Fire Nectar (12 page)

 
“
Shh
…” he said, pulling up her dress.
 
She wasn’t wearing panties – what was
the need? He bent down and brought his mouth between her legs and kissed her
there. She moaned. The sensation was so sweet. She didn’t stop him. The feeling
was too much. She relaxed against his mouth, letting him explore her, tease
her, make her moist with his saliva, which was more than enough to cover her
“nervousness” as she’d whispered to him.
 
He bit her lightly, sending a shock through her body.
 
Her back arched as he kissed her.
 
He climbed onto the bar above her, and
reaching down, freed himself from his pants.

There was a pause, so she looked to see what he was
doing. He had a condom in his hands and was about to put it on.
 
She held his hand and stopped him,
saying, “You don’t have to worry. Don’t go
all sad
on
me. I can’t have children.” He raised his eyebrows.
 
“No, it’s not what you think.
 
It’s not a big deal. I just… I’ll
explain later.
 
Look into my eyes
and know that I am not lying to you.” He searched her eyes.
 
She met his directly and he nodded,
believing her.

Above her now, he held her eyes. She could feel his
erection against her thigh and she reached to touch it. He was very long and
perfect and he moaned under her caress. His arm reached around her hips. He
pulled her body downward a bit, positioning her just beneath him, her legs
around his waist. He was fully engorged and felt so smooth and beautiful.
 
She let go and nodded to him.
  

Catching his breath, he pressed himself inside her, the
wetness of his saliva providing a deliciously slippery path. She moaned and her
head fell back, her neck exposed to him. He nibbled on it and pushed deeper
into her. They rocked back and forth together and he caught her mouth in his
and kissed her hungrily.

 
“I love how
your body heats up like this.
 
You’re so hot right now, I mean, physically hot,” he whispered into her
ear. “There’s something about you. I don’t know what it is, but I can’t stop
thinking about you.
About this.
It’s like I want to
own you.”

 
“I feel it,
too. I want to bite you so badly I can hardly stand it,” she whispered back, her
voice hoarse, her breath coming quickly.

 
“Only if I
can bite you back,” he teased, and she looked at him and puzzled, laughed. He
couldn’t know what she had meant, and that was okay. She kissed him harder as
he throbbed inside of her body. But her instincts were taking over.
 
All she could think was that she wanted
to sink her teeth into his flesh, all of his flesh. That heartbeat.
 

She wanted to make it hers forever.
To
feel it pumping into her own veins.
He pulled the hair away from his
neck and “Daniella – go on,” he said. Her head fell back and she moaned
from the sight. He didn’t know what he was saying or
who
he was saying it to. Inwardly, she knew this but it didn’t matter. Her teeth
had begun to grow.
 
She couldn’t
help it. She felt his heart beating against her, the length of him inside of
her, his teeth caressing her neck in matching rhythm. His neck was so close to
her mouth. Her teeth were sharp points now. She opened her mouth and poised it
above his jugular.

“Stop - I can’t – I’m not safe.” She pushed him
roughly with too much strength in her haste and he fell back hard.
 

 
“What the
– what? I…I… said I’d use a condom!” He was disorientated, confused and
trying hard not to be angry.

She turned away to hide. Her fangs were at full length. She
grabbed her boots from the floor.

“I’m sorry. I can’t. I have to go.” In an instant, she
was gone and left no signs she’d ever been there.
 
She’d forgotten to use human speed.

He blinked a few times as he got up off the floor, pulled
up his pants and stared at the door.
 
What did he just see, he asked himself over and over as he stared. She
had moved faster than anyone he’d ever seen. How could that be?
 
The answer came to him immediately but
he couldn’t accept it and dismissed it as impossible. Vampires aren’t real, he
told himself. But he had seen what just happened, that type of speed, only in
movies. Don’t be ridiculous – you just weren’t in your right mind. He
shook his head and ran both hands through his hair, pacing, as he turned it
over and over in his mind.

Outside she’d swung open the Jeep door, tossed in her
boots and turned on the ignition before the door was even closed.
“Dammit!!!
 
she
yelled. The Jeep skidded out of the driveway as she drove east to the 10
Freeway, craving home.
 
Craving safety.
She yelled, “Dammit shit mother FUCKER!!!!”

Her fangs still sharp in her mouth, showing to anyone who
looked, she began to cry.
 
Red tears
fell from her eyes and disappeared soon after they hit the floor. Incredible,
painful loneliness overcame her. She hit the pedal to the floor and sped down
Sepulveda, skidding as she turned onto the 10 Freeway ramp. She veered back and
forth dangerously between all the lanes, recklessly negotiating cars and trucks
as she passed Robertson, La Brea, Crenshaw.

With one giant twist of squealing tires she merged onto
the 110 hitting the iPod and blasting Duality by
Slipnot
.
Her exit home came and went.
 
She
should go home, she thought, but fuck that. She merged onto the 101 and used
the shoulder to avoid slow cars, bumping over litter and fragments of busted
tires without noticing.
 
Images of
Adrian’s naked body tormented her, the way he kissed her so deeply, scratched
her with his nails, penetrated her with his gorgeous blue eyes and his
throbbing...

“Watch where you’re
goin
’!
 
You stupid bitch!!” someone yelled,
interrupting her.
 

To avoid tearing their head off, she hit the gas pedal
and pushed her Jeep to 120mph, drove the 101 frantically.
 
She released a primal scream of
frustration as she passed the Alvarado Street exit, her volume reaching its
full capability and hurting her own ears.
 
She didn’t care.
 
Someone
pull me over, she thought, please, I’m begging you.
repeated
over and over as the song came to an end before “(K)Now F(
orever
)”
by
Mudvayne
replaced it.
 
She sped past the exits: Melrose, Santa
Monica, Sunset,
Hollywood
.
 

She took the next ramp, Gower, and didn’t even see the
patrons of ARCO look up as she almost put the Jeep on its side turning right
onto Franklin Avenue. Cars honked and nearly hit each other trying to avoid
her. The lights were on her side, and the ones that weren’t she ignored,
causing furious drivers to blast horn after horn.
 

She yelled at them, “What the fuck are you guys doing up
at this hour?
 
Go home and go to
bed!”
 
She turned left onto Western
and veered right at the turn where it becomes Los Feliz.
 
At the first left she turned, passing
the sign, “Griffith Park.” She drove midway up and parked, stuck her keys in
her pocket and with her bare feet, she ran.
 
She ran as fast as her feet would carry
her up the hill, faster than human eyes could understand.

Running through the desert foliage, she felt branches
scrape her skin and the knowledge that she healed within seconds only made her
more furious. Her bare feet and powerful legs jumped over rocks and bushes. She
blanched as rocks and cactus spine cut into her feet.
 
It didn’t matter.
 
In seconds the pain was gone, the skin
back together as though it had never been sliced.
 
She’d cut the slivers and rock out
later, and heal again. Who
cares.

She was almost at the top when she smelled him. Fire took
over her senses and she opened her mouth like an animal, fangs bared. A hawk’s
wings flapped high above. A horn honked far below. A centipede crawled across a
dead branch; it’s tiny legs clicking away. The coyote.
 
She heard its tiny heart beat. Saw it,
its face turned toward its
predator,
paw half lifted
off the ground in confusion. It sprinted fearfully into the darkness but she
leapt into the air and cleared the distance just as she had with the junkie.
This time she followed her most violent instinct. Grabbing onto his quickly
retreating form, she mastered him, buried her face into its mangy fur and sunk
her teeth into its neck. To release her tension she had to take its life. When
it was done her head shot up and she looked at the sky, at nothing, at
everything and yelled from the bottom of her soul as the blood dripped from her
mouth, red tears fell from her eyes.

      
____________________

Adrian locked his apartment door and walked to metal
shelves you’d normally see in a garage holding tools, to grab one of the many
bottles of liquor there. He grabbed a bottle of
Glenmorangie
and then turned on his computer.
 
While it booted up he thumbed through his mail and poured the scotch
into a dirty glass that waited on the desk. It wasn’t clear how long it had
been there or how often it had been used.
 

Bill. Bill. Another bill.
Coupon
booklet that he never opened.
A card from his mother.
 
He opened it and read the front: “Just
because...” He flipped it open to read: “…I love you.”
 

He smiled and read what she’d inscribed, taking a sip
from the dirty glass. “Adrian, isn’t this the cutest thing? I saw it and had to
send it.
 
I hope you don’t find it too
corny. Things are well here. I picked up the violin again, as you suggested.
I’m rusty, of course, but it sure did feel nice and it shook away the fatigue I
told you about. I love you so much. Always thinking of you – Mom.”
Standing up, he walked to the entertainment center and propped it up where he
could easily see it and went back to the computer.

Several pages of search results appeared when he typed
“Daniella Harcourt” into the search engine. When he added “Photographer,” he
found her. He clicked on “Images” and up popped pages of fashion spreads plus a
few
candids
of her friends at events. One image
stopped him dead.
 
It was of
Daniella covering her face with her hand as she stood next to a good-looking
man who was younger than him.
 
He
leaned forward to focus and clicked on it. An article appeared about Daniella’s
work where underneath the photo it read “With her assistant Julian Domingo.”
Her assistant!
Ohhhhh
. He relaxed and kept searching.
There were no other photos of her.

He searched more links but they all seemed to be similar,
perhaps from the same press release information, he guessed. They all said she
was self taught and had burst on the scene causing quite a stir in the fashion
community with her specific and unique vision and her complete lack of interest
in conforming to the
norm.There
was nothing about her background. All the information pointed to her time in
the industry.

He stared at one of the images highlighted from a spread
in Vanity Fair. It was of a woman running from a single man. She wore Prada and
her gown was torn and bloody. The man also wore Prada, a suit, and his face was
covered with a wolf mask.
 
It was
shot at night outside. Adrian opened up iTunes and found the song, “In Line” by
Robert
Skoro
. He turned the volume up loud, kicked
his feet up on the desk, took a sip of his scotch and looked at the picture for
a long time.

16 June 1812

The evening following her invitation to dine, Lady
Elizabeth Jendring sent a card to the inn. It bore the address of her home beneath
her engraved initials. Miss Daniella Harcourt read it with anticipation. She
was entirely mystified as to how this stranger would know anything of her or
her problem, but she was gratified that the invitation had not been forgotten.
“I dare not hope, but how can I not?” she asked aloud, eyes staring at the
card, her golden ticket.

Mind racing with questions, she nervously dressed in her
second-finest gown. It had not been in fashion for two seasons, but the Kelly
Green muslin trimmed with pale yellow lace was becoming. With shaking hands she
put on matching kid gloves and slightly worn Pelisse as she raced down the
stairs in an effort to say goodbye to her father.
 

He was not to be found. With sinking heart she rightly
guessed him to have vanished to places he should not go. Since they had no
money, he would be playing “on tick” in hopes of turning back the hands of
time. She shuddered at the thought and left. She did not know that she would
never again see him with human eyes.
 

She set off to Grosvenor Square on foot, walking along
snow-dusted streets, unable to pay for a carriage.
 
Millicent’s refusal to help still fresh
in her mind, she hoped against hope that Lady Jendring would indeed provide a
solution to her problem. In her heart she knew she and her father would be
thrown onto the streets by morning.

Upon arrival, she knocked upon the magnificent oak door.
With hand raised mid-air, it opened. Standing before her was a butler of Indian
descent and welcoming countenance. He bowed, took her coat, brushed the snow
off it, and led her to the dining room where a magnificent feast was spread on
a very large table waiting for her. She gasped at the sight: Collared Eels,
Pigeon Pie, Pig’s Head, Ginger Bread Cake,
Potugall
Cakes, Apples a la
Parisienne
, Bread Pudding with
Chocolate Cream and more delights – the names of which she knew not.

 
“Her ladyship
will be down -” he began.

 
“ – I’m
here Saanjh, thank you. Please tell the others we are not to be
disturbed.”
 
Lady Jendring touched
his face tenderly as she passed him. Saanjh beamed at his mistress, bowed once
again and left them.

Daniella remained silent, waiting to be addressed.
 
She was much impressed by the lady’s
gown – it was of the gothic influence, the most recent rage of society.
Only the very rich could afford such a skilled and modern tailor. The sky-blue
Elizabethan detailed gown with crossed bodice became its owner beautifully. A
locket hung from her neck. Her golden hair was once again in fashionable
ringlets with a sapphire pin tucked in nicely.

 
“Daniella
– so happy to see your shining face.” She took Daniella’s hands in hers
and Daniella became again aware of their lack of warmth.

 
“I am truly
gratified to be your guest this evening, Lady Jendring. It is a most unexpected
honour.”

The Lady Jendring reached and took Daniella’s chin gently
in her hand and tilted the young woman’s face
upward.She
looked deeply into her eyes and observed
aloud, “Lovely,” before letting go and stepping back to a more appropriate
distance.“I
wasn’t sure of your palette so I had a variety
of dishes prepared in your honor. You must be famished, my dear. I can hear you
salivating.”
 

Daniella blushed and crossed to her seat, “Your necklace
is beautiful,” Elizabeth’s hand glided to the locket and she held it. “Thank you.
I never take it off. We’ve plenty of time to talk, you and I. Plenty of time.