Immortal Pleasures, page 21
“I’m sorry. That last part was insensitive.”
There was genuine hurt in her eyes. “I know. You don’t have to worry. You are my dear friend with good intentions when it comes to us. But I want to build something first for myself. The time is now.”
She threw her arms around me. “I will send you postcards from all my locations in case you change your mind about robbing the continent blind. Mary will be in Paris singing, so I won’t be totally alone.”
“Have fun, Catherine. I know we will see each other again.”
As time went on, I would visit my secret hoards in Mexico to sell pieces to collectors or museums. I sold back to the descendants of the conquerors the crosses they made from our gold with precious gems. I sold them their ancestors’ blood-spattered swords and their jewelry and other priceless items they’d brought from Spain that were now all mine. The Europeans had taken everything from me, and I took all I could from them.
Catherine sent me postcards for a year before they stopped.
* * *
When I finish telling Alexander one of the stories about my past, we are back at the flat in Notting Hill. Once inside, I can hear light snoring coming from the master bedroom where Colin is recovering. I toss my bag on the dining table before allowing my body to sink into the sofa. Alex sits next to me.
“Both of us had a birth of sorrow and came out spiritually breech. And antiquities? It’s very different from translating like you did when you were human?”
“They are related. My ability to speak many languages allowed me to procure the Spanish treasures I wanted and take back what was ours. My travels with Cortés showed me the vastness of the land. Secret pockets I could use to my advantage for hiding as much as possible. And it enabled me to learn other languages quickly and expand into different countries once the internet became a thing.”
“You’re so resourceful. And you know, the Vikings buried their treasures too, for the afterlife.”
“Are we, as vampires, not a manifestation of the afterlife? We are the living possibility that existence continues in some form even if we do not want to believe it or can’t see it.”
His black eyes soften until they look like jaguar fur. I want to rest my head against the beast inside of him.
“I never had the chance to have children, a family,” he said.
Without thinking I blurt, “And what about love?”
He turns his beautiful face toward me. The cracks in his pupils show me heartache but also the hidden radiance he possesses inside. I want to cover his body with my kisses, coat him in my saliva like a shield—I want my love to be a shield from all his self-doubt, hurt. The lingering scent of my mouth would be a constant reminder for him of the love that is always within reach if only you let it happen without fear.
“When? I’m married to my mission,” he said.
“So was I. But then the yearning became too much. And that mission is making me less happy year by year. It’s time for a change. Time for me to find someone like me…like you, Alexander.”
There. I say it out loud. Fuck hiding behind fear. I didn’t want to seem weak by uttering those words. But even a vampire as old as me wants love from another no matter how hard I loved myself. He continues to look at me. I can see in his eyes that he feels it too. His eyes are mirrors that reflect my own love back at me. Many times, I had seen myself looking as he does now. “I would like to see Mexico one day, Malinalli. I have never been across the ocean.”
Again, my mouth moves before I can think. “I guess when I go back you will have to come with me. I won’t take no for an answer.”
A little light chuckle from him. “You are a wonder. You know that?” His laughter infects me. I tease, “What? Besides all this craziness, it was the right decision to cross the ocean to come here. But I have one more question.”
“Ask me anything. I will always give you an honest and direct answer.”
“Catherine. I mentioned a vampire by that name. Do you know anything about her or have you heard that name?”
Alex wouldn’t bullshit me, but I can see on his face he measures his words. The name is familiar to him.
“I know of her, not much, so I didn’t want to interrupt you. She had a nasty reputation for killing indiscriminately as well as a huge propensity for great charity. Never needed to find her. She went quiet some years ago.”
My heart aches. What if she’d gotten in over her head with something or someone? Her confidence was her best quality; however, it was hard to know who would be drawn to that confidence who did not have the best intentions for her.
“Thank you, Alex.”
“Sorry I don’t know more. I only deal in immediate threats.”
Through the blinds I can see the sky becoming lighter. My favorite time of day. The sun is about to rise. Alex must notice it too.
“Hey, I have an idea.” His eyes brighten with an easy smile appearing on his face. He is angelic when he smiles. I give him a look like he’s about to ask me to jump off a building. “All right, you have my attention. What is it now?”
“Let’s go to the rooftop to watch the sun rise over the city. Is there a fire escape or other way out?”
“There is. And I’m game.” I grab a spare throw off the sofa and head toward the front door. From this floor there is one flight of stairs that leads to the roof. There are keys hanging from hooks on a mirror by the front door. I grab the keys and flash Alex a smile before leaving the flat. I’m looking forward to whatever he has in mind and what vampire magic awaits, because he already has me spellbound.
I open the metal door that opens to an informal terrace. It’s nothing special, with a few empty wine bottles, beer cans, and bird poop. I lay the blanket on the ground directly in front of where the sun is beginning her ascent. Through the clouds, rays of sunlight pour through. But the light looks like a deluge of water flowing off rocks. A waterfall in the sky.
“Take off your shoes,” he says as he removes his leather combat boots before sitting down. I slip off my Vans then sit with my legs crossed like him. From this vantage point you can see high above the streets of London. Only a few double-decker buses pass. Very few people are on the streets. Pigeons coo before taking flight. “This is…different,” I say.
“I love doing this. The silence of that world below us telling us who we should be when we can only be what we are. The sun seems to burn through all the shit we internalize. It sets it ablaze like an offering so we can just be worthy without any labels. Vampire, human, rich or poor. I’ve seen it all.”
His words make my pulse quicken with the fresh blood in my body singing to life. As the sun rises, I place both my hands palms up on my knees, as to catch all the golden, syrupy light the sun offers. He does the same with a smile. Our knees are barely touching when the first rays hit our faces. “Now close your eyes.”
He doesn’t need to say this because they already are. This is a ritual I enjoy myself. To share it with him feels nothing short of divine. I sit there, absorbing the warmth, allowing my thoughts to melt like the winter snow, allowing blossoms of flowers and small mushrooms to break through the frost. All the radiation seeps beneath my skin, swims luxuriously in my veins like blood. And like blood the sun is life. For most humans it is eternal even though one day in the distant future she too will die, but not before exploding and releasing beauty into space to create something new we can’t even fathom. We have no concept how far or deep any of it goes.
I can hear his breathing. It has slowed down. The blood from his last meal is swishing inside him with all the speed of a calm brook. He moves, and I can feel his knuckles brush against mine. I have a deep desire to hook four of my fingers with his.
And then, as if the energy in my body desires to connect with the energy in his, I feel my hand move in his direction. Four of my fingers latch on to the pads of his fingertips. The warmth between us hits me like a solar flare. It feels like the current of something so familiar it’s scary. I can feel him wanting to pull away, afraid of this, but he doesn’t.
We sit there until a typical London cloud crosses the sun, breaking us from the source. We turn to each other at the same time, not knowing what just happened. The cloud moves again, and I can see the world, his history, his love, and his pain reflected in the light of his eyes. We are in a cloud of crackling heat. I’m not sure how long we bask in this sensation until he pulls away.
“Maybe we should go check on your friend.” I nod wordlessly, even though this is clearly an excuse.
* * *
When we return, the flat is quiet, and Colin is still resting. My attention turns to the skulls. Centuries and lifetimes have gone by since they were in my possession.
I open the bag and hold one in each hand. They feel different than they did when I first held them in Chantico’s hut. Before I had sensed there was magic in them that brought out so many memories and mixed emotions in me. Now, after all I have been through on my own, they are merely beautiful objects that happen to be a part of my history long ago. They will go to a museum for the rest of the world to enjoy and learn from.
Flush with blood, bright red tears cover my cheeks. Alex steps close to me with a napkin and wipes my face. “You all right? Hope you don’t mind. Your hands are full.”
I look at him in deep appreciation for his kindness. He knows just what I need in that moment. “Thank you. It feels like I am experiencing the past, present, and future all at once.” More tears stream from my eyes. Alex is there to catch them again.
“Feel it, Malinalli. We all go through that at some point. After, we can move forward again. And it seems like maybe you need this before we attempt to stop Hernán. You’re too wonderful to not be in this world.”
“They are home, Chantico,” I say to myself and to the skulls before turning to Alex. “You’re right. I’m ready to do this.” I place the skulls back in their bag until this is over.
I retrieve stolen memory and history as my job. Maybe it’s the way I have tried to piece together my own soul, to retell my story that has been passed down and then muddled by everyone but me. That is who I have become. Who I am down to my atoms. The skulls held significance because they were tied to Chantico. Cuauhtémoc and Chantico helped me birth a new life. If I held them once again, I felt I could have some grasp on my existence. It happened while searching for them, not when I possessed them.
Hernán sat in the dark clinic, cleaning the wound on the side of his head inflicted by that cunt Malinalli.
For years Hernán had avoided problems, and his enemies had never lasted long before. But he had underestimated Malinalli. And though he had killed Horatio to avoid any unnecessary complications in the future, Alexander J was now involved. And on top of it all, even John had let him down.
John had done as Hernán requested and met her at the museum; however, that was the extent of his involvement. John was treating this stay in London as a holiday instead of work. After leaving Malinalli, John sent him a message that took his blood to the boiling point.
Hernán, in all our years we have never encountered so many problems. Let this one go. She is more trouble than she is worth. Get a grip and stop this obsession. It will get us caught or killed.—J
This time he would obviously have to do everything himself, no matter the cost.
Until recently John and Hernán had had a great business partnership. With every new discovery he made about existence as a vampire, Hernán had found himself wanting to learn even more about his anatomy and how it differed from humans’. John felt the same. Hernán’s natural curiosity drove him to experiment, even if it did seem cruel to the unsuspecting vampires. All the while John never questioned his methods; he simply stayed in the shadows and observed.
Hernán made his most significant discovery when, in the nineteenth century, John had taken him to an opium den in an area in London called the Docklands. John said they’d find easy feeding there, and drinking the blood of the humans who’d imbibed opium would even give them a little high.
There Hernán happened to see a vampire using his blood as a salve to heal a human with infected vampire wounds on her arms and neck. Hernán thought nothing of it until the following day the same human woman healed again spontaneously after the vampire fed from her. But when he considered it, the strange sight made sense: He remembered the effect of turning John, who had been dying, and the rejuvenating effect on himself from consuming the blood of the warrior vampire all those years ago. It had never occurred to Hernán to use vampire blood in small doses. For the right price vampire blood could be a treasure, a sort of opium that could stave off humans’ inevitable decay without transforming them into full-fledged vampires.
Realizing this had sparked images of the future in his mind. The powerful potential of such a product excited him. Creating it would give him a new purpose, because in the depths of his soul, he had never stopped wondering how being a vampire fit into the Christian worldview he had been born into. Did heaven or hell even exist in the way he was taught in the Catholic church? The church would surely denounce what he was and consider what he did sinful. He killed others to survive and profited from death, even though the church in the sixteenth century profited from the death of thousands of Indigenous people. It all made his head spin at first, but the longer he was a vampire, the less he cared about any notion of God, because he felt like a god.
After leaving the clinic, Hernán made his way to Highgate. Since coming back to London sporadically over the years to set up the extraction clinic, he’d always found it a pleasure to walk through Highgate Cemetery. He did so most evenings and early mornings before the gates opened.
On rainy days, he enjoyed how the rain would fall in sheets through the hundred-year-old trees; on brighter days, the sunshine would seem to uncover the graves hidden beneath shade and ivy. Wild, unpruned rose bushes grew in clusters. Small droplets clinging to the curve of rose petals reminded him of the tears on the faces of his victims as they begged for their lives in the moonlight.
The cemetery also reminded him what it had felt like before this vampire life, when he knew he was dying from years of ill health. He had felt like a leaf suspended in midair, hanging by a single cobweb. So did his existence twirl and sway, in danger of falling at any moment. He saw a wild fox in the brush and stopped. They were everywhere in London with the plethora of garbage to scavenge from. This one had trapped a mouse underfoot, and the fox tore at the mouse’s flesh as it consumed it. The sight of its sharp teeth stained with blood and fur made him think of the job at hand.
Hernán needed a plan, and quickly. This time he had to end Judas once and for all and take what he wanted from both Malinalli and Alexander. At this very moment they were probably trying to come up with their own plan for how to trap him. Alexander had gained a reputation as a tracker and bounty hunter. It had taken some time for him and John to figure out Alex’s true identity, but once they did, for the sake of their business they never went after him outright. Alex had too many powerful friends. But there was no running away now—this was the final game of chase, and it was going to leave someone dead.
And it wouldn’t be Hernán.
First, he needed John to fall back in line. He picked up his phone and opened a new message.
Hello, George
I have a private matter I need your help with. If done correctly it might sway John to allow you to join us. Meet me at the Highgate house in three hours.
George was eager to become immortal so he might never part from John. Hernán had always resented his presence and did not want George to be transformed: There was no room in their partnership for a permanent third wheel. So far John had been reluctant to go through with transforming George; however, when Hernán watched them together, it gave him a deep sense that John’s mind was changing.
It was high time the power in their partnership shifted back into his hands.
As the day wears on, while we try to come up with a plan to deal with Hernán, I can’t stop thinking about Alex. Even the way he touched my cheeks replays in my mind.
Yes, I thought of Colin a lot after our first meeting, but the way I think about Alex is like nothing I have ever experienced. Colin is also very attractive, but I found it easy to let go of him when the signs presented themselves that our relationship was not meant to be.
I already know I don’t feel the same way about Alex. I want him to be mine—he feels like he could perhaps be an unexpected gift of everything I hadn’t known I needed in this lifetime. I’m glad I found the path to heal myself first and be truly open to the prospect of love, because otherwise I might not have appreciated the magnificence of Alex when we first met. I would have been too afraid to take the leap of faith to be vulnerable with a partner. When I became a vampire, I could feel my soul rising to fill out my flesh, and for so long I didn’t think I could be fuller in spirit.
Alex changed that. I could share myself and experience the world and love with another without fear. Our first interaction was not one of sex. It was deeper. To this point in time our movements around each other still feel like a tango, where he is the double bass, deep and brooding, and I the piano. We are different in where we come from and the experiences that have shaped us. But together we create harmony. Our differences complement each other to create a beautiful sound.
Colin begins to stir around midnight. Alex and I look at the clock.
“I think it is better we all stick together. You should continue to crash here with me,” I say.
