Exsanguination Read online

“Go fuck yourself, asshole.”

  “It’s you what’s getting’ it, wanker!”

  For barely an instant, Phillip felt the hand on his shoulder and it was gone. A snapping sound was followed by a scream. He turned. One man was on the ground, cradling a broken arm and the other two were staring at Vanessa. Phillip looked at her. Her eyes were glowing bright red. The two thugs abandoned the wounded one and took off at a run. Phillip saw Vanessa’s eyes return to normal. She opened her mouth to speak and then, after what seemed like a moment’s consideration, stopped and inclined her head in the direction of the parking lot.

  “Let’s go home, shall we?”

  They continued walking.

  “What was that? Your eyes.”

  “An innate reaction to threats and aggression. It’s part of our nature.”

  He frowned. “Would you have . . .?”

  Vanessa finished his question. “Killed him?” she nodded. “I refrained due to your presence. I thought you might find it disturbing had I done so.”

  “To say the least.”

  “If I was a human, they might have beat you to death and then dragged me down an alley for the evening’s fun.”

  “Jesus,” he whispered, “you really think so?”

  “I’m almost completely sure.”

  An hour later, Vanessa was pulling off her sheath dress and Phillip was standing next to the bed, looking at her.

  “Get on the bed,” she gave him a smouldering look and a gentle shove. “On your back.”

  He complied and she moved too fast to see – there was not even a blur. Suddenly, she was on top of him. Wrapping her legs around his, she grasped his wrists and pulled them above his head with one hand. He instinctively struggled to free himself but her hand might as well have been made of iron. Her strength was incredible! He couldn’t move.

  “Head to the side,” she whispered hoarsely as she turned it with her free hand. She lowered her mouth to his throat and he whimpered as he heard a low growl. Again, the short but intense pain was followed by long, delicious pleasure. Fifteen minutes later, she sat up on him and he looked at her.

  “What was that?” he asked with dreamy eyes.

  Vanessa chuckled. “Vampire rape?”

  “Delicious,” he sighed. “Damn, you’re strong!”

  “Sometimes the pleasure is enhanced when the food struggles. It’s kind of an added thrill,” she winked at him and leaned forward to reach behind his neck and unclasp the gold chain that held the sigil that rested on his chest.

  “You don’t need this, now.”

  Phillip’s hand went up to stop hers and he shook his head.

  Sitting upright, she gave him a tender smile and nodded slowly.

  IV

  Late, the next evening, they sat in front of the hearth in the drawing room, eating pizza. Phillip really enjoyed the wood fires in the house. They made things seem . . . homey and cosy.

  “You really need to tell your parents, Phillip. You can put it off but, when you’re not on that plane in a few days, they will likely panic. It’s six in the evening in New York so I would think they should be home.”

  He had been dreading this moment, being pretty sure they weren’t going to react well to his decision. He sighed.

  “You’re right,” he picked up his mobile. He’d stopped calling it a cell phone in favour of the local term ‘mohb-eyel’.

  “Speaker,” Vanessa smiled at him and he hit the touchpad. It rang a few times and a woman’s voice answered.

  “Phillip? . . . John! It’s Phillip! How are you doing? Is everything alright? Do you like London?” the thick New York accent flooded the speaker.

  “Everything is fine, mom. In fact, everything is better than fine.”

  “What’s going on? Are you seeing wonderful things? Big Ben and all that stuff?”

  “Yes, and I’ve met an incredible woman here, just outside London.”

  “A woman? . . . John, he says he met a woman.”

  “It’s about time,” the male voice in the background responded and Vanessa stifled a chuckle.

  “You can tell us all about it when you come home.”

  “That’s just it, mom. I’m not going to be coming home.”

  “What do you mean – not coming home?” the voice became strident. “Of course you’re coming home! Give me the address where you’re staying, right now! What is the name of the hotel?” the voice verged on a scream.

  “I’ll email it to you. Love you both!” he hit the end button.

  Vanessa laughed. “I don’t know, Phillip, she sounded pretty insistent.”

  “Yeah, I know. That’s my mother,” he sighed.

  His mobile rang and he looked at the number, shaking his head. “Not answering it,” he said flatly.

  “Are you sure that’s wise?”

  “No, but I’m still not going to answer it.”

  “That’s fine,” she shrugged.

  He took a sip of his wine. “Regale me with more history. That should take my mind off things. What was Rome like? Did you see chariot races?”

  Vanessa nodded and smiled. “Chariot races and gladiator fights. All the exciting things,” she decided to leave out some of the more distasteful events such as people being fed to wild animals.

  “How did you survive? I mean, I can’t imagine you having a regular job or anything.”

  She grinned and winked at him. “I gambled a lot and, almost inevitably, won.”

  Phillip laughed. “A woman of all trades, eh?”

  “Not all, but enough to keep me comfortable.”

  “Where to, then?”

  “Britain. There really wasn’t much going on in the Middle Ages. More dreary than you might think. Lots of wars and a few plagues. “I did meet someone at a small dinner party at the end of the eighteenth century – you might recognize the name.”

  “Who?”

  “Jane Austen.”

  “What!”

  “I thought that might appeal. An absolutely lovely woman. Extremely intelligent and incredibly witty,” she smiled at the memory.

  Phillip’s mobile buzzed and he picked it up. It was a text message.

  “Oh, joy,” he sighed.

  “What is it?”

  “My parents are flying into Heathrow the day after tomorrow.”

  Vanessa laughed loudly and actually snorted once.

  “Oh! Yeah! You may think it’s funny but you don’t know what they can be like! Especially my mother.”

  Vanessa was compressing her lips together to control her laughter. She recovered after a moment. “I suspect your mother is the stereotypical American mother when it comes to her son. Protective and, at the same time, controlling. Find out when their flight arrives and I’ll have a car sent to pick them up and bring them out.”

  He sighed and shook his head. “I don’t know how I’m going to deal with this.”

  “Just be yourself – relax,” she raised her eyebrows. “Would you like me to charm them?”

  “I know you’re delightfully charming, Vanessa, but . . .”

  “No, I mean,” she extended her arm out and switched to a Dracula accent. “Looook into my eyes.” After many, many years, she felt that her sense of humour was actually returning to her.

  He laughed. “God, no! Thanks for the amusing thought. Wait! You can do that kind of thing?”

  “Of course! Stoker didn’t miss the mark all the time.”

  “You didn’t do that . . .” he eyed her with suspicion.

  “To you?” she smiled and shook her head. “No, there was no need and I was thoroughly enjoying the hunt.”

  “That’s a relief!” he frowned. “I think.”

  Two days later, Vanessa confronted Phillip in the bedroom. “They’ll be here in an hour, dear. Take off your shirt.”

  “Huh? Why?”

  She held out the shirt’s replacement.

  “A turtleneck? I don’t . . .” then the realization hit him quickly. “Oh, right. My neck.”

/>   “I do try to hit the same spots every time but I’m a bit off on occasion. The fang marks are rather noticeable. Perhaps we should back off for a couple of weeks and let them completely heal.”

  “Hell no, that would be like taking away an addict’s crack!”

  She took a deep breath. “Ok, I’ll just start coming at it from a different angle to let the current wounds heal up a bit.”

  They walked downstairs to the drawing room.

  “Want some wine to take the edge off?” Vanessa asked.

  “Oh, God, yes! I think a bottle should do the trick.”

  She poured a glass and handed it to him, smiling.

  “Aren’t you nervous at all?” he frowned.

  “Me? No,” she shook her head. “Why would I be?”

  “They’re going to try to talk me into going back to New York.”

  “That’s not going to happen. Do not weaken in your resolve. Stand fast,” she flashed him a quick smile and then put her arm around him. “Everything is going to be just fine, darling. Do try to relax.”

  She cocked her head. “They’re early.”

  Phillip and Vanessa walked to the front door, opened it and stepped through. John and Mildred were staring at the building, stunned. Made of stone and reflecting a golden cast in the sunset, it was three hundred yards wide and three floors high, replete with turrets, gables, and innumerable chimneys. Smoke poured from several of them.

  Vanessa immediately stepped forward with a smile, being careful to keep it sufficiently restrained so as to conceal her canines. She extended her hand. “Welcome to our home, Mr and Mrs Henderson. I’m delighted to meet you both. I’m Vanessa.” Phillip’s mother took Vanessa’s hand uneasily but his father seemed fairly comfortable.

  “Please, call me John,” Phillip’s father smiled widely and he nodded toward his wife. “And this is Mildred.” He looked at Vanessa and thought ‘good work, Phil!’. Phillips mother didn’t miss the turn of phrase that Vanessa used: ‘our home’.

  As they walked in through the doors, Phillip’s parents were turning this way and that, trying to take it all in.

  “Please. Come through,” she ushered them into the drawing room.

  “It’s very cold here in London,” Mildred said in her characteristic New York accent, “do you have central heating?”

  “I’m afraid not, but we do have a lot of wood. Please sit,” she said with a smile, gesturing toward the hearth. “Can I offer you drinks? John, you look like you might be a single malt man.”

  His eyebrows went up and he smiled. “Very perceptive! Thank you very much. Neat, please.”

  “Mildred?”

  “The woman frowned. Would a martini be possible?”

  “Of course. Vodka or gin?”

  “Vodka, please.”

  Vanessa handed John his drink and began making Mildred’s. “I think you’ll like this. It’s Riga – pre-war.”

  Time to separate these two, she thought as she handed the drink to Phillip’s mother and leaned toward John and spoke in a quiet voice.

  “Being an American, John, is it possible that you like guns?”

  “I do. I wish the laws weren’t so oppressive in New York.”

  “I think I may have a treat for you,” she smiled and inclined her head toward the door at the side of the room. “Join me?”

  As he stood up, Vanessa looked at Phillip and his mother. “Please excuse us for a moment.”

  John followed her out the doorway into a hall.

  Mildred spoke. “This is nice,” she winced and crooked her finger at her son as Vanessa led John off. “What’s all this about not coming back to New York?” she hissed.

  “I’m happy here, mom. Happier than I’ve ever been in my life!”

  “Why? Because it’s a big fancy house with no heat?”

  “No, because this is where the love of my life happens to be and you can be sure that, if she lived in Antarctica, that’s where I’d be right now.”

  “Oh, you love this woman? How old is she?”

  “She’s thirty-five,” he lied, “and, yes, I love her.”

  “And what does she do?”

  “For a living?”

  “Yes. What does she do for work?”

  “Nothing,” he sighed. “She’s a countess, mom.”

  “Oh! A countess! All hoity-toity!” Mildred made a show of not being impressed.

  Down a hallway, the conversation between John and Vanessa was flowing along different lines.

  “You can understand when parents worry about their children, can’t you, Vanessa?”

  “Of course,” she nodded.

  “Forgive my asking this but . . . do you love my son?”

  She stared at him, her face serious, and decided not to lie. “I am incredibly fond of Phillip.”

  He spread his arms. “That’s all I need to know. He’s incredibly lucky to have you.”

  Vanessa smiled. “Thank you, John. I’m very lucky to have him.”

  With her auditory senses, she could clearly hear the conversation as it transpired between Phillip and his mother.

  “Mom, I’m going to be quite blunt with you. If you continue to disparage Vanessa, I’m going to ask you to leave.”

  “I’m not leaving without you.”

  Vanessa and John entered the wine cellar.

  “This is some stock you have,” he gestured at the racks of wine.

  “Thank you but I didn’t bring you down here to look at wine. As you know, England’s gun laws are even more restrictive than New York’s.”

  “I’ve heard.”

  She walked to the back of the cellar and pulled back a curtain to reveal a large, stainless steel door.

  “A bank vault?”

  “Not quite,” she pressed in a series of numbers on the keypad at the side and the heavy door swung open. Fluorescent lights came on.

  “Christ on a bicycle!” his jaw dropped.

  The vault was some fifty feet deep and thirty feet in width. The entire length of it was lined with weapons. Firearms of every type and kind. John’s eyes were like saucers.

  “The next row over has more, along with a variety of edged weapons,” Vanessa nodded.

  “You’re ready for some kind of apocalypse. This is amazing!” he walked down one side and back up the other. He pointed at one. “Is that what I think it is?”

  “It’s an M134 minigun. Quite the fun thing! I’ve always felt it’s best to be prepared for anything,” she smiled as she held out earmuffs to him and pressed a button on a bare point in the wall next to her. At the end of the room, a target rolled down. Walking to the side, she picked up a pistol and handed it to him.

  “Beretta 92 FS with a suppressor. It’s full auto,” she gestured toward the target. “Have a go.”

  Twenty minutes later they were making their way back upstairs to the drawing room. “Phillip doesn’t know about the weapons room. I wasn’t sure how he might react to it, what with being from New York and so young.”

  “To tell the truth, I don’t know,” John shrugged and shook his head. “The subject of guns has never come up between us.

  They entered the drawing room and she spoke up.

  “Phillip, I wonder if I might have a word with your mother . . . alone?”

  “Fine with me. I’ve had enough arguing,” he said in disgust as he got up. Vanessa locked eyes with him and tilted her head toward his father.

  “C’mon, dad.”

  Vanessa sat down next to Mildred who was staring at the fire.

  “Look at me, Mildred.”

  The woman didn’t move. She just continued staring.

  “Look at me, Mildred,” Vanessa hissed and Phillip’s mother turned. They locked gazes and, after about three seconds, Vanessa began speaking.

  “You think it’s wonderful, this life that your son has chosen to live here in England. You have no negative feelings at all about me. You’re delighted that Phillip and I have found each other and you will be sweet, kind and
accepting for the remainder of your stay. Do you understand?”

  Mildred slowly nodded, her eyes slightly glazed over. “I understand.”

  “Good,” she stood, “now let’s go join the men.”

  Mildred got to her feet and Vanessa cocked an ear to pick up what was being said between Phillip and his father.

  “I don’t know how, son, but I think you somehow won life’s lottery. She seems very sweet and . . . good God, she’s a beautiful woman! Never let go of that one.”

  Phillip laughed. “She is both, dad.”

  Vanessa smiled. “I think dinner should just about be ready,” she announced and Mildred, smiling, went over to sit next to John.

  “Oh, God, what did you do to her, Vanessa?” Phillip whispered.

  She shrugged and matched his voice. “I told her if she didn’t straighten up and be civil, I would take her down to the dungeon and rack her until her screams shattered the glassware.”

  His jaw dropped and his eyes went wide.

  “Oh good God, Phillip, I’m joking. We just had a nice chat, that’s all.”

  “You did that Dracula thing on her, didn’t you?” he said accusingly.

  “Yup,” she responded lightly with a smile, popping the ‘p’.

  Dinner went quite smoothly and Mildred seemed to have become very congenial.

  “I apologize for the primitive heating methods we use. Upgrading to central air would be horrifically expensive in a place of this size,” Vanessa sighed.

  “Personally, I like it! There’s nothing quite as nice as a blazing fire keeping you toasty,” John responded with a smile.

  “You must be quite wealthy,” Mildred shot in.

  “Not really. When my husband died, I inherited the estate and a modest trust to keep it running. Tourists were coming through the home a few times a week and that helped with the occasional shortfall but I’ve decided to discontinue that. I have my weaknesses though. I recently dented the funds to buy a Porsche turbo-s. My bad.”

  “Oh, God, can I see it before we leave?” John’s eyes went wide.

  “Of course!” she smiled. “I’ll take you for a spin if you’d like.”

  “I’d love it!”

  Mildred shot her husband a ‘look’ and Vanessa gave the woman a warning glance. John’s mind was elsewhere, imagining being in such a car, sitting next to this gorgeous creature.