Fire Nectar 2 (2 page)

“
E
xtraordinary
, is it not?” Ludovico asked, eyes alight with encouragement.

“J'ai tellement soif,” whispered Joshua. Truer words had never been spoken for he had never felt so ravenously thirsty in all his life.

Ludovico Arborio di Breme threw back his head and laughed freely. His black locks–worn long on top and cut medium length on the sides and back–jogged with the tremors of his thick torso. He had a warm, friendly face with long sideburns that strengthened his jaw above square shoulders. His nose was Roman, like those of his Italian ancestors, and his eyes danced with mirth on more moments than not.

As he leaned back and crossed his right ankle over left knee, his pantaloons shifted as they were want to do, giving him need to adjust himself in his private region. He did so promptly as there were no ladies present to be offended by the crudeness of this action. Had there been, he would have waited for the moment when all eyes were elsewhere to make things right below, no matter how long that would have bound him in bent constriction. He was, after all, a gentleman. Satisfied at last with where his jewels lay, he tended to his silk waistcoat and found it to be pleasingly intact and rightly set on his broad chest. The cream colored cravat tied just so around his neck was in perfect form, as well. He was quite the handsome vampire; a bit on the short side like many men of Italy, but dashing just the same.

Comfortable again, Ludovico casually offered, speaking solely in Joshua’s native French, “Oui. The thirst will not always ache as it does for you now. It is excruciating in this early stage, most certainly, but later you will find it much less obtrusive. Your first night! I am unbelievably envious of you! Enjoy every moment!” He received only an uncomfortable nod in return from his fledgling. Joshua waited, unsure and eager to learn what would happen next but refusing to pry. A smile of approval spread into Ludovico’s eyes. He decided it was time, placed two fingers into his mouth and very loudly whistled a summons.

Joshua’s eyes darted to his maker’s lips. The whistle, unbelievably sharp to his newly turned ears, felt like an attack of sorts. He knew that it was not, and had not been meant to be so, but he wondered at the intensity of his senses…and how he would survive the night. He always heard the world in terms of sound, as all composers must, but now–due to the acuteness of his ever-growing vampyric abilities, with senses heightened to the extreme–everything seemed like music playing just for him. Rhythm and melody abounded in all things, from the horses’ clip clop, clip clop clip on the Paris streets outside the window to the tic toc, tic toc tic of the Rococo clock on the wall. Everything but that whistle.

With his eyes alone he looked to the door, Joshua wondered who would answer the call. They were in Le Chabanais, one of Paris’s best-reputed brothels, one of the many maisons de tolerance that had become all the rage thanks to Napoleon’s Reglementation–the registration and bi-weekly health inspection that had become mandatory, eight years previous, in 1804. Joshua, a normally shy and obsessive artist, was not one to frequent these establishments and, had he been more himself, he would have marveled at the unexpected cleanliness and grandeur. Yet he was not himself. Not the self he used to be. His hair was still sandy brown and his eyes still almond-colored, yes – though now of a lighter hue. And his cheekbones were still high, his face still angular, his lips still full. His body resembled the one he had, only the lines of its muscles had deepened, and the strength he felt was beyond his imagining. He was no longer human. Only two hours previous, Ludovico had offered The Gift and Joshua had leapt at it. Forever vampire. Forever friend.

Staring at the door, Joshua smelled her before he heard the knock. A moment later it cracked open, inviting in a warm candlelight glow from the hallway outside. Through that light stepped a lovely whore of twenty-seven wearing only lacey undergarments and no shoes. Her black hair, freed from bondage, hung in long waves down to her waist. Joshua’s gaze whipped toward her neck as he smelled her skin, her blood, her sex.

Ludovico laughed at the young vampire’s reaction. “Just so! The desperation and impossibility of your thirst will subside, I promise you. Ah…but how, you’re wondering? I can see the question tucked close behind your agony. With discipline and time, that is how. With discipline and time. But now… a lesson.”

At this he bade the woman come with a wave of his thick hand. Glittering in the lamplight on one of his extended fingers sat an enormous ruby ring. The stone dazzled their visitor. Upon sight of it she smiled widely and obeyed willingly, taking her place to stand next to where he sat on the cushion’s edge. Ludovico’s deep-set brown eyes remained locked with the experienced maiden’s. The two gazed upon each other hungrily; their lust for each other made all the more palpable by his brazen fingers openly toying with the secret region between her legs. She bent to his touch, swaying slightly with each sweet, gliding stroke. “Pay close mind. This is how we keep our secret safe.” Ludovico saw the expression change on Joshua’s face. “Pardonnez moi. Not this. This is how we give our women pleasure. How we keep our secret safe is another matter. But I am distracted.” He smiled at the whore, then slowly looked back to Joshua with all the seriousness of a wise professor. “First, you must learn restraint. This is a trait I believe you naturally hold in your possession, mon ami. I’ve born its witness in the music that flows from your mind to the page, and in the manner with which you conduct yourself presently. It must be exceedingly difficult to stay so far away from such… beauty.”

Stricken, mastered, and helpless, Joshua watched. His desire for the woman was obscene in an entirely new way. The greater surprise to him was the jealousy he felt dangerously building inside his breast. He wanted her and he wanted her now. His thirst hissed to him the conviction that no man should come between him and the blood she had racing through her delicate veins. It called to him. He must have it! Even her eyes sought his as his maker’s touch aroused her. He could see that she wanted him and him alone. Or was that the thirst lying to him? Had he been another man, he might race forward and take what he wanted because for the first time in his life he thought of fighting a man, of killing him. But this man could not be killed. How could he best him? How could he swipe the woman from his hands and get away quickly enough before he was overtaken?

What insanity is this, he screamed silently in the hell of his own mind.

He is a friend, this man! Control yourself at once!

No! Take her! She is yours!

No! Stay your hand!

Ludovico watched Joshua carefully, though you might not have known it from his casual expression; he saw the battle rage in his fledgling and he remembered the pain although it was a very distant memory. To witness it again was a bit entertaining. Not only that, but that Joshua had not attacked him yet was a testament to Joshua’s character.

He removed his teasing hand, now moist, and with his eyes on Joshua’s tortured ones, he licked his fingers one by one. Joshua nearly leapt through the air. Just as he made to do so, Ludovico pulled the whore to his lap in a motion quicker than Joshua could perceive. Ludovico ignored her pained gasp as he sunk his teeth into her neck, causing Joshua to step back, aghast by the swiftness and unbelievable skill.

The woman’s body rose and arched against the pain. Joshua had never seen such a thing. It was as mortifying to him as it was beguiling. Her arms reached up and Joshua was prepared to watch a fight. But none came. He moaned as he saw her instead cradle Ludovico’s head, pressing his teeth more deeply into her soft flesh. A quick warning glance from his maker, mouth still buried deep, made Joshua freeze where he stood, just as he was about to lunge for them, to try to join and do whatever he could to not starve as he was starving now. But Ludovico had seemingly read his mind, as if he had known. Because he had known. He’d known exactly.

Joshua gnashed his teeth, now sharp and murderous, drawing out his own altered blood. He backed away near the draped-shut window on the far side of the room as Ludovico aroused her as he sucked, his arms wrapped protectively around her body while he rubbed it, making her moan and forget the pain by increasing her pleasure. He was tender and brutal all at once, with a sensual skillful caress that belied his love and appreciation for the female form. Joshua was enthralled.

After what seemed like years rather than mere seconds, Ludovico raised his glance once more to meet his audience and ever so slowly removed his fangs from the silent, lifeless figure.

“She is dead! How will you explain this?” Joshua demanded in a quiet hiss, gasping from the urgency that tore at his veins. He was as angry that she was dead as he was that he didn’t do it, and he felt as though he must be going mad.

But Ludovico held up a finger. “Watch closely,” he needlessly whispered. Joshua could do nothing but watch. If a stampede of Napoleon’s Grand Armée had barged through at that very moment, his focus would not have faltered.

Ludovico bit into his own wrist and lifted it up, holding his fresh wound over the holes punctured into her neck. To Joshua’s shock, the holes did not merely vanish to be replaced by freshly perfect unmarked skin, but also the blood itself–his blood and hers mixed with it–disappeared. Joshua’s eyes widened. Amazed, he took a step forward out of human habit and jumped almost to the ceiling as the maiden’s eyes shot open, her pretty mouth gasping for the right to live, coughing and sputtering, her face pale.

The jump produced a loud guffaw from his maker. “Watch yourself, now. You can leave a hole in the ceiling if you’re not careful,” he said on a dwindling laugh.

“She’s alive!” Joshua whispered, incredulous.

“Very much so, indeed.” Ludovico looked to the girl and in a voice filled with confidence and humor, ordered her firmly, “Go fetch yourself a steak. You’ll need all the iron your tiny frame can hold. And remember–tsh tsh tsh–say nothing or I’ll not pay you as handsomely as I did the last time we met. If you can hold your tongue, my dear, I’ll send you this.” He indicated the ruby ring with a tempting wave of his hand. She nodded eagerly with a smile so saucy that he had to tweak her nipple through her gown. She giggled off his lap, receiving a hearty slap on her ass. This sent her into peals of fresh laughter as she closed the door behind her, the dainty tinkling of mirth growing fainter with distance. “I have a fondness for that one,” Ludovico sighed, turning back to Joshua. With a raise of an eyebrow he asked, “What’s this face I see glaring at me! Ah! You wonder why I did not offer you a taste.”

Joshua could not bring himself to answer such a question, just as he’d not been able to bring himself to ask it.

The elder vampire’s observational skills were keen and he lifted his finger to point at his student. “You have a disciplined nature, Joshua. I could see it in your concertos and in your six string quartets. In fact, in every piece you have ever sent me! How long have you graced this earth, mon ami?”

Joshua relaxed a bit, glad for the turn to a more normal subject. “I’ve just hit my twenty-seventh year. Et vous?”

“Now you are on year one, born again, and what a year it will be! Et moi? It has been three hundred sixty-two joyous years since my rebirth. I was twenty-six when the gift was given.” A thought came to him then and his handsome brows drew together before he corrected, with some surprise, “My apologies! I am mistaken. Three hundred and sixty four…not two! It’s difficult to keep the years together in one’s mind as time marches on. So many adventures.” He looked thoughtfully into the past, lost in it for a moment. “Did you know I was the Minister of Interior to Napoleon himself?” Joshua shook his head, no. He knew very little of politics. A nostalgic smile pulled at Ludovico’s lips, as he went on, “Oui, from 1805 to 1809. In Italy, the only country I would care to serve.” He looked to his pantaloons and smoothed out a wrinkle. “Hard to remove loyalty to one’s country once it has been firmly set in one’s heart. But I did not remain in servitude long. I found a way to extract myself once it became clear the little genius had rounded the bend. ‘Twas a sad day, truth be told. I rather enjoyed the position. Gave me something to do with all this time! But I cannot abide standing behind a man or cause when I’ve lost belief in him or it. I do love his maisons de tolerance, however, and maybe to a fault. Registering prostitutes and regulating brothels? As I said, the little madman is a genius!”

“You’re not so tall of stature yourself, Ludovico,” Joshua whipped at him from behind a playfully raised eyebrow.

Ludovico laughed loudly. “Oh, so your sense of humor has returned. Good! For all your hand-clenching and statue-mimicking, indeed, I was beginning to worry!”

Joshua grinned as he walked to join his friend, sitting in the high-backed chair across from him. “Your French is impeccable.”

“Ah, time and geographical relevance assisted me on that front. I should know more languages but regretfully I speak a mere four: Latin, French, English, and the best of all of them, Italian.” He kissed his fingers, throwing up his hand in celebration. “I am not a scholar, nor an artist like you, Joshua. I’m a lover. An adventurer. A chaser of all things that excite me.” He leaned back and kicked his Hessian boots onto the table betwixt them. “I prefer to pass my time by enjoying life to the fullest of my capabilities.”

“It is a marvelous choice,” Joshua admitted.

“I find it stunning how reserved you are, Joshua. Here it is your very first day and you possess all the composure of one who has mastered the thirst for a century. Fascinating. I believe I chose you well.”

Joshua sat a bit straighter in his chair. He was not as wonderfully loud and boisterous as the male sitting opposite him, but Joshua had never claimed or aspired to be such. In truth, he admired Ludovico’s gregarious nature, found him engaging to converse with and listen to. He could not imagine himself to be as…free. He wished that they had met earlier, though he would not allow himself to say so. Nor did he confess that his thirst still had him in its clutches much more than he was letting on.