Chapter 152 - Interlude part 4

My captive was dozing when I returned to his chamber, his body sprawled across the bed. He was sweating profusely, the fitted sheet untucked from one corner of the mattress and crumpled beneath him.

A restless sleeper.

I should think of him by name, I said to myself, if I intend to set upon this course.

I was reluctant to do it. A name is a terribly intimate thing to wield.

Every culture has its superstitions: that a name can bring good fortune or bad, that it can be used to curse or bless, heal or strike dead. The ancient Hebrews believed that a man's name was his soul. Even God bends his ear when called upon by name, or so some men believe. And yet the most powerful invocation is the intimate one, the lover crying out a partner's name amid the throes of passion, or whispering it lovingly, twined in compliments like the stems of hothouse flowers.

What responsibilities must I assume then, in the utterance of this monster's name?

Lover?

God?

My lips moved soundlessly: "Lukas Jaeger." 

Jaeger meant "huntsman", an apt name for such a deadly human predator. An amoral beast-- child pornographer, rapist, murderer. His name gave testimony to the caprice of the fates. What man, woman or deity could have chosen a better name for this creature, or foreseen that our paths would one day intersect? It seemed preordained.

I stood over him, a silent revenant. Cold. White. Motionless. I examined him thoughtfully, looking for any flaw which might cause the Strix to reject him.

A stout man, his body was dense with muscle, fleshy and powerful, his legs like the trunks of two trees, his arms thick, biceps bulging, even at rest. He was a modern barbarian, with thick black hair and a tangled mat of curly hair on his chest and stomach. Square, rough-hewn facial features, handsome despite their severity. A smattering of moles and freckles. Birthmark on the meaty part of his left hip.

I opened my senses wider, probing his body more thoroughly. Diving through the surface, searching for defects or the telltales of disease.

His flesh was warm and pink, the whooshing of his heart strong and steady. I could not detect any odors which might indicate cancerous or malfunctioning tissues. He had no infestations of fungal, bacterial or viral organisms. His lungs did not wheeze. His intestines gurgled efficiently. He was the epitome of good health, a living indictment of karma.

What a monster he would make!

I envisioned him cold and white and eternal, and shuddered at the thought.

Dare I do this? Was I so desperate?

"Lukas," I whispered.

He lurched on the bed, coming awake with a cry. I watched with some amusement as he scrambled away from me, his chain slithering after him with a metallic purring sound. It was only when I noticed his blank stare, his head jerking to and fro, that I realized he was blind. It was too dark in the room for him to see me, though I could see him easily enough.

I flicked the light switch with the tip of my finger. The incandescent globes in the ceiling fixture swept the dark away. The tiny metal filaments inside the glass bulbs hummed.

I hate that sound. It permeates this modern era: the hum of electrons sweeping through molded metal conduits.

My captive—Lukas! – blinked at me like a mole. "Oh, it's you," he said, but his muscles did not relax. He remained in a semi-crouched position on the opposite side of the bed.

"The Strix may reject you," I said without preamble.

"What?"

"If I were to… attempt the thing you proposed to me this morning," I said, "the Strix might reject you. The living black blood which animates our flesh does not always accept a new host body. There is sometimes an… incompatibility. We have never discovered why this occurs, nor can we predict if or when it may transpire. If the living blood finds you unsuitable, you will die a slow and painful death. The Strix will devour you from within. I have seen it occur many times."

"How often does it happen?" he asked. "One in ten? One in a hundred?"

I shrugged. "Somewhere between the former and the latter. Vampires like myself-- the true immortals, I mean to say—have more success making new blood drinkers than our short-lived kin. In that you are most fortunate, but it is never a sure thing, even with a maker as old and powerful as myself. The results are always… wildly unpredictable."

"And if I survive?"

"You may become utterly invulnerable, like me. An Eternal. You may live for several millennia. Or your altered physiology may begin to deteriorate in a few hundred years."

"What's the worst case scenario, besides instant death?" he asked.

"You may become a mindless, bloodthirsty ghoul. If that is the outcome, I would be compelled to destroy you. The mindless ones are not allowed to exist. If I did not do it, my vampire brothers and sisters would do it the moment they laid eyes on you. We have an instinctive hatred for the failed ones, the ghouls. My kindred would destroy you, and then they would hunt me down and punish me for allowing you to live." I smiled. "Or perhaps I should say, they would try to punish me. I doubt they would succeed, unless I allowed it."

"Punish you how?" Lukas asked, his eyes narrowing. He had relaxed, had moved to sit on the edge of his bed.

He did not seem overly excited by the prospect of immortality. Not outwardly anyway. If I listened close, however, I could hear his heart beating more rapidly. I could hear the churning of his stomach.

"There are ways even one such as I might be punished. If I were to do something sufficiently outrageous, my brethren might be goaded to attack me en mass. I cannot be killed, but I can be overwhelmed, and then they might Divide me. It is how the Eternals are punished. But I will tell you more about that later. In this modern era, such a thing is not very likely to happen. Vampires are very rare in this day and age. You might even say we are an endangered species. We tend to be solitary creatures as well. Group endeavors are a very uncommon occurrence."

"So you do have laws," he said.

"In a manner of speaking, yes, but there are not nearly enough of us to enforce them in any practical way."

"No vampire covens? Like in the movies?"

"Our social groups tend to be very small. Two, sometimes three will travel together for a while. It usually occurs when one of us makes a new blood drinker, but the parental bond sours quickly. Sometimes it lasts a few decades. Sometimes even a few hundred years. Never much longer. Can you imagine being someone's companion for such a length of time?"

"No."

"If they do not part when the bond withers, any affection they may have had toward one another will turn swiftly to resentment, and then, inevitably, to bitter hatred. Even my own vampire children have turned against me once or twice, and I have never been a cruel or domineering maker." I shrugged. "It is simply human nature."

"Familiarity breeds contempt."

"Yes, and despite the changes that are wrought upon our physical bodies, our souls remain human. That is, perhaps, our greatest curse."

"That you still love?"

"And hate. And feel loneliness. All our human emotions—despair, envy, joy, disdain—immortality traps the human soul like an insect in amber."

I watched my captive killer absorbing all that I had said to him.

"So tell me… do you still want this curse? Do you want to live forever?"

He nodded-- slowly at first, uncertainly-- then more decisively, his shoulders squaring with his resolve, his eyes wide and sober. "Yes," he said.

"Even though the attempt may kill you? Slowly, painfully?"

"Yes, I want you to make me immortal. I've seen what you can do. I want your long life. I want your powers."

"Even though you must feed on the blood of the living?"

He laughed.

"And what are you willing to give me in exchange?" I demanded.

He thought I was implying sex again. I could see it in his eyes. The way they flicked down to my groin and back up. His muscles went rigid at the thought. I could tell the idea was distasteful to him, but I could also see that he would do it, if that is what I desired of him. 

"Would you please stop thinking I want to have sexual intercourse with you?" I said, exasperated. "The idea of being intimate with you is revolting."

His face flushed and he looked away, the corner of his lip curling up on one side.

"I may decide to make you what I am," I said. "I have not completely made up my mind whether to kill you or make you immortal, but if I do, I would require one act of fealty from you. I am not ready to tell you what it is yet. I do not know if you are even capable of it, but I would bind you with one promise, and if you fail to carry it out to the best of your abilities, I will bring your vampiric existence to an abrupt and premature end. Do you understand?"

"You want me to promise to do something, and you won't even tell me what it is?"

"In exchange for a chance at immortality," I nodded.

He grinned humorlessly. "That's an awful big condition to put on it."

"It's a very rare offer."

He scratched his nose, then shrugged. "Sure. Why not?"

I started around the bed toward him.

"Now? You're going to do it now?" he squawked, scrambling away from me, his eyes bulging in sudden fear.

"Don't be ridiculous," I said. "We still have many things to discuss. Now give me your hand—your other hand, idiot!" I slipped the key to his manacle from my pants pocket and released him. As he rubbed his abraded wrist, free of his bonds, I stepped away from him and said, "I release you, Lukas Jaeger. You are free. Go. Do what you will tonight, but return to my home tomorrow at dusk so we can continue our discourse. I would like to finish telling you my story before I make you an immortal. It is the only way you will understand the payment I shall exact from you."

"I have no clothes," he said, looking toward the frosted windows. It was snowing outside. It had been snowing since I awakened.

"I have clean clothes laid out for you on the counter in the bathroom. There are fresh towels and toiletries as well. Make certain you avail yourself of them both. You stink."

He nodded. He gave me a wide berth as he moved to the door, afraid I would snatch him up and devour him, I suppose. Perhaps he suspected I was toying with him, teasing him with the prospect of freedom, of immortality, before cruelly taking his life. It was probably something he would have derived great enjoyment from were our roles reversed, but I had no such intentions.

"We have brokered a deal, Lukas Jaeger," I reminded him as his hand fell on the doorknob. "If you do not return to this penthouse tomorrow night, I will hunt you… and there will be no bargaining for your life when I sweep you into my embrace… no promise you can make to keep me from sending you to the afterlife, if such a thing exists."

He nodded, his back to me. "I understand," he said. "Don't worry. I'll be here when you wake up."

I was sitting in the parlor, listening to "Gloria" from "Mass for Four Voices" on the phonograph player when he exited the bathroom. He stopped in the middle of the parlor, waiting for some sign of dismissal from me. The clothes I had purchased for him were a bit snug, but he looked presentable. Quite handsome, actually. He would be a beautiful, perfect beast of a vampire. His hair, still wet, fell across his brow like the glossy black wings of a crow.

Aside from a couple fading bruises, he was none the worse for wear.

"Your wallet is on the table," I said. "I put some extra money in it for you."

He retrieved his wallet, flipped through the bills, stuffed it into his back pocket.

"I suggest you indulge whatever mortal vices you hold dear," I said. "Get drunk. Or high. Whatever you will. It will be the last time you are able to do such a thing. And you will miss it when the deed is done. Believe me."

He nodded, his face very grave.

"Your coat. It is cold outside."

He shrugged into his jacket.

"Where do you plan to go?" I asked.

I was merely curious.

"I don't know. Home, I suppose. For a little while. Then maybe the pubs. Or a club. I might even hire a prostitute." He grinned. "Or two."

I nodded. Gestured for him to leave.

He went to the door. Hesitated. When I did not rise to attack him, he let out his breath and stepped into the corridor.

"I will return," he murmured, and then he shut the door.