Amaury's Hellion
Page 31
The moonlight helped him find the path to the small bridge where he’d agreed to meet Hervé. If everything went well, Amaury would be paid well to let the man feed off him nightly, well enough to make sure his wife and his son would have enough to eat and clothes on their backs. Already, he’d received a few sous as a token of the man’s honest intent.
It was the love for his family that drove him to this desperate act. So what if some rich man had a fetish and wanted to drink somebody’s blood? If he was willing to pay for it, Amaury was prepared to take the momentary pain and endure it. How bad could it be?
The bridge was drenched in moonlight. Except for the tall shadow of a man, nobody else was around. There had been reports of attacks by wild animals, and not many inhabitants were brave enough to venture out after dark. Nobody would witness what was about to happen.
As Amaury approached the man, he wondered whether he was doing the right thing, but remembering the gaunt looks of his wife and son, he knew he couldn’t go back.
The moment Hervé’s face came into view, he saw the man’s fangs gleam in the moonlight. There was no denying it now: he was a vampire, just as he’d claimed. A cold shiver ran down Amaury’s spine, and the little hairs on the back of his neck rose.
“Faites-le vite.” The quicker this was over, the better.
Amaury held out his hand and felt the cold coins in his palm a second later. The prick of the fangs on his neck was only painful for a split second, then he fell into a state as if he’d had too much wine, a drunken stupor. Not unpleasant.
But when he wanted to pull away from Hervé, he couldn’t. The man wouldn’t let him go, and despite his huge frame, Amaury was no match for the man’s inhuman strength. The vampire’s fangs dug deeper into him, and more blood drained from his body. His vision became blurred, his legs weak, until he collapsed.
Amaury awoke with a thirst the likes of which he’d never known. A thirst for blood. Hervé had tricked him. He hadn’t merely wanted to feed off him—he’d wanted to turn him into a vampire. And he had. To build a community, a family of sorts.
But Amaury had a family, a family of his own, and they needed him. He didn’t listen to Hervé who warned him that he was a danger to them now. Instead, he ran home, ignoring his thirst.
The first person he found upon his return was his son Jean-Philippe. With his tiny bare feet the boy ran toward him, his arms outstretched, wanting to be lifted into his father’s arms.
“Papa!”
But the moment Amaury clutched his son to his chest, the beast in him took charge, and the thirst overwhelmed him.
Not knowing what he was doing, he sank his fangs into the boy. Moments later the lifeless body of his son lay at his feet, and his wife’s hysteric screams filled the night air.
There was no way back from what he’d done. And as a new vampire, he didn’t know how to save him, how to perhaps turn his son into a vampire too, so at least he could have survived in some capacity.
Only later did he learn how to create a vampire, how he would have had to feed his son his own blood at the very moment where his heart took its last beats.
“Monstre! T’as tué mon fils!” Yes, he’d killed his own son.
His wife’s screams were mixed with tears, her voice hoarse. But the way she looked at him when he came out of his momentary trance, when the beast in him was satisfied by the boy’s blood, those eyes condemned him to hell. Living hell.
“Tu vas sentir toute la douleur du monde, des émotions de chacun, et tu seras infirme pour l’éternité. Jamais tu vas sentir l’amour du nouveau. Jamais.”
What she condemned him to was what he deserved: to sense everybody’s emotions, to feel the pain that would cripple him for eternity with no love ever soothing his heart again.
“Mon dieu, qu-est ce que j’ai fait?” What had he done?
Amaury fell to his knees and wept.
Ten
It was the last staff meeting for the night. Amaury was tired and drained. He could sense Gabriel wasn’t faring much better. Using their powers took a lot out of them.
The chairs in the meeting room were arranged so Yvette could see everybody’s face and register them in her mind. Both Amaury and Gabriel stood next to her, off to the side, while Ricky stood at the podium and answered questions after he’d given his standard speech about the incidents.
“That’s just what we need, the police digging around in our past,” one of the employees droned. A collective murmur went through the room.
Ricky held up his hand to ask for silence. “I understand your concerns. Rest assured, we will not release information to the police if they don’t present us with a proper subpoena. As we all know, many of us have less than stellar backgrounds. But we’re past this. We’ve pulled ourselves out of this and have reformed ourselves.”
It was the love for his family that drove him to this desperate act. So what if some rich man had a fetish and wanted to drink somebody’s blood? If he was willing to pay for it, Amaury was prepared to take the momentary pain and endure it. How bad could it be?
The bridge was drenched in moonlight. Except for the tall shadow of a man, nobody else was around. There had been reports of attacks by wild animals, and not many inhabitants were brave enough to venture out after dark. Nobody would witness what was about to happen.
As Amaury approached the man, he wondered whether he was doing the right thing, but remembering the gaunt looks of his wife and son, he knew he couldn’t go back.
The moment Hervé’s face came into view, he saw the man’s fangs gleam in the moonlight. There was no denying it now: he was a vampire, just as he’d claimed. A cold shiver ran down Amaury’s spine, and the little hairs on the back of his neck rose.
“Faites-le vite.” The quicker this was over, the better.
Amaury held out his hand and felt the cold coins in his palm a second later. The prick of the fangs on his neck was only painful for a split second, then he fell into a state as if he’d had too much wine, a drunken stupor. Not unpleasant.
But when he wanted to pull away from Hervé, he couldn’t. The man wouldn’t let him go, and despite his huge frame, Amaury was no match for the man’s inhuman strength. The vampire’s fangs dug deeper into him, and more blood drained from his body. His vision became blurred, his legs weak, until he collapsed.
Amaury awoke with a thirst the likes of which he’d never known. A thirst for blood. Hervé had tricked him. He hadn’t merely wanted to feed off him—he’d wanted to turn him into a vampire. And he had. To build a community, a family of sorts.
But Amaury had a family, a family of his own, and they needed him. He didn’t listen to Hervé who warned him that he was a danger to them now. Instead, he ran home, ignoring his thirst.
The first person he found upon his return was his son Jean-Philippe. With his tiny bare feet the boy ran toward him, his arms outstretched, wanting to be lifted into his father’s arms.
“Papa!”
But the moment Amaury clutched his son to his chest, the beast in him took charge, and the thirst overwhelmed him.
Not knowing what he was doing, he sank his fangs into the boy. Moments later the lifeless body of his son lay at his feet, and his wife’s hysteric screams filled the night air.
There was no way back from what he’d done. And as a new vampire, he didn’t know how to save him, how to perhaps turn his son into a vampire too, so at least he could have survived in some capacity.
Only later did he learn how to create a vampire, how he would have had to feed his son his own blood at the very moment where his heart took its last beats.
“Monstre! T’as tué mon fils!” Yes, he’d killed his own son.
His wife’s screams were mixed with tears, her voice hoarse. But the way she looked at him when he came out of his momentary trance, when the beast in him was satisfied by the boy’s blood, those eyes condemned him to hell. Living hell.
“Tu vas sentir toute la douleur du monde, des émotions de chacun, et tu seras infirme pour l’éternité. Jamais tu vas sentir l’amour du nouveau. Jamais.”
What she condemned him to was what he deserved: to sense everybody’s emotions, to feel the pain that would cripple him for eternity with no love ever soothing his heart again.
“Mon dieu, qu-est ce que j’ai fait?” What had he done?
Amaury fell to his knees and wept.
Ten
It was the last staff meeting for the night. Amaury was tired and drained. He could sense Gabriel wasn’t faring much better. Using their powers took a lot out of them.
The chairs in the meeting room were arranged so Yvette could see everybody’s face and register them in her mind. Both Amaury and Gabriel stood next to her, off to the side, while Ricky stood at the podium and answered questions after he’d given his standard speech about the incidents.
“That’s just what we need, the police digging around in our past,” one of the employees droned. A collective murmur went through the room.
Ricky held up his hand to ask for silence. “I understand your concerns. Rest assured, we will not release information to the police if they don’t present us with a proper subpoena. As we all know, many of us have less than stellar backgrounds. But we’re past this. We’ve pulled ourselves out of this and have reformed ourselves.”
