The Light of All That's Dark
VDC
Prologue
Such sweet memories. The way she would swoon in his arms, as her veins opened to him. Sweet blood would flood his mouth, sating aching veins. And then he would leave her body for whatever convenient authority made excuses to the coroner. Maybe it was only a matter of an old debt, but dammit, it was good to be back in New York
2002 NYC
There was nothing unusual about tonight. In fact, it was on its way to being a very good night. Alexander Lucard reclined against a luxuriant leather couch, admiring his unwilling hostess' decorative taste. He smiled cruelly at the woman...nay, girl, sitting across from him. He hadn't bothered to wipe the trickle of blood from his evening apertif (which happened to be the doorman) adding a sinister tone to his patently amused countenance. The girl, barely more then eighteen, regarded him, with a small sneer playing around her lips. She was impeccably dressed, he noted, her slender form encased in a dark grey business suit. Cold dark eyes observed him from behind designer glasses. Aria Constantine was no stranger to illegal dealings, a trait she inherited from her father. However, with her hotel's doorman lying in the lobby, she was left unnerved.
"What is it you want?" she demanded quietly, wisely keeping her disturbance at the presence of this beautiful and dangerous stranger to herself. Lucard watched the dimming light play over her starkly beautiful features, casting shadows that made her seem older then she was, but made her dark slicked back hair shine like a tired halo.
"As I said before, it is a matter of an old debt, Ms. Constantine," he said, the smirking smile still playing across his handsome visage. If Aria was surprised by his cultured, accented English, she didn't show it.
"It seems," he continued, malicious grey eyes searching into her own smoky brown ones, "that I have outlived my end of the bargain. With your father, and predecessor, to whom I owe all declarations of legitimacy here, and elsewhere."
"He provided you with false identification?" Straight to the point. Wonderful.
"Among other things," came the coy reply. Aria crossed her arms, appearing for all intents and purposes, unimpressed.
"When was this?"
"1949."
Her jaw dropped. However, Aria quickly regained her composure.
"That is blatantly impossible," was her quick, businesslike reply. Lucard chuckled softly, light shimmering off his golden hair as he stood suddenly, an imposing figure in his black tuxedo.
"Oh, I assure you it's entirely true."
Aria stood to face him, one eyebrow arched.
"You don't look a day over thirty."
"Looks can be deceiving, Ms. Constantine," said Lucard as his tongue lashed out to lick the blood trailing from the corner of that hovering, ever present smirk. Aria was in the middle of taking a step backwards when his arm snaked around her waist. Her eyes widened as it registered. She was in the steely grip of something inhuman. And from the looks of it...inhumane, as well. Amused malice sparkled in Lucard's golden eyes. His tongue flicked out to caress long white fangs.
"How?" Aria gasped, staring forward into his face, the handsome visage of this thing, slowly caressing her throat with his lips.
"It's a long long story...I won't start at the beginning, merely in my..." he paused, enjoying the little 'ah' sound she made as he nipped softly at her tender flesh-"involvement with your father."
Aria fought to remain calm.
"You mentioned a debt?"
She felt his lips curl into a smile against her skin, and shuddered. He released her suddenly, and she fell ungracefully back onto her leather couch. She felt her eyes lock with Lucard's, those cold neutral grey eyes.
"Quick thinking. Literate. Cool head. I could use you."
"Not for what I previously imagined, I'm sure," she half gasped, massaging her throat. He gave her a not-too-pleasant grin, then leaned over the kitchen bar and ripped the phone from the wall.
"In the unlikely event you try to call anyone, namely the police." The* amber was fading from his eyes. His demeanor, however remained the same. Aria watched him carefully. Watched his eyes watch her not unlike a cat watching a mouse.
"Do you really want to hear the story?"
Aria barely nodded. Lucard steepled his long white fingers, the tips just brushing his lips, the nearly omnipresent smirk now having melted back into a thoughtful facade.
"My adventures here in New York would have begun a year earlier. I was called Lex. Alexi Marsabrenov, to be precise. As I was registered on Ellis Island, a Russian immigrant. The threat of Communism had started. I thought the whole thing nothing short of hilarious."
Part 2
1945 Normandy
At this point, I never would have thought I would end up in New York. The city of my dreams. From oppressed Russia to here. Romania, my lovely Romania was derelict from war. Russia had been, I suppose, the next best choice. Europe was not the place to be. How sick I was of this whole damned war. Selling myself as a mercinary on both sides. Dealing with the failure of D-Day, and of course, the huge sucess of D-Day. The smell alone was enough to drive a vampire MAD...That someone didn't drag me away and put a few more bullet holes in me. I drank in rivers of blood. Rivers! Messy corpses so ravaged that one could not distinguish a dead American from a dead Nazi. Well, you couldn't tell the difference alive, either. They were all boys here. All cattle in line for the slaughter. Innocent in death. My only enemy was safely imprisoned. Certainly, I could gorge, but I was still sick of his war. I was bleeding profusely from three bullet wounds, the worst, above my heart. I couldn't let myself suffer from exanguination, so I slowed my heartbeat, and hid myself in an abandoned firing blind to give me time to heal. I must have been a frightening sight. Hair and face covered in blood...I was giddy. Ready to go back out there into the chaos. What of it if they saw me tearing up soldiers? They were already dead!
But the vampire in me overruled my killer instincts. I was the devil in the shadows. I may institutionalise on this madness, but to entrance myself with it would be fatal. I peered out of the blind window, and watched as a man was cut in half by machine gun fire.
"Heh..." I watched as he comically flopped over, torso falling forward. It gave a little jump, and the man's voice gargled, and then air rushed out of his lungs, collapsing them, making his heart sag. He became instantly silent. I reached through the window and pulled the man's arm to me. I bit the cork on my flask and drained the soldier's blood into it. I'd need it later.
The cliff. That was the target. Of course, get up that cliff, and the Nazis would lose their edge. So brilliantly simple. The invasion itself had gone against all military logic, and that is the precise reason it was working. Who knew the Americans were the new powers in the world? Certainly not Hitler, nor any of his enemies. I adjusted my stately Naval uniform, and debated a course of action. I'd stolen it from a French officer named L'Arc. So for now, I was L'Arc. A shell exploded two feet from my little gunner bunker. I realised it was time to move. I let myself dissolve into bat shape and rose above the slaughter. German soldiers were tumbling from the bluff. Cannon fire flashed on the dark horizon. I reformed on the foot of the cliff nearest to me. Then, a mortar shell flew at me from above. A split second warning. A boy-soldier beside me shoved me hard into the cliff face, saving me from "certain death".
"Careful there, Pierre!" he yelled over the din, voice betraying a New York accent.
"Thank you," I said, nodding my head numbly. After all, I owed this mortal my life. I glanced at his military tags. 'Constantine'. I would remember that name. And I'd be certain to pay the boy back properly afterwards.
After a few hours we'd cleaned out the last of the Enemy. I followed Constantine with my eyes, watching him limp back to one of the export craft. I took to the air, escaping D-Day. But of course, not the memories. I kept those.
1949 New York
Following the powers that be, I went to New York. The majesty of money was here, in this powerful new capital of the world.
I'd forsaken my bloody uniform for a superbly cut black suit, jacket and fedora. I leaned against the wall of the subway station, waiting for Jack Constantine to disenbark from the train car. Glancing at my Rolex, I noted the time, then glanced back up as the handsome dark haired Greek stepped onto the platform, illuminated by the wan humming lights. He did a doubletake. I nodded my head.
"General...General...ah..L'Arc?" - I winced at his pronunciation- "the frog that was about to..with the mortar shell-"
I cut him off with a wave of my leather gloved hand. He was dressed in a dark blue suit, the average New York stock broker looking type.
"I am not French, Mr. Constantine. My name is Alexi Marlsabrenov. I tracked you down. I thought perhaps you might like me to repay my debt to you."
"Ah, no, I only did what any guy would...say, why were you dressed in a frenchie's uniform? And you still look...young,"
"Perhaps we should walk," I offered shortly, arching an eyebrow. He looked sideways at me.
"It's a long story," I conceded. We strode up the stairs onto busy Queen Street.
"Times change. People change, and so do names. But spirit keeps me young and healthy, if you like. French only suited me for a time. Russian. English. I can make so many oppurtunities open to you," I said as we dodged around meandering business class types. Constantine stopped, and stared at me.
"I don't want your money, Mr...ah.."
"Marlsabrenov"
"I mean-"
"Consider for a moment, my good man. I offer you not only money, but a new life. A better life, indeed," Constantine bit his lip.
"Mr. Marlsabrenov, I'm very happy with my life-"
"As a two-bit United States customs secretary?"
"How did you know that?"
"I know many things, Mr. Constantine"
"What...exactly do you want me to do?"
Now he was interested. Now I had him curled in my fist.
"Become my immigration advisor. Tactician, if you like. The fabricator of my current fancy. In the United States of course. I have other people for other countries."
We came to a bus-stop. He sat down on the bench, and looked up at me.
"And money.."
I smiled a steely smile.
"Would become no object to you. Here's my card. Think on it," I said, drawing out a card emblazoned with a black rook chesspiece. From then on, Jack Constantine was the man who made me legally invisible. Until we came to a time when money alone, business trips and international capitalism made it no longer an issue. I had settled in a tiny country between Germany and France. Constatine never saw me again. Only heard my voice. I couldn't have the boy notice I wasn't aging through the sixty or so years that he knew me. And he was amazingly spry for a long time as well. At the very least, he didn't outlive his usefulness. I meant to make him immortal. I remembered that day very well. And I always pay my debts.
Aria bit her lip, and stared at the creature who posessed the form of a man. Lucard watched her with an intense gaze, eyes locked on hers.
"You must have questions, my dear."
"I know you run a billion dollar corperation. Daylight-?"
"Daylight has never been a problem, with the exception that my preternatural powers are limited during daylight hours," he explained patiently, thoughts hidden behind a watchful countenance. Aria nibbled on the end of her glasses thoughtfully.
"Why come to me?"
"All debts owed and entitled are inherited, are they not?"
It didn't quite register.
"You sound like a lawyer," Aria said, half-smiling.
"Some people can't tell the difference," he chuckled as he moved closer.
As if dancing a tango, Aria took another step back, until she encountered the wall. Lucard pressed himself against her, all trace of a smile gone. Only a look of hunger remained in his eyes. Need, desire, and yet, something else. He leaned down, lips brushing her ear as he whispered in a tone halted with thirst.
"This is an extraordinary opportunity, my dear..."
"What if the debt is off? I'm not my father," she protested softly.
"I didn't want your father."
Aria closed her eyes as his gold silken hair brushed against her cheek.
"I didn't save your life."
"I'm saving yours...forever..." He snarled the last word through fangs, and drove them into her throat. Aria gasped sharply, eyes snapping open as she was wracked by the feeling of his mouth working against her neck. She felt she was being engulfed by a great cloak of darkness. He sank to the floor with her as her knees buckled. Lucard let himself swoon into her own realisations. Her blood, sweet and rich, coursed through him like fire.
Dracula, then? How fitting...
Very good, my dear. Funny thing, legend...when it's true..
And?
It wasn't my first name, either.
Lucard pulled back, withdrawing his fangs from her flesh as he threw off his suit coat and folded back the sleeve of his silk shirt. Drawing one fingernail over the blue vein in his wrist, he pressed his blood against Aria's lips, waiting, eyes bleeding from gold to grey as he stared crucially at the girl. Then, her hands clamped over his arm, her eyes snapping open as she drank greedily, making small noises of pleasure. Lucard tilted his head back, groaned softly as he wrenched himself from her grasp, and huddled a few feet away to nurse his wounds. Aria's jaw worked in a silent scream, eyes shifting to dark gold before they closed, and she sagged backwards like a marionette whose strings had been cut.
Thankfully unconscious.
*Flash* Fangs decending...thousands of memories...thousands of nights spent with fangs enbedded in flesh...blood...rivers...1598
*flash* 1612
*flash* 1945...
Gunfire. Shells exploding, blood covered sand raining down upon the scene of total chaos. That one stuck strongly, now that she thought of it. Had heard it described. The blood sang of endless pleasure. The vampire himself glutting on blood like it was wine.
*Flash* 2002...
His fangs in her own neck, tasting her, sampling her...she could taste her own blood...she could see her own slow death...and yet...how was she remembering this?
*FLASH*
Her eyes snapped open. She screamed.
Lucard appeared in the doorway at the report, his ears still ringing from the sound of her shrieking cries of confusion, horror and revulsion. He smiled calmly, patiently at her.
"What have you done to me?!" the words came marred with a snarl. Lucard crossed his arms over his chest, the silk fabric stretching slightly as he relaxed against the wall.
"Let me hear your speculations. What do YOU think I've done to you?"
Aria was about to start screaming again when she stopped to think about the question.
"I...I don't...."
She remembered again, the hazy dream-like state in which she had watched his own memories flash by her like some macabre picture-show. The truth dawned on her, slowly. Imperceptibly. She knew. She knew what he had done to her, and didn't have the faintest clue what the HELL she was supposed to do about it.
"WHAT the HELL am I supposed to do now?"
"I don't presume to know that. I've done my part, kept my end of the bargain," his mouth seemed uncertain around these Americanised words, but that smirk remained the same. The more she thought about it, the more his calm, composed manner was pissing her off. He had practically raped her, and now she noticed that her feelings were an inclination to tear his face off.
"Why-"
"Why did I turn you? Why did I go against your wishes? Because my gift is not easily refused. And it's not like you can go back, but at least...I could give you an understanding of what I'm offering,"
Aria smiled inwardly. She'd gotten a rise out of him. Finding the strength starting to increase in her, she got off the couch and crossed her arms, looking less professional, but more professionally miffed in her wrinkled grey suit.
"What are you offering?"
"Life eternal, naturally. All the money you could wish for. Anything any self satisfied American could want, I suppose," his smile widened slightly.
"And what makes YOU think, Mr. Lucard...that I am a self-satisfied American?"
Lucard licked his lips, content that he'd touched a nerve.
"A general assumption, I suppose,"
"You suppose, you assume. I didn't WANT to be immortal, and I don't want to be a killer. I don't want to be YOU."
"My dear, if there is anything I hate, it is competition...would I be likely to make you into someone who would become my adversary?"
Aria didn't know the answer to that one. She clenched her hand into a fist, and without warning, slammed it into the side of that beautiful face. Blood tears of rage sprang to her eyes. Lucard reeled back, then stood up, eyes aglow and fangs bared. He snarled, wrapping one white hand around her throat and lifting her against the wall.
"You ungrateful-"
"SHUTTUP. YOU'VE KILLED ME, YOU CRUEL HEARTLESS-"
Aria screamed, then was suddenly silenced as he released her and took a step back.
"Perhaps I've made a mistake. Maybe I'll just leave you to your own devices and see how long you last, hmmm?"
His smile returned, cold as ever. Aria stared at him, twisting her hands together to keep them from plunging them into his throat.
"Manipulative asshole. It must come with the Armani!"
Lucard's expression softened slightly (quite the opposite reaction she was expecting). "My debt has been repaid. As far as it goes, that is all you need to know. I don't maintain contact with most of my prodigies. Most."
Aria's brow furrowed. Lucard watched her with that wolflike neutrality.
"I'll leave you on your own to cool your heels. Maybe you'll learn something. But I'll be watching you. I won't help you unless you ask."
She stared at him, her face stony.
"I'll never ask for your help, Lucard."
He stepped close, tilting his head slightly as his fingers brushed over the now unmarred skin of her throat. Aria closed her eyes, willing herself not to bend to him, not to quiver or let out a whimper of fear, despite the fact that she was petrified.
"It's Alexander," he whispered softly, sliding a rook emblazoned card into her lapel pocket. Then he was gone. Aria sat back and let out the breath she had been holding, although she was finding breath unneccesary. It was a habit she ought to keep. She had a feeling she'd be losing a lot more of herself.
A Week Later, New York
At first, it had been easy. Passing for one of them, sitting in on the Immigrations Legalities Wing meeting (or the Legal Eagles as NYC Customs office jokingly called them) and drinking cold coffee, half listening to the Councilor rant about...what was it? It didn't matter, really. Aria was seeing something entirely different behind those designer glasses. She was watching the vein in the man's neck throb. She was mesmerised by the way his pulse would increase as he urged the board to "think outside the box" or some such nonsense. It didn't matter much to her, she was only a paralegal intern. Still. Everyone was jealous of her position. Daddy had been a big shot, and little Aria still had all the perks. But she wasn't thinking about that now, oh, no, she was thinking about crawling over the table and ripping open the Councilor's throat. She noticed then that she was standing. Christ.
"You have something to say, Ms. Constantine?"
Think fast.
"Yeah. I think that new options for illegal immigrants should be created, and they should be assigned legal defense, and that all this deportment placing is crap."
Or something like that.
"Yes, yes, I agree. I think we should get right on it."
Jeanne now, sitting on the side of the long omninous glass table. Now they were talking, Legal Eagles swarming over the new concept. Aria quietly excused herself, and looked out the window. Damn. It was already sunset. And she needed to stop by the butcher's.
At first it had been interesting. Worth all the trouble Lucard had put her through, maybe. The enchantment of flying. The ability to appear in one place, then appear in another. But then, as her thirst increased, her powers decreased. She couldn't shapeshift any more. She couldn't fly, or teleport. Even her strength was declining, and she didn't need Lucard to tell her it was because of her refusal to drink human blood. Now every person who brushed by her looked like a walking souffle. She had tried to stem the decline by drinking cow's blood. Nothing but human blood could slake her thirst, and she dreaded to think the true realisation would come at the worst time.
Aria heaved a sigh, adjusted the lapel of her white spotless business suit, hefted her briefcase and headed to the elevator. It was a short ride to the Italian quarter, where she bought her groceries. Every store was a rural little market, and she delighted in the fact that everything was authentic, and cheap. What American wouldn't be pleased?
She made her rounds, getting the blood in a plastic bag, using an excuse that had grown old in this long week ("it's for...uh...painting"). Julio, the butcher, had nicknames for her. He called her Da Vinci. Michaelangelo. Botticelli. Was there a sign over her head that screamed "No Artistic Ability"?
She shrugged to herself as she walked down the seemingly abandoned street to her old, gothic apartment building. A man was leaning against the archway entrace. Blonde hair. Blue eyes. For a half second she thought it was Lucard, then realised it was the new doorman that had been hired. Upon moving closer, he looked younger then the vampire. Nineteen or so, Aria guessed.
"Want some help with those?" he asked, motioning to the groceries. Aria shook her head with a pert "No thank you."
Of course, the young man seemed inclined to take them anyways. He reached for the brown paper bag, and everything seemed to slow. Aria released the brown bag and lunged for him, ripping his head back by the hair as her week-old instincts took over. Her mouth curled back over long fangs, and she drove them into his neck, closing her eyes as blood exploded into her mouth in a wet hot torrent. Strength was racing through her veins in the form of a warm, almost cozy sensation. She dropped the corpse, tilting her head back as she inhaled the cold crisp air, her senses enflamed. She lifted her groceries as if they were nothing and bore them to her suite, collapsing on her leather couch, the same leather couch Lucard had been perching on when she had opened the door seven days ago. She had been looking forward to a hot cup of java, and a good chick flick on tv, and had been affronted by this business-man slick monster.
She quivered, hugging her knees to her chest as the emotions and memories of the dead boy coursed through her. Then...
*clap* *clap* *clap*
The clear ringing of soft applause. Mocking applause.
Aria turned, lips curled in a snarl.
Nothing.
"Very good. You see, my dear, it's very simple. Killing, I mean."
The voice was in front of her now. She whipped her body around again, standing now, arms raised, ready for combat.
Nothing. Still nothing.
What the hell?
Then. There, on the ebony Chinese coffee table. The card. The rook. And a number. Aria picked up the little card, the supple material bending in her fingers. It was a way out of this confusion. A chance to make amends. Amends to what? She didn't ask for this. To ask for help would be surrender, and that was something she couldn't abide. Then again, neither could Alexander Lucard.
The Next Night, New York
Aria nearly cried at the simplicity of it. Her mind, cold and ruthless, trained by the lawyer's trade had allowed her to see past all the mortal coils, moral convictions and stupid pity. She thirsted. She drank. Her father, sentimental soul as he was, could have never tolerated this.
Even so, she didn't drink from just anyone, no...someone who deserved it. It was always the killers, the murderers...those who didn't value life as much as she did. Life in the form of blood. But how could it be this easy? Aria sighed. She didn't love what she was, she didn't accept it, but she drowned herself in the blood of thousands, blocking out the questions..."what...then?"
Lucard hadn't wanted an adversary. Aria hadn't wanted to become immortal. Perhaps it was about time she started getting back some of her own. Then...no...no, it would be a very bad idea to tangle with Lucard at this point. Revenge, yes, she'd have that. She'd make him scream for having placed her in a suspended state of animation on this Earthly plane. No one should be forced to that. Even so, there were still advantages...
She walked down the boulevard, feeling perfectly invincible. Of course, now that blood spattered her lower lip, no one seemed inclined to get in her way. Golden eyes shimmered from under glossy brown tresses. Aria's spirits lifted now, when the night had fallen. During the day, work had become an insomniac hallucination. Watching herself, watching herself work from a distance. But here, on the streets, on Broadway, she was free and careless.
Aria was reckless. And Lucard found that the most attractive thing about her as she walked, and stopped to embrace a grizzled crack-cocaine dealer in the sparse shadows of one classic long New York alley. Lucard crouched on the scaffolding of a tall brick building, housing the city's newest attraction, the Argent Symphony Hall. Naturally, his name was on the sponsor list. He'd poured a generous sum of money into the little orchestra. Of course, the name of Alexander Lucard Industries was on the sponser list of many a great entertainment service on Broadway. All that money pouring in was enough to make the vampire quiver in delight. Ah, there...his little Aria, done with her meal and off for a spot of tea?
Lucard swooped off the ledge, landing silently behind her, only the velvet of his long gray coat making the slightest noise. Aria slipped out of the alley, a fresh trail of blood on the corner of her mouth the only sign of her recent endeavors. She walked through the dim light of the neon signs slowly, obviously distracted in savoring the stolen warmth. Lucard watched appreciatively as the colours of the neon shimmered off her hair in a sparkling myriad. Succulent little paralegal.
Aria paused, and turned to stare in his general direction. Lucard tilted his head slightly, pulling the gray hat over his golden hair. Of course, the shadows were bright as day to her, and made no effect in hiding him. But she continued walking, as if she didn't really want to see him there. No one had ever sensed him before. Perhaps he wanted to be seen? Lucard smiled slightly, with thoughts of sweet little torments he could dream up for this independent one foremost in his mind.
Then -SLAM- Lucard was caught off guard as Aria's hands drove him back against the wall, lifting him up. Her smile was almost chilling, fangs indenting her babysoft lower lip as she closed her fingers in the soft velvet of his coat. Lucard snarled automatically, eyes shifting to a violent gold as he moved to throw her to the ground. Aria was having none of it.
"Good evening, Mr. Lucard. Is there anything I can do for you?" The tone was mocking. Lucard altered his expression to that of bemusement, a difficult feat around fangs.
"Aria, my dear, so lovely to see you...would you be ever so kind as to release me?" She smiled and complied, inwardly confused at his game. But she played along. Lucard straightened his coat.
"You've been watching me," she demurred, watching him with a shrewd, sideways expression.
"I told you I would be."
Aria shifted uncomfortably, then let out a little shriek as Lucard pressed her back against the wall, his lips twisted in a cruel malicious smile.
"Do you have any idea how long it has been since anyone has taken me off guard?"
Aria showed her teeth in what was definitely NOT a smile.
"Lucky me. Maybe I'll actually kill you next time."
The smile broadened.
"What makes you think you'll ever be able to kill me, my dear?"
She dug her fingernails into her palms, itching to get her hands around his neck.
"It's easy...fire... a stake. A big knife in the right place."
Lucard chuckled, shaking his head.
"What makes you think you'll want to kill me? You may desire it now, but time can change all minds." When Aria opened her mouth to reply scathingly, he leaned forward and kissed her,very slowly, very softly.
Shock froze her. Lucard pulled back, the smirk replaced by a thoughtful, patient smile.
"Think on it."
Then he was gone. Aria screamed, once, twice, slamming her fists onto the brick wall, leaving a few considerable dents, before sinking down to the ground in little hiccup-sobs.
"This isn't FAIR!"
One Hour Later
Aria huddled in the back of the dim nightclub. It had been one of her favorites before she had graduated and started interning. White Christmas lights hung from the split level balcony and stage. A slow punk balled hovered over the seemingly dusty place. It was called Le Sabbath, and she had concluded it would be her home for the night. Lucard had put a crimp in her reckless fun. Okay, so she wasn't distracted enough not to stare at the bartender's neck, but still. He had certainly unsettled her. Just the feel of his soft lips, those lips that changed every ten seconds with his own thoughts, that could be hard and cruel and sneering, or soft, and yielding. There was only one thing to do.
Aria would have to kill him.
She'd have to tear off that face that haunted her dreams, break those hands that had cradled her while his mouth had stolen her blood. Burn those clothes that never got dirty. Burn those...burn him. Set him alight, and never have to see that smirk again.
Aria stood and left her half-drunk wine on the counter, looking almost fearfully from side to side as if Lucard could hear her thoughts. She slid through the door and huddled under the golden light of the flickering street lamp. She waved down a cab and got in, pulling her long coat around herself as if staving off a chill that would never affect her again. Aria closed her eyes, almost feeling the old buildings that they passed by. But not seeing them at all. Seeing...no...feeling those lips, those soft lips. What the HELL was she going to do?
The Jubilee Manor hadn't hired a new doorman yet. Seems like no one wanted the job. Aria had dealt easily with the police interventions, of course, but she couldn't skive around the authorities forever. In a hundred years, she'd need a false identity. She'd need a whole new life. A whole new apartment. A whole new city.
Peachy.
Aria fell back against her bed, letting out a little sigh as her unbound hair pooled around the satin pillows. A shadow of the window appeared on the wall, cast by the light of the waning moon. And suddenly he was there, leaning so casually against the doorframe, his satin shirt unbuttoned on the first few buttons.
"I suppose you think you're terribly clever," Aria said almost inaudibly, rolling her head to stare at him. Lucard's laconic demeanor was maddening. He smiled, lazily, like a cat with his mouse. Cat and mouse again. She needed to find a new analogy.
"I thought I might invite myself in..."
Aria glared at him.
"You thought wrong. I never asked your help. You have no reason to be here." The beam of moonlight passed over his face, making him look more unearthly and beautiful. He wasn't smiling now. He looked quiet and solemn as he moved gracefully, taking a seat in the wicker chair next to the door.
"Do I need a reason to be here?" His accent was curling around her thoughts. No teasings, no "my dears". Something seemed out of place. Aria sat up almost effortlessly, and watched him carefully. Lucard tilted his head slightly, his golden hair falling forward.
"Why are you here, Lucard?"
"I asked you to call me Alexander," he said softly, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
"Alright," she sighed. "Alexander. Why-" He stood all of a sudden, a cruel puzzlement creasing his brow.
"I don't know. If I did I would have answered already. I don't know why I am here, nor why I decided to turn you, or why my thoughts keep wandering to you."
She rose, and stood to face him, hands stiff at her side.
"I'm sworn to kill you, you know," she said impertinently, sticking her chin up. He smiled down at her, mocking this time. There, that's the Dracula she knew. His hands brushed over her bare shoulders, he unconciously parted his lips.
"Somehow I doubt you will."
"I keep my promises."
"And I keep mine."
"What did you promise, Alexander?" she made his name a mocking sound. Lucard's face descended, his mouth pressing against hers, tongue sliding along her lower lip. Aria closed her eyes, every muscle in her body relaxing as his arms came around her.
"If you truly want, I'll leave you alone..." he whispered between kisses. Aria's voice remained silent, she didn't have the heart to say yes, but the thought of saying no seemed to be giving in. And wouldn't it be wonderful to give in...just now...
WHAT?
Aria shoved Lucard backwards, face contorted with rage, rage that she had been forced into this position. What the HELL was he playing at?! He looked at her expectantly, eyes aglimmer with lust, and something else. Need. Again, that need. That hunger. For blood? What else was there, to him? One of his age, his stature? Just blood and money? Aria didn't want to know.
"Get out."
Lucard's disappointment was immediately masked by diplomacy. He raised her hand to his lips, and bowed his head.
"As the lady wishes."
Then he walked away. She didn't hear the door slam, but she knew he was gone. Gone until she called him back, or so she hoped. That bastard, playing games with her head, making her want him. She clenched her fists around her satin bed sheets and stared at the ceiling until sleep flooded her senses. A night she dreamed of him. Of his hands, his eyes, the way his hair would feel against her cheek as he kissed her neck, the sheets a satin nest around them...
Bastard.
Two Weeks Later. Clavaux, Luxembourg
Aria shuddered slightly as the cold seethed around her. She pulled the wool coat around her tightly, and followed the procession of the black clad bellhop who carried her luggage up to the towering stone castle-turned-hotel. The place was warm and comfortable inside, while outside it was forbidding, sillouetting the dark gray sky. It was a strange day in the little village. Everything seemed dark and somber. A perfect day for a funeral, perhaps.
Soon, Aria had settled into her room. She sighed vaguely, and stared at the merrily cracking fire. Lucard had hopefully been left in New York. What were the odds of running into him here? She had been assigned a ridiculously high inquiry of foreign customs policies. Of course, the Councilor had indicated that upon her return she was to be promoted. At the same time, they expected her to do a summary of who really CONTROLLED things in this little country. Only two names came up.
Alexander Lucard...and...Maximilian Townsend.
Interesting.
Aria pulled the laptop from her case, and set it on the oaken table. She sank into the cushioned chair and keyed the little beastie machine for a bit, waiting while the websites loaded up.
Lucard Industries.
Fiscal reports. Deals. Lucard's net worth.
Aria let out a little whistle of amazment.
She moved on to Townsend's site. The man was a real estate fiend, his stocks were high, unemployment low, and he had a new foot in the European markets. Lucard probably didn't like that very much. She looked over a picture and profile of Mr.Townsend, while noting that Lucard's didn't have one. Generically handsome, nice smile. Someone worth investigating? Naaaah... Unless. No...he wouldn't know anything about Lucard, would he? She reached for her cellphone and dialed.
*RING RING* *RING RING*
*click*
"Hello, this is Townsend Real Estate, how may I direct your call?"
"Uh...this is Aria Constantine, I'm doing an inquiry on the current immigration legal state of this region, could you put me on the phone with Mr. Maximilian Townsend?"
"One moment."
A few rustling noises.
"Ms. Constantine. What can I do for you?" Cultured American English. Huh?
"I was just...er...wondering about...Lucard Industries, actually."
"Really? What would you like to know?"
"Legal holdings, actually."
"They're substantial. Mr. Lucard has a mass of lawyers working for him, and I doubt you'll be able to get any records on him or his company, to be honest. I've been trying for a long time."
Aria shifted, cradling the phone against her shoulder as she leaned back, the computer screen's glow illuminating her face.
"Why are YOU so interested?" she asked, intrigued.
"Ah...Mr. Lucard and I have had past...conflicts about...errr...ethics." He sounded a little uncomfortable.
"I hate to think what Lucard's idea of ethics are,"
she said with a small chuckle. To her amazement, Townsend laughed.
"If by ethics you mean rip the jugular out of everyone who says no to him..."
"Literally, I think," Aria voiced into the phone.
The laughter stopped.
"You know."
"Yeah. I know. I know in a big way."
"Maybe we can help each other."
"Maybe." Aria wasn't sure how she was liking the direction of this conversation.
"Is there somewhere I could meet you, Ms. Constantine?"
"Uh...I'm at the chateau in Clavaux..."
"Brilliant. I'll be there in an hour?"
Now she was really uncertain about this.
"I suppose so...in the dining room?"
"Wonderful. Until then."
*CLICK*
One Hour Later
Aria shifted uncomfortably in the small cozy looking dining room, adjusting her red skirt. Quite suddenly, a young slim man in a dark suit appeared, his blue eyes travelling to her own dark ones.
"Ms. Constantine?"
"Mr. Townsend," she offered her hand. He smiled with a boyish charm and bent to kiss her hand. Oh great. Another charming hand kissing bastard. He took a seat in the leather booth and leaned over the table.
"So...what interaction have you had with...our friend?"
Aria motioned to the waiter to bring her a glass of wine.
"Enough to know. He said it was a matter of an old debt he owed to my father, dating back to WWII. D-day, in fact," she confided in an undertone, sipping her wine.
"Is he still in the States?"
"As far as I know."
Then something occured to her. She hadn't seen him for two weeks, for all she knew he could be back in Vianden. For all she knew, he could be in the resteraunt.
"Ah...Mr. Townsend..."
"Max, please."
"Maybe it wouldn't be the best idea to discuss this here.."
...
Max shoved his hands in his pockets, and glanced back and forth.
"Why so jumpy?" he inquired, eyeing Aria with a small amount of suspicion.
"I just had to get out-" her words died in her throat.
There, leaning on the side of a sleek BMW, was Alexander Lucard. He looked pleased.
"Ms. Constantine? What's wrong?" Max took a step forward, looking concerned. Aria pointed, and as Max turned to look, Lucard appeared behind him. Aria took an involuntary step back as Lucard swung Townsend around by the neck, and pressed him against a parked Corolla.
"Hello Maximilian. What a pleasant surprise."
Max made a little familiar squeaking noise as Lucard's icy fingers curled around his windpipe.
"Aria, how wonderful to see you, now...if you will excuse me for just a moment, I have a little unfinished business with Herr Maximilian."
"ALEXANDER, stop it! Just leave him alone, he has nothing to do with this."
Lucard turn to face her, arching a brow, while Max struggled vainly.
"He has everything to do with this, my dear. This will only take a moment-"
Max motioned desperately to the thin piece of wood that had slid from his pocket and come to rest in the snow on the ground.
"Stake!"
Lucard gave him a little shake, smiling a cruel smile of satisfaction.
"There's no need to get touchy, Max...this will only hurt for a moment..."
Aria seized the stake and jammed it into Lucard's back, piercing through the fabric of his Armani. Lucard arched back slightly, letting out a little groan of pain. Max clawed at Lucard's arm.
"Let him go, Lucard, or it goes right through you..."
Aria's threat rang in his ears, that sweet voice, that deadly petite beauty. Lucard released him, causing Max to fall forward on his knees, clutching his throat and coughing violently.
"There, I've complied, now...Aria...if you would be so kind..." Lucard's words were obviously strained. Aria stepped back, pulling the stake out in one sharp tug. Lucard spun, and growled, advancing slowly.
"That wasn't a very nice thing to do."
Aria held the stake up, prepared to use it again.
"Just promise me you won't hurt him, and I won't kill you."
Lucard glanced at Max, who was standing, and backing away very slowly, one hand still on his throat. The vampire looked pained.
"You wouldn't," he said, turning his attention back to the woman wielding her deadly weapon.
"Wouldn't I?"
Lucard moved forward, leaning down so her face was level with his. The stake brushed against his chest, but he ignored it, glaring at her with a cold countenance. She could almost see the sense of betrayal behind those cold eyes. He really hadn't expected her to hurt him, had he?
"I won't forget this."
His cloak swirled around him, then spread out and exploded into bats.
Max stood up, brushing himself off.
"A matter of an old debt, hmm? Looks like more than that to me,"
he commented, looking accusingly at his benefactor. Aria looked disdainfully at him.
"That isn't for you to speculate, Mr. Townsend. I suggest you keep yourself out of trouble."
She turned on her heel and walked back to the hotel, disgusted with herself.
Max parked his car, and got out, looking up at the old stone house that had once belonged to his uncle. He came here to think, to brood. This time he was here to arm himself. He'd let himself fall into the vampire's clutches one too many times, but now, he was going to make sure that would never happen again.
Walking through the clutter of the house, he looked longingly at the stained sillouette of where the Cross of Magyars used to be. He wished he had it, it was the best weapon anyone could have in the presence of the undead, but it had a particular effect on Dracula. He turned to face the room, but then promptly recoiled against the wall. Alexander Lucard was sitting in Uncle Gustav's old chair.
"Hello, Max!" he said, almost jovial. Max took a step back, and then he was a little boy again, getting into trouble, making mistakes over and over. In awe of the Vampire Prince. Lucard tilted his head slightly, his dusky gold hair falling forward.
"You didn't really think I was going to let you live, did you? Poor Maximilian."
The tone was mocking, ringing around the empty house. Memories flashed back to him, over and over.
1990
Flight 205 to New York, engines horribly malfunctioned. Plane crash. The day little Max realised Lucard was truly ruthless. He'd killed the woman he loved to prove it.
1994
Gustav Helsing found mangled in the streets of Vianden. Animal attack. Wolf. The laughter that rang out. The funeral was miserable...the town had massed, everyone knew Gustav Helsing. Lucard even came to offer his condolences. That laughter again, horrible, high insane laughter. Klaus.
Lucard's small sigh, the sigh at having been robbed the victory.
*FLASH*
2002
Lucard stood, eyes icy with amused malice. Max stared at him, hands clentched into fists. Lucard's lips curled into that smile, that smile that said it had all been a game. There was no allowance for the past here and now.
"I've come too far to let it be jeopardised by you, my dear Max. Too far. You know better then to get in my way, don't you, Maximilian?"
Slowly, Max nodded. Lucard patted his shoulder, as if congratulating him. "Good man. If you'll excuse me, I'll be going now." Max nodded, and stepped aside from the door.
Lucard turned. "Oh, and one more thing..."
"Yes?"
Lucard's hands gripped the side of Max's head, teeth showing in a terrifying grin. He twisted deftly, snapping Max's neck with a resounding crack. He fell to the floor, instantly dead. Lucard brushed his hands together briskly, turned, and walked away, whistling a jaunty tune.
The Next Night
Aria stared blankly out thewindow, waiting for that inevitable drop of the proverbial curtain. Lucard was leaning against the doorframe, his half smile ever present. She turned, and glared at him, suspicious black eyes betraying a faint curiosity.
"You killed him, didn't you?"
Lucard's smile broadened. He crossed his arms over his chest and inclined his head everso slightly.
"I have many reasons to explain why I ended his life, my dear, but I doubt you would be so generous as to listen to them."
Aria turned, and took a seat, professional. Businesslike. Her dark eyes searched his gray ones with an increasing interest.
"Who was he to you? What required his death, Lucard?"
Lucard's manor remained the same as he took the seat opposite. He glanced at her with a mild observation. She was not upset that Maximilian was dead. She wasn't angry. She was...disturbed.
Hmmmmmm...
"Since you seem so very open to discussion, I will tell you."
A number of years ago when my company was just taking root in Vianden, my timeless nearly unkillable bloodline of enemies had taken it upon themselves to inherit the ardent duty of killing me. Gustav Helsing was an aging old buffoon, with such high and mighty idiotic morals. And he trained his brood well. I remember them distinctly. There was Christopher Townsend, a teenager intent on making his so very American presence known in my little European niche. Sophie Metternich...a ward of Helsings, a personal conquest of mine at one point.
"The most of them are quite dead now. And then, of course. Maximilian Townsend. Christopher's younger brother, always quite the...vampire enthusiast. He was sweet and innocent and his fascinations were as well. I always had a mind to poison that purity, turn him into something of a monster. But no...I had one to deal with already. Klaus. Klaus Helsing. Simple old Gustav's golden boy, my instrument. He eventually went invariably insane. He killed his father. He killed Sophie, and Christopher, and yet...little Max escaped somehow. Well...I believe that unhinged him from the vampire world for awhile. He drifted from place to place, and I lost account of him. I had become lax where vampire hunters were concerned. I had never imagined little Maximilian would tangle himself in my affairs again, but it seems he had. He had intended to kill me. But not in the usual sense. No, his business was just starting to show promise, a small threat to me. Max's intentions were unclear, however. I simply wanted the little brat out of my way. And you saw the stake. You pressed it into my back when I meant to finish it all. I told you I would not forget."
Lucard paused, and stood, eyes slightly aglow as he watched Aria with a burning indecisiveness.
"I never imagined you would attempt to harm me. And I am of two minds on the subject. Generally, something threatens me, I destroy it without a second thought...and yet..."
Aria stood, lips parted in a beautiful expression of puzzlement.
"And yet what?"
Lucard turned, leaning into her, lips hovering above her ear.
"To injure you seems quite intolerable to me...tell me. What is this that causes compassion to cloud my instincts? It remains..." his hands brushed over her throat slightly, gently."...Quite a mystery to me."
His eyes travelled along the line of her low cut blouse, fingers brushing lightly over her collarbone, lips caressing her ear ever so slightly.
"You would never let me conquer you, would you?"
Aria closed her eyes, tilting her head back according to the gentle pressure of his lips, which moved downwards over her soft white throat.
"Would you...?"
"Never.."
His arm came around her as his lips traced over the curves of her breasts, fangs descended enough to leave small scratches. His tongue flickered out to taste her.
"Tell me...Aria...what you're thinking.."
"You already know."
"Tell me"
"I'm thinking Max had the right idea. That the true key to you is through your instruments of power, not through a stake."
Lucard tilted his head to stare up at her, and in his eyes, she saw a strange gleam. A dark and shining pride in her. Her brilliance. Her ingenuity. And her intellegent apprehension. Lucard stood slowly, hands trailing up her back, sending shivers down her spine. He leaned into her again, and spoke softly, the tone holding a inquisivitive implication.
"Now...dearest...the real question is, what IS my intruments of power? What makes me strong? Max knew. He knew that. He never expected me to appear today, why would he have brought a stake along with him?"
Aria paused, a million explanations running through her head. Why bring a stake to meet what you assumed was a mortal woman? Sercurity? Somehow, she didn't think so.
Lucard captured her lips in a fierce kiss, his tongue probing into her mouth with a startling intensity. Then he pulled back, teasing smile in place. Then he disappeared into the darkness, with simple parting words.
"Do consider it, dearest?"
"Now really, Mr. Van...uh... Gnisleh, I cant allow you into the Status Claim files." Aria said over steepled fingers, chocolate eyes observing her current "client" with a patient scowl. The man pouted at her, his curly blonde hair framing his cherubic countenance as he rocked back and forth on his leather shod feet.
"It's pronounced, "Neesleigh""
"Right"
"Ms. Councilor, please understand me, I only need to see the name of the inheritance beneficiary," he said, a boyish smile shining out of his thirty-year-old face.
"Take it up with your lawyer, wills arent my job," Aria said shortly, adjusting the cuffs of her dark green silk blouse. He leaned down and splayed his hand on the desk.
"Its not a will-"
"If its not a will, what is it?"
"A matter of...an old debt." That odd smile slipped out again, light shining in those light blue eyes, giving Aria an odd impression that this man might start giggling maniacally at any moment. And his phrasing was disturbingly familiar.
Old debt? Damn. Damn damn damn damn.
"And what is debt might that be, Mr. Van Gnisleh?" she intoned temptingly, eyes peering over her glasses.
"Ah ah ah," he chided, grin spreading over his features, an expression of childish glee seizing all of his features.
"I'll trade you information, Mr. Van Gnisleh. You tell me...exactly WHAT you owe to this mystery person, and maybe Ill let you see the file." He buffed his fingernails on his blue blazers lapel, and offered a quirked eyebrow.
"Oh...it was an old business manoever I thought to repay, since I'm all the better for it now. Oh yes...it made everything so...clear to me," he said, a touch of wistfulness creeping into his energetic visage.
"And the name?"
He smiled.
"Well, Im uncertain as to whether the man is still alive or not, but it names someone as his beneficiary. The file I want to see is Lucard. A. Lucard."
Oh shit. Aria stalled, toying with her laptop keyboard.
"Uh..it names...uhmmmmmmm..." the first name that came to mind. "Maximillian Townsend." The man looked totally nonplussed.
"You're certain?" He leant over her desk to get a better view of the monitor. Aria spun the laptop away from him.
"Quite certain,"
"Let me see it then."
Oh shit oh shit oh shit...
"Ah...I dont think that will be neccesary," she spluttered, slapping the laptop closed and backing away slowly.
"Oh dear, we are skittish, arent we? I think you know something..." he moved closer, almost doing a little dance of macabre joy.
"Its your name, listed as his beneficiary, really..." she tried again.
"Oh, I doubt that. See, the name I gave you doesnt exist. Its Klaus. Klaus Helsing. I'm sure you've heard of me."
"It says Klaus, see for yourself."
He turned and lifted the screen top, staring into the photograph of Aria Constantine.
"Well well..." Klaus turned back to face her, then let out a little screech of dismay. Aria had disappeared quite rapidly from the office. Oh well. No matter. Her address was on the screen. And Klaus never forgot a face.
Aria raced across the rooftops of lower New York, reaching into her pocket for her cell phone and the little white card Lucard had left in her apartment. She dialed the phone with incredible speed, taking a pause on top of a quiet boulevard theatre.
"C'mon...PICK UP, damn you.."
"Lucard."
Aria inhaled sharply.
"Yeah, uh..listen. I think an old friend of yours came to settle a score,"
"Oh really, concerned for my saftey?" The tone was mocking.
"More for mine. I remember what you said, about instruments of power. I'm not your instrument..."
"Ah...but..."
"Klaus Helsing seems to think so."
"He knows my weaknesses, indeed. How did he come to know about you?"
"He came to me to get into your files, see who your new favourite person was."
"You did not seriously show it to him..?"
"I didnt have much of a choice. He saw it."
"So it seems."
"Listen, I can take care of myself-"
"Then why call me?" Appraising. Mocking. Bastard.
"Because...well...Klaus is YOUR problem. So take care of it."
"Oh, dearest, I adore you too...you really must call me more often."
Aria clentched her teeth.
"I doubt it'll be happening soon,"
Laughter.
"Ill fix this problem, if you like. Besides.
Klaus has needed UNDOING for a long time,"
"Ah-Hmmmm. In the mean time, where should I go?"
"Oh, dont worry about that."
*Click*
Aria stood stock still for a moment, shocked. He had HUNG UP ON HER.
"DONT WORRY ABOUT IT?" she screamed into the cellphone.
"Yessss, don't worry about it. I'll take of you," came a voice behind her. That slithery voice. Aria jumped, before turning around to see Lucard leaning against an air conditioning vent, looking entirely too pleased with himself.
"What the HELL IS YOUR PROBLEM?" Aria demanded, quite enraged.
"That is a lovely blouse youre wearing, m'dear," he commented liltingly. Aria paused, temporarily refrained from comment as she looked him over slowly. Lucard was the picture of casual upper-class, with his white turtleneck, combed hair and grey slacks.
"You were in Luxembourg..."
"Yes, I was. Now Im here. Teleportation, my dear, is quite a handy thing,"
"Overseas? You mean, I'll never have to take a plane anywhere ever again?"
"Oh, no...for the sake of appearances, of course,"
Aria crossed her arms over her breasts, and stared at him skeptically.
"So, where am I supposed to stay, then? He knows my address."
Lucard moved forward, and wrapped his arms around her tense shoulders.
"Why, in my suite of course. In the Empire State building. My company has a wing there..."
Aria looked at him, and let out a very very small smile.
"For a vampire, you're awfully high profile."
Lucard leaned down and kissed her softly. "I hide in plain sight. Now...shall we?"
They dematerialised into the night sky.
The surrounding lights of New York skyscrapers made the starkly decorated suit seem& not so much lively, but bright. Open. Exposed. Aria huddled on the leather ottoman, staring at a bottle of scotch that Lucard had left there some days ago.
The vampire himself was comfortably placed on the arm chair across the table. One slender grey clad leg rested over another, and his posture, while upright, was perfectly relaxed. Quite frankly, it irritated Aria, his seemingly nonchalant demeanor. Yet, there as a small crease between his brows, the only thing to reveal on his marble countenance that something was amiss. He was deeply contemplating something, that was for certain.
"You're uncharacteristically silent," she almost whispered, looking across at him, smoky brown eyes surveying him as if she were surveying an opposing witness on the stand.
"Hmmm.." was his only comment.
Those gray eyes were seeing something other then the wine coloured carpet to which they appeared to be fixed. Aria stood, tired of the uncomfortable silence. She pulled off her navy suit coat, and leaned down to stare into his pale gray eyes.
"What are you going to do?"
He blinked once, then looked back at her, centuries of poise fixing his expression to blankness.
"I've been asking myself that question for about an hour now. Klaus isn't easy to kill, but he's so easy to trap. He has so many weaknesses, the largest one is that he'll do almost anything to get to me...and he knows what trail to follow."
Aria frowned.
"Me. You need me."
Lucards face turned hard. A fierceness flared in his eyes as he gripped her shoulders.
"No. Absolutely not. I will not risk you..."
Aria leaned in, face inches from his.
"Maybe it isn't your decision to make, Alexander."
"I won't allow this," he growled through clenched teeth.
"How will you stop me?"
Lucards arms locked around her in an iron embrace.
"I can stop you."
Aria pressed her palms against his shoulders, trying vainly to force him to release her. Lucard smiled viciously, pulling her closer.
"So eager to protect me? How sweet..."
"Protect you? You wish..."
Lucard tilted his head and captured her lips with his, causing her to make a little squeak in surprise. He pulled back, licking blood red lipstick off his lower lip while his eyes held hers with a startling intensity. He was smiling cruelly, seductively. Those lips with their charm to disarm. Aria felt her lip quivering with desire.
No no no, if it starts now, it'll never stop...
Do you want it to?
You've only got to start it...
Her emotions wrestled with each other, conflicting thoughts racing through her normally disciplined mind.
Okay...just go with it...
She bent down and kissed him, lips crushing against his as his tongue darted into her mouth, dancing across hers with a passion he'd been keeping a rein on up until now. Aria moaned softly as his hands moved downwards over her hips, pulling her onto his lap as his mouth worked desperately at hers. Lucard's fingers trailed over the pearl buttons of her blouse, pausing from the kiss to ask her silent permission.
Aria let out a little laugh.
"You didnt bother to ask the first time."
"Hmmm...perhaps I'm feeling a little more generous today?" his smile was teasing.
"Well, please...allow me..." Aria whispered with a small smile, running her hands up under the white cotton turtleneck and lifting it off Lucard's lean muscled torso. She almost expected to see a negative tan line. Like perhaps the rest of him would be more tan then his face. Tracing her fingers over sharply developed muscles, she licked her lips. Chest white as the rest of him, he seemed carved out of alabaster. Aria hadn't been able to look at herself in the mirror. Did she look like him? Whiter then death?
Lucard sifted his hands through her hair and kissed her again, hard and deep, while his hands trailed down over her blouse, nimble fingers loosing each button with a slow paced movement. Aria leaned her head back as his kisses moved lower, and lower, over the curves of her breasts, fingers lifting satin material off her. He pulled her back against him, the feel of flesh against flesh sending new ripples of desire through both of them. Lucard slowly, agonisingly so, unzipped her skirt. Her hands fumbled with the zipper of his black slacks.
Soon, pantyhose, boxers, and all other garments were in a pile next to the armchair. The lights of surrounding buildings cast themselves over Lucard as he lowered her to the carpet.
"Uhmmm...Alexander...the windows...and no shades?" Aria muttered vaguely as he ran one hand over her bare stomach.
"Hrmm...you have a talent for changing subjects quickly.."
Aria slid her hands across his taut back muscles, lower lip pouting slightly.
"Answer my question, please."
"FINE...They're vision inverted. I can see out, but they can't see in..."
"Ah..."
She tilted her head back and wrapped her legs around him, delighting in his small groan of pleasure as he was thrust into her. Moving down, he rocked against her gently at first, then, an old and nearly forgotten instinct for selfishness took over and Lucard growled almost animalistically as he arched back against her. Aria cried out softly, shivers running up her spine as he wrought cool, almost burning pleasure on her.
Then, his power extended from him, his incredible will to live, his true age. It brushed against her own essence, the power unlocked by vampiric blood. But hers was still in its infancy. Lucard had been alive...no...Lucard was a thirty year old business man...Dracula was beyond all that.
But he was here and now, too...
Aria felt her back curving as she arched back with the bridging climax. She let out a small scream as the pleasure exploded over her. Lucards form tensed instantanously, then relaxed as he suddenly collapsed over her, a small hiss of air escaping parted lips. Aria leaned up and stared at him.
"I think...thats the first breath I've heard you take."
He smiled a broad smile, a hint of mocking playing along his features.
"Old habits die hard," he whispered, fingers dancing through her hair.
"And just...how old...?"
That smile again.
"Far, far too old..."
Aria arched a brow.
"So enlighten me already. How long has it been?"
"Five-hundred...almost six-hundred years perhaps..."
"My God."
At that, a wild burst of laughter escaped Lucards lips.
"I can assure you, my dear, God has nothing to do with it."
"Oh" it came on a sigh.
Lights were flicking off, all around, as dawn lit the edge of the water outside.
"What about your friend...? Does he-"
"Klaus has no knowlegde of this place and never will. We're in an unnamed suite. As far as New York City is concerned, we are virtually non-existent."
She sighed in relief.
"So tell me about...well, who you were before."
The afterglow had faded into a weary calm.
"Very well," he sighed, wrapping his arms around her tightly. "I shall tell you."
1456
After a previous year of many many odd occurances and spreading rumours that my dear own Wallachia, (then a separate from Romania) was on Turkeys menu. This being the first year of my reign, it made me a somewhat hassled person. Royalty rarely had time for the luxeries of romantic freedom. I had a wife, at one point, by the name of Isobelle. But she died in the later onslaughts of the Turkish.
I suppose I mourned then, but now, death is belittled in the eyes of my own eternity, it is hard to feel sad for someone who would have died on the course of time anyways. My small brother and I held a joint prophecy over Wallachia, we were the golden boys of the country up until we had been captured by the Sultan of Turkey. Such fights we put up...yet in the end, Radu submitted to the novelty of becoming the pet of a great ruler. Of course, Prince Vladmir was having none of that. My surname in the time was Tepes, but they called us, our great order, the bloodline in which runs fighting blood, they called us all Dracula. It means The Son Of The Dragon. And that was the crest we carried in every war. The religious fervor that drove our kind had left me when the reins of power slipped from my hands into this stranger, this enemy. I fought him every moment he kept me in those menageries of indulgance and fat wealth. It disgusted me. I was no fat aristocrat, I was the Prince. I had duties and painstakenly taken political procedures that were made mockery of in this court of rich and overfed peacocks.
I rebelled, and rebelled, speaking out the horrors I would bring upon them. I would impale them like worms on hooks, I threatened, while the men forced me against the ground, binding me head to toe. So I decreed, the Sultan said, so I shall receive. They crucified me to the hard hot earth and left me there in the blinding heat. My skin cracked and bled. My mouth was dry, my limbs were lax from straining. I vowed vengeance. I vowed that I would never love the light of day again. Indeed, I was incredibly relieved when night fell.
Then something strange occured. Something almost inaudibly out of the ordinary. I developed something amounting to pnuemonia. A flu of the cold wet weather of Romania, not the hot dry of Turkey. They had left me there to die, but I did not die. I grew sick, more and more sick every day. As if every cell in my body was dying and being forced to work. All the colour pigment seemingly melted out of my body, and I was left with white skin. My blood was almost clear, now. I felt empty, dying of thirst, or just dying. Then, the equivalent of an explosion inside my chest. My lungs collasped. I was certain then that it was over. But there was more left for me. There had to be. I had vowed revenge.
One of the Sultans gaurds came out to prod what must have seemed like a carcass to him. Then, all semblance of humanity left me. I wrenched myself from the ground, and seized him by the neck, digging my teeth into his throat. Warm blood flooded my mouth, sending life and strength through my body. My skin rejuvinated. My hair turned instantly from matted dusty blonde to pure gold. Unimaginable strength coursed through me as I crushed the man's bones. Fang teeth had decended from my upper gums. Fangs with to rip and tear, fangs with which I would tear the throat of the bloated usurper. I would take back my country by sheer force, and I would make them all fear me.
Of course, later I discovered my many powers. The slight aversion to daylight. I stalked the edges of the palace, feeding on those who crossed my path. Rapture. Blood, sweet succulent substance, sustained me through the days and nights I planned to seize my brother from the grasp of the tyrant.
I made my way over the wall, walking in arrogant openess as I entered the court. None recognised me, save the Sultan himself. He called me a hallucination brought on by wine. I told him this was his last night on Earth. I demanded to know where my brother was. But I did not need to ask him. It was all there in his head.
Once my poor little brother had grown tired of being seduced by the Muslims, he realised that I had been gone far too long. He raged. He rebelled, as I had, but unlike me...he was not coming back.
I ripped through the mass of people, catching the Sultan unawares as I drove my fingers into his throat. He made a comical gargling noise before collapsing on the floor, only so much flesh. I fled to the dark forests of Wallachia, wrought with pain and guilt for not thinking sooner of my brother. His is probably the only death I placed any regret upon.
I loved my brother, and he had looked up to me. Now he wouldn't look at anything. But there was a legacy to create. True, in my first years, I made a right mess of being conspicous. Any failure to comply to my law (even if I had just though it up) resulted in impalement and display. But I was fair, and I protected my people until one night. A nearly fatal night fifty years later.
Anger, riot, such ideals of rebellion spread by foreigners. They rampaged after me like mad bulls, setting fire to everything on the grounds of Castle Dracula.
I lunged over the stone wall onto the stable roof, staring into the faces of the angry villagers below. They held for but a moment.
"DARE you rebel against me?" I roared, glaring down into their now-fearful faces. I could hear the panicked whinnying of horses below. I could smell fear permeating the place. The horses. Of course.
As they began to set my stable alight, I swung down and climb onto the bare back of Sygazi, my prize white purebred horse. I didn't need to spur him on, the fire raging at my back took care of the job by itself. We raced into the dark forest away from the blaze. Turning for a moment, I saw the glow spread over the horizon, my home tumble down into chaos. Cursing, I turned away and spurred my horse deeper into the woods.
Lucard paused, eyes looking at something Aria couldnt see. His thoughts were in the past, until he realised that Aria was looking at him.
"From then...I wandered, place to place, holding power wherever I went. I do like my control, you see..."
Aria laughed a low throaty laugh, purely feminine, purely sexual.
"Yes, I discerned that quite a while ago,"
He inhaled sharply, taking in the scent of her as he leant down and drew his lips along her neck.
"Control is the key to power, you know...power without control is simply..." he paused, tongue flicking out to taste her flesh.
"Chaotic.."
Aria pursed her lips, then pressed him back against the floor, and straddled him, taking him into her with a soft moan between them.
"Now I'm in control...what ARE you going to do, Alexander?"
He tilted his head back, closing his eyes as she rocked against him.
"Oh, I know when to cut my losses, milady..." he groaned as he felt the climax bridge through him. Aria tilted her head back, hair shimmering in the lights as she came with a whimper of pleasure. He caught her around the waist as she collapsed over him, gasping with exertion.
"Hmmmm...thirsty," she murmured into his hair while he caressed her neck with extended fangs.
"Then I suppose we must go out and get a bite, then, dearest?" he whispered, stroking her hair.
Aria nodded mutely, and lifted herself off him, stretching luxuriously.
Lucard stared appreciatively, licking his lips.
"Hmmm...the idea of making love to you again seems like a good one."
She chuckled softly, and went to retrieve her clothing.
"If I give you any more, it might start rumours about us..."
Lucard grinned widely, a classic guilty grin.
"I never start rumours."
"You might start bragging to all your vampire buddies."
His grin widened, white teeth sparkling. " I never kiss and tell. However, if I kiss you will you tell me what youre really up to?"
His response was to be hit by a pair of cotton slacks.
"Well, it's simple, actually. I locate him, and then we bring the media down on him hard. Where do you think he'll run to? I have international access. We can prosocute him for fraud whatever country he's in."
Lucard stroked her face with the back of his fingers.
"You're devious."
"Had a good teacher."
"After that, what do you plan to do?"
"Well..." Aria thought for a moment.
"We search the places that are the most derelict and unnoticed. Deep woods. Underground escapes."
"You can put enough attention to send the world on him? How exactly will you do that?" Lucard inquired softly, eyes staring directly into hers.
She smiled.
"We have just had word that the international criminal Klaus Helsing has fled from the authority's view and is currently in hiding somewhere in western Europe. At the time more accusations are coming out of the dark, and it's believed that this individual is a mass murderer and should be considered armed and HIGHLY dangerous, a photo could not be obtained, but his physical description is-" The yapping of the generic looking news reporter was sharply cut off as one leather shod foot went through the television screen.
Klaus Helsing stuck his tongue out at the ruined machine and then stood, pacing about the underground catacombs of Castle Vianden. Stealing a television and powering it had been childsplay, he recalled, but now he was left without means to track his own progress in the eyes of the media which that...that...BITCH had set on him. How DARE she get in his way? Damnit, all he wanted was to end the life of Alexander Lucard and seize financial control of the world, is that so much to ASK?!
Apparently, it was, he sighed in his own mind, stalking down the passage until he emerged into the dark forests of Lucard's properties. The least likely place that he would be found, but even now sirens were growing growing growing in his mind and he couldn't shut them out. Klaus stalked deeper into the woods, awaiting mortal faces that had seen him somehow...picked him up out of the darkness. Aria had a photo of him that had been handed out to local authorities. DAMNIT, the television had said no available pictures. They must have found the castle door ajar...
Now, the hounds...easily outrun. Klaus let himself mold into the shape of a black wolf, dashing through the underbrush with ease.The dogs were confused now, whimpering in the darkness. A bark of laughter rang out, and Klaus escaped into the depths of the woods.
Across the globe, the phone rang. Aria snatched it up, and stated "Constantine" very clearly.
"Miss Councilor, Helsing has been traced to Vianden Luxembourg..." the rest became meaningless chatter as she turned her eyes to Lucard.
"Vianden"
An Instant Later...
Lucard tilted his head up at the sky, ignorning the deafening sound of sirens that would woop every ten seconds, and the lights that flashed across the face of Castle Lucard. He inhaled the fading scent, and motioned to Aria with one finger, never turning his gaze from the wooded forest that covered the rolling hills all the way to the base of the mountains.
"He's there," he said, eyes directed on the foothills that reached up just before the ominous dark mountains. Snow had blanketed the jagged peaks, and Aria shuddered as she stared at the claustrophobic landmass. Lucard slid his arms around her waist and leaned over her shoulder, whispering as his lips caressed her ear, "He'll bury himself under the land and wait, for years upon years until the world forgets him..."
"For being insane, he's pretty intelligent," she said, turning her head to stare at him.
"Unfortunately."
Lucard led Aria along to the back of the closest wall, and watched her intently.
"Now...this might be a bit shocking...but please don't scream..."
Aria arched a brow.
"What could possibly...Oh..my...God..."
Lucard's face had suddenly enlongated. His handsome visage became sharper and more defined as waves of white fur rippled across him. The rest of him sank to the ground and his clothes sort of...sucked up into his body as his arms and legs became slender. Another wave of white fur rippled across his back, and a white wolf looked up at her, deadly intellegence in those golden eyes.
"Jesus Christ," Aria muttered, looking down at the wolf, who seemed to smile.
"You could have warned me"
*Indeed I could have, but that wouldn't have been very fun,* rang a voice in her head. She glared at him as he licked the furry mane of his chest in a strange catlike motion.
"You bastard. Okay, now tell me how to do it,"
*Envision a wolf. Envision yourself becoming that wolf*
She sighed, then held a picture in her mind as suddenly her legs and arms reversed direction. Her face became pointed, and she let out a little whimper of fear that sounded much like a dog whining. Silver-white fur swept over her with a strange soft brushing feeling. Soon a myriad of scents and feelings flooded her conscious. She could SMELL...everything.
Klaus had shifted a mile from here. Dogs had been to find him...she could smell their blood now. The other wolf glanced over at her, golden eyes shimmering, a mirror of her own almost white blue eyes. She leaned back and sniffed the air, suppressing a mad desire to howl. Her human mind was barely surfaced, she realised. The wolf had control.
*Go along with the instincts, my dear...* Lucard said softly, a voice almost like having internal dialog with herself. Her instincts said run. Thousends of years of evolution told her to run, forward into the night. She ran.
Muscles surging in rapid fire motion as they dodged trees, leaped over fallen logs, and through streams. In a matter of moments the smell of the new wolf became stronger. Lucard stopped, tongue lolling out. Aria did the same, and looked back and forth. Then she heard a growl.
*Alexander...*
*Above*
A pitch black wolf dropped from the trees, and lunged forward at Lucard, snarling.
*HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA* a third voice now. Goddamn, this was starting to hurt her head. Lucard leaned back on his hind legs and shifted gracefully back to himself. Aria hid behind a tree and melted back to herself as well.
"Show yourself, Klaus," he commanded to the wolf.
"I have put up with your games long enough.."
Klaus appeared suddenly from the black wolf. He leered at the elder vampire.
"It's been far too long...someone needs to put you out of your misery, Alexander. Someone has for a long time," he said, showing his teeth in a demented smile.
"Please Klaus, to think you could ever measure up to me. Even if you suceeded, the world knows you now...they'll find you, and they'll wrap you up in plastic and turn you into a scientific experiment. And they'll find you every time you try to escape. They'll dig you up and extinguish you."
Klaus growled, and lunged forward, seemingly moving in slow motion to Aria's enhanced eyes. His eyes had turned completely golden, over the whites and his pupils,and his fangs extended. He looked completely deranged, spittle flying from his mouth as he surged through the air.
Lucard spun back as if in slow motion again, his arm a blur as he swept it down on Klaus's back. He skidded forward into the dirt. Lucard picked him up, claws extending from his fingers as he ripped into his throat, his expression a terrifyingly gleeful one.
His eyes were a raging golden, fangs extended fully as he roared in an animalistic fashion. Aria shuddered once, as blood poured from Klaus's ruined throat. Then...all at once, Klaus shoved Lucard back against a tree. One branch impaled through him.He gasped, eyes turning slowly to white. Aria screamed, and raced forward, pulling him off the branch before he started to disintigrate.
"Aria...darling," he gasped through blood.
"Alexander...please..."
"It grazed my heart, my love...I need..."
The answer lingered there.
Aria bent down and tilted her head to the side. Lucard closed his eyes, and closed his mouth over her neck, drinking slowly, even in his pain, taking time to savor the sweet intoxication. Then, just as her eyes fluttered, he pulled back, and lifted her into his arms, staring down at the remains of Klaus. Blood had leaked in rivers from him, and he was an empty shell. A withered skeleton.
Ah, but the soul was still there. He was forever trapped in that horrible immobile husk. The eyes watched him, and he could see him screaming inside. Lucard laughed. His laughter rang across the forest with a startling intensity, a deep cruelty and malice.
"Pleasant dreams, Klaus."
Aria woke curled up in a luscious silk and velvet furnished bed. She let out a little gasp as her eyes fluttered open. Blood, fresh, had been infused with hers, and it offered warmth. She sat up, taking in the unfamilliar scene of Lucard's private rooms. The walls were of dark gray stone, tapestries hanging around the room that would have normally been too large to be cozy, yet with the fireplace and the flowers, carpets and desk and bookshelves it managed it. Candlabras surrounded the room, casting a golden glow over everything. Aria shifted as Lucard's bare arms encircled her.
"Good morning, dearest..."
He whispered, nuzzling his face into her neck. She tilted her head to the side, and regarded him with a mischevious smile.
"Mmm..tired...what about Klaus?"
"Ohh...I buried him under the castle..."
"What's left of him you mean?"
He nodded slowly, grinning a cruel grin as he traced his fingers across her lips.
"Yes, indeed...what's left of him.."
Aria sifted her fingers through his golden hair, and pulled him down against her, as he crushed his lips to hers...
"You were tired a second ago."
"I woke up..."
The flames flickered out, and the resounding sound of a soft moan echoed in the high room.
"Mmmmmm...Alexander..."
Epilogue
Aria finally gave up immigration defense, and worked for Lucard personally. Her international status, however, had been retained in the coming years on account of one A. Lucard. Her place in New York was kept, but she now had estates in Italy, France and Luxembourg. As Lucard's personal defense lawyer, among other things, she spent time travelling all over the world for business and sealing legal deals.
But in the end she was always drawn back to Vianden, where Lucard would spend night and day granting her slightest desire. Even more so enthusiastic in the bedroom. Whispered secrets became treasured memories and wherever she went, she wore a silver rook pin on her collar. Killing time, or killing people, odd moments would float up in her mind like the night that she and Lucard embraced a business enemy from both sides, dipping their fangs into his neck....ooooooh, shivers.
And the brilliant chessgames between them, the fantastic tales of his past which he would confide to her in the security of his bedroom. But he never told her the tormented position he had left Klaus in. No, he was a memory to be erased, he decided. Aria kissed his neck tenderly, and sighed contentedly, almost purring. Far below, under thousands of pounds of rock, rubble and decay, Klaus screamed, unheard by anyone but himself.
"DRACULA!!!!!!!!!!!"
Posted by lucardindustries
at 7:52 PM PST
Updated: Wednesday, 24 November 2004 8:12 PM PST
