I drifted in nothingness.
Surrounded by cold and silence.
Walls pressed against me, on all sides. My head, my face, my chin immobilized when I tried to move them. My entire body caught in some way that both imprisoned and caressed me.
I was not afraid, more like irritated. And saddened at how my mother would not like the loss of the wine skin. She had often complained about how casual I was with everything. Well, she would have no further cause for complaint.
I did not like being held in place, like this, so I flexed my muscles and pushed against those bloody walls. Slowly. Slowly. Slowly they shifted aside. My arms, first. Then my legs. Stretching them out. Drawing them close. Feeling the glorious sensation of earth moving away from me. Then my head. The sky finally appeared and stars gleamed down as air filled my lungs with beauty instead of dirt. I finally had the conscious thought that I had been buried, but I did not even begin to wonder at how I'd been able to breathe before my release.
A moment later, I was seated under one of the pear trees, naked, my legs crossed, hunched over, filthy. Cold but not cold. Aware, but only in the most basic of animal terms. Someone was close by. I could hear their breathing. Could hear everything with a sudden clarity that was almost the height of pleasure. Still, I felt no fear, none at all.
That cloth was still around my neck, so I tore it away, then stretched and looked at my arms. They were mine. As were my legs, still strong and sturdy. And running my hands over my body told me that was me, as well. But I was completely caked with mud, so...
"You will want soap and water," came a voice from my left.
It did not scare or startle me. I only looked to find...
A lady standing to my left, watching me. Her beauty was not of this world, with eyes like almonds in a heart-shaped face, hair raven black, skin like brown mixed with gold. She wore a gown and cloak of exquisite texture, and no jewelry.
"I wondered when you would return," she continued, her voice melodious and yet casual in tone. "It has been three days since you were planted."
I rose with ease. Flexed my muscles. Shook my legs. Drew in a deep breath. Then I asked, "Have I returned to this world as a flower in bloom?"
"After a fashion. I am glad you managed to make the change before the return of Prior Pious and his monks."
The Vikings. "Three days and still...?"
She smiled. "They are celebrating. They captured a few more men than they expected. Shall I bring you to your bath?"
I nodded without hesitation. Which should have surprised me. I had no acquaintance with this lady, but for some reason I neither feared her nor really cared. So when she took my hand and drew me close, I let her.
And then we were on the parapet of a fortress overlooking the sea. Waves dashed against rocks hundreds of feet below, and far across the water was the hint of another shore, which I could see despite the lack of moonlight. I looked around. The fortress rambled about in a awkward circle, and in two places its walls had been brought down, seemingly more from poor construction than battle. Beyond, even in a night lit only by stars, I found an open meadow stretched over light rolling hills for at least a league until it met what I could see was a thick forest.
"Come inside," the lady said. "The water is hot. The soap is pleasant."
Not a bad idea, since I was still naked and filthy.
I followed her into a room where a large basin sat in its center, steam rising from it. To my left, a kettle over a hearth boiled more water. To my right stood a man and woman, both fine-looking, her with cloths for washing, him with fresh clothing. I still was not surprised.
"These are doúlos," she said. "Servants to us. No names are permitted."
I nodded and slipped into the water. Submerged myself in it, the basin was so large. Let its warmth course through me. Then rose to wipe my hair from my face. I felt mud trickle down my skin.
The woman handed me soap and a cloth, and I used them to wash every part of my body. Again. And yet, again. When I was done, both the cloth and water were as dark as the earth.
I stood and the man poured ladles of more hot water over me, then the woman offered me a sheet to dry myself. I did so, as the man brought me breeches, a tunic, leggings and fine boots, topped off with a belt and a burgundy cloak fastened by a golden hook. Once dressed, I felt almost regal.
"Now that you have turned," the lady said, "you must feed before the sun has risen."
I sensed a meal was close by and smiled at her, saying, "I am rather hungry."
She nodded to the man and he opened a door. Two more men similar in looks to him carried a strong, struggling but well-bound man into the chamber. He had long dark hair, a thick beard, and a tunic even plainer than the one I worked in. His legs were as sturdy as the trunks of oak trees, a thick leather belt clasped about his also very thick waist. His feet were shod with fur-lined boots.
"A Viking marauder?" I asked.
The lady nodded. "He escaped the assault on his party. His vessel is dashed against the rocks, below. All but seven of his friends now reside in Valhalla."
"Where are the rest?"
"They will soon be taken to the monastery, to await their turn to enter the land of their gods."
"Like cattle or sheep to the slaughter."
"Of a sort."
I eyed the man and asked, "May I have him cleaned, first?"
She gave me a quizzical look. "Do you plan to do more than feed?"
"No. But I prefer to enjoy my meal."
I honestly had no idea why I said that, or what I was planning to do with this man. He wasn't much older than I, and he was cursing me in a language I'd never heard before. None of which really mattered. My only thought was, I do not like his beard.
So still bound, his clothing was stripped away, despite his struggles and curses, revealing he was solid muscle from head to toe, hair swirling over every part of his skin. Then he was slung into the tub of water and washed. Shears cut away most of his hair and whiskers, revealing he had a small chin, and an earring was removed. It was offered to the lady, but she indicated it should be given to me.
I accepted it without hesitation. It was tempered gold with a small precious stone in its center. I looked at her, confused.
"Taken during a raid in Northumbria," she said. "It once was in the ear of a sailor, meant to pay for his burial should he die at sea and be washed ashore. Instead, he died on land and his body was burned as the port was sacked. Two years past."
"How do you know this?" I asked.
"Hold the piece in the palm of your left hand and caress it with your right thumb. It will tell its story. Everything you touch will, if you but listen."
I did as she suggested and a river of information whispered into my mind. The sailor had been my age, plus half, again, and had used his wages to have the earring made during a stop in Flanders. He had been on a ship bringing fine cloth for Bishop Odo and fallen in love with a girl in the English seaport. He had presented the earring to her as a symbol of his devotion, that he was willing to leave the sea behind and join her in her father's inn. But now both were gone to the next world.
It's odd, but I felt that was...well, not so much wrong as unnecessary. He had the gold. He had his fun with the girl. Did he really need to kill them, as well? It struck me as selfish and stupid, not to mention wasteful.
"Death for death's sake," I murmured.
The lady seemed to draw herself a bit higher, her attitude even more regal as she said, "That is an odd comment."
I merely shrugged.
By this time, the helpers were done scrubbing and drying him, and he almost appeared presentable. Fine form to his body and legs. Hair swirling from his chest up over his shoulders and down his arms and back. If he had provided more of a dick or less of an ass, I might have reconsidered my stance about him and taken some pleasure, first. Which really should have made no sense, considering what my monks had done to me, but I found I truly was not above doing it to him. His curses and struggles continued, but he did not even begin to strike me as human. Just another wild beast.
"Do you know what to do?" the lady asked.
No...and yet, I did. I walked up to him, caressed his very full chest, ran my fingers from his right tit to his left and pinched both. Hard enough to make him howl in pain. The hairs on his chest tickled my skin. Then I groped him...and caught the feeling that his balls would like the chance to release some of what they held. But I was more hungry than needy, so I did not care enough to actually do anything about it.
He tried to twist away, still cursing, but the two men held him in place. I brushed them away and mingled my fingers in his still thick hair.
Without a conscious thought, the nails of my right hand grew long. Sharp. Dangerous. He saw them and froze, in terror. I smiled and played with his tits, some more. Pinching. Cutting. Making him cry out in fear. To have this twisting, solid beast under my control, his body pushing and jerking against mine, filled me with a sense of raw power I did not know any man could possess.
I leaned in to kiss his neck...and felt fangs extend in my mouth and I held him close, body to body, and sank my teeth into his throat.
He screamed in pain.
Blood gushed and I drank it.
Devoured it like the nectar of the gods.
Ignored his struggles. His curses. His cries to his gods as he grew weaker.
Weaker.
All that mattered was drinking everything I could from him. Filling myself with him. Letting the joy of control over him caress every part of my body as his fight eased and his voice drifted into soft, piteous groans.
Softer...
Softer...
Until he ceased to move and no blood was left, in him.
I continued to hold him close. Did not want to release him. I vaguely realized that the others had cut away his bindings and stepped to one side, so I had been the only one in control of him. Which surprised me, because even in death he appeared to be far stronger than I. Yet I hadn't been the least bit troubled by his struggles to free himself. Instead, I had reveled in it.
Wanted more of it.
The lady joined me, asking, "Do you feel better, now?"
I did, though I could not say why. I just knew I was more sure of myself than I had ever been. The purest joy coursed through me. I felt almost complete. Then I looked him over, once more, and could see that while he was not beautiful, to have owned him in full would have added to my joy.
"Perhaps I should have taken him, first," I murmured. "Drawn his seed..."
The lady nodded. "There are some who believe that enhances the experience, be it with a woman or a man. Like an herb of some sort. I do not think it makes a difference."
Reluctantly, I released his body. Watched it drift to the floor like a bundle of rags. Finally motionless. Almost unreal.
I said, "I will see what I think, next time."
I could sense her smiling. "You are Léonidès." Spoken just like the Prior had...and Gregory...
I finally looked at her. "And you...I know you but I don't."
"I am Nethys, of the Oiym."
"That tells me nothing but your name."
"Come. This parapet has a beautiful view. Let us watch the rising of the sun. As you are a Blood Angel, now, it will be safe. And you will need instruction."
"Will I?"
That brought about her first slightly confused hesitation. "It depends on you. Come."
I felt oddly certain about myself, so gave her a crooked grin and asked, "So...I died and was sent back from heaven as an angel of the blood, was I?"
She gave a soft, musical laugh. "Not exactly." Then she led me onto the parapet.
We stood under a sky touched by morning clouds catching the first hints of dawn, its soft light just visible to the east. Gentle, blue and perfect. Never had I seen anything so lovely.
"I was not supposed to see another of these, was I?" I asked, not looking at her.
"No."
"The Prior intended me to disappear into his garden, like so many others."
"Yes. It was stupid of him to think he could do that with you. The rules for us are different from those for him and his. For example, he and his monks can be hurt by the sun and..."
"Were they monks before he turned them?"
She eyed me, again with a hint of hesitation. "No. I use that word only as a form of reference. His first turn, Gregory, was an ecclesiastical scholar under King Æthelstan. His began with a seduction."
"A bedtime story." I chuckled. "To be recalled at night, when I'm alone and in need of fulfillment. Will the details be salacious?"
"Perhaps the word seduction was incorrect, to use."
I nodded, already knowing. "He did to Gregory what Gregory did to me, and then they did it to each of the others."
"Yes," she said, not looking at me. "Your senses are strong and tie into your understanding. As you settle into your new existence, you will find them heightened, even more. Perhaps there will not be much need for instruction."
"I...I do seem to catch your meaning as you speak," I said, a bit confused. "Almost as if I am reading your mind."
"You are merely more sensitive to tone, choice of word, structure of sentence, the mood of the moment. You will come to accept it as natural, soon enough. It will protect you."
"So Pious forced them all into this existence."
"Yes. None was by choice, but I sense the victims have accepted their fates."
I nodded, remembering the first time I saw them in the pond, the joy they had with each other, sneaking off to be away from Pious. Having their fun with me. It now seemed a bit sad, but at least had found a way to take pleasure in their new existence.
I leaned against the parapet's wall. The sun was just peeking over the horizon, casting a soft emeraldine-blue from its early rays.
"They wanted me to join with them," I said.
"They sensed you were special," she murmured, "though they did not know why. Pious knew what you were, but did not realize his lads had become involved with you until recently. That is why he killed you. He thought that would end it. He should have known better."
"He did the same to my sister..."
"No. Her, he swore he did not realize she was a Blood Angel until he had tasted her blood, and by then it was too late. I do not accept his protestations of ignorance. He sensed there was something about her that was special, and went forward, anyway. The rest of the Oiym chose to give him benefit of the doubt. That will not be forthcoming, this time."
I hesitated to speak, but needed to verify my thoughts. "What is the Oiym?"
She looked at me, cool and easy. "You cannot tell?"
"My senses suggest you are...one of the very first..."
She chuckled. "I cannot think of any woman who likes to hear that, but I am the oldest of us." She turned back to the sunrise, her face a mask of nothingness. "Oiym is a Coptic word that translates, loosely, into First Ones. Seven of us developed in Sumer, four-thousand years ago, at about the same time. Courtesy of a pack of wolves who had mutated into raving beasts. I was attacked while protecting my father's flock. When the change came, I felt the presence of the others. We joined together and slaughtered that pack. Ended whatever it was that caused their madness."
She cast me a sideways glance. "Vampires were already in existence, Léonidès, but we are Blood Angels. We developed into a much higher caste, and we are very careful as who is allowed to join with us."
I nodded. "Am I to understand we are cousins?"
"Of a sort. Through your father, you are of the proper bloodline, but you were not meant to be turned."
"Do Catherine and Ollyn carry this, as well?"
She nodded. "But they will be left alone, and now are under our protection. Pious is no longer to be trusted."
"What will become of him?" I asked.
"That will depend on you. Technically, he did not feed on you. Your murder falls into a gray area, so we have called a gathering, to discuss it."
"Will Gabrielle be with you?"
"You are invited to speak because you were forced into this existence. It is only right to give you a say."
I noticed she had not answered my question. In truth, I was not opposed to waiting to know more about what had happened with me, so I said, "I am open to it."
"I knew you would be. I can already sense you are turning out much better than we had thought possible."
"Is that meant as a compliment?"
"Merely a statement of fact. Our base is in Alexandria. A ship awaits us off the shore. Is there anything more you wish to know, now?"
I nodded, but rather than ask, I took in a deep breath and closed my eyes. And I could sense...
"Pious does not yet know I am still of this world."
"No, I have cloaked you from his senses."
Then I smiled. "Gregory is angry with himself. He thinks he did not succeed in protecting me. How could he, against Pious? The man senses those guarding my family, but doesn't know where they are so is being cautious. Good."
I opened my eyes and looked at her. I had no problem with departing, so I asked, "How long is the journey to Alexandria?"
"Not two weeks. By sea is the fastest. The crew is doúlos as are the oarsmen. We have sufficient in number to travel, with perhaps only three overnight stays in ports for provisions."
"And feeding?"
"Léonidès, you will need to listen to your own body as well as the world. Tell me what you think it says."
I chuckled. Turned inward. And felt no need for nourishment any time soon. Perhaps not until we reached Alexandria. I had that much control over myself. So I laughed. And Nethys watched me laugh. For she knew what I was understanding.
For the first time in my life, I was in complete control.
