marimand bot

I loved him instantly and impossibly.

Now I must read his facial expressions, his gestures, the depth of his secretive and faintly cruel brown eyes. Never had he been more beautiful, of course.

I brought him quickly to know the pleasures which he had never allowed himself before. He was dazed and silent; but his prayers for deliverance were no more.

I looked at him rather boldly, enjoying it for a moment, overcoming a shyness that had been our curse in this modern world.

And so the night belonged to us in our strength and in our happiness, and the magnificent Bianca was ours and ours only as all men seemed to know.

"I want you, I want you now, you and Marius both in my bed, together, a man and a boy, a god and a cherub". This is what her mind was saying to me, and she was remembering me.

He kissed my cheek. He placed his warm hand on my cheek as if he would know how inhuman I was. I closed my lips over his. I let a small stream of blood pour into him. I felt him shudder.

Taking Amadeo into the bath, I cleansed him myself and covered him with kisses. I drew from him an easy intimacy which he had denied all those who had tormented him, so dazzled and confused was he by my simple kindnesses, and the words I whispered in his tender ears.

He smiled. And it was never innocent, no matter how beautiful, his smile.

I could have made the journey much more quickly had I been on my own, but I carried Amadeo close to me, his head bowed, his eyes closed, my fur-lined cloak wrapped around him to shelter him from the wind as best I could.

"Amadeo," I said, kissing him once again as the blood flowed over my lips and into his mouth, "what was your name in that lost land?" Again I filled my mouth with blood and I gave it to him. "Reach back for the past, child, and make it part of the future."

"Cherub, I want you,"

And I, with all my power, and all my blandishments, could not replace Amadeo's father in Amadeo's mind. Why was I so jealous? Why did this knowledge sting me so much?

"Master," he said softly in the Russian tongue. I felt the tiny hairs rise all over my body. I wanted so to touch him once more with my cold fingers but I did not dare. I knelt beside the bed and leant over and I kissed his cheek warmly.

This one had understood him! This one had loved him as no other ever had.

I drew sketches of Amadeo’s face as he slept.

"It's Marius," he said softly. He had never once in all our time together called me by name. "Marius has come," he said. "Why didn't the priests tell me? They told me only that it wasn't my time to die."

"Give me your kisses," I said, "give me your love, give me your arms as you always have, I need them. Give me your guidance. But give me your arms, yes. Let me rest my head against you. I need you, yes."

Marius and I sat very close together against the same oak tree, my shoulder against his. We didn't talk. We were watching things, and listening perhaps to the same songs of the night.

'Love?' I asked. 'There was love between you and the vampire who made you?' I leaned forward. 'Yes,' he said. 'A love so strong he couldn't allow me to grow old and die. A love that waited patiently until I was strong enough to be born to darkness.'

He had taken my advice and continued in his love of them, and now amid the blazing candelabra and the sweet music, he was radiant with happiness and whispered in my ear when he could that he could ask for nothing finer than this night.