Chapter 14: Felicia
He watched her sleep from the balcony doors. He'd never meant for things to go so far. Constantine knew better than anyone the reason Raven had turned her away so ruthlessly -- it was for her own good. Their world was not safe for humans anymore, and it certainly wasn't safe for vampires.
And yet there she laid somewhere between the two realms. A deep primal hunger had been awakened and he knew instinctively that she would not be complete, not be satisfied until she'd finally crossed over to their side.
He could have easily mastered her, and had this been a mere month ago, likely would have. That she longed for Raven would have been icing on the cake -- an additional feather in his cap. He'd turned far more people than Raven, and with each one his powers grew stronger -- his immortality more secure.
But even he knew that didn't matter anymore. He understood that the Creature was far more powerful than he could ever hope to be as he still clung to the last remnants of his humanity.
Constantine turned to face the night sky. That was what tortured him most. He knew that was where his blood lust would take him.
Not unlike any other type of junkie, his addiction to human blood would ultimately lead to his destruction. Eventually his good looks would give way to the desolation of his skin and bones, his hair would thin and gray, his lips would disappear against fangs that would never stop growing. His muscle would deteriorate and even his treasured manhood would erode away.
Then there would be no erections, no sex, no orgasms -- and worse than that, no seduction.
He'd be a monster always searching for his next meal in the form of helpless humans who, while willing to be seduced by a sexy vampire, would fight against and learn to destroy the animal they all threatened to become.
That's when the hunters would come. And merciless they would, and should, be.
He sighed as he stepped out into the night air. The days of pitchforks and mobs of angry villagers had long since given way to seedy parlors and willing donors who usually were content to get their rocks off even if it meant spilling some blood along the way. The need for hunters eventually dimmed, and vampires were able to live a somewhat peaceful existence in every city and every town in the world.
They were able to live the best of both worlds -- to hunt without the kill and therefore be tolerated by a general public that was mostly satisfied to ignore their existence entirely.
But there were those, like Constantine, who spread the disease unapologetically. Who lived their life, such as it was, on the edge -- constantly walking the line between danger and safety. He was the adrenaline junkie of the vampire world, and humans were his extreme sport. With each conquest it was always a shot off a cliff on a bungee rope he never knew would hold his weight. If they could resist him, he'd allow them to live.
The challenge, then, was to make them beg him to crash into the ground and take them with him.
And more often than not, they would willingly give over to the other side. Such was his power.
He thought back to Abi as she screamed for him in the throes of a passion she'd never before experienced, wanting nothing more than to surrender to him in every way possible. He could have had her, but the bungee ripped him back and saved her life.
For now.
He leaped up on the railing in a flash, and then off into the night he took flight. He cut through the air like a bullet, the wind rushing against his face and through his hair. He could never give this up, he thought to himself as he rocketed through the sky. He never wanted to lose his youth, his beauty, his sex appeal or his seductive prowess.
But Constantine knew better than anyone that he'd forget the freedom and the excitement the minute human blood spilled into his mouth, and he felt it transform in his saliva -- defenseless against the plague of vampirism as it sought to destroy anything pure and mortal.
He even felt himself stir at the thought. There was no drug more potent or no high more intense than that last pure drop of blood that turned from water to wine in his mouth.
He shook it off as he barreled through the night toward the one person who could ease his troubled mind and restore his sense of balance. If vampires had AA she'd be his sponsor, and he needed her now more than ever.
He accelerated through the night and headed from the dark recesses of Louisiana to the bright lights of New York City, a city he loved like no other.
There he could walk the streets and no one would bat an eye, even if his fangs were in plain sight. He did some time on Broadway, living out his own dreams of a rock star, and that was where he met Felicia von Hart for the first time.
A tall blond beauty with dark eyes and a sparkling smile, he thought for sure she'd be a fun conquest, but he had no idea that she was a vampire mistress herself -- and one who would teach him way more than he ever thought he'd learn.
She had a good heart for a predator. She rarely ever turned anyone, and he attributed her kindness to that. She was still more human than monster, and it showed in the way she treated her servants and her lovers (who were usually one in the same).
Their tryst lasted for the duration of their musical's run, and by the end they both were itching to move on. She to another vampire, and he to a host of human groupies who were only too happy to welcome him into their beds even if it meant they'd never see morning as a mortal again.
Some, especially so.
She had gently warned him the consequences of his actions, but he simply kissed her and smiled. Like every other addict in the world, he had it under control.
Even though Abi still lived, Constantine was no longer sure the monkey on his back was at his mercy rather than the other way around.
He needed Felicia.
Her arms, her bed, her kind and loving heart.
