Resurrected (3 page)

As the cool November left
us, Elijah withdrew completely from everyone. I was worried his
nerves could not handle Eme’s disappearance. His behavior
frightened everyone, including me. He became a hermit, staying in
his room for nights on end. When he did leave, he did so in secret.
I knew this because I would always check on him before dawn and I
would find him in his sitting room, usually with blood stains on
his shirt. He wasn’t hiding the fact that he went out to feed,
Elijah just didn’t want to confront anyone.

On a few occasions when I
went to see how he was doing, I caught him talking to himself. His
sentences were short and virtually incoherent as he sometimes
slipping into his native tongue. When this happened in the company
of the others, we would look at him in confusion. He would then
become agitated and storm out of the room.

I was angry with the whole
mess. How dare these horrible events abduct and entrap us in this
fear? Even the slightest incident would worsen my state of mind.
Soon I too began to retreat, spending most of my time alone. And
now, I realized that slowly one by one, we were all withdrawing. A
proverbial black cloud had settled above our home.

Even Stone walked about the
house with greater care, so as not to upset any of us and tempt his
own death. I was dumfounded by this realization. This darkness,
this permeating evil of unknown origin had infected us
all.

That night I called a
meeting. I needed answers, or something that resembled answers. No
one spoke as the library filled. Everyone sat at the grand mahogany
table in the center of the room. The iron chandelier that hung
above cast a warm yellow light throughout the room. The fireplace
was cold and the scent of leather bound books was
strong.

I sat observing the others,
their cold reactions and expressions. It was as if no one trusted
anyone else, like we were all on the verge of betraying each other.
I spoke first, breaking the silence.

“Why are we acting this
way, towards the ones we love and cherish? Why?” I asked, pleading
with them to open their eyes.

“In what
way?”
Brenna's words were harsh and sharp.
I couldn't believe what I heard. How could she not see? How could
any of them not see?

“We are turning against one
another! For what reason? Stone walks through this house–this once
happy and carefree home–with such trepidation. He fears for his
life! He never has before. Never!” I was quick to anger. I was
upset at the blank stares I received. “Do you not understand me?”
my voice booming. I swiftly rose from my chair, causing it to slide
and fall backward to the floor. Still no reaction.

“I have a fear…” a quiet
voice spoke, "a fear that with coming of the new Millennium there
will be no more vampires.” I looked to greet this voice. It was
Elijah, “It is a new era, a new time, and we are not supposed to be
here. We are sure to die.” A single red tear fell from Elijah's
eye, and he repeated the last word, “die.”

“Oh, bullshit!” Brenna spat
harshly. “You can die if you want. You’re too old, old and
decrepit. Now that Eme has gone and disappeared, you too want to
disappear!” Her words were filled with a malice I couldn’t
fathom.

I looked Brenna straight in
the eye. She didn’t even flinch at my anger. As though possessed,
my hand flew up and before I could even register it, my palm
connected with her cheek and Brenna teetered in the chair. She sat
there silently for a moment.

“Bitch!” she shrieked.
Before she could come after me, my hand was at her
throat.

“No more from you. I will
hurt you. It doesn't matter to me that you’re my child. You are out
of hand. And yes, fear me. Make me angry enough and I will punish
you,” I growled. I released my grip and stepped back. I looked
around the oval table, meeting each of my fellow vampires’
eyes.

“We have to figure this
out. Can we at least do that? Can we work together still? Or are we
too far gone?”

“No.
Ma
chérie
, we will figure this out,”
Lacroix's voice was weak.

“Yes, together. We will
work together,” Mylana added, walking around the table to embrace
me. "We have not all gone insane,” she whispered into my ear. A
slight smile greeted me, making me feel more secure. I mouthed the
words ‘thank you’, and kissed her on the cheek.

Showing her disgust, Brenna
stormed out of the room.

“I hate you! I hate all of
you!” she cried as she disappeared around the corner.

Keeping her silence,
Kristine, Lacroix's child vampire, rose from her chair and walked
out of the room to be with Brenna. I knew this because her mind was
easy to read. Most of the time it was filled with silly notions of
revenge against those who had been mean to her, those who didn’t
understand her. Or else with thoughts of how to get men to fall
under her spell. In a way Kristine and Brenna were very much the
same. I did not trust Kristine, but then again, I did not know her.
My feelings about her were uncertain, and the two of them together
worried me.

Before I knew it, I was in
the library alone. I was stunned. I became angry again at the whole
situation. As I sat there, the memories of early summer four years
ago came flooding back. I feared the soul of the Blood God had
returned once again. I feared for my life and for the lives of my
loved ones. But most of all, I feared for my sanity.

I rose from my place at the
table and solemnly made my way to the foyer. I decided that any
place would be better than Chantonnay at that moment. Moreover, I
found myself oddly wanting to be near the mortals that I preyed
upon. It wasn’t that I needed my hunger to be appeased. I wanted to
be near them, to talk to them, to touch them and to love them. I
needed company that was not my family. Once I made my way to a
nearby pub and in their presence, though, I found myself
withdrawing from them and staying in the shadows.

Embittered by my act of
cowardice, I wandered alone down the narrow snow-covered streets of
Old Montreal. The old buildings towered above me. I felt as though
I had fallen back in time with only the streetlights and the
occasional car passing by to remind me of the date and time. As I
wandered, I grieved over the insanity invading my life. I could
have wept for hours, but I was emotionally spent and my thoughts
distracted me from my despair.

Without
warning
a dizzying sensation fell upon me,
jerking me out of reverie. My head filled with a humming noise. My
eyes closed, I leaned my body against a building and
listened–voices, many voices jumbled together. As quickly as the
sound had come, it disappeared. I opened my eyes then stood up
straight. As I looked down the street, I saw a man standing there.
He was of average height, but his face was engulfed in shadow. In
one swift move, he disappeared around the corner.

“Hey!” I called out. I
began to walk towards the spot where he had stood, but he was long
gone. He was not mortal, but he did not seem to be immortal either.
I stood there wondering who–or what–he was. Did he want something
from me?

All I could think about was
the sudden unusual appearance of that man as I walked back to La
Maison. Part of me wanted to share this experience with someone but
the other half wanted to keep it to myself. How sad for me to think
that I couldn't trust my own family.

Entering through the front
foyer, a cold sensation fell upon me. I stood still for a moment
and listened. Nothing. I began to remove my overcoat, still
surveying the surrounding area. The silence was unnerving. The only
time it was this quiet was when we were in slumber during the day.
I went from room to room looking for someone, anyone. Just a few
feet away from the entrance to Mylana's room an odd scent filled my
nostrils, the tang of vampire blood. My heart began to pound and
the sound rang in my ears. Instantly I was in the room looking over
Mylana's blood-covered and unconscious body.

"Mylana! Mylana!" I
screamed. I ran over to her body lying in a heap, her clothes
soaked with blood.

“Oh,
Mylana! What happened?” my voice barely over a whisper, forced
through tears. I picked up Mylana's body and laid her across my
legs, my arms cradling her as I rocked back and forth. She had been
bitten and the blood seeping from the wound on her neck was dark
red, like the
colour
of
molasses.

“Mylana, who would do such
a thing?” I couldn't look at her anymore. The pain was so bad I
couldn't breathe. I closed my eyes. Unable to control my grief any
longer, I wept. I cried so hard my throat and sides ached.
Unexpectedly I felt fingers grab hold of my upper arm and squeeze
me gently. I stopped crying and looked down at Mylana.

“Oh, my God!” my voice
cracked. Mylana's cloudy pale green eyes looked up at me, blinking
once, twice, three times.

“My God, Mylana, you’re
alive!”

Her lips moved, but the
damage to her neck had affected her voice. She mouthed the word
‘blood’. I was numb, unable to think. All I saw was my sire lying
fatally wounded in my arms. But instinct took over and my fangs cut
my wrist so that I could feed Mylana. Mylana sucked at the wound
with such force that my body felt as though it would shrivel and
cave in. I tried to pull away but she was too strong. I was bound
to her, locked in her grip.

I cried out in pain
bringing Mylana out of her feverish state of feeding. She jerked
away from me. Mylana’s eyes were wide with fear. I could tell she
was trying to see if she had harmed me in any way. I ached, but I
knew I would recover soon enough.

“I'm fine. Can you speak?”
I asked, my words spilling out. She said nothing for a moment then
tried to speak. At first her voice crackled and was hoarse, but
slowly the words came.

“I don't know what
happened.” She paused as the blood I had given her was mending her
wounds. “I was listening to music one moment, then I was on the
floor and my blood…my precious blood was pouring out of me!” Mylana
looked at me. The terror in her eyes made me shiver.

“I never even heard it
coming.” Redness began to appear in her eyes and soon the blood
tears began to flow down her white cheeks. The sight of Mylana with
dark, dried blood on her arms, neck, and hair made me want to run.
Run away and never return. Yet I stayed, my heart overruling my
mind. I don't know what kept me so calm.

“Do you know what happened
to the others?” I asked. Mylana rose to her feet and I joined
her.

“Lying on the ground numb,
I couldn’t speak or move. I heard shuffling of many feet… I heard
Brenna scream out.” Mylana paused and her features darkened. “It
sounded as though they had taken her.”

I could not believe what
had happened. I could not put it into perspective. Once I had my
wits about me, I made my way out into the poorly lit hallway to
Brenna's room. Mylana followed in silence behind me.

Before entering, I closed
my eyes and listened. I listened to the whole house, its creaking
from the cold, the sound of the wind brushing against it, the
crackle from the fire in the living room–but there were no sounds
of living vampires. I had hoped that they had taken Brenna so that
there might be at least a chance of her still being
alive.

I took a deep breath and
walked into Brenna's room. For the most part the room appeared to
be undisturbed, only a chair by the writing desk was lying on its
side. I ventured further, scanning every little thing. I heard
Mylana following me. I turned to face her. I was so confused. None
of this made sense.

“Why
would someone, or
something
want to kill you and take
Brenna?"

Mylana shook her head in
despair. "I know as little as you do." I couldn’t help but fear the
worst. My mind immediately began to weave intricate theories. The
idea that there might be a new breed of vampires came to mind–a
breed of cannibal vampires.

“Our family is growing
smaller and smaller. Elijah left to search for Eme. Lacroix took
off after Kristine…” As I was working the situation out aloud, it
dawned on me and the pure horror of another possible fatal
situation came into realization.

“Where's Stone?” I asked,
my voice almost shrill. Mylana's fear-filled eyes met
mine.

“My God! No, Stone would
have hidden,” Mylana said, trying to deny that anything could have
happened to him. She flew down the hall without saying another
word. I knew where she was going–to Stone's room.