Bride of Blood:: First Kiss (33 page)

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
She closed her eyes completely and began to remember a time, lifetimes ago when they were in a similar situation.
 
It had been the time of Alexander the Great’s march on Asia.
 
She smiled and drifted off to sleep.
 
That after all, was a story for another day.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
It was late evening when Anton awoke.
 
He sat up in bed and yawned.
 
Looking to his left he saw Velara sleeping peacefully.
 
She was naked but wrapped up in the sheets.
 
He bent down and kissed her forehead.
 
It was both a sad and a happy moment for him.
 
Happy because they were reunited after such a long separation.
 
Sad because they were going to part once again.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Velara opened her eyes and smiled at him.
 
She reached up and touched his face.
 
He kissed it and closed his eyes.
 
How badly he wanted to make love to her again, but he knew that she had to go.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
“War is coming,” she whispered.
 
It was as if she could read his thoughts.
 
He nodded and both of them got up.
 
Anton walked over to the window and pulled the blanket down.
 
The sun was gone over the horizon although the sky had a purplish tint.
 
Velara came up behind him and wrapped her arms around him.
 
She nestled her head on his back.
 
They stood like that for several moments, not speaking. He thought, “No, my love, it is not coming.
 
It is already here.”

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Chelsea was standing in the doorway of the hotel room.
 
The Cleaners were just leaving the room with the dead prostitute.
 
“Take care of it, dear,” Anton said to her.
 
She nodded and handed The Head Cleaner an envelope full of 100’s.
 
Anton walked over to Velara who was adjusting her hair in front of the mirror.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
“Chelsea has the van out front,” he told her.
 
She stopped arranging her hair, turned around and walked into his arms.
 
They held each other close.
 
She took in his scent and tried to burn it into her mind for later use.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
They walked out to the parking lot hand in hand.
 
Sure enough, Chelsea stood beside the van, the sliding door was open.
 
As they peered inside, they saw a black coffin where the seats had once been.
 
All of the necessary shipping stickers were on it.
 
It was ready to be shipped to Africa as quickly as possible.
 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Velara let go of Anton’s hand and looked into his eyes.
 
Neither of them spoke again for what seemed like several minutes.
 
Chelsea looked at them sadly.
 
She knew that Anton had been searching and praying for a reunion with Velara for several months.
 
It was sad that they had to part after only a brief time together.
 
She thought of her former boyfriend Erik who had recently been killed in a car accident.
 
She had always thought he was going to be “the one”.
 
With him she would be able to share her secret of what she did, and one of their children would carry on the family tradition.
 
Now he was gone, and she doubted whether she would ever be able to love another.
 
But she had to…someday.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Velara broke the silence, “Instructions will be sent to you as soon as Lady Bernadine figures out what Drago is up to,”

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
He nodded and held her one last time.
 
He whispered in her ear, “After this is all over we will…”

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Velara put her finger to his lips and said, “When this is all over we will be together, forever.”
 
She kissed him deeply and then said, “Put us out of your mind for now.
 
You need to focus on this war.
 
You must survive.”
 
She kissed him again and said, “
Adieu
, best of loves, love of my life and keeper of my heart and soul.”
 
After that she let go of him, and climbed into the van.
 
Chelsea followed her and they hugged before she opened the lid to the coffin.
 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Anton walked up to the open door of the van and said, “I love you.
 
Both of you.”
 
Chelsea hugged him and kissed him on the cheek.
 
Velara held his hand and squeezed it.
 
Then she lay down in the coffin.
 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
“I love you,” she said.
 
Then he crossed her arms, closed her eyes, and turned into what appeared to be a stone statue.
 
Anton sighed and closed the coffin lid.
 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Chelsea followed him out of the van and slid the door closed.
 
He looked into Chelsea’s eyes and then kissed them.
 
“Take her to the shipping yard,” he pulled out his wallet and passed her several hundreds.
 
“Then I want you to go to the vacation house in Iceland.”

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
She opened her mouth to say something, but he held up his hand, “It’s not uncommon in wars like this for familiars and their families to be killed.
 
No arguments.
 
I want you to get your parents and go there and don’t leave or contact anyone until I call for you.”

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
She nodded and put the money into her purse.
 
He continued, “Do not call me.
 
I will call you.
 
Do not call friends.
 
Do not leave the cottage or draw attention to yourself.
 
Remember you’re Icelandic and do not speak English when you are in town.
 
Eventually, we will come for you, okay?”

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
She nodded.
 
She had been taught the Icelandic language for years and was fluent.
 
She also spoke Spanish, French, Korean and Portuguese.
 
The life of a familiar meant rapid and unexpected changes.
 
She had to be ready to relocate and change who she was at a moment’s notice.
 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
She hugged him fiercely.
 
She was scared, not for herself, but for her vampire friends.
 
She knew that this war would result in many deaths.
 
She hoped and prayed that Lady Death would not come for anyone she loved.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Anton watched the van drive away.
 
He already missed them.
 
He prayed that he would see them again.
 
He knew that only way was to win this war, and the only way to end this war would be with Drago’s death.
 
He remembered his promise to Prince Vlad that he would personally be the one to send Drago to Hell.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Dawn was approaching.
 
It would take too long for Anton to make his way back home.
 
As appealing as it sounded to see Alexander and Rachael again, it was just not possible to make it back before sunrise.
 
He walked down the road and tried to collect his thoughts.
 
He was tired.
 
Very tired.
 
He decided that a rest was in order.
 
Maybe a few more hours than he usually did.
 
Maybe a few days.
 
And what better place to have a long and undisturbed rest than in a cemetery crypt?

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Carl and Felix were just about finished for the night.
 
They had already robbed two other graves and were preparing for number three.
 
Felix was sure that this grave would be the jackpot they were looking for because the woman that was buried there was very wealthy when she died.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Carl was uneasy as he threw the last shovel-f of dirt out of the hole.
 
He really tried to go straight when he got out of prison.
 
He’d done a 5-year stretch for grand theft auto.
 
He told his PO that he would get a legit job, but jobs were hard enough to come by for people that didn’t have a felony.
 
Felix was an old family friend who offered to let Carl work for him.
 
He had his hand in all kinds of illegal shit from fixing horse races to grave robbing.