LILITH’S LOVE
Dan Shaurette
Smashwords Edition
Copyright 2010 Dan Shaurette
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living, dead, or undead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
"Deranged" Lyrics Copyright © 1993 by The Narrow Way. Used with permission.
This novel is also available in print and as a serialized podcast audiobook.
Please visit Liliths-Love.com or DanShaurette.com for more stories and information.
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
To the gem I cherish most.
Everything comes full circle,
and this book is no exception.
To be sure, this book is dedicated to
all of the women in my life;
no list could ever be complete.
Prologue
This story is true. The names have been changed to protect the innocent and the not-so-innocent. The places really exist. The events truly took place. The lives remain wholly affected more than a decade later.
Again, I wish to thank Donovan for the use of his journal entries, and Chris, Anna and Lilith for allowing me to tell their story, even though it was so long ago. This is their story. They have other stories, and, if they allow me to, perhaps I will visit them and write their stories down again. I would be very honored.
Let it be known: it would be foolish to dismiss these events lightly. If DRACULA taught us anything, it is that Humanity needs to be reminded that vampires do exist. Friend or foe; angel or devil; lover or lethal -- they are among us. This remains as true as when Stoker collected his friends’ diary entries.
Cases of vampirism and witchcraft have been demonstrated and validated throughout the centuries and across the borders of many lands. The faiths of many have been tested, and have proved that vampirism and witchcraft are more than legend. “If these proofs are in error, then,” as Ambrose Bierce put it, “Human Testimony and Reason are alike destitute of value.”
“‘Where shall I begin, please your Majesty?’ he asked.
‘Begin at the beginning,’ the King said, gravely,
‘and go on till you come to the end: then stop.’”
-- Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland
Chapter One
The monitor crackled to life when Donovan turned it on. As his computer came on next, he heard the hard drive spin up, a sound that was music to his ears. Then a small tune played, announcing that his computer had booted up and was ready.
Late last night, Donovan finished his latest program, an electronic journal. His friend Christian called it “Don’s Digital Diary” as a joke, but Donovan called it his “McJournal”; a play on his surname, McElroy. Double-clicking on the “McJournal” icon brought up a dark, foreboding picture with a message in bright, blood-red letters that spelled:
LASCIATE OGNI SPERANZA, VOI, CH’ENTRATE!
Confused, Chris asked, “What is that? It looks Greek to me.”
Don snickered and said, “Actually, it’s Italian . . . ‘Abandon all hope, ye that enter here!’”
Chris stopped for a second then realized its source and proclaimed triumphantly, “Ah! Dante’s Inferno . . . engraved outside the entrance to Hell. Where did you find the original Italian version?”
Don sneered comically and replied, “I’ve studied more than Computer Science, y’know!”
Chris laughed and said, “Perhaps it should be ‘Dante’s Digital Diary’.” Then, seeing Donovan’s rather odd smirk, added, “Or perhaps not.” Don’s grin widened, and Chris laughed again.
Don entered his password, and Chris wanted to laugh out loud when he saw how long it was. He couldn’t read it because only a string of asterisks appeared on the screen and Don typed too fast for Chris to read his keystrokes. Chris said, “You’re kidding, right? What’s with such a long password? How long is it?”
“It’s 29 characters long . . . ought to keep even you out of it.” Then he added, “But don’t panic. I wrote the program to set up multiple journals, each with unique passwords possible.”
Chris thought that was cool, but wasn’t sure why Don did this for him. After trying to think of a clever retort, and failing, he gave up, and simply asked, “So -- ?”
Don smirked. “So you can use this program, too. That is, if you’d like an electronic journal. I’m not sure what I’d write in it, but I thought it’d be cool to have, just in case.”
“Just in case of what, pray tell?”
“Just in case anything exciting should ever happen, God forbid.” The two laughed together over that thought. Chris gave Don a pat on the back and said, “Thanks, Don. I suppose I could find a use for it . . . even if it is just to figure out what your bloody password is. Ha!” Then he bolted out of the room in a classic slapstick retreat.
Donovan McElroy and Christian Armstrong had known each other since the sixth grade. Even back then, Chris was the skinny one and Don was overweight. They reminded people even then of some classic comic duos. At times, however, it was hard to tell which was the silly one and which one delivered the setup. Their fellow Arizona natives might have compared them to Wallace & Ladmo. Others might consider Abbott & Costello or Laurel & Hardy.
Don enjoyed having his best friend live with him. He could never seem to thank Chris enough for moving in and keeping him company after his parents died. In fact, Donovan decided that would be his first entry in his new journal -- the events leading up to his parents’ death and Chris’ moving in.
* * *
McJournal Entry for 10/06/93
It was a dark and stormy night . . . well it had been, for an October night in Phoenix. I thought my car was gonna float away . . . with ME in it! I mean, really, 19th Avenue and Grand was a bloody lake! If this weather keeps up, it’s gonna be another wet Fair. I can’t wait . . . The State Fair will be celebrating the 100th anniversary of the Ferris Wheel (about the only ride I’ll go on, hehehe). Okay, okay . . . let’s try the intro again...
Dear Diary,
Oh, I know that’s cliché, too, but it fits better than the first one. Anyway, I just thought I’d tell you how this year of 1993 has treated me, so far.
Christian Armstrong, my friend since grade school -- y’know, the one who moved to California eons ago, or so it seems. He called me one mid-winter’s evening, somewhere around the middle of January. He gave me great news -- he wanted to strike out on his own, and wanted to move back to Phoenix! This year has really been a roller-coaster, if I may continue with the Fair motif, but it started here on a very high point.
Of course, I helped him move his things into storage when he arrived -- it was the least I could do. He stayed with his grandparents here in town until he was able to find a good job. He didn’t want to live off anyone, but he appreciated the offer to stay as long as he needed. He didn’t intend to stay too long. He really wanted to make it on his own . . . I admired that.
I was twenty and I still lived with my parents, which Chris could never understand -- that is, how anyone could be dependent on their parents THAT long. Little did either of us expect that this would change as soon as it did.
I turned 21 in February, and Chris and I celebrated by his buying me dinner -- he had found a job! A great one, too. So it was a dual celebration. Secretly that night, my parents were coming home from the store with things needed to throw me a surprise birthday party. I learned later that Chris and my parents had planned the surprise party together.
When Chris and I got back to my place, we weren’t greeted by my parents yelling “SURPRISE,” but by a totally dark and quiet house. Chris looked puzzled and jumped nervously when we heard a knock on the door behind us. A policeman standing there asked which one of us was Donovan Andrew McElroy. I stepped forward, nervously bracing myself for bad news . . . I wasn’t strong enough for what he told me. He said that my parents were killed in a car accident -– the victims of a drunk driver, who was also killed in the crash. Thank God Chris was there to help me. I was in such shock that my mind didn’t fully comprehend what had happened, or what the future would hold. This was the lowest point on the roller coaster of 1993.
Fortunately, I had smart, caring parents who had planned for . . . well, their eventual time. Funeral arrangements made in advance placed them in plots next to each other. Their wills left everything to me, as I was their only child. The house was now mine, as well as enough money to pay for the remaining part of my college education and other bills. Of course, I would need to get a job eventually. For now, however, I could rest easy, knowing that they cared this much for me. The roller coaster was tilting up again.
Chris told me that he’d be there for me when I needed him, and, well, I asked him a favor . . . a major favor. I asked him if he’d found a place of his own yet. When he heard the question, he smiled, knowing what I’d ask him next, and he said he’d be happy to move in with me. I thanked him, and I felt closer to him then than I ever felt to anyone. He’s a true friend.
He’s lived here ever since. We’ve been keeping an eye on the house next door. I figure that he’ll again want to move out on his own when he can afford it. The house next door was open to renters for a couple months, but now the real estate company has put it up for sale. I wonder if Chris still has designs to move there now that it’s for sale.
At any rate, he’s lived here for about eight months now, and I’m glad that he’s here.
Update you later, Diary . . . hasta!
P.S. Chris . . . if you ever crack my password and read this . . . I’ll hunt you down and . . . and . . . make you watch “Beverly Hills, 90210” . . . so help me!
* * *
The storm picked up strength again so Don stopped there and headed on to bed. That night, Don dreamed. Don always dreamed, but he rarely remembered anything of consequence. He liked to believe that the ones he could remember came true. It had happened before, as did many stranger things.
That night he had a dream about a beautiful woman who beckoned him to her. Every night, Don had similar dreams, each ending before he could reach her. The circumstances were different, the settings, too, but the same beautiful, copper-reddish-haired woman always called to him.
Don woke abruptly the next morning to the annoying squeal of his hated alarm clock. “Just five more minutes,” he whimpered, but the alarm never relented until Don got out of bed to shut it up. By that time, Don was up and moving, and figured he might as well just keep going.
He moved on towards the bathroom, ready to take a shower, not remembering a single event from his dream. He only had the distinct feeling that with five more minutes’ sleep he might have had a satisfying night’s rest.
“Only be sure that thou eat not the blood:
for the blood is the life;
and thou mayest not eat the life with the flesh.”
-- Deuteronomy 12:23
Chapter Two
The darkness always comforted her, but now she needed more than comfort: she needed shelter. Another day was dawning outside, and it was time for Lilith to move on. She was found again by the Hunters, and needed to escape.
Her dear friend, Anna, vowed that she’d help her escape. New Orleans was no longer the safe haven that it was long ago. Anne Rice’s novels had turned it into a haven for vampire wannabes and a Mecca for would-be slayers.
Lilith was no stranger to wanderlust. She often needed to leave the security and tranquility of a home at the most inopportune time. As a result, she learned not to become attached to many physical possessions. This included her estate in New Orleans, though she couldn’t help loving the house and the atmosphere of this town. New Orleans made her feel truly alive. However, she knew she had to leave yet another home behind.
She was able to sell the estate for a reasonable price. She knew the property was worth much more, but she wanted the money immediately, and took what she could get for it. Afterwards, she decided to visit the bank and finish some business there.
The bank manager was disappointed to find out that Lilith would be making a withdrawal – and a substantial one at that. Lilith was by no means poor, but she didn’t live extravagantly, either. She decided, after much deliberation, that it would be best to take her cash with her. Ultimately, she didn’t want to leave a paper trail for the Hunters to follow. She assumed that once she reached her destination she would buy a new house and start a new life.
The question of destination haunted Lilith and her friend. Lilith had a crazy desire to go to Arizona. She had heard that the scenery was breathtakingly beautiful and that the weather was warm and inviting.
“But, Phoenix?” asked Anna worriedly. “It’s the ‘Valley of the Sun,’ for cryin’ out loud!” she continued. Lilith appreciated and acknowledged her friend’s concern, but she replied with a grin, “True enough, but you must admit that it’s the last place you’d expect to find a vampire.”
* * *
As the dawn was threatening to rise outside, the ladies gathered up all of their desired, transportable belongings from the house. They didn’t have much time to prepare for this impromptu journey so their mode of transport was short on space. They were able to rent a small yet suitable trailer which they hooked up to Anna’s beat-up white Dodge van.
In the back of the van, Lilith put her travel trunk . . . her portable sleeping quarters. She gave up sleeping in her coffin ages ago. The trunk’s chief advantage was that it could get past customs easier than some dusty old pine box that should have been six feet under.
The trunk was easy to travel with, and she easily found her comfort in it. In the bottom of the trunk, she always kept a mattress filled with down -- and earth. It was comfortable enough to sleep in, though Lilith would have preferred a bed to her trunk, with similar mattresses laden with her home-earth. As Lilith loaded the van with her trunk, she had already started thinking about a nice bed and how good it would feel after a few days of traveling in this trunk.
Putting her new road atlas in the front passenger’s seat reminded Anna of what the man who sold her the book told her the night before. “Get yerself onto In’erstate 10 and jus’ head west, cherie. That road’ll take ya right into Phoenix, sure ’nuff.” When Anna got home with the map, she and Lilith planned their route along I-10, noting places of interest to make stops at for the night.
They also noted the number of rivers they’d have to cross. It was fewer than they expected, but they needed to plan their crossings over them. Lilith was strong enough to cross bridges, but she preferred not to deal with the pain that crossing over running water often caused her. While Lilith sleeps during the day, she is oblivious to the passage, however, and that is how they planned their trip.
They’d be crossing their first river early today. They’d have to cross the Mississippi River, no less, on their way out of Baton Rouge. They decided to make their first stop Houston, Texas, which would be an approximately five-and-a-half hour trip.
It was about 6:40 A.M. when they loaded up everything they needed. Time for them to hit the road; well, time for Lilith to rest in her trunk while Anna drove to Houston. As Lilith stepped into her box, Anna reassured her friend that there would be no need to worry.
“When the sun sets and you wake tonight, we’ll be in Houston. We’ll go out for a night on the town. How does that sound?” Anna asked. Lilith yawned, and replied sleepily, “It sounds good . . . well, be careful up there.” Anna smiled, and watched her friend lie down and curl up in her box. She closed the lid of the trunk, and then the van door.
As Anna got into the driver’s seat, her watch’s alarm went off to signal that it was now 6:45 A.M. She closed the door, and looked through the side window to the east, when she saw the first rays of sunlight begin to appear.
The darkness truly comforted Lilith now. She could sense that the sun was rising because that sweet oblivion, that small piece of slumber’s freedom, was creeping over her. Since becoming a vampire, she wondered if she ever truly slept, since she never had a single dream. The only disturbances to her rest came if she wasn’t sleeping on her mattress of earth; then she would be restless.
However, even though she was comfortably situated on her mattress now, she had a dream! The dream started with her walking in the sunshine again. She felt the gentle rays of sunlight warm her long-cold flesh. She felt almost human again. Then the dream vanished as fast as it came. It felt to her to be only a few seconds. In actuality, the day was over, and the sun had just gone down.
Slightly worried about what had just happened, Lilith practically threw open the lid of her trunk, to find herself in a nice motel room. She sat up, and saw a slightly startled Anna, who, in response to Lilith’s dazed look, said, “Welcome to Houston, sleepy head.”
* * *
“You did what?” asked Anna, trying to confirm her hearing.
“I dreamt!” repeated Lilith ecstatically. “It was the first time I can remember dreaming since I became immortal. It was amazing! I felt like I was enjoying the sunshine again. Unfortunately, it was very short.”
“Well, don’t knock it for its length. Anyway, how is this possible? I thought you said that you couldn’t dream.”
“Well, anything’s possible.” Then she held her arms open as if to say that she was proof of that.
Anna conceded, “Touché, mon amie. But, still, how? Any ideas?”
“Well, the only theory I have is that Time allowed me to ‘mature’ again.”
“I don’t follow . . .”
“Remember, I told you that there was a time, in my early stage of immortality, that I couldn’t cross rivers or other areas of running water?”
“Yeah, but now you can . . . or we wouldn’t be here in Houston.”
“Exactly . . . I can cross, but I still feel some slight pain. During the day, at my rest, is, of course, the ideal time, though. The point is, as I matured as a vampire, the pain from running water has subsided.”
Finally understanding her friend, Anna added, “So you believe that you have now reached a stage where dreaming is possible? Amazing. So what do you believe the dream means?”
“I think it’s obvious, if it truly is evolution, that it’s possible that someday I can reach a stage where I can enter sunlight without pain.” Lilith pondered the wonderful possibility.
“That’s wild . . . but I hope you don’t have any illusions about running around outside in the daylight tomorrow.” She gave an uneasy smile.
“Of course not, but I do feel like enjoying a night on the town tonight.”
Anna felt too tired to enjoy going out that night. She hadn’t fully realized how tiring almost six hours of non-stop driving could be. She decided she would get an early night’s rest, and be fully refreshed for tomorrow’s drive. Perhaps the next night she might be persuaded to enjoy some nightlife.
Lilith, however, needed to get out and enjoy some “night life” of her own. She wished her friend a good night, and told her that she’d see her in the morning. She quietly left their room, locking the door behind her.
When she was outside, she looked around to see if anyone was about. Satisfied that she was alone with the night, she stepped out of the lights, into the shadows, and dispersed into a mist. Lilith had to admit it; there were times that she enjoyed being a vampire. One thing that traveling in this form didn’t afford her was vision. She only had a type of ethereal sense of touch, coupled with a heightened sense of hearing.
She let the gentle Texas breeze carry her. It drifted her northward from her downtown Houston motel room. She crossed a few streets and passing cars that changed the direction of her carrier wind to a northwestern one. A few more streets and more slight changes in speed and direction of wind brought her to what felt softer than the concrete she’d just been hovering above.
Suddenly she felt a familiar pain course through her. The pain distracted her enough to cause her to return to her human form. She materialized standing knee-deep in water. Instinctively, she ran onto shore to a small park, a landing for the Buffalo Bayou, as fast as she could. Two things slowed her down; the currents were slightly against her, and the other was her unnatural resistance through running water.
Once she did get to ground, she felt the cool grass of the park; the soft ground she drifted over just prior to the water pains. She just laid down in the grass, looking up at the stars. She saw one bright “star” in the heavens that night.
She thought to herself that it couldn’t be Venus, for it didn’t shine as brightly. Nothing in the night sky shines as bright as Venus, save the moon of course. The moon was new tonight so its light was absent. She decided it must be Saturn. She imagined that she saw the rings around it. Her unaided eyes were powerful enough that she might have been able to see Saturn’s rings, had she actually wanted to focus in on them.
An old song slowly made its way to her recollection and she began to sing, “The stars at night, are big and bright.” She clapped four times and burst out laughing, but tried to continue to sing, “deep in the heart of Texas.”
She then came to the solid realization that she wasn’t in Louisiana anymore. She wasn’t in her beloved New Orleans. She might never get to see the mighty Mississippi River and its levied banks again. Maybe it’s just as well, she thought to herself; the delta that New Orleans was built on is sinking. It might just become the next Venice. She then shuddered at the idea of needing to get around town in a gondola. No amount of justification eased her anger, however.
Damn those Hunters! What a bunch of fools they are to try to hunt me down, she thought. I’d be a bigger fool had I stayed. Mob mentalities have a way of justifying foolishness.
As she continued to gaze up at the twinkling stars, she felt that familiar tugging feeling. She was hungry. Lilith tried to avoid feeding on anything but animal blood. However, being in a new town, she had no idea where she could find such a meal. So, she thought she’d just find a “lost soul” somewhere. Besides it had been a while since she last satisfied her hunger, and other desires, with a human.
* * *
“So, what does a lady have to do to get a drink around here?” she asked the bartender as she sat down on a stool. “What can I get for you, darlin’?” was the bartender’s quick reply, though it was obvious that he was tripping over his words. Lilith was the only woman in the bar, and was probably the first one the barkeep had seen in there in a while.
“Bloody Mary, and hold the celery,” she softly replied, laying the influence on thick. As the bartender hurried off to mix her drink, Lilith noticed the mirrored wall behind the shelves of drinks and the absence of her reflection. She had to stop and focus her thoughts for a moment, closing her eyes to concentrate.
When she opened them again, she saw her reflection. It takes a little effort but casting a reflection is no longer a problem. Just one more reason for her to think that there were stages of development to her immortality. Being able to eat and drink something besides blood was another. Although she gained no sustenance from eating, it added to the masquerade.
“Here you are, no celery,” said the bartender triumphantly as he set the tall glass on the bar. He then added, “and it’s on the house,” as if it was his chivalric idea to do so, though it wasn’t. Lilith finished the act by saying “Thanks, love,” then she leaned over the bar and kissed him on the cheek. The bartender actually blushed.
She then got up and walked around the bar, nursing her drink. She found the pool room in the back. Two guys, obviously drunk, were attempting to play pool. They were even betting on the game, and the pile of money was fairly large. Lilith had wondered how many times they’d bet “double or nothing” that night.
She leaned up against the wall, staring at the men, slowly sipping from her Bloody Mary. The men were either too involved in their game or blind drunk, because they didn’t notice her immediately.
When one of the men, the more handsome of the two, looked up from the table and saw her, she winked. The man then missed his shot terribly. Lilith wondered if it was because she distracted him, or if he was irretrievably drunk. The other guy missed his shot as well. When the handsome one stepped back up to the table, Lilith blew him a kiss. That must have sobered him up instantly, for he proceeded to sink his last two balls, followed by the eight ball. At that, Lilith clapped softly for the victor.
The other guy, quite upset, and obviously broke, called it a night and huffed out of the room. The winner walked up to the pile of cash and stuffed it into his pockets and some into his wallet. He then walked slowly up to Lilith and stated the obvious to her, “You’re new to these parts.”
She smirked as she slipped her free hand into a pocket of her skin-tight blue jeans and slyly said “Yes, and I just love pool halls. Unfortunately, I don’t have any money.” The man was observant and noted the drink, which he eyed to call to her attention. She replied, “It was on the house.”
“Joe always was a sucker for a beautiful lady like yourself.”
“Thank you, mister...?”
“Rob. Rob Stevens.”
“Well, Rob, how about a friendly game of pool?”
“How friendly?”
“Well, if you win, you can take me to your place.”
“And if you win?”
“You can take me to your place.”
“Very friendly. I like those odds.”
“They’re in both our favors,” and with that she racked up the balls, bending over the table, quite obviously displaying her cleavage. Rob almost tripped as he stepped back from the table, noticing that she wasn’t wearing a bra under her red tank top. “Ladies first, miss...?”
She stepped back up to the table, cue stick in hand, gently rolling it back and forth, eyeing the cue ball. “Lilith Thompson,” she said, and with a quick strike, the cue ball clapped against the racked balls, knocking in two striped balls right from the start.
Lilith loved billiards, and she had plenty of time throughout her immortality to perfect her playing skills. She often hustled those taken by her beautiful appearance. This time, she wasn’t playing for money. It didn’t matter, apparently, for what she played. She was very good; poor Rob didn’t step up to the table once.
As the eight ball, the last ball, was sunk, she turned to Rob who had a slightly disappointed look on his face. “Damn, you’re good. What a hustler. Good thing money wasn’t at stake. Would you like to give me a shot to play, at least?”
“You don’t really want to stay here and play pool, do you?” and she gave a playful, pouting look.
“No, ma’am. I do believe a bet is a bet.”
Lilith smiled and said, “I do believe you are right.” She then walked over to her Bloody Mary, which she had nursed so well that it was only half drunk by now. She turned to Rob, knowing full well that he hadn’t taken his eyes off her at all, and practically swallowed the rest. She then licked the salt and pepper off the rim and licked her lips seductively. As she walked up to him, she swayed her hips.
When she put her arm around him and the two walked out of the pool area, she wondered if she was laying it all on too thick. As the two walked past the bar, she could tell that Joe the bartender was jealous. Yes, she thought, I’m pouring it on thick. But when I’m good, I’m very, very good. Tonight, I’m feeling bad.
* * *
As Lilith and Rob arrived at the front door to his apartment, she gently rubbed her hands along his back and neck from behind him. This made it more difficult for him to calmly find the key to his apartment. She kissed his neck on his left side when he finally got the door open. He let out a sigh of relief that changed to a satisfied moan as she moved to the right side.
Not necessarily rushing in, he moved inside with Lilith tagging along, giggling. He half-mumbled, half-stuttered, “P-please excuse the m-mess. I wasn’t expectin’ c-company.” She giggled again and softly whispered, “I didn’t follow you home to examine your decor. Where’s your bathroom? I’d like to make myself more . . . comfortable,” and then blew in his ear.
“It’s down the hall, past the kitchen, to your right.”
She kissed him deeply and longingly, a preview of what was to come. Then she walked down to the bathroom. Before entering, she noted the bedroom just beyond the bathroom entrance and called back to him, “I’ll meet you in there.” Then she blew a kiss to him. He wasn’t sure, but he thought he actually felt it land on his cheek. She then walked into the bathroom, turned the light on, and closed the door behind her.
Frantic with anticipation, Rob ran into his bedroom, turned on the light, and tried to make the room presentable -- at least try to hide dirty clothing by kicking it all into his closet. He then made his bed neat, knowing full well that the sheets would probably be tossed around that night. He heard the bathroom door open behind him, so he spun around, turned the light off, and sat on the edge of the bed, waiting. Heart pounding. Blood pumping. Adrenaline escalating.
Light from a streetlamp outside was gently streaming through the venetian blinds on his bedroom window. The penetrating beams gave the room just enough light to cast mysterious, yet alluring shadows all around.
She turned the bathroom light off, then slowly walked out clothed only in a black silk and lace nightie. The black was a striking contrast to her milky white flesh, which was now nearly all exposed and was radiant in the dim light. The light from the lamp in the hallway behind her bounced playfully about her head and shoulders, highlighting her flowing, shiny, copper-red hair.
Taking in this spectacle, drinking it in like the beers he’d had that night, he suddenly realized that he was still fully clothed. He immediately took his boots off, but Lilith told him to stop before he could remove anything else.
She walked over to the bed, crept behind him and sat on the bed, and then she wrapped her legs around his waist. She kissed him on the neck and slowly undid the buttons on his shirt. Then she reached into his jeans where his shirt was tucked in and pulled it out and took it off him.
After she threw it aside, she wrapped her arms around his chest and began softly caressing it. She then saw a gold chain around his neck from the back. It must have been hiding well in that shirt, she thought and hoped it wasn’t carrying a cross. She moved her hands higher along his chest and found what was hanging in front; it was a crucifix. Nevertheless, she wasn’t frightened at all, so this one’s faith in such baubles was lax, especially tonight. It wasn’t going to protect him tonight, so she let him wear it.
She whispered to him to stand up and face her. He did so, most obligingly, and then she undid his belt and the button-fly on his blue jeans. As she pulled them down, she revealed a pair of boxer shorts with red hearts on them, to his embarrassment, and her amusement. This one was obviously a lady-killer, which suited her fine because she’d been known to do some killing of her own. However, that was a long time ago. Tonight she would only feed to his point of exhaustion, not a drop more. He would suffer no ill effects, save a neck-ache for a few days.
She leaned backwards to lie upon the bed. He quickly took his cue, slipped out of his jeans and socks, and was now wearing nothing but his boxers. Lilith almost giggled again, but restrained herself when she saw how well built and handsome he was. She was distracted by the crucifix again, however, so she asked him to remove it. He agreed and with a mischievous grin he removed the chain and cross and placed it on his dresser beside his bed. Out of sight and out of mind.
Then, with a beckoning finger, she lured him onto his bed. Once in, she pounced on top of him, caressing his chest, then his legs, and started kissing his neck again. Meanwhile, he was busy feeling the soft, silky nightie that she was wearing and found the zipper in the back. As he started to unzip, she sat up. Her blazing red bangs flopped messily over her eyes as she did so.
Rob playfully displayed a poutful look, which was answered by a wide grin from Lilith. She then reached behind her and easily unzipped the back of her nightie, which released the pressure on her bosom, and caused her breasts to appear to inflate. She then slowly crawled backwards, pulling his ridiculous boxer shorts off, and stepped off the bed.
He was again embarrassed by the shorts, and when they were removed, she noticed his distraction. So, standing at the end of the bed, she tossed the shorts aside. She then slipped the straps of her nightie off her shoulders, and the outfit slowly drifted down her body. It revealed a shapely and firm bosom and torso, almost statuesque in proportion, unlike anything Rob had ever seen in his short life.
Lilith then climbed slowly back onto the bed, moving stealthily and gracefully like a cat towards him. In his highly excited imagination, he thought he actually heard her purring. When she was directly above him, he grabbed her and pulled her down, flat on top of him. He wanted to feel her skin on his. He was surprised that she was fairly cold to the touch. As he was pondering ways to warm her up, she kissed him deeply. Lips enmeshed, tongues entangled.
She bent her head down and started to kiss the nape of his neck. She could feel the throbbing jugular vein. She could taste the salty sweat on the flesh above his carotid artery. She raised her head back, extended her canines, and then gently thrust them into his soft neck.
The warm blood welled up quickly into her mouth and she drank deeply as Rob let out a wail that was due to the simultaneous pain and pleasure he felt. With the blood rushing from his neck to her mouth, each draught brought blood from all over his body.
Having satiated her thirst, her hunger, and her undead libido, she slowed down her rate of withdrawal, and finally licked away any dribbled streams of blood from Rob’s neck. As she backed away from him, she could see that he’d fainted. She quickly ran to the bathroom to wet a washcloth and grab a small container from her jeans pocket.
She cleaned up the immediate area around the neck with the cloth. She then opened the container to reveal a healing salve. She dabbed some of the salve onto the washcloth and then proceeded to coat the tiny wounds with the substance. This salve would help heal the wounds with no scars by morning. It was a little something that Anna made for her. Lilith found many values in having Anna as a friend, including the fact that she was a Wiccan herbalist.
She then quickly, yet orderly, slipped the unconscious man back into his clothes. Knowing he was in fact oblivious to her, she laughed freely about the boxers. The difficult part was the crucifix. She picked it up by the chain and gazed at it. She did not feel any fear from the crucifix and had a chance to admire it for its craftsmanship. It’s a pity that it is worn by someone with little or no faith in it, she thought. To be sure, though, she grasped the cross in her fist. To her surprise, and pleasure, she felt no pain from holding it. No faith at all then, she believed and placed it around his neck. She then bent down and kissed him again.
“You were wonderful, and if I might add, tasty. It’s a shame you won’t remember this as much more than a wet dream, Rob. Au’revoir,” she said as she bent down to grab her clothes, the washcloth, and the salve. She walked into the bathroom and put all of her clothes back on as quickly as she could. She looked in the mirror, and after noticing that there was no reflection, she concentrated on casting one.
Slowly, her image focused onto the mirror, and she noticed some blood on her face. She wiped it off with the washcloth, and then brushed her hair with a small brush from Rob’s bathroom. She adjusted her outfit to a proper fit, tucked her salve back into her pocket, and walked out of the bathroom.
As soon as she turned around, her reflection vanished as she turned out the light. She slowly walked through the living room, opened the front door just a crack to peer outside the apartment. She then stepped out and locked the door behind her. When she decided that it was quiet and dark enough, she took to the sky.
* * *
As she flew above the streetlamps, she climbed above a few small clouds. She knew the motel was northeast of Rob’s apartment, along the same street. She flew along the way of the road below, interestingly enough, against the one-way traffic below her.
She suddenly felt an amazingly strong tugging at her from below. It wasn’t the same pain as running water, so she drifted down through the clouds to investigate. As she broke through, she discovered that she was hovering over a catholic cathedral.
Rob’s forsaken crucifix was one thing, but this was entirely different. Upon seeing the holy spires of the building, fear of faith gripped her and she lost her concentration and fell hard to the ground.
Since she had just fed, and on strong human blood, not that of an animal, she was strong enough to suffer nothing but the shock of the impact. However, she had to get as far away from the cathedral as possible. Flying was out of the question, because she didn’t want to risk weakening again. Walking seemed like the best idea at the time.
So she walked along a different street as she’d temporarily lost her sense of direction from the fall. Things just aren’t going to go well now, she thought as she passed a church of Christ Scientist and then a Methodist church. She decided she had better call it a night and head back to the motel. She found that one-way street again, and walked the rest of the way, almost half a mile, back to the motel room.
As she returned to the motel, she decided not to disturb Anna, so she shifted to mist and flowed through the door crack. She reformed beside the bed, standing up, and scared the hell out of Anna who was awake and watching Letterman.
“Holy shit, Lilith! You know you freak me out when you do that. Why are ya back so soon, anyway?” she asked as she calmed herself down.
“I ran into a small problem . . . three churches in a row. Good thing I fed well tonight. What are you doing up so late?”
“I just couldn’t sleep. I’m still pretty tired, though. Thought I’d watch Letterman’s new show.”
Lilith laughed, “Yeah, and I love the fact that he’s on earlier now. I can usually catch his show then go out and prowl an hour earlier.”
Anna laughed nervously at that and asked, “So you say you fed well tonight?”
“Yes, and don’t worry, I even used some of your salve on his wounds. In the morning he won’t know what hit him, er, bit him,” and she laughed again. This time, relieved, Anna laughed genuinely at the pun.
“And you know, you do look a little shaken. Did you say three churches?”
“Well, two churches, and one frighteningly beautiful cathedral. That one took the most out of me. But I’m fine. I thought I’d come back here, lay my earth-mattress out on a bed and relax.”
“Then it’s a good thing this motel only had this room with two beds tonight. I guess it won’t go to waste after all.” Anna helped Lilith unload her mattress and lay it on the spare bed. They laid back on their beds and watched the rest of Letterman’s show.
After the show was through, they turned off the TV and got ready for bed. Anna was sufficiently tired now, so she yawned wide and loud, disrobed and crawled between her sheets. Being a naturalist and a Wiccan, Anna enjoyed sleeping “skyclad”, i.e. in the nude.
This was the first time that Lilith and Anna had gone to rest at the same time so Lilith never realized this. She also never realized what a truly beautiful human being she was, inside and out, until now. As she tucked herself in, Anna whispered, “G’night, mon amie.”
“Good night, and blessed be,” Lilith whispered back, using Anna’s favorite phrase to wish her a good rest for tomorrow’s trip to Junction, Texas. Damn, this is a big state, she thought to herself, noting the need to make a second stop in it. Too many bloody churches so close together, she sighed to herself.
Lilith tried to sleep but she just couldn’t seem to do it. She was a creature of the night. She was, however, good as new when the morning came. At about 5:00 A.M., she woke Anna up so that they could get ready for their next day and their next trip.
“An’ it harm none, do what thou wilt.”
- The Wiccan Rede
Chapter Three
She was so familiar to him. He knew her laugh; he knew her tears. He knew her joy and her pain. He knew her physical and emotional beauty and strength. He also knew of her love for him, and his for her. A wave of pure radiant ecstasy washed over him as she turned around to face him. Her shining red hair, which seemed to him as the finest threads of the purest copper, flowed around her neck and draped over her shoulders gracefully.
She stared at him for a moment, and he gazed back at her. In her eyes he would get lost. She had the most beautiful and mysterious eyes he’d ever known. They were a light-grayish, almost reflective color. In fact, they would often reflect the color of the clothing she wore, or of others around her. She was wearing a flowing white gown and this was represented in her eyes by an eerie silver tint.
She smiled a bright smile as she realized that her beloved was searching her eyes again. She bent forward to kiss him and bring him back to reality. As she neared to him, she whispered, “I love you, Xander.”
Donovan was brought back to reality as a ringing telephone snapped him out of another one of his dreams. He groggily made his way to the living room where the accursed ringing device was located.
Christian burst out of his bedroom and snatched up the phone. Slightly short of breath, he managed to answer the phone with “Hello, this is Christian,” Chris then turned to see a tired, confused, and slightly miffed Donovan lazily jog into the room. He gave Don an apologetic look, then gravitated back to the conversation on the line. “Yes, M’Lady . . . No . . . A soup stone? I’ve not been to one of those in years . . . Samhain? That sounds great, M’Lady. I’ll see you then. Blessed Be, M’Lady. Good bye.” With that, he cradled the phone.
Quite confused now, Donovan sat down on the couch in the living room. He apparently was only now beginning to wake because he just realized that everything was fuzzy. In his “rush” to get to the phone, he failed to put on his glasses. He turned to look at Christian, or a fuzzy facsimile of him at this point, and calmly asked, “Who was that? What time is it? And why are you awake enough to run around like a madman answering phones?”
“That was a Priestess of one of the local covens. It’s about 5:30 A.M. and I’ve been awake for an hour waiting for that call. I’m sorry if it woke you.”
“Priestess? Coven? 5:30? Explain.”
“Since I moved back to Phoenix, I’ve been quietly inquiring into the local Wicca community. That Priestess belongs to a coven that is a sister coven to one that I belonged to in California. I’ve wanted to get to know some of its members before I decide. They are having a soup stone meet on Samhain.”
“So-Wayne? Who’s that?” Don groggily asked.
“Not who, silly -- when. Samhain is the Wiccan name for the night you know as Halloween. The soup stone meet is usually a good event. This coven provides the stone, the pot, soup broth, and meat. Each coven member, and those invited like myself, brings a vegetable to add to it.”
“Halloween? Aw, but I thought you’d wanna go to the State Fair with me. Last day of the Fair, y’know.”
“I know, I know, and I’m sorry. But this will be my chance to get to know these people in a casual setting. We can go to the fair any day. How about later tonight even?”
“What? Opening night? That would be cool, I guess. But I’m broke.”
“I’ll pay. Just got my paycheck yesterday.”
“Deal. Oh, by the way. Who’s Xander?”
“Who?”
Donovan thought for a moment. Then realization struck! “Oh my God, Chris . . . I just remembered a name . . . from a dream!”
“Congratulations! Maybe we’re making progress. Have you been doing the chants?”
“Occasionally. Only when I’ve been having trouble sleeping . . . like last night! Maybe you’re right.”
“Anything else? Faces? Places?”
Donovan laid back on the couch, almost as if in a psychiatrist’s sofa. He closed his eyes and thought back. “I see . . . silver. The purest silver I’ve ever seen. And copper. Copper strands and silver coins.”
“Dreaming of precious metals? Not sure what that means. But go on. Don’t force it though. Relax and focus.”
“I feel at ease. Almost at peace. Almost . . . wait. They’re not coins. They’re irises -- the most beautiful eyes. They seem to reflect all colors around them like highly polished silver.”
“Go on,” Christian encouraged.
“The copper is hair. Gorgeous, flowing red hair framing a face. But I can’t make out a face. Why can’t I see her face!?”
He sat up, as if startled again by the phone. This time, however, it was his anger and disappointment with himself that caused him distress.
Chris ran over to sit beside Don on the couch. “Shhhh . . . settle down. It’s all right. First off, it’s only a dream. Second, it’s the first one that you’ve had any recollection of since...”
Don teared up as he remembered and said “...since those nightmares that I had after my parents died. Oh, Chris. Why can’t I remember her face? And who the hell is Xander?”
“I don’t know, Don. But, I do know that you have to leave for school in about three hours or so. Why don’t you head on back to bed? Get some more rest. Maybe you’ll dream some more. Tell me if you do.”
As he sniffled his tears away, he stood up and began to walk back to his room. “I guess you’re right. Well, see ya later then.” As he made it to the door, he turned around to face Chris again and said with a curious expression on his face, “Love. I felt loved. The power of dreams, eh?” He then turned back into his room without waiting for an answer.
Closing the door behind him, he contemplated the name “Xander”. Even as he lay in bed, the name haunted him. As did the fact that he could not recall her face. The woman of my dreams, he thought humorously, and then settled back into bed. As soon as he fell asleep, it seemed that his alarm decided to go off. But it was 7:00 A.M. and he had to get ready for school.
* * *
Thank God it’s Friday, Donovan thought to himself as he parked his car in his garage at home. It had been a long day. The funk he was in was apparently due to his dream last night. It was on his mind so much that during a few classes that day, Donovan was writing down some notes for himself. Not class notes, but notes for a poem, or possibly song lyrics.
Don was relieved to be home now. Chris was still at work, and would be until the night. He was looking forward to having the chance to relax and have some fun, for a change. Opening night at the Fair is always one of the exciting nights. The atmosphere always seems new and different at the beginning.
Yes, Donovan was certainly anxious to enjoy the Fair. But now, he wanted to get inside, boot up his computer, and run his journal program. He felt a need to express his emotional state poetically; what better medium than a diary.
* * *
McJournal Entry for 10/15/93
Dear Diary,
Has it been over a week since I wrote here last? I wonder how often most people make entries into their treasured diaries. I suppose as long as I need to express myself, and I have this as a medium, then it is often enough.
I could hardly concentrate today at school. My mind is still reeling over two facts. One, that I’ve now been able to remember parts of a dream after the accident that took my parents from me. The other is what I do and don’t remember from that dream. I certainly recall not being alone, now. I was with someone special to me.
I believe that this person had red hair and the eeriest light-colored and reflective eyes. Still, what bothers me is that those details are all I can recall from her personal appearance.
I say “her” because I do recall a soft, very feminine voice say, “I love you, Xander.” “Xander” is yet another mystery. Who is this Xander? Maybe I didn’t quite catch the name, or the phrase entirely. With the other confused or missing details, I cannot be sure at all.
One thing is certain: I am haunted by the possibilities involved. So much so that the romantic idea has manifested itself as a song to me. I cannot get a feeling for the melody yet, so it may just stay as a poem, instead. So, here it is, collected from scraps of notes that came to me in pieces, as the dream itself seemed to.
“The Woman of My Dreams”
When the darkness falls
And the Sandman calls
I don’t feel myself drifting away.
I see her there
With love to share
And then she’s taken away.
When I wake up from my sleep,
Her loving arms aren’t mine to keep.
I forget her every day.
Why must I dream about her?
Why can’t I ever love her?
Why must Love hurt me this way?
She’s the woman of my dreams.
The one I can’t love
When I’m awake.
She’s the woman of my dreams.
Love her at night,
Forget her when I wake.
I try to find her in the day,
I can’t seem to know her this way,
I can only remember her at night.
It’s bad enough not remembering my dreams.
It gets so bad that all I can do is scream!
All I know is I can’t seem to win this fight.
Do you know what I’d give today
To know her and love her in the day
And not have to wait for moonlight.
How can I live without her?
Why can I only dream about her?
Why must I wait until night?
She’s the woman of my dreams.
The one I can’t love
When I’m awake.
She’s the woman of my dreams.
Love her at night,
Forget her when I wake.
And then one night I saw her again.
I just couldn’t believe it when
She came running to me.
I ran towards her, like in a race
To see who would be the first to embrace.
This was a dream I didn’t want to leave.
I prayed that night her love I’d keep.
So forever I shall sleep.
In heavenly arms, I died in my sleep.
She’s the woman of my dreams.
The one I couldn’t love
When I was awake.
She’s the woman of my dreams.
I’ll love her forever
For never again will I wake.
* * *
As Donovan saved his entry and shut down the computer, Chris pulled up in the driveway. Donovan was relieved that some pressure weighing him down was removed by writing those lyrics. He felt so much better that he was of higher spirits when Chris opened the door and walked in.
Chris saw that Don was happier than he had been earlier that morning. He thought it was because of their trip to the Fair. It was because of this that the first words out of his mouth were, “Just let me get freshened up, and we’ll get on our way.”
“Cool,” was Donovan’s quick reply. “And I grabbed some money from an ATM earlier today at school. Thought it would help me enjoy the fair without taking a guilt-trip to get there.”
Chris chuckled. “Good call, my friend,” he said as he walked into the bathroom and closed the door behind him. About a minute or two later, he emerged and found Don waiting in the living room for him. He walked up to him and asked, “Okay, so, who’s driving?”
“I’ll drive . . . but you pay for the parking,” was Don’s response.
An evil grin washed over Chris’ face and he said “I don’t think it’s fair for me to pay the fare at the Fair.”
Don grimaced at the bad pun. However, he couldn’t resist getting the last word in, so he said, “Fair enough.” Quickly he ran to the front door, opened it, and bolted outside to the garage. Chris wailed a slightly miffed “Hey!” as he locked the door, closed it behind him, then ran to catch up with his smartass friend.
* * *
When it came to the Fair, as in Life, Donovan and Christian had two very distinct opinions on what to do for fun.
Christian was the kind of guy that liked to live life for the thrill. As such, he enjoyed going on all of the thrill rides when at the Fair. He also enjoyed experiencing different beliefs, cultures, and lifestyles. As such, he couldn’t wait to sample various snacks from as many food vendors as possible.
Donovan was slightly different. He’d lived the free life, he surmised, when he was younger. He was the quintessential class clown. As a kid, he too enjoyed the thrill ride called Life. He swore like Peter Pan that he’d never grow up. Unfortunately, Never-Neverland is based on a double negative, and the poor shmuck grew up.
Now older, and he hoped, wiser, he had a sort of “been there, done that, got the T-shirt” attitude towards Life in general, and now really only lived for one thing: shopping. And, as such, he saw the trip to the Fair as a chance to buy some really neat things that he really didn’t need. Even so, one of Donovan’s favorite phrases that summed up his philosophy of life all too well was: “He who dies with the most toys, STILL dies.”
Donovan did, however, enjoy something at the Fair that Christian did: the food vendors. It probably wasn’t the desire to try new things, however, which attracted Don to the snacks. Most likely, it was the hunger.