i slip through the shadows of a dark alley, my skin is flush from the latest hunt. it feels like i am more aware than i ever have been - the child was young and strong, with a soul of purity hard to find in the rome of today, those over six or so are usually aready tainted by a life of prostituiton and abuse.
i lick my fingers, savouring the last essence of her as i relive the kill. so easy, a simple yet tireless game. the beggar child, she appeared naught but huge blue eyes and flaxen hair, was easily lured by whispers of sweets and toys and, of course, by the Powers, the violet eyes so few can resist.
when i have her i hold her tight to me. she whimpers, knowing something is wrong, i sing gently to her, tell her to be brave.
my sharp incisors pierce the delicate skin of her bare throat, the blood spurts and i greedily slake my thirst but this is just a formality, a delicious but crude substance that enables the shell i inhabit to be sustained, it isnt what i am here for. at the crucial moment her soul breaks free - the change is palpable - no longer is the girl alive or whole, now she is nothing but a corpse. her spirit wavers for a moment before i leap upon it and inhale her, throwing the body aside as i do so.
my body is truly alive though only for a few preecious moments. my long-dead heart pounds painfully in my breast, i breathe in stuttering gasps and my limbs stiffen. in that instant i AM the girl, i know everything about her, her hard, short life surviving on handouts from the church and the few coppers her mother could earn selling her body in the back rooms of wine shops and tavernas, the beatings she recieved from disgruntled clients who were refused the chance to sample the little girls body.
and then she is gone. forever. her purity no longer imbues my body with human traits but a few vestiges of her remain, clinging to me, just enough for me to appear normal by candlelight, a pale, dark haired young woman, taller than is fashionable at present and with an unusually confident posture but otherwise unremarkable.
so i leave the shadows, straighten my gold embroidered stola and ensure that no blood stains me. i hold my head high and walk purposefully into the bustle of the streets, acting as though its perfectly normal for a lady of my obvious social standing to be wandering around a slum near midnight. immediately i spy my friends. a group of my children wait patiently for me, i can tell from here that they have fed well in preparation for tonight.
i am the last to arrive, everyone else is ready, their excitment hums through the air around us, people, the poor mostly who matter to no one, the invisible people, the ignored and undesirable, but also some of the more well-to-do “gentlemen” of the city, gaze curiously as they pass this group of lithe young adults.
a few of the younger ones croon quietly as i approach, always pleased to see me, lilith and maeniel encircle me and stroke my hair, these two were twins in life, only made vampiric a few decades ago, the newest members of our family. soon to become adults, mentors to regeane.
wordlessly we leave the slums and head for the country, as i walk i release the wolf in me, all of us naturally contain beasts within us but in our . . . condition . . . we are able to release the beasts, become them. around rome we choose the wolf, in honour of Lupa, the traditional protectress of the city, we are tolerated, even revered in this form.
as we head for the Campagna i change, i begin to run and hear my children follow suit, we leave our grand clothes and jewels behind ad bound across the grass free and unfettered.
after an hour or so we reach our destinaton. a few wolves prowl the vicinity of our home. as i approach the courtyard i turn back, feel the thick silver pelt melt back into smooth flesh.
i go straight to the reception hall, in the centre of a massive ceremonial circle, made of tiny mosaic tiles and activated by blood, regeane, the vessel, lies among a bed of herbs and crystals. her body has been lying in wait for three nights now.
completely sealed off from outside distractions regeane has been under going the changes she has been expecting her whole life now. occasionally, only once or twice every twenty or so years i encounter a human who captivates me, they are usually of a poor background, looking for a way out. they are always strong, beautiful and intelligent. when i meet one of these individuals i take them into my care and teach them the Ways. i show them what it means to be one of us, bring them up to love and understand our kind. at their coming of age they decide, to join us or go free with our blessing, no child has ever left me.
then come the rituals. first the adolescent is blessed and utterly purified. then killed, but not a normal kill, goddess no. the Blessed (as they are now known) are first sealed up, using ancient rites all orifices from which the soul can escape (excepting the mouth) are sealed, then the blood is drained very slowly from them. at the point of death each member of the family relinquishes a few drops of their own precious, immortal blood to the Blessed. this reinforces the relationship between the family, increases their telepathy and hones their sensory skills i believe. when my blood enters the Blessed the mouth itself is sealed up and then we wait for the goddess herself to imbue them with all the Powers. this takes three days and three nights always and we all knew regeane would rise again in just a few minutes and we would welcome her.
vampires can be made in the “traditional” way too but these evil creatures are not true Lamia, they are not Blessed and their souls have escaped never to return. they are damned, little better than beasts. only once in history have Lamia made vampires, a coven leader like myself made an army to defeat a rival coven for petty personal reasons, the resulting bloodbath was horrifc and since then all Lamia have vowed never to repeat the mistake.
at this point all of my children have gethered with me at the circles edge. they know what is expected of them and all move to their places, the twins flanking me, facing regeane’s feet so we are the first she sees when she awakens. as we stand and wait i allow myself a slight fission of excitment.
suddenly the air changes, becomes charged. the body in the circle begins to glow with an etheral silver luminescence. as this happens faint etchings of pale pink can be seen redrawing themselves onto her blank face as her features return.
the body begins to move and i expect her to sit up or stand if she is able. but instead she rises vertically, still reclining then suddenly flips to an upright position. i am dsturbed but pleased, she is obviously going to be powerful. her features are not yet fully formed but she forces her mouth open, the skin still slightly webbed, lilith grabs my hand and squeezes hard.
regeanes glowing grows more intense illuminating the circle. i can see all of my children in detail, their skin again waxen and smooth, like polished marble.
her eyes snap open and i am almost blinded by their intensity, a deep violet so like my own . . .
(to be continued)