Authors: Juliette Springs
After the incident, Sarim was careful about their sexual relations and to what levels he would take them. He cut back on kissing and oral sex. One more incident like that would have killed her. He didn’t need the suspicion or added annoyance of having to get rid of Tammy’s body, especially when he still had to live in the human world for an indefinite time period. He already had everything he needed now. He did not desire the stress of having to find another human female to live with. It usually took him about a month to mold a human female to his specifications. Molding another female mind to ignore his unusual sleeping habits, lack of consuming human food, and molding her body to accommodate his size for sex was not an easy task.
He also had taken extreme caution not to get her pregnant. This would have caused another life-threatening situation. One of those precautions was not having sex during a full moon. A vampire’s sperm count was at its highest during that lunar phase.
Since his sperm could survive anywhere in the human body, Sarim could have gotten her pregnant by receiving oral sex. He also made sure he drank the vandilum
Khafil had acquired for him. A drink made from the blood of a dying vampire rendered any male Taalib Duma impotent, except during the full moon. The blood of a dying vampire weakened the reproductive life force of a vampire. One vial (about four ounces) of the bitter fluid lasted about six months. For Sarim’s hiatus, Khafil had packed a sufficient quantity to last a few years.
He had consumed it religiously every six months. He frowned, only recalling drinking the potion once during his last year among the humans. That dose occurred in January, and he’d left in July. He let out a sigh and relaxed. His system had received so much of the vandilum, he was probably sterile for years from it.
He could have embraced
Tammy, but his personal code would not allow such an error. There were instances where vampires had embraced humans that they were infatuated with. In his opinion, this often led to vampires with human emotions that could not perform ordinary vampire tasks without questioning why, where, and how. Most of these Humvansi, as they were called, were usually too concerned with the feelings of humans. It created unnecessary conflict. Children of these human and vampire unions were not blessed with long or healthy lives. If they did not carry the Dalili Nakisisa,
they were not considered true members of the Soga brotherhood.
They were caught between two worlds and usually could not deal with the emotional ramifications of it all. Their human DNA could not fully understand them, and neither could their vampire lineage. Some who had the sign had special powers, while others were cursed with an unquenchable thirst for blood. This often led to them being placed in human mental wards for their strange and sick taste. The human medical community deemed them as the worst and sickest sort.
Sarim had made one vow during that interval in his life. He would not embrace Tammy or impregnate her with a humvani. It wasn’t out of concern for her situation. He would not disgrace his ancestors’ lineage by bringing in unnecessary conflicts and distractions. An unknown humvansi could threaten the stability of the brotherhood. His father and grandfather were both Abu of the Soga brotherhood. The Soga would not appreciate an annoyance of that magnitude.
As the strongest and oldest tribe of Taalib Duma’s, their main concerns were staying in control and retaining power. Other brotherhoods were more than ready for the slightest blunder to happen. Many were eager to take the Soga’s place as the elite. The Soga was the only tribe of African descent not eliminated through assimilation or blood diseases. This could happen as a result of intermixing with other brotherhoods. The Soga was a descendant of the Soganta tribe of Africa. As legend had it, Sarim’s ancestor Hanit fled from Egypt as the last remaining Soganta member.
Sarim bought his thoughts back to the present. Was there a Soga humvani, with his blood, walking with day crawlers? If so, the humvani had to be from his liaison with Tammy.
“Abu Sarim,” a voice beside him beckoned. Sarim stood, irritated by the interruption, as he answered sharply, “Yes, Khafil?”
“It’s nearly dawn. We await your presence,” was the smooth response.
As Sarim walked to the door, Khafil materialized beside him. He nodded at Khafil. “Tell them I will be there shortly.”
“As you wish, Abu.” Khafil disappeared.
Sarim needed a minute to collect his thoughts before overseeing the
Vranda Zormir
.
As Abu, no Taalib Duma could lie down before him. Sarim walked to the windows and gazed at the lightening sky. Finding this descendant was of the utmost urgency. His time as Abu was drawing to a close. If the role were to continue in his family, he needed a son or another descendant. As of now, he had neither. His time of breeding had passed. He was now dependent on finding this heir. His family’s legacy depended on it.
“I will find you,” he said, then vanished.
For the past couple of weeks, Khafil had noticed his Abu seemed distracted. Lately Sarim seemed as if he were elsewhere. One particular incident came to Khafil’s mind. During a crucial conversation in last week’s council meeting, Sarim had zoned out. The other tribal brothers were awaiting the Abu’s response to a critical matter before the council. Khafil had to regain his Vani’s attention by sending him a mental summons. He had watched Sarim quietly drift in and out of conversations with members of the Soga. Khafil knew how to read his Abu’s every move and thought by scanning Sarim’s facial expressions.
Khafil had been Sarim’s protector since Khafil reached vaperty,
the time when a Taalib Duma reached adulthood. He had been primed since birth to serve, counsel, and protect the Abu. His father had protected Sarim’s father, and the father before him had been protector to Sarim’s grandfather. Khafil came from a long line of protectors. His family took the responsibility very seriously and followed the principles exactly. His primary responsibility was to be his Abu’s virtual shadow. He traveled with Sarim everywhere. In every council meeting, every hiatus: basically every encounter Sarim had, Khafil was there.
He had the power to share thoughts with his Abu. When Sarim had supposedly “confidential” meetings or even when his leader had sexual relations, he was there. There was only one drawback to his lifestyle; no one could see him but Sarim and other blood descendants of the Abu’s family. No other Taalib Duma knew he existed. He did not have an existence outside of Sarim’s realm. When his Abu’s time ended, he was to become visible to other Taalib Dumas and could resume a regular life.
Khafil was in tune with all of Sarim’s moods and emotions. Abus had to have protectors. Mothers, or Vahothes, were the first protector. After Abus reached vaperty, they were taken from their mothers. From that point on, the young Abu belonged to the fathers, or Vahantes,
and the council. As the protector, he was the only one who could tell Sarim exactly what he thought. Khafil did not have to color his opinions in the hopes of not riling his superior. He always offered his opinions about Sarim’s plans, attitudes, and other relationships. Khafil’s primary duty in life was his Abu.
He was not allowed to form a personal friendship with Sarim. Doing so could cost Khafil his life and the Abu’s. It would also bring great shame to his family’s name and honor. Developing a friendship would cause Khafil to lose his objectivity. He would not see things clearly for his ruler. His counsel and protection would be to please Sarim instead of protecting him. He was the only Taalib Duma Sarim could trust. Khafil was not allowed to betray his Abu. Sarim could read his thoughts if necessary, but Khafil could not directly read Sarim’s. Khafil could not hide intentions of betrayal from his Abu. Besides, he had no interest in killing Sarim. Although he sensed another Taalib Duma did. Clearing his head, Khafil watched as Sarim turned to him.
“For the past two months,” Sarim began, “I’ve been experiencing something strange, something I’ve never dealt with before.” He turned and looked Khafil in the eyes. “Even though I know I have your confidence, I need to stress the importance of this remaining between you and me. Therefore, I must forbid you to tell your Vahante or any other family members.”
“Of course, Sarim. I will not speak of this to anyone,” Khafil answered. He barely struggled to hide the irritation in his voice from having his loyalty questioned.
“I have smelled my Dalili.”
Sarim spoke so softly, Khafil barely heard him.
Khafil’s mouth dropped open in shock. “How is this possible, Abu? When did this happen?”
“I believe I impregnated a human female while I was in hiatus,” Sarim said, a fierce expression on his face. “I have smelled the scent of the Dalili ever since our winter migration to Varlancia. The scent haunts me, Khafil. It invades my nose even when I rest.”
Kahfil had to keep his jaw from dropping open. How could Sarim have gotten a woman pregnant? He searched his mind. He’d never left Sarim alone ... except for that one night with the human he’d lived with over twenty years ago. Sarim turned abruptly and stared out the window. “I have one more thing for you to do, Khafil.”
“Whatever you ask is my command, great one,” Khafil responded, hastening to his Abu’s side.
“I am glad to hear that, Khafil. I knew your loyalty was uncontested. I have to go to the origin of the smell. I can’t rest until I come face to face with this human I am haunted by. This scent could lead me to the solution of my not having an heir. If this person is a woman, she will have to become pregnant by a Taalib Duma, and she will have my grandchild. If this person is a male, the dilemma is solved automatically ...”
“You are assuming this person is going to go along with your plan,” Khafil interrupted.
“Their wishes are of no importance. My family needs an heir to continue our rule. An heir this person will be, or supply,” Sarim said. “That’s final.”
“You’re taking too much for granted. What if they have a family and a life of their own? They are not going to leave that for you. This person obviously does not know our ways or we would have heard from them by now. This person owes you nothing, Sarim. I -”
“ENOUGH!” Sarim roared as he stood up. “Are you my protector, or my conscience?”
“I am merely pointing out to you very real possibilities. You can’t go dictating a humvansi,
as if he or she owes you something. Even if this person might be the answer to your problems, understand, Sarim, they are not obligated to you at all,” Khafil continued, careful not to raise Sarim’s ire too much, but he had to hear the truth. “And if I were your conscience, you’d be a lot smarter.”
“Knowing how you value your position, Khafil, I’ll overlook your last comment,” Sarim said, frowning. “This humvansi will serve me. That is not the issue now. The real issue is I need you to come on the journey with me. Tell your family that I am looking for possible sanctuaries. Can you do this, Khafil?”
“Of course, Abu.” Khafil gave a thin smile. “I will prepare for us to leave in a week.”
“Very well, Khafil. Leave me now. I am weary.”
“As you wish, leader.” Khafil bowed and disappeared.
As soon as Khafil disappeared, Sarim sat down and let out a frustrated sigh. Even though he hated to admit it, Khafil was right. The humvansi he was seeking owed him nothing. The heir could laugh in his face and send him on his merry way. If they did, there wasn’t anything he could do about it. Sarim did not like the way the odds were stacked against him. He was in a situation where he couldn’t use his influence or power to get what he wanted. It was against The Code of Ethics
to use one’s powers against or to beguile another Taalib Duma, even if the Taalib Duma was the humvansi he created.
Looking out the window, Sarim noticed the rays of light streaking across the sky. Daybreak was upon him. All his thoughts and questions would have to wait until tonight. He walked to the door to turn out the lights. As soon as he touched the light switch, his ever-efficient protector materialized beside him.
“I assume you are ready, Abu?”
“It would appear so.”
Khafil opened the door for Sarim and followed him out. He would not trade places with his Abu for all the blood in China.
Jumping up in alarm, Victoria woke up.
How long have I been asleep?
Sitting up in her seat, she looked around the bus in panic. It was empty and still. With heart racing, she shot out of her seat, running to the door. Practically flying from the steps, she landed on the sidewalk and looked up at what appeared to be a Bus Terminal.
Where was she?
Her heart leaped when she found the entrance and she quickly walked through it, scanning the area for a help desk. Seeing that no one was there, she briskly walked over to it and began ringing the bell insistently. A harried employee stuck his head around the corner.
“May I help you?”
“Yes, please, can you tell me what town is this?”
“Sure. This is Battle Grove, Connecticut.” The clerk walked over to the counter, concern etched on his face.
Fumbling through her bus tickets, Victoria did not see a ticket with Battle Grove listed.
Sensing her panic, the clerk reached over and took the tickets from her.
“Let’s see what we have here.” Flipping through the tickets, the clerk began shaking his head. Victoria’s pulse began pounding.
“Miss, it seems you missed your connecter bus.”
“How?”
“Well, you were supposed to take Bus 2220 that goes non-stop to Virginia.”
Dread filled her. “What can I do?”
The clerk gave her a sympathetic look.
“There is one bus leaving to go back to Boston in about an hour. You can take that and start your trip again tomorrow morning.”
“There are no other buses going south today?” Panic made her voice squeaky.
He gave her a sad smile.
“No, miss. We did have another bus heading toward Virginia, but it hasn’t arrived yet and we close in an hour, after the Boston bus leaves.”
She thanked the clerk for his assistance and turned dejectedly, heading back to the bus to get her luggage, frustration causing her eyes to tear up. She would have to go back and start over.
Or should she
? Maybe God was trying to tell her something.
“Could you spare some change?”
Victoria practically skidded to a halt outside the Black Hound Bus Station. She’d missed her connection to Virginia. A tear escaped down her cheek. Wiping her face, she sighed and reached into her pocket for some spare change. When she raised her head again, she found herself staring directly into the homeless man’s intense eyes. Strangely, his eyes seemed familiar. She opened her mouth to ask him if she knew him when a feeling of calmness engulfed her. All of the weariness and frustration left her body. Her hand uncoiled and the coins dropped out of her hands and hit the sidewalk loudly, causing her to snap out of the trance. As she bent down to pick up the change, he whispered in a voice deep and melodious voice, “Do not give up on finding the past. You will find the answers you seek.”
When she looked up, the homeless man was gone. “Bus 1117 to Virginia will be boarding in fifteen minutes.” The words over the intercom startled her. Before she knew what she was doing, Victoria found herself exchanging her ticket to Boston and heading back to Virginia on Bus 1117.
Victoria leaned back in the uncomfortable seat. Instead of being scared by the odd experience, she was strangely soothed. And she had the homeless man to thank. His words played over and over again in her mind.
Do not give up on finding the past. You will find the answers you seek
. Could he know she was seeking her father? She shook her head. Impossible, still . . .
A baby’s loud cry brought her back to the present. She stared down at the small blue notebook in her lap. Toward the end of her mother’s life, her mother had become frantic, trying to tell her every little detail about her father. By that point, Victoria had already determined her father would pay for her mother’s over-burdened life and suffering. She began writing down everything her mother said about him, deciding every detail would help her someday find him. Surprisingly, her mother took this as a sign of acceptance on Victoria’s part and relaxed when she began to talk about him. Victoria read over the notes she’d taken.
Samuel is tall, a little over six feet with caramel complexion. Close haircut. Black hair and eyes an intense shade of brown.
The search would have been easier if a photo of Samuel had existed. Her mom had an answer for that.
“Samuel refused to let me take pictures of him, claiming he wasn’t photogenic. I always wondered if he was hiding from the law.”
Victoria scowled, remembering how animated her mother became when she talked about the bastard. “Sometimes his eyes were shining and loving. But other times they were cold and ripped through me.”
Victoria shook her head and started reading again.
Full lips, high cheekbones, and a mole beside his mouth.
It amazed Victoria how her mother could remember every detail about the man who had broken her heart. She scowled. Her father must have had her mother hypnotized to inspire loyalty of that nature. She’d dated, but after a couple years, she couldn’t recall even minor details. Then again, she’d never been in love.
She forced her attention back to the notes.
He had a slight African accent. He used hand expressions a lot during conversation. He was very polite and mannerly. He was aloof. There was a scar underneath his left eye shaped like a crescent moon. Had a gold ring with a triangle, outlined in diamonds. He never took the ring off.
Well, her father was well groomed, if nothing else. According to Victoria’s mother, her father had had a lot of strange habits. He rarely went out during the day. He spent a good deal of daylight hours sleeping. Her mother claimed he came alive at night and that he was quite talkative. Night was when he conducted most of his activities. She could remember her mother talking about her father’s nighttime life as if it were yesterday.
“Oh, Vicky, your father was a man of the night. We used to take walks in the park at night, go to fancy restaurants, count the stars and spend hours in deep conversation.”
Her mother always got a dreamy expression on her face when she started talking about him. It was almost like her mother went in a trance whenever she mentioned her father. She told her, her father was eccentric. Her mother had frequently caught him talking to himself. When she’d asked him who he was talking to, he always replied, “Nobody.” All things dark and Gothic fascinated him. He would check out dozens of books on vampires and other supernatural creatures from the all-night library. After he read the books, he would make comments like, “Why don’t they ever write about African vampires?” Her mother said once, after he’d finished one of the books, he’d even laughed and said, “These people don’t know what they’re talking about.”
A chill ran down Victoria’s spine and she straightened. She was also obsessed with vampires. Something about the legendary creatures of the night fascinated her. As a little girl, she terrified her second grade classmates by bringing in a life-like vampire doll for ‘show and tell.’ She’d spent a full week searching for the perfect doll and finally found one in an out-of-the-way shop specializing in Gothic culture. The doll was equipped with fangs and had fake blood coming out of its mouth. While her classmates had gawked repulsively, she discussed the origins, feeding habits, and living requirements of vampires. She’d always been in awe of the supernatural powers they were rumored to possess. Vampire movies or stories never frightened her. On the contrary, she found the whole enigma about the species exciting. She felt she could relate to them, but couldn’t put a finger on why.
As a teenager, she read a book a week about the creatures of the night. She couldn’t wait to finish one book to start another. She also loved the nightlife. She loved the way the moon and the stars shone in the sky. She loved inhaling the crisp night air in her lungs and feeling it against her skin.
Being in the sun didn’t bother her, but she preferred the moon’s rays. As a child, she remembered sitting on the porch at night and taking long walks in the woods by herself. She was a night person, just like her father. Heat flashed to her face. No. She may have a common interest in vampires, but the similarities ended there. She was nothing like him. Nothing.
Turning in her seat, she stared at the passing scenery. Buildings and cars flew by. She was determined to find her father, even if it appeared to be a wild goose chase. Maybe he could answer the questions she had kept trapped inside her for years. Questions such as: Why did she hate vegetables? Why did she have a preference for rare meat, like steak and roast beef? Why could she see everything clearly in her room at night, without the lights on? What was the strange mark on her neck?
She’d never divulged these secrets to her mother. To do so would have sent her mother over the deep end for sure. Her mother’s health was already failing, and she didn’t want to add to it. Besides she didn’t want her mother thinking her daughter was crazy. She already worried over the fact she didn’t have any friends throughout her school-age years. All her classmates had teased her about being “weird.” None of them shared any of her interests. No one was interested in vampires or walking through the neighborhood at night.
Because of this, she’d kept to herself a lot. She never came home with friends or had sleepovers. She was also never invited to any. Her mother said it wasn’t normal for a girl her age to have no friends and be alone all the time. But she had no desire to become friends with any of her schoolmates or neighbors. All her female classmates wanted to do was talk about each other and chase boys. The only friend she had was a boy named Ivan Wilson. They had been friends since elementary school. She met him in the park. They were chasing the same butterfly and collided with each other. After that initial meeting, they were inseparable.
Victoria tried to remember what her old friend looked like. Ivan was tall for his age. He had a smooth cinnamon complexion. His liquid brown eyes were piercingly intense. They were the kind of eyes that looked into your soul. Victoria could never stare into Ivan’s eyes for long.
They’d spent countless afternoons and evenings collecting leaves, bugs, rocks, and whatever they found interesting. They often went for walks in the woods behind Victoria’s grandmother’s house. Victoria even told Ivan about her obsession with vampires. Instead of looking at her like she was a freak, he quietly and thoughtfully listened. From then on they spent hours talking about ghosts, vampires, and other supposedly scary things. Ivan always listened to her thoughts and never judged her. He was the yin to her yang. She was the chatterbox of the friendship, and Ivan was the listener. All she had to do was look into his eyes, and she found herself telling him about her hopes, dreams, and fears. Unfortunately, the friendship ended when she moved to another city. She thought about the last time she’d talked with Ivan.
It was late at night and they were sitting at their usual spot, underneath the pecan tree in her grandmother’s backyard. She was upset and crying over the fact she was moving. She didn’t want to leave Ivan or her grandmother. But her mother needed intensive treatment, so they had no choice.
“We’re leaving in the morning,” she told Ivan in a croaking voice.
“I know,” he answered in his usual unemotional tone.
“I’ll never forget you, Ivan,” Victoria whispered and squeezed his hand. “You always listened to my wild thoughts and fascinations.”
Ivan turned to face her, and she froze at the intensity of his stare. “I’ll always be with you, Victoria. Every time you look into the night sky and see the moon, know I’m looking at the same moon as you. We’ll both be thinking the same thing, thinking about each other.”
He grabbed her hands, staring even deeper into her eyes and continued in the same voice, husky with emotion.
“Victoria, no one is going to understand you or your fascination with vampires and ghosts like I am. So don’t waste your time telling anyone about them. You’re special and different, Victoria, and there’s nothing wrong with that. One day, you’ll meet people who will accept you as you are.” Ivan stood and dusted off his shorts.
“It’s time to go, Victoria.”
No other words were spoken until he said goodbye at her grandmother’s doorsteps.
She never saw Ivan again after that night. She also never saw eyes like his again until—her heart skipped a beat—the bum at the bus station! The eyes of the homeless old man were just as intense and just as piercing as Ivan’s had been. Victoria shook her head. Impossible. The beggar couldn’t have been Ivan. She would have recognized him.
Victoria ran a finger along the cold bus window. She’d never grown close to another guy after Ivan. Her lack of interest in men had alarmed her mother, who told her at least once a week to get her head out of books and go out and meet people, preferably men. Her mother claimed she wanted her daughter comfortably married before she died.
Victoria knew her mother wondered if her only child was a lesbian. She chuckled. She loved the idea of men and was happy to idolize them from afar. She’d even had several crushes in high school. They’d held her interest until she got close enough to talk to them. The guys looked much better with their mouths shut and most were missing something she couldn’t put her finger on. She sighed. Here she was twenty-four, alone and a virgin. Yes, she had dreams and aspirations like the next person, but because of her jerk of a father, she was all her mother had left. So instead of going to college, she’d stayed home with her mom. After all, it was her duty to comfort her mother during her last days. If she didn’t, who would?
But all would have been different if her father had stayed in the picture. Since he selfishly hadn’t, her life hadn’t been easy. But no matter, everything would be fine once she solved the riddle of her father’s whereabouts and avenged her mother’s death. She could finally fulfill her dreams of becoming an interior decorator.
Searching the scenery as the bus rolled on, her eyes stopped on the sign WELCOME TO THE TARHEEL STATE—NORTH CAROLINA. In high spirits, she sat up in her seat, smiling. This was where she was supposed to be. She could feel it in her bones.
Something stabbed her. She screamed and her vision blurred. She grabbed the back of her neck.
Oh, please, let it end.
Then, as suddenly as it had come on, the excruciating pain vanished.
Several minutes passed before she dared move. She inched her neck one way, nothing, then the other, still nothing. She exhaled loudly, then scanned the bus. She was the object of everyone’s attention. They were all staring at her like she was a lunatic. One woman grabbed her son close, never taking her gaze from her. Averting her eyes, Victoria looked up front and noticed the bus driver glaring at her in the rear-view mirror.