We were the remaining two, the only ones to survive of our ancestry. Hundreds of years had passed, generations long gone, too many to remember though I swore each day in my dreams they haunted me. Some innocent, others like the previous night perhaps deserving of their fate but who was I to judge. There were days I cursed by sister, her illicit affair with the stranger from afar, his words mesmerizing her as he bestowed upon her the "gift" and in return she had crept to my bed. I had seen it, the madness in her eyes, the marks upon her neck but I was like an adolescent against the adult, her strength, her power coursing through her blood as she took away not only my childhood but my life.
I walked into the library, the heavy velvet curtains pulled, no light to invade this space, to think of such even hurts but not as badly as my heart which felt such cravings, such desires last night as I looked at the beauty named Gabrielle, her body so inviting, her breasts full, ripe with the thought of pleasure. Pouring myself a brandy, I downed the amber liquid, the fire burning quickly inside of me only to be soured by the sound of, "Dear brother, once again you have brought shame upon this family with your pitiful, misguided actions of last evening." Picking up the decanter, I filled my glass again, helpless to see my fingers tremble, some of the contents spill onto the carpet. "Perhaps I should have intervened, she would have been pure nectar, don't you think?"
Turning, my eyes growing dark I saw her, the woman who stood before me dressed in her perpetual look of youth, her body desired by any man who saw her, each of them simply a means to an ends for her. She was "pure" and her need greater than I, a "mixed breed" as she so aptly put it. Tonight she wore the guise of a common streetwalker, her hair and makeup outrageous, her body almost spilling out from behind what little clothing she wore. I knew on these nights she could be her most vicious, her actions toward those who would desire to use a woman's body for a pretty price savage to put it mildly.
"Well brother?"
I drained the remnants of my glass before hurling it, inches from her head and as it shattered against the bricks she moved not an inch. The smile on her face, the look of pure evil drawing my own anger as I walked toward her, my words curt, my voice a barely constrained scream. "I WOULD ADVISE YOU TO KEEP YOUR DISTANCE OR YOU WILL PAY FOR YOUR ACTIONS ISABELLA."
Her laughter rang out, though her smile did not find her eyes as I watched them begin to glow a fiery red as she glibly remarked, "And I would advise you to be careful dear Jonathan, I keep you around on a whim, you were not that good the first time and you certainly have not mellowed with age." The words and her laughter continued to resound in my ears long after she had made her exit and when I was alone I allowed my rage to overwhelm me, the sound of my anger a chilling howl, more animal than man.
I don't know how long it took for me to reclaim my own sense, my own purpose. My sister had always known how to enrage me, to bring out the worst, whether it is in hopes of pain or pleasure, playing with my mind like a virtuoso might a Stradivarius. Finally I was able to look in the mirror, to see the face of the human being, his eyes blues, his hair long, the color of chestnuts, not the most handsome of fellows but not repulsive either. A simple man whose life was complicated, a man who desired that which he knew he could never have, the love of another. It was the paradox, the cross I bore and though I would find myself once again walking the streets in vain this night, I still clung to a thread of hope which even I knew was as much an illusion as the promise of the women who called out from the darkness.
Moving silently, my gaze downward, not caring to look others directly in the eyes for fear they would immediately see the animal which lurked within I tried to ignore the propositions, the words of promise, of things done for the turn of a coin until finally I was past. Looking ahead, I saw a sign, a club which I had frequented only once in the past, having been careful to not allow myself the luxury of being remembered but as I stepped towards the entrance I heard something from down the alleyway. The sound was muffled, a voice tinged with fear. For a moment I almost walked past, an argument, a disagreement between lovers but as I reached out to take the doorknob in hand I heard a short scream and then the sound of a hand striking flesh.
Turning, my movements quick, my presence unnoticed I saw even in the dim light the figure sprawled on the ground, the hulking figure standing over her. His hand held some sort of weapon, a blade which glinted against the streetlight from afar and as I walked toward him I stepped on a bit of broken glass, the sound betraying my presence. Looking up, he turned snarling, "Hey asshole, I'd advise you to just keep walking if you know what's good for you."
I paid his words little heed, simply walking to where the woman lay, the bruise which would soon arise over her right eye already swelling. "Are you alright m'lady?"
I felt his hand reach out, grabbing my shoulder and when I turned I saw the knife come slashing down. I lifted up my arm, to deflect the blow and was rewarded with a slash which cut through my shirt, blood spilling from the wound as I looked at him, my eyes, my emotions at the sight of the scarlet seed providing me with the impetus toward my changing.
I could see the look in his eyes, changing swiftly from anger, then questioning and finally the fear which reflected back into mine. The talons which had begun to evolve from my clenched fists, their sharpness putting the pitiful excuse he carried for a weapon to shame. My smile now showed fangs as sharp as the claws which adorned my hands, as I prepared to unleash my fury upon him when I heard a soft moan behind me, the figure laying in the darkness trying to stand, losing her balance and falling hard to the cement. It was the sight of her, so vulnerable which cooled the blood in my veins, offering the man a chance to run from the alley, his footsteps echoing into the night.
Standing there, my chest heaving with my harsh breathing I focused, fighting back the urge until I felt it safe to step from the shelter of the night, moving quickly to her side. I saw her recoil, fearing yet another attacker but I tried to force a smile saying, "It's alright, he's gone, please let me help you." Her hand shook, reaching up and as I pulled her gently to her feet I saw her face more clearly, her eyes were brown, a beautiful color even bearing the pain that shone from them. Her hair was long, straight, the color not quite right, the look a bit askew though I knew not why. It was her smile though, even during such difficult times which struck me, her look of kindness for a stranger which warmed my heart.
"Thank you kind sir, you are my hero."
I shook my head, my heart dark, my soul burdened to hear of such. "I fear not m'lady, simply another who happened to pass this way and could not."
My words were quickly brought to a halt, her hand reaching to take my arm, her eyes wide as she said, "You're hurt, he cut you, that son of a bitch." To hear such words from a mouth which seemed to promise a kiss more than such took my aback as she took my hand saying, "Come on, I live close and we need to take a good look at that."
Once again I tried to shake my head in protest but when she looked at me her expression was of one who would take no such talk and with a sigh the two of us walked out of the alley and into the night, our hands entwined and little did I know our lives as well.
