes poetry for fun. My daughter won’t talk to anyone unless it’s a text. My wife is never going to lose the baby fat or stop telling stupid jokes or snoring or complaining how hard she works. It wasn’t what I signed up for.”

“I understand.”

“Just for once I want what I want. I don’t want to go home to a woman who is tired all the time and can’t even comprehend my needs.”

“What about your children? You must care about them on some level.”

“They’ll be fine without me. Laurel will have two million dollars in life insurance to get the kids through college. There’s another 10 million in assets she can sell off if she has to. She’ll make sure her children have wonderful memories of me.”

“The news of your death will break her heart.”

Craig scowled at Oliver. “Laurel is already so miserable she won’t even notice. She’ll be happy to be the unfortunate widow and bask in the glow of her own sorrow. I’m doing her a favor by dying rather than divorcing her.”

“And your girlfriends?” Asked Oliver.

“They’re whores who think they can get ahead by sleeping with the CEO. They’ll both get their pink slips next week. So now what?”

Oliver went back around to his desk and sat in the antique leather chair. “Your car will be found in the river and it will be assumed your body was washed away with the currents. Your wallet and a few clothing items will be found washed up on a beach. It will be assumed that you died.”

“So when do I change?”

“Change?”

“When do I become like you? A Vampire.” Craig asked this impatiently almost sounding like a spoilt teen.

Oliver took a deep breath and answered him. “Tonight if you want, but I’d rather wait until tomorrow.”

Craig leaned on the desk close to the Vampire. “I want this Oliver. I want my freedom.”

“You’ll get what you want Craig.”

“Oliver, I’m telling you…”

Craig started to speak but Oliver held up his hand. “We’ll take my jet to Rome in the morning. By the time we get there you’ll be a different man. The old Craig will be gone forever. In the meantime, you need to see your children one last time.”

Laurel sat in the high school auditorium waiting for the play to start. A Midsummer’s Night Dream. Her son played Lysander and her daughter was playing Puck.

Craig had called earlier to tell her he was working late. He’d been sorry to miss the play but said he’d see it on closing night next weekend. She thought she was going to throw up. She pulled out her phone and listened to the message she’d received right after she’d seen Oliver.

A sing song girlish voice said “Laurel this is Trinity, Craig’s assistant. I wanted to let you know that I’ve been sleeping with your husband for about two years. He said I did all those nasty fetish things you wouldn’t do and I believed him. I really really loved him and would have done anything but he dumped me for Tara Hall. She’s like the VP of Marketing. They’ve been doing it since October so he was two timing on me too. Stupid puke. So when he says he is gone on business he’s really with her. I just thought you’d want to know because you seem like a nice lady.”

It was the fifth time she’d listened to it. Each time she’d hoped she’d heard it wrong but that wasn’t the case.

A text came in from Craig saying he had a change of plans and was on his way.

Concentrate. Don’t think about him. It isn’t true. He’ll be here any minute. Don’t cry.

The house lights went down and the play started.

Oliver Thomas stood on the side of the river and watched the emergency crews on the opposite shore drag out a sliver convertible, the headless body of the driver still strapped in the seat. Some unfortunate member of the police department would find sightless eyes attached to a severed head staring up at him from the floor of the passenger seat.

Witnesses said another car had forced him off the road. The convertible rolled and went into the water. It had been too dark to get any plate numbers or a good description of the other car.

Craig wanted to be free of his wife and children. A man should have what he wants after all.

Now Oliver would do it right. He’d wait a few months, he had time and he’d be there for Laurel and her children, like he should have been all along.

~ end

 

~Juliette aka Vampire Maman