Aris Rising: The Court of Vampires: AN INFINITY DIARIES NOVEL (12 page)

“Is there no conflict in your world?”

“There is no conflict in the world of the Catacombs. There is only the Queen and King, Akira and Khansu, and the Immortals Akira has created. The Royal Council makes the laws and we uphold them. We have no human needs and we cannot die so we have nothing to fear. Without fear, there is no conflict. It is fear that fuels your civilization, that binds each one of you humans to aggression and hostility. It is fear that creates war and hatred.
Nothing more, nothing less.”

“I do know what you mean about fear. It doesn’t exist, does it, unless we give it power?” She handed him her glass hoping for a refill.

He walked to the kitchen, returning with a glass of orange juice. She wrinkled her nose when she tasted it. It wasn’t what she wanted and he knew it. The champagne made her head feel less stuffed and her heart a bit more festive. “Don’t you think I could have just one more mimosa?”

“Drink this first. If you still would like to have it, I will bring it to you. I have researched your illness on the computer and most accounts suggest large amounts of vitamin C.”

She downed it quickly, then, smiling, handed him the glass once more.

“Alright, you win.” Again he crossed to the kitchen. When he gave her the refilled champagne glass, she sniffed the contents.

“Better.” She sipped then placed the glass on the coffee table. “Now, please tell me more of your society.”

He leaned back on the sofa, stretching his long legs; he rested his stockinged feet on the table in front of the fire. He placed hers on his lap tucking the blanket securely around her.

“What do you want to know?”

“What do you do all day in the Catacombs to keep you busy for all eternity? Don’t you run out of things?”

“We do not experience time as you do. Because we have no human needs, one moment is much the same as the next. So there is no concept of weeks or years.

“We are a studious society. We read. We have our own level of scientific research. We hunt. We are artists and craftsmen. We develop relationships. After all, we inhabit a human body Sarah. The only difference is the alien venom rather than blood in our veins. When Queen Akira realized she could create a society
from the human race by exchanging our blood for her venom, she created a whole new species, neither human nor alien. We are creatures not of this earth, yet not of her planet either. It is that venom that makes us what we are.” He laughed. “Other than a few small things, super powers and living eternally, we are very much the same as you are. We’re just made of a sturdier stock.”

The telephone rang, jolting Sarah upright. Aris lifted the receiver, handing it to her.

“Happy New Year to you both too.” Sarah listened as Colleen and Bob gave her their rendition of Auld Ang Syne. She couldn’t believe it was midnight. There were no minutes or hours when she was with Aris.

“Tell Carlos we said Happy New Year to him. See you guys soon.” Colleen giggled as Bob’s kiss cut off her words. “Bye.”

“C and Bob say Happy New Year.” She placed the phone on the table and as she leaned across him, he reached for her.

“Happy New Year to you Sarah.” He looked deeply into her eyes as he pressed his full lips gently against her mouth. He didn’t move. His warm breath caressed her cheeks as his dark eyes locked on hers. She felt she was drowning in the tenderness of his kiss.

He released her, leaning her gently against her pillows. “Now, close your eyes and rest. Nothing can harm you while I’m here to take care of you.”

Relaxing completely, she knew he told the truth.

S
arah opened the box one more time before she crawled into bed. The gloves DeMarco brought her from Italy were beautiful. Soft and luxurious, they matched her dark brown boots exactly. She realized how much she really did like him when she saw him again. She readily admitted something about him excited her, something so much deeper than his good looks and breeding.
“Possibly that you don’t have to kill yourself to make love to him.”

She snickered at her own joke as she crawled into her bed. Yawning, she opened her drawer to reach for her journal. Tired but behind in her writing, she was determined to catch up. Disappointing Bonnie in doing her journaling homework was low on her list of things she wanted to do.

As she began to write, she thought of the hypnotic flashbacks she had been having when she wrote. They were not uncommon, but hers were so clear, so intensely visual.
“They’re either a great imagination or an amazing subconscious memory. Either way, so far, they’ve been pretty damn interesting
,” she thought.

She wrote about the physical sensations she experienced in her afternoon session. The tastes and smells were so clear, so alive to her. She closed her eyes remembering the fragrance of the rosemary
and thyme rushes that were spread on the floors of the corridors of the palace. The sweet scent of the pomanders the courtiers wore to mask the smells that were not so nice. She remembered the aroma of the forest floor of the gypsy camp.

She drifted in and out of sleep until a vivid dream grabbed her and held her. It was night; she had stolen away from her father’s manor. She had just finished dancing with Diego and they stood in the midst of the clearing. Her long blond hair hung loosely about her hips while short damp tendrils of curls lay in soft waves about her face. He watched her, his eyes full of desire, a sensuous smile playing at the corners of his full mouth.

Without warning, a dark gypsy woman grabbed Elizabeth by the shoulders. Roughly, she threw her to the ground. “He is my man.”

Elizabeth sat stunned, dust all around her, her borrowed gypsy skirt falling softly about her thighs. “Yours?”

“Mine.” The dark beauty screeched as she attacked the shocked girl. Slapping her rival hard, she stood over Elizabeth, her hands on her hips and hate in her wild eyes. Firelight bounced off the halo of gold anklets dangling from her pale leg as Elizabeth swept her foot under the knee of the standing woman, knocking her into the dirt. Like a wild animal the gypsy threw herself on top of Elizabeth and sat straddling her. Entangling her hands in the blond curls, she grabbed two fists-f of hair. She pulled out a great wad, held it high and laughed wildly.

Elizabeth rubbed the tiny bald spot for only a moment before tossing her opponent on her back, returning the vicious slap that still stung her cheek. Elizabeth panted as she did her best to draw her long hair out from beneath them. The weight of their bodies as they rolled in the soil pulled and tugged at it mercilessly.

The men of the camp laughed and cheered as they formed a circle around the battling women. Arms and legs flailed as they twisted and turned. Newly stirred dust rose so thick around them it
was impossible to tell the difference between the dark and the pale flesh. Female grunts and groans along with Spanish epithets spilled from the fray until, at last, there was silence and stillness. The two women lay side by side, panting, caked with a thin, pale coating of clay made of dirt and perspiration.

One of the men ventured close to the filthy, bruised fighters. He stared down at them for a full moment then reached his hands to help them up.

Elizabeth stood, smoothing her skirt, her long hair tangled with soot, leaves and twigs. The gypsy was worse for the wear. A trickle of blood coated the side of her mouth and one of her golden earrings was gone, lost somewhere in the dirt. Wiping the blood with the back of her hand, she gave Elizabeth the sign of the evil eye as she hobbled out of the clearing to her wagon. As she left the circle of light, she turned to spit at Elizabeth. She missed her mark and a small wet circle in the dust was all that was left of her rage.

Diego laughed out loud as he gathered Elizabeth into his arms, brushing dust and leaves from her fiery cheeks. “Who is that woman and what claim does she have on you?” It was a demand, not a question.

“She is a distant cousin. We were promised when we were babies. She still lives by that promise. I live by another.” He turned her to him to kiss her grimy face. When his lips left hers, his mouth was smudged and sooty. His embrace calmed her. She smiled as she drew the scarf from around his head to dust his lips before she kissed him again, this time with passion.

Strong arms lifted her as dark eyes watched with hate from deep within the shadows. The lovers murmured softly to one another as he carried her into the night away from the camp.

He found a soft mound of grass beneath a tall tree so thick with leaves the moon and stars were hidden from sight. He sat her down, her back leaning against the rough bark.

“Wait here, I will return.” He disappeared into the dark returning in just moments with a huge bucket full of warm water, a blanket and the clothes she had worn from her father’s home. He spread the blanket beneath the tree.

“Let me undress you and bathe you.” He whispered in her ear as he slowly slid her clothes from her body. She was dusty and dirty from her match with the gypsy woman. She felt the grit on her skin as her chemise and then her skirt were removed. It was so dark she could barely make out his movements, but she heard water splash and the sound of a cloth being wrung out.

The warm wet towel was welcome on her parched, scratched skin. At first the little cuts and scratches on her arms and legs burned as he cleaned them. But his gentle touch soon took the burn away. He dried her with another cloth then began to untangle her long blond curls with a comb made of horn. At first the snarls caught on the teeth of the comb and pulled, but his gentle persistence freed the waves to pool around her nude shoulders. He laid her back on the blanket.

In the distance, the plaintive sound of a lone violin filled the air. She could see the white of his smile as he drew near to her. “My beauty.” He breathed her name into her ear as his hands found the warm mounds of her breasts. “My angel.” His breath felt warm and sounded sweet as he nuzzled her neck. In her young life she had only thought of her neck as a place to hang jewelry. Her gypsy gave it a new purpose. First his breath, then his tongue tracing her pulse as it rose in speed until it raced beneath her skin. He kissed the hollow of her throat and laid small kisses along both of her collar bones.

Her hands went to his hair and she laced her fingers through it, pulling his kissing lips to her breasts. He feasted first on one then the other. As his tongue traced the hard mounds of her erect nipples, she began to unlace the ties that held his trousers in place.
He stood tearing the clothes from his body, tossing them in the dirt. He returned to his love nude, erect, full of desire. Unable to control her passion, lying on her back she bent her knees pressing her feet into the earth. She raised herself to him. He kissed her bare abdomen and the tender skin inside her thighs.

Her legs opened further as he kneeled in front of her. Wrapping his large hands around her legs, he lifted her and entered her. She encircled his hips with her legs and they rolled onto their sides, locked in a boundless embrace.

The distant music matched their lovemaking without fault even as they moved faster and faster. Small moans in their throats added to the symphony until at last the sounds were no longer small. A deep wrenching groan tore from her throat as she reached her peak and soon, the same from him. Their breath calmed as they lazily caressed one another and the music faded and died as the lovers fell into a satisfied sleep there under the tree near the gypsy camp.

#

Sarah opened her eyes, picked up her pen and began to document her latest vision. “I’m glad Bonnie won’t ever see this journal. I’d be mortified if anyone knew what a wild gypsy heart lives deep inside this mundane, ordinary therapist.” She giggled to herself as she began to write.

S
arah didn’t like to shop. The congestion and noise of malls irritated her and all the post-holiday sales brought in additional mobs of cost-conscious shoppers. All the neon lights and loud music echoing through the cavernous spaces gave her a pounding headache. Had Colleen not used the “best friend” tactic, she would still be at home enjoying her Sunday ritual instead of plodding through one shoe department after another looking for comfortable shoes for the expectant mother. After several attempts to shove her swollen feet into a size seven, Colleen finally gave up and purchased a nondescript pair of flat black leather, size eight boots.

“I’ve been a size seven all my life. Who would have thought having a baby would move you up a whole shoe size? No wonder all my footwear hurts my feet.” They carried their loaded trays to a table in the crowded food court. As they sat down a toddler at the next table plopped down on the concrete floor, threw back her head and began to scream. The harried young mother gave the two friends an apologetic look as she gathered her packages and her howling daughter and made her way toward the exit. Sarah watched as the child pulled and tugged at her mother’s hand finally sitting down refusing to move. Flailing her little arms, she kicked
her feet shrieking at the top of her lungs. The embarrassed mother bent to lift her daughter, dropping all her packages. She looked like she was going to cry. Colleen watched the scene, a terrified look on her face. It took a full minute for her to regain her composure and return to her beloved burger.

Laughing, Sarah sipped her soft drink and joked, “Are you sure you want to go through with this thing, C?”

Colleen’s voice had a serious tone when she finally answered. “I’ll tell you the truth. Sometimes I do wish I could back out of it. It’s a huge responsibility to have a child. I’ve never told Bob this but I would have been totally happy just being his wife. Just being the two of us. Hell, I thought getting married was the scariest thing in the world. Now, this.” She shrugged her shoulders as she glanced at her round tummy. “Sometimes I’m petrified. What if I screw up and turn my kid into a basket case. I mean, look what my parents did to me.”