Chapter 247 - Final Arrangements part 4

He had awakened, as most nosferatu do, the moment the sun vanished beneath Liege's encircling hills. Disoriented, alone—expecting to wake up, as he had his entire life, a normal mortal man—he sat upright with a shout, staring at the white, ossified flesh of his hands.

It's quite understandable. I still have nightmares from time to time. Or wake from some poignant dream of my mortal life, thinking I am still a man of flesh and blood. It is worse the first few years after the transformation, before time scrubs away the last of our mortal instincts. Those first few years are when most newly made vampires—those who should never have been given the living blood—destroy themselves out of remorse or madness.

Lukas's shout was quite shocking-- for both of us.

Mr. Lipsky retreated to the door, moving impossibly fast for a man of his advanced age. "What is that?" he snapped, yanking on the doorknob. He didn't look frightened, just startled. Startled and suspicious. Mortals who service the clientele he serviced must be very cautious—and have very quick reflexes. If I hadn't locked the door he'd have been halfway down the corridor already.

Before I could soothe my guest, Lukas came shambling down the hallway, naked as the day he was born, head down, hair hanging in his face. He was panting like a living man who'd just finished running a marathon. He stared down at his hands as he careened from wall to wall.

"It is just my fledgling," I said to the lawyer. "He's only been a blood drinker a few days now. Don't be afraid. He won't harm you. He's just disoriented."

Lipsky dropped his hands from the doorknob. He straightened his jacket with a couple brusque yanks, glaring at my vampire child.

"Lukas," I called.

"What did I let you do to me…?" Lukas muttered in German, tottering into the parlor.

"Lukas!"

My acolyte's head snapped up as if I'd jerked a string. His eyes were red-rimmed, his mouth slack. Those rheumy eyes shifted to Lipsky, then narrowed. All the muscles in his body went taut. He grinned, the tips of his fangs projecting out over his bottom lip. It was not too difficult to read his mind: Dinner is served!

"Lukas, this is our guest, Mr. Lipsky," I said, speaking as if to a child. "I told you he was coming to see me today. Do you remember?"

"Lipsky," he sighed, tongue wriggling over the word as if he were tasting it. Then he frowned, the muscles in his stocky body going lax. "Ah… the lawyer."

"Yes, the attorney. Would you mind putting some clothes on? Mr. Lipsky must think we're the worst kind of vampire trash."

Lipsky glanced in my direction, but he didn't contradict me.

Lukas grinned insolently, looking from the attorney to me and back again. My acolyte is a handsome brute, not very tall, but powerfully muscular, with a heavy, angular jaw and lush features. Full lips. Heavy-lidded eyes. The Strix had bleached his skin as white as bone. He looked like a marble sculpture standing in my parlor. Aries, the Greek god of war, perhaps. He flicked his raven black bangs out of his eyes, standing boldly with his hands upon his hipbones, fingers angled toward his pendulous cock. Finally, he laughed. "Ja, sicher."

I apologized to the attorney as my fledgling vanished down the hallway.

"It's quite all right," Lipsky said. He looked as if he wanted to ask me something. Probably what in the world I was thinking making an immortal of such an obviously irredeemable human being. Or perhaps he didn't wonder that at all, and it was just my own guilt whispering in my ear. 

Lukas returned almost immediately.

"Is this better?" he asked, stuffing his legs into a pair of leather pants. He tucked away his privates, buttoned his fly halfway up, and crossed the room to flop down on the sofa. He grinned up at Lipsky hungrily.

The attorney was unflappable. He introduced himself to the fledgling vampire, taking a card from his inner coat pocket. "If you ever require our services," Lipsky said. Lukas looked at the card with a sneer and tossed it aside.

I hustled the attorney toward the door. The way Lukas was staring at the man was making me decidedly anxious. I'd never let the fiend harm a guest in my home, of course, but it would be terribly embarrassing if Lukas lost control of himself and I was forced to restrain him.

Lipsky resisted at the door, opening his mouth to speak, and I released him to smack my palm against my forehead. "Ah, yes! I am so sorry! I nearly forgot!"

The boon!

As Lukas watched, suddenly intrigued, I used my eyeteeth to gash open a vein in my wrist. My flesh heals almost instantaneously, but a tiny globe of glistening black blood welled up from the wound.

I held my wrist out to the lawyer, holding it steady so the blood didn't trickle down the side.

"In gratitude for the services you have rendered," I said gravely. The old ritual, but spoken sincerely.

"I accept this boon in payment for my silence," he replied. He seized my arm then and slid his tongue across my wrist.

I glanced at Lukas, mildly embarrassed, as the lawyer suckled on my forearm greedily. Lipsky made a soft sound of pleasure. A sexual sound. After a moment or two, I extricated myself as gently as possible from the mortal, endeavoring to hide my distaste.

"That is enough," I said.

Lipsky swayed, eyes closed, mouth agape. He ran his tongue along eyeteeth that were just the tiniest bit too long. He smacked his lips, shivered, then opened his eyes and grinned at me. The expression looked quite perverse on his face.

"Pardon me," he said hoarsely. He cleared his throat. "Your blood… it is quite potent… It's somewhat overpowering."

"Yes, I know."

"Well, I, uh… I suppose I should be going."

"Good night, Mr. Lipsky."

"Yes, good night" the man said distractedly. I opened the door for him and he tottered into the corridor. "I'll return tomorrow evening with your protégé's documentation," he promised.

"That will be fine."

I started to shut the door.

"Oh, wait!" Lipsky called out.

"Yes?"

Lipsky leaned toward me conspiratorially. "Is there a particular name your friend would like to have?"

I relayed the question to Lukas.

My fledgling thought about it. I could tell that he was taking the matter seriously for once. He flicked his fangs with the tip of his tongue. "My mother's maiden name was Eberhardt," he said finally. "And I've always liked the name Rodolpho. It means wolf. I'd like my new name to be Rodolpho Eberhardt."

"Got that?" I asked the lawyer.

He was scribbling onto a pocket-sized notebook. "Spell it."

Lukas sidled to the door, catching me between the two men. He spelled both names for the attorney.

"Want to suck some of my blood now?" Lukas leered.

"All right, that's enough," I said, pushing Lukas back into the apartment. "Good night, Mr. Lipsky. I'll see you tomorrow evening."

Lipsky waved, sauntering dreamily away.

I shut the door. Turned to Lukas.

"What was that all about?" Lukas laughed. "I thought the old bastard was going to cream in his pants! Why did you let him drink your blood?"

I sighed wearily, then explained the ritual to him. I thought I had already told him about it. Perhaps not.

He was impressed. Lukas walked to the end of the sofa and plucked the attorney's business card from the floor. He read it again, then carefully placed it on the coffee table. "Might need that someday," he said. "So, have you taken care of your final arrangements?"

"Yes, for the most part," I answered. "In two weeks time, a minor nobleman named Gaspar Valessi, a man who never existed, will die of natural causes while vacationing in Germany. His estate, which is extensive, shall be divided among those he cherished most in the world, as well as a variety of worthwhile charities."

"What about me?" Lukas demanded. He said it like a man accustomed to slight.

"I have designated a small portion of my fortune to be deposited into an account in your name. Your new name, I should say."

"How small?"

"Twenty million euros."

He did not comment, but I could tell that he was pleasantly surprised. Twenty million euros was nothing to me, but to him, a child of the slums, it was almost unimaginable wealth.

There was a part of me that was loath to give him any money, but I had pondered upon it and decided that he would cause a lot less trouble if he were rich. Squandering his newfound wealth would keep him occupied—at least for a little while. And when he had exhausted his modest inheritance… well, I'm certain it wouldn't take long for my sociopathic fledgling to run afoul of a powerful immortal… one who was a lot less tolerant of youthful folly.

"It will get you started," I said.

Lukas nodded, eyes far away. I could practically see the fantasies swirling in his head. The bright shining baubles he could purchase, like children's toys, the debauches he could fund, the depravities that only the rich can afford. It would not take him long to burn through it all. 

Then his face crumpled and he doubled over. His thick lips split back from his teeth. Even from the other side of the room, I could hear his stomach snarling.

"Fuck, that hurts!" he hissed. He looked at me, face contorted with pain. "I need to eat!"

"All right," I soothed him. "Just relax. We'll feed early tonight. Only, try not to get any blood on your clothes this time. We need to take a photograph of you after we have fed."