Midian Evolution

“Why are we in this pub when yer master and her husband eat somewhere else?” Anderson asked, and for once he didn’t sound annoyed. I suspected that had a lot to do with the six pints of local brew that he’d already washed down his gullet. He had an amazing tolerance for alcohol. I’d counted three bottles of wine to go into him on the train before we even got here.

“Because, my Holy Cleric,” Alucard answered, sipping his wine, “you can drink while my wife and I seek our own nourishment.” He tapped the ash off a cigarette he pretended to smoke, and smiled winningly at the woman who refreshed our drinks.

I stared down at my tomato juice. It tasted good, but I was blood-hungry, and it looked enough like what I really wanted to make it difficult to focus. I snatched Alucard’s cigarette from him, not even asking. Proud I could match his speed, I puffed on the fag furiously, which helped a little.

“How can yeh have time t’hunt?” Anderson ordered different ale this time, and smelled it before taking a sip. His face relaxed even farther than it had already, and he started drinking in earnest. He stopped only after half the glass remained, wiped his mouth and looked at us. “We’re supposed ta meet so the newlyweds can tour King Carol’s little summer retreat.” He glanced at the clock on the far wall. “In forty-five minutes, ta be exact.”

“It only takes a few minutes to drain a body,” I mumbled, still puffing away. God, I was starving. Master had disposed of our daily ration from Walter, forcing me to go along with hunting instead of just assuaging my appetite normally. “Right now, I don’t think it would take me more than two minutes.” I felt my teeth trying to extend, and worried at one with the tip of my tongue.

“What about that one?” Master said, pointing with his smallest finger toward a man that had been leering at me since our arrival.

“He’s not a child molester,” I argued. “He’s only sitting there thinking about fucking me, and in every position.” I’d thought about him, though, and ventured inside his head. He had a large family and a decent job. His insurance would take care of his wife and children, and they’d be better off without him.

“Surely not every position,” Alucard murmured while Anderson curled his lips in disgust. “He probably only knows four or five ways to fuck you.”

“He’s a local,” I said. “He’ll be missed.” I shivered at the very idea of that greasy creature across the bar getting his hands on me. He looked seriously unwashed. Come to think of it, I probably did, too. I’d love a good, long shower.

“If’n yeh pick people travelin’ with us, they’ll be missed, too,” Anderson pointed out. “Why not eat the filthy heathen?”

Alucard chuckled into his wineglass, and when he lifted his gaze to the paladin, I saw approval sparkling deep from within him. “Oh, well said,” he murmured. “You know, Anderson, I’d love to turn you into my kind. You’re a natural.”

“I’ll fookin’ kill myself first.” Anderson drained his glass and grabbed the woman circling the room for yet another round. “I still ‘ave that left to me, yeh filthy monster.” His words didn’t have quite the venom I was accustomed to hearing, and I smiled as I realized Anderson was getting drunk.

Oh, this would be fine entertainment. I needed to hurry up and feed so I could get back here for the show.

“I’ll take what I can get,” I told Alucard, getting up from the booth bench. “Are you coming with me for a taste? I’ll share.”

Alucard grinned slowly. “Generous of you.” He stood. “Anderson, stay put,” he commanded.

“I’m no’ movin’ from this spot,” Anderson swore. “First decent beer ta go down my throat in more than a week.” He took four long swallows of the ale and gave Alucard a long look. “Yeh know I can’t go anywhere, yeh lang-chafted blazin’ chield. Hurry oup an’ eat th’ heathen.”

I tittered; I couldn’t help it. Anderson’s brogue was terrible now. “What did he just call you?” I asked Alucard as we began to walk toward the door. I’d already started sending out seductive vibrations to the leering man in the corner. He’d follow us out, I knew.

“I believe he called me a big-mouthed braggart,” Alucard answered thoughtfully, not appearing disturbed by the insult.

We strolled into the populated commerce area, whereupon my master made a show of looking at his wrist like he had a watch. He leaned in, moving swiftly, and put his soft but firm lips on my forehead. “I’ll meet you in that shaded section between buildings,” he whispered. “He won’t approach if I stay with you.”

That small kiss was nothing more than a show, a ploy to make my quarry believe I parted with my lover. It made my nerves twang and my unbeating heart just ache. I’d love to have a small kiss like that one for no reason, or for an honest one. He didn’t have to be romantic with me. Indeed, I understood he didn’t have that in his nature. But, I still held onto a bit of hope he could learn to meet such a small desire of mine.

He’d loved Elizabeta; I had that from his own mouth. He could love me, too. I demanded it. Screw what he’d become over the years. The very fact he could tell me about a lost love told me his heart still held that power.

“It shouldn’t take long,” I answered, reaching for his hand and squeezing lightly while meeting his eyes. Already I felt my darkness flowing out, searching for my chosen prey. Part of me attempted reaching for him, too, but I aborted that quickly.

Alucard smiled gently, turned and walked across the street.

I feigned interest in the architecture around me, and made it easy for the letch from the bar to follow. True hunger made this less of a game than my previous hunts. I didn’t want to toy with this one. I had no desire to torture him, to draw out his suffering; I was just starving. A starving animal doesn’t play with its food.

Standing in a puddle of gloom cast by a tall building, I waited. My quarry approached with hesitant, furtive steps. As I bent to secure my bootlace, he came right up alongside. “From the train?” he asked in broken English.

“Yes.” I made a good knot and straightened, neither encouraging nor discouraging. “What do you want?”

“Your…” He trailed off, obviously searching for the right word. “Your man,” he continued. “He pleases you?”

I found a spark of humor in that question while looking into those leering brown eyes. “Does your wife please you?” I asked pointedly, looking at his wedding band.

He had the grace to pretend embarrassment. “Stupid woman doesn’t appreciate me,” he answered, taking his band off and slipping it into his front shirt pocket. “I work and work, and all she can do when I come home is ask me to watch children while she takes long baths.” He thrust a hip out at me and smiled sickeningly. “You won’t ask me that, will you?”

I admitted to myself that his English improved the longer he spoke. “I don’t have any children,” I answered. “I never will.”

“Good. You stay with that.” The man slicked his dark brown hair back and favored me with another winning smile. “Children are bad. Once you have them, you won’t want to fuck.”

Something deep inside me gave a painful twinge.

“She won’t have sex, is that it?” I asked, approaching him. “Why not?”

“Bah.” The man gave a dismissing wave of his thick, work-hardened hand. “I don’t ask. I just get it outside.”

I really didn’t have to feel bad about killing this one. My feminist heart just hated the idea that some woman spent precious energy on a man who wouldn’t care for her effort.

“Give me your ring, then,” I said, holding out my hand. “You can say you lost it.”

He grinned at me. “You want the gold?” He reached into his pocket and drew out the plain circle that was supposed to have meant love and eternity. “Take it, then. You bend over for me and I give you what you want, pretty.”

Sick at how easily this man violated his vows, I let the simple ring fall into my hand. I looked at him from under my eyelashes. “You live close?” I asked. “I could come see you afterward. The train doesn’t leave until tomorrow…”

It was a lie, but he fell for it. He eagerly took a slip of paper from his pocket and a stub of a pencil, and started scribbling. “I’m easy to find,” he said, his pencil scoring the flimsy paper.

I looked past him, noticing Master approaching our position. My entire being went still in appreciation at seeing his long-limbed body coming this way. He didn’t walk; he flowed. The scratch-scratch of hard graphite on slick thermal paper acted as a cheap symphonic contrast to his fluid movements.

He was a god, and he walked on basest earth to make his kill.

I really wished sometimes I wasn’t so smitten with Alucard. No good came of it, after all, and there were many moments I lost track of myself or time just because I couldn’t quit looking at him.

Damn him.

“So, here?” The man asked, handing the paper to me. “We won’t be seen.”

Now how did he know that? Idiot. This was a public place and people traveled everywhere. I nodded though, thinking Alucard and I could make the kill quick enough. Sending out more and more seduction, I took the two steps toward my prey and forced back my distaste. Dirty or not, chauvinist pig or not, he’d feed me.

I put my hands in his hair, grimacing inwardly at the oily feel of it. Slowly, I backed him toward the nearest wall, smiling up into his smug face. “I’ve been looking for a real man,” I said, aware of Master coming up behind us from one side. “I like hands that work.”

The man made a sigh of anticipation as I attacked his zipper. The bulge there made it hard to get it undone. I tore his dirty underwear open, and almost froze in the act. Not only was his cock uncircumcised and reeking of yeast, but leaking something.

Oh, hell no.

I backed away. I’d had every intention of at least letting this man come before I killed him, even if not by actually touching his dick. Now, however, even my thirst for blood seemed muted. I’d never had a more effective ruination of my appetite.

“I can’t, Master,” I said, taking yet another step back. “He’s not edible.”

“What?” The man said, his face going from confusion to anger. “I paid you, you bitch! Give me my ring back if you aren’t going to-.”

Alucard touched the man’s forehead and he immediately quieted, staring off into space as if he wasn’t standing outdoors with his gangrenous cock hanging in the breeze. “No,” my master agreed. “Not for you, sotie. He’d make you sick.” Grinning, he tilted the man’s head back to expose his throat. “I’ll filter it for you. You can drink from me.”

Usually it stimulated me to watch Alucard feed, but I couldn’t bear it this time. I quickly walked a few good paces away and looked at the address on the paper. I’d go there and put the man’s ring somewhere his poor wife could see it, and she could sell it for money before his death benefits kicked in.

I’m going to see his widow, I told Alucard. I’ll be back in five minutes. I didn’t need the address after all; if I focused I could feel where the man lived.

Take your time. I’m not hurrying. Master’s mental voice sounded warm and pleased, though I couldn’t imagine why. The nasty man he drank from had to taste terrible.

I became a cloud of thought, a fog of intent and reason, and in seconds I oozed under the door of a house.

It was as I feared. The house, though solid and fairly well furnished, reeked of misery. A young woman sat in a rocker, trying to get two babies asleep at the same time. A third crawled around on the floor in nappies while a fourth slept beside all the action. The mother would have been pretty if her face hadn’t been a canvas for bruises. She had a split lip and her eyes were so dull she almost looked like a ghoul.

The babies fussed, and one rooted around for her breast. She adjusted to allow it to drink, her beaten face moving into a brief smile.

I’d intended to just leave the ring. I couldn’t do that now. This poor thing needed to know her heartbreak’s end was at hand. I flowed back out the door and politely knocked on it. Master, I’m going to tell her, I thought. I feel sorry for her and I want her to know she doesn’t have to live in fear anymore.

Alucard’s dry, mental chuckle spoke worlds. Blame me, then, Seras.

“Come in,” I heard the woman call out in very good English.

I opened the door and stood just inside. “Hello,” I greeted. If I was alive I’d be sweating nervously.

“If you’re looking for Nathanial, he’s not here,” the woman said dispassionately, summing me up for one of her husband’s whores. “He hasn’t been home in days.”

“He isn’t coming home,” I said quietly. I dropped the wedding ring on a little table by the door. “He’s dead.”

The woman shuddered. Her dark eyes closed. Even though she sat, she slumped in relief. “You?” she asked after a long moment.

“My husband,” I replied. “Vlad Teppes.”

The woman’s eyes snapped open. Very slowly, she got to her feet, clutching her children close. The ones she couldn’t hold, she stood in front of, her long skirts shielding them from my view. “One who walks the night,” she whispered. “Please, don’t hurt my children!”

How easily a person of this region believed in vampires. My own master was to blame for that. I could only assume so, anyway.

“I’m not here to hurt you,” I told her softly, my throat aching inside. She was so brave. She only wanted the lives of her little ones, not her own. “I only wanted you to know your husband is dead.” I backed up until I stood outside. “Have a good life.”

It was such a lame thing to say, but I had no better words. I choked at seeing such strong duty, such motherly defense. I knew my own mother had defended me like this. Bits and pieces of the night she and father died came back to me, bright and sudden like lightning strikes. I smelled their blood in my mind.

“Goodbye.” I became fog again, and sped back to Alucard. The second I had a real body, I flung my arms around him. He staggered slightly from surprise.

“Sotie?” he asked quietly, gripping my shoulders.

I clung to him and cried like I’d never stop. I couldn’t even talk. Mother’s eyes, filling with determination as she faced the man in dark brown clothes. The cold dark of the closet she pushed me into. The sounds of two men beating my parents to death. The smell of blood and cheap aftershave.

Terror. Mum was gone, and her blood leaked under the closet door. I couldn’t open it at first…

Alucard probed at my mental barriers, asking, not demanding. I let him in instantly, dying to have him inside as well as outside. His warm darkness blanketed my shredded mind. It never lets up for you, Seras, he said. You recover again and again, but the blows never stop coming.

That he’d realized this made everything so much better. I clung to him harder. All I’d wanted was a little acknowledgment of my pain; he couldn’t bring my parents back or show me who killed them. I didn’t always want or need him to fix things or to be my teacher. Sometimes I just wanted a friend.

Being your friend is never boring, Master said in a wry tone. With a careful touch he wiped my cheeks. I watched him taste the mix of blood and tears. He shivered just once, then bent and sipped from the source. The feel of his mouth pressed to my delicate eye corner made me feel both cherished and preyed-upon. Remember, Seras, when you caught me crying? I didn’t talk about it.

…I remember, Alucard, I assured, finally feeling my hysteria ebb. My parent’s death was a deeply rooted, long memory, and I could ordinarily keep the trauma shoved far back in my head. Holding this man who made me better and worse than before helped me get that distance again. You were crying for Elizabeta.

Yes. He said nothing else, just gently turned me and began guiding me back toward the pub. But, what he’d said was enough. His careful dropping of the subject told me he didn’t think my tears were weakness. He himself didn’t enjoy seeming weak by crying, but he’d done it.

Alucard could cry, too.

I grabbed his hand and held onto him all the way back.