Futile Flame Page 14

  ‘It’s evil, isn’t it?’

  Miranda laughed. ‘Of course not. It’s a powerful image but it can be used for good or evil. It depends on the way it’s used. The pentagram is a complementary empowerment symbol. It can be used just as effectively to charge up a healing potion as it can be used to enforce a curse.’

  I considered her words carefully. My brother had used the symbol to empower his curse. He had turned me into a monster, all for his own sick pleasure.

  ‘Can it be used to make me human again?’

  Miranda was sewing beads onto a piece of silk she’d traded for in a small town we’d passed through. She stopped and looked at me.

  ‘Why would you want that?’

  I shrugged. I wasn’t sure I did want mortality again. But I needed to know and understand all the possibilities. I was dressed as she was now and she had taught me to dance, a powerful erotic swaying of the hips and belly. The coins on our hip sashes jingled, creating music from our movements.

  ‘Mortals have sought the elixir of life for all time,’ she explained.

  ‘Don’t see this as a curse. It is a gift. You will live far into the future and see the world evolve into a magical time. That magic will be science. Real magic will be lost as we know it. The world will become one of unbelievers. But you! You are the living essence of magic and you’ll survive the ravages of time forever.’

  ‘You make it sound romantic! But it’s terrifying.’

  Miranda nodded. ‘Yes, but you’ll survive, Luci. You will find a place for your empathy. Now draw the symbol in the dirt.’

  I did as she asked, and my magic instruction took a new turn.

  ‘Not that way,’ she said, taking a thin stick from the pile beside the fire. ‘Like this.’

  She drew the symbol starting with the top point, then indicated that I should copy her. ‘The pentagram feels like it belongs on my tongue, under my hands,’ I said.

  ‘It was used during your making; it is a symbol of power for you. Here is another, stronger image.

  Miranda drew a motif in the dirt. It was shaped like an eye and held in its centre a three-branched shape.

  ‘In the centre is a triskele,’ she told me. ‘It means re-birth and renewal. The three circles around it represent the number of all magic. Three is the number of fertility: the most powerful magic of all.’

  ‘I did have many children,’ I explained.

  ‘Yes, and they are important. Your first to your last, and your vampiric child is going to be the most crucial to your very existence.’

  I laughed. ‘I cannot become pregnant now.’

  ‘Not in the true sense, but nevertheless you will procreate.’

  She finished sewing the scarf and passed it to me. I swirled it around my hair, dismissing her words immediately. I had to hide my blonde locks; we feared the rumour of a fair-haired gypsy reaching my brother’s spies who roamed the country. Miranda told me that Caesare did indeed have the power to create revenant servants to do his bidding. They were his eyes and ears. He was far more powerful than I could possibly imagine.

  ‘Did Caesare sell his soul to the devil?’ I asked.

  ‘In a way. But things are never that simple. The devil is a creation of the Christian faith and he emulates our Pagan horned God in appearance. This is how the priests justify that my beliefs are evil. My God is the consort of a beautiful Goddess, and she, not the male God, created all of nature. Magic is all around us, Luci. Can’t you feel it ripping through your hair in the wind? Can’t you smell it in the sting of the rain? Surely you can feel it’s power in the intensity of the sun?’

  A breeze picked up as she spoke, whipping at my scarf, and a straggling blonde curl flicked free until the wind suddenly dropped. Miranda laughed as I tucked it back in. She spoke in riddles and rarely answered my questions directly. When Miranda was in the mood, she told me all about her world and her beliefs. The stories of the Goddess and her consort were the most beautiful ones I’d ever heard. It made more sense to believe her version of creation. We would often debate the content of the bible against her knowledge and faith.

  ‘I’m not saying that your faith is entirely false,’ she said during one conversation. ‘Some of it was born from my own. Often the rituals you observe have come from the ceremonies the Pagans derived centuries before. The problem with Christianity is that men, and not women, are in charge.’

  I laughed but Miranda looked at me sternly. She meant what she said and so I fell quiet and listened to her talk.

  ‘Men, particularly ones who profess religion, are the most corrupt.’

  I couldn’t argue. I’d seen it in my own household. I stroked Miranda’s arm as she spoke and cuddled up beside her as though we were lovers. I was besotted with her. But we were never sexually intimate. Although she kissed and petted me like a mother or sister, our relationship never went in an erotic direction. It never occurred to me until later to wonder why. I loved her more than I’d ever loved anyone. My life soon began to revolve around her.

  Chapter 29 – Lucrezia’s Story

  Becoming More

  ‘You’re a vampire,’ Miranda told me as we camped on the outskirts of a French town. ‘But you are not a monster. Monsters have no emotions. They kill and think nothing of it. But you have stopped killing; you feed to live.’

  ‘I’ve told myself this over and over, but none of it makes sense. What are we and why do we exist? How did this all happen?’

  Miranda shook her head, a smile playing across her mouth. ‘Your questions are no different than those of humanity, Luci. As for the answers to them: that will take a long journey of discovery. Many hundreds of years will pass first.’

  ‘Will I live on?’ I asked. ‘And never age?’

  She nodded. The fire was glowing on her dark hair, it absorbed the light, and her eyes held a faint golden glint. Sometimes she looked familiar. I’d spent hours scrutinising her face trying to determine her ancestry. She knew so much and, for a mortal, she was afraid of nothing. She never grew sick or aged. I was intensely curious about her, but she only ever told me what she wanted me to know. Her mind was impenetrable, though she had no trouble at all reading mine.

  We were together for seven full years. During that time I fed carefully from chosen victims in the various towns that we visited. As we travelled, Miranda taught me all she knew about magic.

  ‘You know almost everything that I know,’ she said. Her eyes held the mystery of centuries. I suspected that she would always be one step ahead of me no matter how much I learned.

  ‘Vampire,’ I said. ‘But what does that mean?’

  Miranda laughed.

  ‘You look for philosophy where there is none. Sometimes things just are. You must know that Caesare was not the first.’

  I did know that. I was certain that he must have been turned. Even so, I’d thought it through over and over. I recalled, and now understood, the words of magic he’d used during the ceremony. I often wondered who his maker was.

  ‘None of that matters,’ Miranda sighed. ‘He might as well have wasted his breath. You had to change. It was in your blood.’

  ‘How so?’

  ‘Does the leech ask why he lives? Does the deer cry as the hunter takes him down, wondering why he must die?’

  ‘I don’t know what you are saying; you talk in riddles.’

  ‘There are some things that happen that cannot be explained,’ said Miranda, remaining enigmatic. ‘At least not until the time is right. You are not ready for this knowledge. But know this: Vampires are like the burning sun. Without somewhere to shine, their glow is pointless. You are a fire that will never die, even when the earth crumbles to dust.’

  It was strange how I reverted so easily to pupil from teacher. Miranda’s words gave me new power. Her magic instruction imparted to me the knowledge to protect myself from humans and supernatural beings alike.

  ‘If I’m a healer,’ I asked, hanging out our washing on hooks that protruded from the caravan, ‘the
n teach me healing magic.’

  ‘All magic is healing, Luci, even fire. You just need to focus it to your needs.’

  Miranda taught me nine basic magical potions. ‘Three times three is the most powerful number, Luci.’

  To begin with she raised the cloth that covered the bunk we slept on and withdrew a large black pot.

  ‘Basic tools of magic,’ she told me. ‘A potion and words of power.’

  We created a healing lotion. Miranda explained how the ointment could be used just as easily to hurt as to heal.

  ‘The intention is what counts.’

  The potions took the form of ointments, lotions, medicines and tonics. With those nine, thousands of spells could be created. There were nine words of power too, which could be used in various ways. All that was needed was the thought or wish behind the spell to make it work.

  ‘Words of power are specific to the individual,’ she explained. ‘My own words would probably do nothing for you at all. The triskele I showed you is a potent word and symbol for your kind, Luci. Use it wisely, one day it may save your life.’

  ‘And the pentagram?’

  ‘Yes. All witches use the pentagram, it is the one symbol we have in common.’

  Miranda stirred the pot. She was making a protection spell. I’d learnt that she renewed the wards on the caravan on the first day of every new moon.

  ‘The moon gives us power. And for a vampire...’ She looked up into my eyes as she spoke and I stopped fidgeting with my coin belt and gazed back at her. ‘The moon gives you a source of nourishment if you know how to tap into it.’

  I waited as she returned to her stirring. It would have been like her to stop there and not explain further. When she was in that mood nothing in the world could induce her to speak. This time she looked up again, as though remembering to finish her explanation.

  ‘Have you ever danced naked in it, Luci?’

  I laughed. ‘Like a real witch?’

  Miranda smiled. ‘Yes like a “real” witch! And like a true vampire. You see, there are many ways to feed.’

  With that she grew silent again.

  ‘In my old life,’ I said, ‘there were many forms of vampire. By that I mean parasites that preyed on those weaker than themselves. My brother was a monster long before he grew fangs.’

  ‘He couldn’t help himself,’ Miranda replied. ‘Destiny had a hand in all of it. Everything that has happened to you since the day you were born has led to this moment. Caesare will learn his own lessons, and there will be a price to pay for his crimes.’

  I believed her words. I felt the air ripple with her curse. I knew that somehow, in some distant time, Caesare would wear the burden of his felony.

  ‘What we sow, we reap?’ I asked.

  Miranda nodded. ‘In a fashion. But the universe has a design for it all.’

  ‘Miranda... that day, the day you came for me. How did you know? Nothing you have shown me so far has even touched on the level of knowledge that you had that day. How did you know so much about the past, present and future?’

  ‘My dear Luci. That is the destiny I had to fulfil, just as your tuition was my ultimate task. Now you are almost ready to go back into the world. You are almost ready to face your demons and live the life you were destined to.’

  I felt ready – almost. I knew I could hide my presence from my brother now. Even if we stood in the same room I could be masked from him. The spell of protection Miranda had taught me seemed like my most valuable weapon. I felt safe in the knowledge that he could never find me.

  ‘We’ll face the world together.’ I smiled. ‘And what a powerful force we’ll make.’

  I hugged Miranda as though my life depended on it. Maybe I suspected, even then, that she would not remain with me forever. She was mortal, after all. Age and death would come to her one day, despite the magic I assumed she must use to keep her youthful looks. Despite my vague intuition, nothing could prepare me for the day I woke to find that she had gone. The caravan, the horse and Miranda were lost from my life as suddenly as they had arrived. I never saw my friend and mentor again.

  Chapter 30 – Lucrezia’s Story

  Medici

  I was shocked and hurt by Miranda’s desertion. Her sudden disappearance sent me into a mad frenzy. I looked everywhere for her. I travelled back along the roads and villages we had visited in the last year, but she was nowhere to be found. Miranda knew better than anyone how to hide. She had taught me well the art of witchcraft, of using herbs for medicine, especially how to hide more effectively from my brother. So it wasn’t long before I gave up my search. She would not be found if she didn’t want to be.

  I couldn’t understand why she had left. Maybe she had thought that I had nothing more to learn from her now. Or maybe she was just bored of caring for me. It was hard to know. I had thought she loved me. I wept at night, hoping she would return and say, ‘This is another lesson you must learn.’ Maybe it was a lesson. I had to rely solely on myself, for mortals were fickle and their lives too limited to hold onto. Sometimes at night I would dream that Miranda had been sick and had wished to spare me the pain of her death. I never learnt the truth and it was an ache that throbbed in my heart for centuries.

  I travelled for years. Lovers and food came and went and then, to my surprise, I felt another overwhelming urge. When all other needs were fulfilled, I had a craving for company. I had dipped in and out of society as I travelled but I remained always on the periphery, avoiding long-term contact with others. I felt cold to humanity, despite my ability to heal them. Instead, my isolation made me selfish. I fed my desires. I did not care how I used my victims.

  I joined the court of the Medici in Florence, back in Italy, at the end of the century. This world was a whirlwind of beauty that was as corrupt as any other. It was fun for a while for me to consider the seduction of someone important. I fantasised about the death of the Duke, who was known for his sexual perversity. I arrived as a Countess. For the first time in years I used my real name. I felt invulnerable.

  The Florentines were welcoming. My obvious wealth, always so easy to accumulate, bought me access to all of the aristocratic homes. I had the latest Parisian fashion in my trunks and the ladies at the court, always looking for a new style or whim took to emulating some of my designs.

  ‘Who is that?’ asked the Duke as he glanced across the gardens and saw me seated beside one of the many water features.

  ‘Countess Borgia, your highness. She is a widow of considerable equity.’

  ‘She pleases our eye,’ the Duke answered. ‘Seat her near me at dinner this evening.’

  I smiled to myself as I stood pretending to smell the flowers nearby. He had no way of knowing that I could hear his whispered words. The Duke moved on, but I soon became his mistress and planned the day I would kill him as he fucked me. Powerful men were so easy to manipulate. So deserving of my killing kiss.

  Chapter 31 – Present

  Feeding Time

  Lilly falls upon the girl and rips out her throat before I reach them. She is starving. Months of hunger and disrupted feeding has made us both desperate. Tonight we behave like animals. I fall on the girl’s arm, tearing the vein open and gulping down the blood. Power rushes back into my limbs as I swallow her life force. I glance up at Lilly and watch with fascination as she feeds. Gone is the time when we would play with our victims. There is no sexual satisfaction, just a meal. This is what being a vampire really means.

  Too long I have been absorbed in the romance of my condition. I am no hero of paranormal fiction. I am a killer by nature. Though it is certainly true that I can be part of society if I so choose.

  I resume my meal. The girl’s body jerks beneath my vicious grasp. She is still alive, but is rapidly going into shock. It doesn’t matter; though, our intention was to finish her completely.

  Lilly sits back, licking the spillage from her hands. I feel the sexual energy returning as I look at her while gulping down the last dregs of blood from
the dying teenager.

  ‘Shame. She was only young.’

  But Lilly doesn’t look regretful.

  ‘She was a slut.’

  ‘Oh yes. I never understood how girls can go out half-dressed in winter. And she came onto you in that club.’

  ‘Were you jealous?’ I ask, smiling at her. She stands up, smoothes her hands down her dress which is splattered with the girl’s blood.

  ‘Well, let’s say, when she offered to give you a blowjob in the toilets in exchange for a line of heroin, and then grabbed your cock, I was not best pleased.’

  Lilly holds out a hand and I take it, jumping to my feet. For the first time in weeks I am nearly back to full strength. The almost nightly encounters with the entity have left us both drained and weak. We needed blood, and quickly. The problem with this, of course, was that every time we picked a victim, the creature took it from us. It was as though it was deliberately weakening us.

  Lilly had the answer.

  ‘Let’s go dancing,’ she had said earlier.

  A club was the perfect place to fulfil our needs. It was obvious we had to act immediately and feed.

  ‘We need more,’ Lilly says as we leave the girl hidden in a large bin in the back alley behind the club.

  ‘Ok. But let’s not specify. This seems to be working.’

  We had not sensed the entity since our last encounter on the roads outside Manchester. Even so, we remained cautious. Lilly was less weakened than I, but then it maybe the entity was focusing his energy on me. He obviously thought I was the biggest threat. We had not voiced what we both suspected, which was that the creature may be the only being on Earth that could actually destroy us.