Sylvie

Unsure if she was betraying Sylvie, Veronica hesitated. “Sorry, I am not sure that I should say everything.”  She sat up, keeping the sheet tightly around her fair-sized chest. “There was a time in the last few months that I told her that I loved her.”  Veronica sighed, “She told me she loved me as well, just not in the way I wanted or needed.”  Absentmindedly twirling her own brown hair, Veronica stared blankly at one of the tan walls in the bedroom. “My hair isn’t copper-strawberry blonde.”  

Scooting closer to Veronica, Alan waved his hand in front of her luscious brown eyes. “So she’s looking for someone specific based on this vision.”  Alan guessed and kissed Veronica’s ear. “That must be tough.”

Coming back to her reality and blinking out of her temporary daze, Veronica offered Alan a smile before crawling into his lap. “It was.”  She kissed the man on both cheeks lightly. “I still have feelings for her, but they have changed.”  Veronica poked Alan’s nose gently. “Lucky for you.”  Waiting until the older gentleman vampire began to grin once more, Veronica clasped his fingers with her own. “So tell me more about yourself.  How did you end up..”  Knowing that some stories of vampiric change were very horrific, Veronica meekly finished her question. “..a vampire, if you don’t mind sharing.”

“Sure.  How about you tell me why you aren’t yet a vampire?”  Alan countered and deftly wrapped Veronica’s legs around his waist, and relished the sexual musk coming from her core. “We have all day to lounge around here.”

Suddenly concerned for Alan, Veronica perked up. “Do we have to sun-proof anything?”

“No, my dear.  We are quite safe.  Unlike your mistress, I have a couple thralls that help me out.”  Alan smiled and slid his hands up and down Veronica’s thighs. “So who goes…”

Interrupting the start of the conversation, Veronica half grimaced. “Thanks to Vivienne, we don’t call them thralls, but wards.”  She poked at Alan, “They are more friends and companions than slaves, right?”

Alan shrugged, “I don’t think about it.”  He paused after he saw the sour look on Veronica’s face. “It’s not personal, I mean they serve willingly and I have always called them thralls.”  Sensing that he wasn’t about to win this conversation, Alan nodded and smiled. “Very well, they are now wards and I will be nicer.” He winked, “How’s that?”

Locking her feet around Alan, Veronica nodded in approval. “So, you go first.  Tell me how you turned into this fine specimen of vampirism.”

“There isn’t really much to tell you.”  Alan traced his finger along the smooth curve of Veronica’s neck. “You probably already know that a hundred years ago, things socially were drastically different.”  He stated coolly and watched Veronica nod in agreement. “I was with my girlfriend at the time.”  He paused and closed his eyes, “Sometimes the fog is still around my memory, give me a second.”  A few seconds later, Alan patted Veronica on her bare thigh lightly. “Got it, her name was Julia Abbot.  Had the prettiest hazel eyes, almost like a smoky quartz.”  He sighed. “I had just dropped her off at home from a lovely evening at the movies.”  Gleaning a bit of memory, Alan laughed. “Thank you!  I remember the movie.  Scaramouche, oh wow.  I guess it has been a long time.”

Laying her head on the vampire's bare chest, Veronica traced little circles around his well-proportioned tummy. “I don’t know much other than the word, and that is from the song by Queen.”  Gazing up, Veronica pleaded with her eyes for Alan to keep talking.

“Oh, right.”  Alan affirmed, “I suppose that is the reference.”  Stunned into silence by the innocent look peering up at him from Veronica, It took Alan nearly a minute to keep talking. “Unlike you and I right now, my dear, I didn’t even ask for a hug.  I made sure to shake her father’s hand and headed home.”  

“A proper gentleman, like I suspected.” Veronica kissed Alan’s chest lightly.

Unable to control himself Alan leaned over to kiss the lovely woman in his lap, when he was blocked by a thin hand. “T..thank you.  That…was my..my..”  When a single finger slipped over his lips, Alan humbly grinned at Veronica. “You know about that too?”  Relieved that he didn’t have to explain the dark side that infected all vampires, Alan focused enough to keep the story going. “The finer details still linger in the back of what I can remember, but I know I took a little break and sat down on a stone bench while on my way home.”  Shaking his head, Alan raised one eyebrow. “Maybe if I’d owned a car, then Viktoria wouldn’t have bothered with me.”

“Your maker was a woman?”  Veronica softly inquired.

Overcome with a range of tingly itches along his neck, Alan affirmed, “A fairly big vampiress, yes.  With a very thick Russian accent to match.”  Bringing the full image of his creator forward sent a chill down Alan’s spine even though he was using blood to keep Veronica warm. “I still have the nightmare to this day.  My change was not the least bit good.  I didn’t have a choice.”

“I’ve asked Sylvie and she says much the same thing.”  Veronica paused in order to rub the tension from Alan’s neck and shoulders. “No need to be nervous.”  She coaxed Alan out of his little stasis. “If you can’t talk about it, I get it.”  Veronica tightened her legs, “Alan, sweet.  Look into my eyes and feel me around you.”  Pulling herself away from Alan’s chest, Veronica focused on the concerned look in his eyes. 

Struggling with the shade within him, Alan refreshed his senses with Veronica’s scent and calm voice.  Light seemed to brighten within his mind when he recalled that there was a little more than love between them.  Armed with his partner's words, Alan pushed the taunting darkness from the front of his mind then hugged Veronica tight as he dared. “I think I have it, thank you though.”  Pausing for a quick breath, Alan kissed Veronica on her cheek. “Sometimes the thing just isn’t easy to control.”

“The dark?”  Veronica slowly added as she ran her hands over his chest. “My mistress says hers doesn’t speak, but will alter her visions.”

Grinning widely, Alan held up his hands. “You are inquisitive, aren’t you?  I can’t keep you on one topic.”  Spotting the excitement in her eyes, Alan decided against trying to use his charm in order to keep the conversation in one direction. “Let me finish with Viktoria.”

Resuming his intimate and warm hug, Alan’s voice lowered enough to create the sensation of dread. “Let me begin with the fact Viktoria was not a lovely lady in the slightest.  If there are any tales of a vampire that was gross in every way, she was the unliving embodiment of that legend.”  Alan shivered, “Stringy hair that somehow seemed to radiate vomit, shaded pantone.  It hung down over her face and most of the way down her back.”  Taking a moment so Veronica could snuggle closer, Alan restarted once she stopped moving. “She glared at every one of her servants through those strands of hair.  Eyes that had no affection within them.”  Alan stopped to gather his thoughts, “Wells of yellow, that reminded me of alligators or snakes.  Rimmed with blood red of her kills.”

“Sounds lovely so far.”  Veronica shivered.

Using a bit more blood, Alan warmed himself a little more. “There, that should be more comfortable for you.”  He paused, “I haven’t pulled too much blood from you have I?”  When Veronica shook her head Alan smiled, “Good.  I don’t know your limit yet.  I’ll figure it out.”  He winked and added more to his little story. “When it came to her skin, I can only say it was as gray and lifeless as a shark.”  He curled his nose with the thought, “I think she even radiated a slime from it.  She made the idea of a twisted and ugly witch from fairy-tales appear lovely.”

“It is just strange to hear about vampires that aren’t in some way beautiful, I mean even Drake had a handsome presence when he wanted to.”  Veronica wiggled her nose, “Though most of the time he stayed a disgusting ass for his image.”

Briefly chuckling at his partner, Alan nodded and kissed the top of Veronica’s lovely brown hair. “I remember Drake.  Oddly, there are many of us left that think The Raven did us a favor there.”  Thinking about his creator once more, Alan resumed his account of Viktoria. “Now that you have a more clear picture of this blood-witch, understand that when she spoke it sounded just as vile as she looked.  All of her consonants had a thick accent and were over-enunciated.”  He paused, “I cannot stress enough that there was nothing redeeming about her.”