Edmund stood in the great anteroom of his, no their London home. Amid the deep red plastered walls and mahogany furniture, he seemed to be part of the decoration. A statue of a naked young man, with a morose look on his face. Yet the statue could move, and the statue held an envelope in his hands. Edmund willed himself to move, to look at the envelope again. But the only written word upon it, his name, still had not changed. The letters were still in the same narrow-set, curling handwriting. With a snarl he tore the envelope to shreds, clenching the remains in his hand.
Upon passing their opulent drawing room Edmund could still see the sunlight fading on the horizon. He moved downstairs to their sleeping cellar, and found Katrina laying lazily in her coffin, the lid pushed to the side. Her eyes sparkled, deadly and endearing, at the sight of her lover.
"Good evening dearest, shall we bathe?" Katrina said, followed by a girlish giggle. But Edmund did not reply. Instead he sat down on the edge of the coffin, pursing his lips and staring hard at the floor. Katrina sprang up and put her hands on his marble shoulders, hard fingernails tracing the outline of his muscles just the way he liked it. But there still was no response. Katrina rested her head on his shoulder, whispering in his ear, lips grazing his ear as she did.
"My love, is something the matter? Are you hungry, perhaps?" She uttered those last words in a husky tone of voice, one of her new qualities as a huntress and seductress. But Edmund pulled away and stood up. The speed of his movement made Katrina look for support on the coffin's edge, and was greeted by an angry statue leering at her.
"There is something the matter indeed, Katrina" Edmund hissed ", and I highly doubt it you can spare the time to listen to it." With that he picked up a ruby red robe and marched back upstairs. Katrina's jaw dropped. She cringed at the sound of glass breaking upstairs. Edmund had never said a harsh word to her in all those years. For a moment she shrank back inside her coffin, feeling much like the little girl she was before she met him. Before he saved her life by making her undead. But that girl had died a long time ago. Despite not looking like it, she was a woman now, a strong woman for that matter. And no one could put her in place like a child, not even Edmund.
With a determined scowl she ascended the stone steps and strode towards the drawing room, straightening her nightgown. Edmund sat on a sofa, staring blankly in front of him, surrounded by smashed coffee tables and broken porcelain. Katrina tried not to flinch, but it was hard to see your loved ones in anguish. She walked up to him, crouched so she could look him in the eye.
" So, you decide to smash up everything we own like a stubborn toddler because you think of me as a child?" She rested a hand on his knee. " Equals for eternity, remember?" Edmund's eyes softened and focused upon her.
"I do, and I am sorry. But it is eternity that I worry about." With that he handed her the pieces of the letter. Katrina tried to make sense out of the ripped pieces of paper, but a single name made a lot of things clear.
"A letter from Messalina. But why? I thought you...you had been allowed to leave her." Katrina's spine seemed to freeze. Messalina was the one who had made Edmund a vampire and although she had always been kind to Edmund and had learned him a lot, she had always been something of a stern stepmother to him. And a ferocious killer to others. She was Edmund's mirror image in a way. Where Edmund loved mortals and relished in the thrill of seducing them, Messalina enjoyed to watch them suffer, to feel all of the wrath a vampire can incur. Edmund could not put up with this and told her he wanted to eke out unlife on his own.
So why this letter, and why now? She tossed the letter aside and crawled in Edmund's lap. He caressed Katrina's hair and smiled, but his face looked worried beyond anything Katrina had ever seen.
" There is something I have never told you. The only unwritten law of the vampires I have not told you, since I'd never think I have to." Katrina looked up, hands squeezing Edmund's flesh. Her grip tightened at what he told her.
"The relation between a fledgling vampire and its maker is sacrosanct. When the young one has learned enough, he can start to carve out his own niche in the night. But the one who made him can always call for his descendent to return and act as the pupil again. An unlife of servitude. The Beckoning." Edmund yelped, pushing Katrina's hand away. She drew back on the sofa, face frozen in horror as she put her hand to her lips, licking his blood off her nails. Edmund looked down at the wound and saw that it was already closing itself. Katrina was shivering. Blood pooled down her face.
"So you are going.....going to leave me?" There was no emotion in her voice. Her words were a dry statement. Edmund grabbed her hands, put them to his own face. Katrina blinked once, as if the sudden feeling of movement brought her back to her senses.
"Yes I am going. And you're coming with me. Rules be damned, I will not be shackled like some undying slave. And I will
not
desert you. Equals and lovers for eternity, remember?" Edmund forced a smile upon his face as Katrina nodded and buried her face in his chest, sobbing uncontrollably. He wrapped his arm around her, smelling last night's oils still in her hair.
"I will not let you be taken away from me. I...I will fight for you." Katrina's determination rang sharp and clear amidst the sobs. Reverently she kissed the place where she had hurt Edmund, her tongue playing upon the flawless skin. Then she felt his swelling sex press against her small breasts, Edmund's long and slender cock with his rich blue veins there for the taking. Without any hesitation she lifted her nightgown and threw it off, straddling Edmund. Katrina purred, the sheer thrill of two naked preternatural bodies sliding against each other still as intense as ever. Edmund kissed Katrina hard, his tongue as cool as a mountain spring in her mouth. She pressed her hips against his, and with a simple gesture of her fingers she was deep inside of her, the walls of her vagina shaped to envelop him perfectly. Edmund's muscles flexed as she gyrated her hips, back arched and looking down upon her troubled lover, who forgot his problems for a while.
A sheen of blood sweat covered both of them, Edmund moaning loudly, his hands resting lovingly on Katrina's buttocks, squeezing the supple flesh as she kept rising and falling onto his cock. Katrina had her eyes closed, swaying as she willed her body to move faster, seemingly melting around Edmund's hardness. She thrust her body down hard and dug her nails in Edmund's chest as she fell into the throes of a deep and all-encompassing orgasm. Her cunt muscles twitched and cramped up and as Katrina let out a crooning moan, Edmund pulled her body close to her and came inside of her. Blood for blood. Happy to be in each other's arms, they lay amidst the debris, frozen in their love, the restless beast of fear and anticipation running amok inside of their hearts.
You can have anything you want if you want it desperately enough. You must want it with an inner exuberance that erupts through the skin and joins the energy that created the world.
-Sarah Graham-
Fog covered the London streets. Even this metropolis quieted down at this hour. The police surely would have halted and interrogated the two strange figures who strode to the outskirts of the city with bold strides. Katrina was dressed in a dark purple dress, sleeveless and her ankles showing. She had fashioned it after the garments Greek women used to wear. Her hair was braided, the thick braid flapping after her as she walked fast. Edmund had donned a grey suit for a change, looking very much like a contemporary gentleman if not for his thick auburn hair that rested on his shoulders. The
click-clack
of his cane bounced off against the high walls of the factories they were approaching. More and more of these stinking juggernauts marred the London landscape where there had once been lush heaths and trees. This is where Messalina had set up shop, according to the address they had found on the scraps of paper. Edmund scowled at the sight of this place. Somehow it seemed to fit perfectly with Messalina's attitude towards people. Haphazardly built houses were clustered together, their façades already grimy from the factories' smoke and fumes. The people inside were all fast asleep, faces covered in filth and looking almost as pale and drawn as Katrina...and himself.
In the dim light of the moon he a crucifix hanging upon the wall of one of the hovels. The countenance of the Christ flashed brightly, yet He gave no hope to the poor people clustered in the cramped living room.
You have died for their sins, but where is their Saviour now?
But no everyone was asleep. Edmund broke free of his sombre musings and saw that Katrina stood some distance away from him, bathed in the scarce light coming from the factory. It was the place where Messalina now dwelt. Men, women, children...they all lumbered toward the factory doors, or away from it, tired faces gazing at the street, all bent backs and broken lives. Katrina seemed a purple-clad goddess, her arms slightly lifted, her gloved fingertips lightly touching people that come close enough. But as Edmund stepped closer he saw that she was none of the sort. Her cold gaze was fixed upon the factory, ears twitching slightly.
"I hear movement below ground. I suppose Messalina has dug herself in." She turned to face Edmund. "Do you think she will let us go, after you have told her you refuse the Beckoning?" Edmund looked glumly at the weaving machines clattering inside of the hall, the children crawling under them. The scent of spilled blood filled his nostrils, making him queasy.
What a waste, a sin to die so uselessly.
"I don't think she will let us walk away once she has heard the news," Edmund said "do you trust your powers enough by now to use them?" Katrina nodded, but was not sure. Over the years she had grown stronger. She loved walking the streets alone, punishing lechers and muggers who dare to bother her. Yes, she was strong. Edmund had told her of stranger things. Some legendary vampires he told, were able to fly or even change their shape into an animal. He had also told her that Messalina was far older than any vampire in the city. Vampires never reveal the full extent of their powers, but Edmund knew that Messalina was a fierce creature and a torturer.
"I'm ready to kill anyone who stands in our way, my love."
Not a soul looked up at them as they walked inside the huge hall. The entire place reeked of sweat and chemicals. Katrina took Edmund's hand and he lead her deftly to the far end of the factory. Katrina had not noticed, but small "M's" were left on machines, on the floor, even on some labourers. Edmund knew where he had to go. He halted suddenly, his mouth open in surprise, long canines springing out from his jaw. Next to a door decorated with a far larger sign, stood a small man. He was dressed immaculately: A black coat with a red trim, black suit cut in the latest fashion, red shirt underneath it. His hair was greying at the temples, and a few creases showed around his uncaring eyes. He smirked at the sight of his mistress' guests.
"Alaric," Edmund whispered. But he was sure he could hear him. Katrina stepped between the two. Somehow he felt wrong, no heartbeat. She wanted to protect Edmund, yet was tremendously curious as well. The first other vampire she had ever seen. But as this Alaric stepped closer she hurried back to Edmund's side. The man did not walk, he
hovered
