Martina and Gilgamesh - Vampire Style

Finally got a chance to get this up... This is a collab between me and Ghost.

Map for reference: https://i.imgur.com/OpYGFedl.jpg

The breeze twisted around the narrow alleyway, sending a few loose pieces of trash skittering along the ground and knocking the hood off of the lone person pressed against the wall. Her loose black hair flew about, lashing at her face and the wall. With an irritated grunt, the young woman pulled the hood back over her head, this time dragging it down lower before in an attempt to make it stay. The last thing she needed was for somebody to notice and recognize her.

Martina moved forward, as silent and dark as a shadow. She pressed her body against the other side of the alleyway and peered out into the semi-busy street. The sun had disappeared long ago and a few stray humans were making their way home at a brisk pace. Her blue eyes flickered this way and that, searching for the individual she had spent nearly half the day tracking.

The night was a beautiful night. The huge moon sat in the starless sky like a giant, blind eye staring down with little real interest at the dark city. It cared not for the tiny creatures running from bar to brothel and then back to their sad dwellings to sleep away a night that they probably would remember oh so little of.

Why should the moon spare anything else than a blind glace on these vermin living in the gutter? Yes, the city was just an extension of its gutters. One huge gutter overflowing with muddy water, disposed bodies, alcohol and blood. All that dirty blood.

He didn’t much care for the city. It was much too similar to all those before it. Prague. Rome. Constantinople. Uruk. They all started with so great ideals, but succumbed to stagnation, greed, sloth and the blood leaking out of every crack in the walls or up from the gutter grills on the street corners.

With a bored sneer he walked on down the road. Too often had he been thinking thoughts such as these. They were digging into his mind when he least wanted them. He knew why. He was bored. And a deadly decease, that was.

Martina’s eyes narrowed as they caught sight of her target and her hand reached for a gun. She knew that it was useless to her against a creature such as him, but still she felt more safe and secure with her fingers wrapped around the cool metal.

He passed the entrance to the alleyway she hid in, as clueless to her presence as the rest of the people. She waited for a few moments, then moved out of the alley and onto the street, careful to stay hidden in the shadows.

He needed something to do. Boredom was the bane of an Immortal. In a effort to find something to do he open his consciousness to the surroundings and felt as the blood pulsed through the inhabitants of the city. Their pulsating lives sang to him in a multitude of voices. Some sang in rough tones that broke horridly. Others sang in the pristine voices of angelic creatures.

He paid the latter more attention.

Together the blood of the city sang a wonderful concert for him. Each pulsating voice was an integral part of the whole. It was pulsing. It was calling him. Urging him to feast. A primal force appealing to his base instincts. It was beautiful. It was… interesting…

A smile split his face as he noticed a single voice in the chorus. A vibrating, crimson solo about him. Someone was watching him, thinking about him. Some fun at last.

Martina came to a halt as she reached an alleyway. She gave the dark place a quick glance to make sure that it was safe to cross, and then hurried past it, her gaze focusing back on her target. He hadn’t seemed to have noticed her yet, which was strange for his kind. Unless, of course, he just didn’t want her to know that he knew she was there.

However, the real question was where was he headed and why. And would she be able to uncover any new information from him. Those were the things that really mattered.

With a toss of his striking white hair, he turned his head and gazed deep into his stalker’s eyes. His ice-blue eyes held her gaze for a second before swirling in on themselves and turning blood red. Then, with a smile and before the girl could react, he spun into the black gaping maw of an alleyway.

His black Victorian greatcoat fluttered in the wind as he dived into the gloomy place, still grinning like a child who had found a new toy. “Follow…”

She stumbled to a halt as he stared at her, holding her captive by his mere gaze. A tremor ran through her body as his eyes changed from blue to red and, in that instant, she knew that her guess had been right. He was one of them. But then he was gone, rushing into an alleyway, and she was free of the spell.

Martina sucked in some fresh air and gave a shake of her head, feeling somewhat sick to her stomach. But then her cool demeanor from before settled back over her, and the young woman turned to face the alleyway. Darkness stared back at her, but didn’t frighten her. The darkness was her friend.

She slipped into the alley, this time much more cautious than before. He knew she was following, but yet he hadn’t taken her out when he could have. With a crook, that meant that they were playing a game, thinking that they could still safely get away—and Martina was positive that that was what was happening now.

He observed her silently, listening to the rapid tattoo of her excited heart. She could entertain him for a while. Playing with humans was always a short-lived game. But she intrigued him. Her blood sang with a different voice than the others. It held a scent he had rarely smelled before.

“This one will be different, no doubt. So she requires a different game,” though the Vampire as he stepped out of the shadows in front of the girl, smiling enigmatically.

“What are you, girl? A fang-banger looking for a good time? Some goth-chick who wants to get a bit more… interesting?” He didn’t hide the distain in his voice. If she was either, she was just his meal.

Martina took a quick step back as he emerged from the shadows and tremors of fear shook her body. “M-me?” she asked in a wavering voice as she pointed at herself with her left hand, her right still wrapped around the small gun underneath her cloak. “I… I just g-got los-st, sir.” Her blue eyes flickered from him to the ground and back again.

He stifled a laugh. For only a second his voice quietly rang out in the alleyway like tiny, clear bells in a funeral procession. His red eyes flashed with cruel mirth.

“We both know that is not true,” he said still smiling that alluring crook of his lips. “Your blood sings my face. It smells of secrets and of dedication.” He cooked his head sideways, looking at her highly amused.

“It tells me you dug through six feet of lies, bodies and red tape to get here. Oh no, little girl… You are right where you wanted to be!”

“Hmph,” Martina grunted, dropping the act in an instant. Pretending wasn’t an option in this situation. “So you can see through deception,” she remarked, her tone just as calm as if she was ordering a meal at a fast-food restaurant, instead of talking to a being that could kill her on a whim. “What other tricks can you do?”

She didn’t expect him to answer, but it was at least worth a try.

"I can do many things,” he said offhandedly, waving the question away. “But enough about me. I am but Nosferatu. You interest me far more.” His eyes were locked on her as he slowly stepped forward letting each heavy step echo through the alley.

The blind moon was at his back, sending his shadow creeping towards the girl as he stepped towards her. Such a beautiful night it was.

Martina stepped back as he stepped forward. Her eyes were locked on his dark frame, trying to read his moves and his intentions. “I am no one of consequence,” she told him. “Just a shadow.”

“Indeed. Even now you slink away like a scared ghost. Like a whisper, you try to go unnoticed even now that I have heard you.” His steps became slower, but still the shadow moved forward, looming above the girl.

“Incidentally, nobody misses people who are of no consequences.” Without warning he was there, so close the girl could probably count the hairs on his eyebrows. He leaned over her like a crescent moon, hungry eyes taking in the beauty for her humanity. “Nobody goes looking for a dry, empty body.”

“So, are you but the next sheep for the slaughter? Or do you have relevance?” He smiled wickedly, displaying his two sharp fangs for the world to see.

Her steps came to a halt as he was suddenly over her and she stared up at him with a blank expression. Not an ounce of fear could be seen in her eyes. However, she certainly felt it. Her mouth went dry at the sight of his fangs, so close to her throat, but she didn’t so much as tremble. She refused to show fear to anyone, especially one of them.

“I think you will find that I am no sheep.”

She took a slow step back, releasing her gun and grabbing onto a dagger in the process. Then, deciding that things had gotten a little more dangerous than she had planned, she slammed the dagger home into his thigh and took off running. As she ran, her outline started to waver and she seemed to become less solid.

"Run! And never see the bottom of the rabbit hole,” he shouted after her, not even noticing the knife stuck in his leg. Only when his hand brushed against it did he see the metal piece protruding from his limb. With a chuckle the pulled it out and studied it in the moonlight.

“It is neither of silver, nor blessed. Not drenched in garlic or inscribed with the proper spells. What did she hope to achieve with this toy?...” He tossed the weapon to the ground with a lazy flicker of his writs.

Martina stumbled to a halt as she reached the street. She spun around to look back at him, her eyes watching his movements in confusion. He wasn’t giving chase…? Her cheeks flushed as she felt suddenly foolish. She slipped to the side, out of his line of vision, and let the spell take full effect. In an instant, she was completely invisible.

She peered around the alley just as he tossed her dagger aside, not even phased by the wound she had given him. “Some distraction,” she muttered to herself, her voice so low that even she could barely hear it. Not that she had needed a distraction to get away, like she thought she had.
The wound in his leg stitched itself together without a sound and the only sign of it ever having been stabbed was the tiny rift in the dark dress-pants. The only sign the vampire gave of the stabbing was a disappointed sneer of his lips.

“This alley still smells of your scent, girl. I know you are near, even if your little trick hides you from the eyes of your kind.” He stood still as a grave marker; still as a statue in the gloomy alleyway.

“You came here tonight with a purpose. I am that purpose. So show yourself, or regret it for the rest of your terribly short life…”

“Alright,” Martina said to him, taking charge. “We both want the same thing—information about the other. Now, we can either both go our own separate ways with no one the wiser about the other, or… we can exchange a few bits and pieces with another. What say you, parasite?”

“Parasite?... Such a venomous word. What shall I call you then? Scum? Freak? Witch? Mutant?” His hands spread to the sides in a vain attempt at appearing less threatening. In the bleak moonlight he only looked like a predator ready to pounce on his prey.

“But let’s not dwell in the pleasantries,” he said with a toss of his hand. “And let us not stay in this miserable alley. Do you know of any good restaurants? If not I have been to everyone in the world and can recommend a few…”

She pulled her head back around so that she was out of his line of vision and then, after making sure that nobody was around to see her, she dropped the spell. Then, fully visible, she stepped back into the alleyway. Her eyes were guarded as she stared over at him, but yet she smiled warmly at him, as if he was an old friend.

“I don’t get out much,” she told him. “So it looks like it’s up to you.”
His lips slowly stretched into a wide smile and he walked up to her and past her with a nonchalant gait. He winked at her alluringly with a bright red eye as he passed her. He then started down the street, waving at her so she would follow.

“I know a place you would like… It has an interesting cliental as well. Should satisfy your curiosity…” He kept the details scarce. It would be more fun that way.

She followed after him, matching his pace. It was slightly nerve-wracking, walking right next to someone who thirsted for her blood, to some degree. She didn't know where he was taking her, but she was sure that she would learn something about him from the place that he had chosen--one usually could.

"I thought that your kind feasted on blood, but yet you said that you've been to every restaurant. How's that work?"

“It works nicely,” he replied with a brilliant smile at the girl, not prepared to let anything go lightly. The night was yet young and of what she wanted him to speak, he did not want the blind moon to eavesdrop on. His stride was long as the streets moved passed them, but he forced himself to adopt a slow gait so the girl would need to jog behind him.

“Hmph,” she grunted, growing irritated with his lack of answering anything directly. However, her methods of getting information would have to be different here; a poisoned dagger at his throat wouldn’t scare him in the least.

Martina quickened her pace a little and moved beside him, not liking the fact that she was following in his footsteps.

“Relax. You’ll live longer,” joked the creature with a wicked smile playing across his lips. He didn’t much care how annoyed the girl was in the very short time it took to walk to decent dining quarters.

Finally he stopped his melodiously slow gait. And quite suddenly as well. No neon-sign shone, no waiter standing outside a brightly lit door with a open menu, not even a single tone of cheap Italian music drifted out from an open window.

The only thing even close to the two pedestrians were two huge gothic apartment-complexes looking worse for wear as if they had been standing there since the Victorian era. Something which they had, incidentally. “Here we are.”

“Here?” Martina asked, her voice skeptic. She raised an eyebrow as her eyes traveled up and down the place. There seemed to be nothing special about it, just two old buildings.

She glanced over at her companion, unsure if he was pulling her leg or not. She wasn’t about to become a meal for the family of his, was she? Well, there was only one way to find out.

“Let’s do this.”

“If the lady insists,” he whispered sarcastically with a sideways glance at the girl. This was sure to entice her somewhat. “Pay close attention now, kid.”

He took a slow, shallow breath before reaching his hand forward towards the border between the two structures. His blood was pulsating through his veins as he concentrated. Slowly his fingers twisted and formed an impossibly complicated sign. Slowly he moved it in a semi-circle, his fingers forming a new impossibly complicated sign.

He did this a few times in quick succession, each time his hand moved in a different direction in front of him and his fingers making a new sign that would be impossible for a human to replicate.

As he finished, there came to be a building in-between the two old houses. It was a low, two-story restaurant that looked twice as old as its neighbour. Because it was. Its weary sign read “A crimson appetiser” and from its coloured windows now streamed a pleasant tune, but not a single passer-by seemed to notice the distinct restaurant.

Martina felt the blood rush from her face as the building materialized out of no where, but she hid the reaction by pulling her hood lower over her face. “I’m no kid,” she responded as her eyes flickered over the building, unable to miss the sign and the dark meaning behind it. This was most likely going to be the most unsettling place she had ever visited in her life.

“A kid would know better than to hang around you.”

“Yet, here you are,” he said with an amused sneer as he scaled the stairs leading to the black doors of the redbrick house. Now that they were closer, you could see the runes, emblems and sigils carved or painted on the walls. The source of the restaurant’s effective camouflage.

“Ladies first,” he said as he opened the door and held it for her.

“Hmph,” she grunted as she strode past him with her head held high in the air. “Watch yourself,” she said to him as she turned back to face him, making sure to keep her voice low. “People who irritate me tend to wind up either dead or injured. In your case, I’d just drive a stake through your heart.”

“I’d like that. I’d like that a lot,” replied the vampire with a sad smile as he walked after her into the restaurant. It looked deceptively normal.

In the corner played a band consisting of a pianist, a guitar-player and a pianist. They were strumming away at a gentle tune the vampire was surprised to say he hadn’t heard before. He knew why. Nearly all the guests were vampires and all vampires enjoyed to experience new things after having lived for an eternity.

The mood was civil. They were sitting in small groups around tables. They were eating and drinking and chatting about all and everything. It all seemed so normal.

Martina glanced about her, but saw nothing out of the ordinary. They were all trying to hard to be normal, when none of them were. What would they do, when they smelled the sweet scent of her blood? Not that she was frightened or anything, or that’s what she told herself.

“I’m sure you would,” she muttered and then strode towards an empty table.

He came there before her and pulled the chair out so she could sit. By this he also made sure there was no doubt as to who she belonged to. The guests who had been casting her hungry glances at her back now quietly returned to their own devices as they saw the guest and her companion’s guarding glare.

He then seated himself opposite her and smiled politely before waving a waiter over.

Martina sat down in the offered seat, her eyes glued to the table before her. Her entire body was alive, rushing with adrenaline. She had never felt so alive and so terrified in her life—not even when on duty. However, she stayed still, unmoving.

Her eyes flickered over to the waiter, but she didn’t say anything. As hungry as she was, there wasn’t anything here that she could eat.
He kept his eyes locked on her face with a lazy smile adorning his. He slowly traced the lines of her face with his gaze, taking in her pros and cons. Her humanity was captivating to the immortal and he felt his blood vibrate in excitement. Only as the waiter tapped his shoulder did he manage to tear his gaze away from the girl.

“Ah, yes. Good earning, Luscious,” he said to the waiter with a pleasant smile. “We will need two menus. One Old-blood and one Mortal, if you’d please…” Luscious bowed shortly and smiled before turning around picking up the menus as ordered. He returned a second later and handed them one each.

After the waiter had left, the Old-Blood smiled amusedly at the girl over the edge of his own menu. “Oh, you didn’t expect to eat? It’s not uncommon for us to bring humans here, you should know…”

Her eyes flickered up from the table to meet his gaze. “The only reason that I am here is because I’ve dedicated my life to researching and studying your kind. I don’t think that there’s too many others like me, Mister…” She paused, looking at him with a raised eyebrow as she waited for him to finally state his name.

“Please,” he said in a charming voice. “Call me whatever you please.” He put down the menu for a moment to give her his full attention. “I have had so many names throughout the ages. I do not know which to give you”

He smiled again and looked absentmindedly around the restaurant. “Quite embarrassing really…”

“What do you call yourself now?” she asked as her eyes dropped down to the menu. Her stomach growled just at the mere sight of words such as ‘hamburger’ and ‘scrambled eggs’, much to her dismay. Her face remained blank, but inside she was cursing her human weaknesses. It had been twenty-four hours since her last meal…

“Depends where I am and who’s asking,” he said in a melodic tone as he picked up the menu again and looked over the different courses written in ancient Egyptian hieroglyphs. He smiles at the sense of nostalgia the little images produced.

“In your case, I guess I should say my name is John Smith. It is one of my most current names and one you should find easy to pronounce and remember.”

“John Smith?” she repeated with a stifled laugh. However, it wasn’t so much his name that she was laughing at, but the fact that it couldn’t be a harder name to trace. It would take her forever to find him in the records. Of course, that was if he was even registered with that name as a citizen. There was no way to know until she searched through them herself.

She let the menu fall to the table, even as her stomach let out another growl. “And what other names have you used in the past ten or so years?”

“Nothing of it is poisoned,” he said with another charming smile as he indicated her menu with a pale hand. “I have been listening to your growling stomach for some time now and if we are to talk for long, I am afraid I must insist.” He said with a playful display of teeth. He relaxed somewhat backwards into the chair, producing a soft squeak from the old wood.

“A cheeseburger with a salad on the side, hold the pickles.” She spoke softly, evenly, but her eyes were cool and calculating. “Now,” she said as she placed a hand in her lap and scooted forward, hiding the slight movement of her fingers as they flicked a switch on her recording device, which was attached securely to her belt. “Are you going to answer my question, or are you going to keep avoiding it?”

He smiled at her for a long time, holding her gaze with an amused stare. As the waiter coughed, he broke the contact and smiled at him. “I’m sorry, Luscious, I lost myself for a moment.”

He handed back the menus and as he spoke to the waiter in ancient Egyptian. The strange syllables twisted out around his tongue like snakes over sand. The waiter replied just as fluently before gliding towards the back of the restaurant and the kitchen.

“What was it you asked again? I seem to have forgotten,” he said in a casual voice, pretending not to notice the girls annoyance nor her recorder.

She stared back at him, only breaking eye contact with him when the waiter required his attention. The stare was unnerving, but his manners were even more so. He was so unpredictable.

Martina’s hand itched to fly to her gun at his words to her, but she controlled herself, her hand doing nothing more but twitching. This bloodsucker was beyond irritating, but yet she had to act civil to him; he had the information she wanted.

“What other names have you used in the past ten or so years?” she asked again, watching him closely.

“No respite, Li-him?” He gave a tired sigh and smiled weakly. “Very well, let’s play this game of yours. But first, some ground rules.” He raised a hand and with his forceful stare compelled the quivering blood in her veins to raise her own hand, pulling the device with it.

“Here’s rule number one. Cross me and die. Simple and easy to follow.” He held the device through his control over her hand before dropping it into her glass, frying its circuits instantly.

“Rule number two, Li-him. Equilibrium. I’m honest with you if you’re honest with me. I help you if you help me. The second you break the equilibrium, there will be consequences.” He released her hand and in sank to the table, nearly knocking over the empty wineglass.

No matter how much training Martina had received, no matter how much she had taught herself not to show true emotion to others, she wasn’t prepared for this. Her eyes widened with alarm as he controlled her hand, forcing her to destroy the recorder, and she felt the blood drain from her face.

“You had no right,” she growled at him, but her voice was shaky, not yet quite under her control.

"I had every right. Because I took that right and you did nothing to stop me.” He raised his own glass and took a sip of water. Finally he wasn’t smiling. “In my society, in the society you just stumbled into, power in every form is the only thing that matters. Powerful friends, powerful knowledge, powerful skills or just power of the fists you swing.”

“You have nothing here. Li-him. Your laws are paper-thin pleasantries we only choose to play along with. Your morals are just shadows we offhandedly ignore. The only power you have, the only thing keeping you alive, is me.”

He placed the glass back on the table and pushed it towards her with a finger. “You don’t look so well, Li-him. Perhaps you should take a sip of water?”

Martina stared mutely at the glass, buying time to help her gain back her emotionless mask, and then gave an abrupt shake of her head. “I’m fine,” she said, her voice stronger than before, but still there was something about it that was just a little off. “I’m fine.” There—no emotion, no nothing. That was better.

She wanted to just get up and leave, walk away from it all, but she couldn’t. Now that she finally had the knowledge she wanted just an arm’s length away from her, she knew that she had to see this through to the end.

“Are you going to answer my question or not?”

He had taken away her recorder—that was true—but he couldn’t take away her memory.

“Very well. You know the rules anyway so you know how unfortunate any misconduct would be,” he said with a pleasant smile once again lining his face.

Silently he took his napkin and placed it on his plate, looking at its perfectly white surface for a moment. Then he quickly bit the tip of his thumb and traced a complex sigil on the cloth, the dark crimson in striking contrast to the white cotton. He then threw the enchantment onto the middle of the table, still with the sigil undisturbed.

“Wards away eavesdroppers,” he explained quickly before the girl could ask. “As I said, knowledge is power and power is all.”

“Mmph,” she grunted as she stared at the base of her empty glass, pretending not to be interested in what he was saying. She then waited silently for him to continue, to say the information that she needed, to answer her question.

She knew that his threats were anything but idle, but her mission took precedence over all else. If the cost of exposing this kind was her death, then so be it.

He looked at her closely, studying as her blood hardened. Its hum became a feminine tattoo, as if each red cell was marching in step. He could all but taste her determination. It was a tantalizing scent. Slowly he wetted his lips, gently tasting the air as he did.

"So… What do you want to know?” he said in a most seductive voice, his gentle eyes holding her gaze. He lightly leaned his head on his hand, his fingers lightly caressing his lips. “And what are you prepared to offer in return?”

Martina ignored his tone the best she could and instead focused on his questions. She would not allow emotions to rule her, when she was so close to getting what she needed. “I’ve already asked it,” she growled. “Numerous times. You just keep trying to dodge the question. What other names have you used in the past ten or so years? And I want an answer this time.”

He laughed sweetly, tiny silver bells rolling from his smiling mouth. “Indeed, I have been dodging the question. As you have dodged mine.” He smiled silently for a moment before sighing softly and leaning forward, his hand gently wrapping itself around hers.

“My name, my birth name, my given name and my first name,” he said tenderly as he gazed into her eyes. “… is Gilgamesh.”

His other hand also moved to wrap its fingers around the same hand, holding it gently in a romantic fashion. “And what shall I call you, girl?”

Her skin tingled at his touch and she found herself suddenly breathless as she was caught in his spell. With great effort, Martina yanked her hand out of his grip, flustered at how easily he could manipulate her feelings.

“Tiphani,” she responded, barely remembering in time not to say her own name. “Tiphani Colbert.”

“One more time,” he smiled, his hands falling gently down to the table. “One more time, and this time, try not to lie. If I doubt what you’re saying, I shall lie to you.” Slowly he winked at her, his eyelid sliding shut and the opening again all too slowly.

“I’ll start with a simple lie. I will never kill you.” His eyes glimmered deep in their bloody-red caverns, glimmered like the eyes of a hungry beast.

Martina sat there for a moment, seemingly frozen in place as her thoughts whirled wildly out of control. If she told him what he wanted to know, then it was like signing her own death sentence. But if she didn’t tell him the truth, then she would get no answers either.

Slowly she looked back up at him, her blue eyes staring into his red gaze. “Marty,” she said at last. It hurt to speak the name, but it was the only answer she could give that she felt comfortable with, and that wasn’t a lie.

“So, Martina,” he concluded nonchalantly, easily guessing her name from her poorly disguised half-truth. He let the name hang in the air like a spider on a silken thread, while the waiter returned with their food.

The cheeseburger looked anything but a cheeseburger with its Italian bread, six different cheeses and meat that looked more like a perfectly grilled steak. Luscious, the waiter, smiled at her sweetly for a moment too long and a thin hiss escaped Gilgamesh’s lips. The other vampire straightened as if he had been slapped.

“Go… Get me my meal, and her wine…” His voice was cold as ice, and the waiter flinched as if that ice had just been slipped into his pants.

Martina stared at the fancy-looking cheeseburger, but she didn’t move to eat it. “I said my name is Marty,” she said as she looked up at her companion, her voice stiff. “And why is it that you can see right through my lies when nobody else can?” It had been bugging her for awhile now, the way he could see right through her words.

"That’s because I listen to more than your lies, Martina,” he said nonchalantly, but his eyes remained glued to the waiter’s back until it disappeared through the kitchen door. His crimson eyes drifted lazily back to her and he smiled softly.

“It doesn’t sing, though I sometimes use that metaphor. It’s more of a humming. You can hear the melody, its beautiful tones, but not the lyrics of the song…” His hand was slowly playing with the hair right next to his ear as he spoke.

“Singing? Humming? What are you talking about?” He couldn’t possibly be talking about her soul, could he? No, he was a vampire, not a demon. It had to be her blood then.

The thought worried her, more than anything else had. If he could single her blood out from those in the area, then tracking her would be a walk in the park for him. When he realized that she was prodding into his affairs and making her finds known to the police… She shivered at the thought.

“You know very well what I’m talking about,” he said slowly, his eyes looking at her with an almost mockingly gentle gaze. A cold and white finger traced his lip seductively, giving him a thinking expression.

“You want to know what it sounds like? The choir of your heart,” he asked in a whisper, smiling at her more attentively now.

“Go ahead,” Martina said, fighting to keep herself under control. It was so tempting to just climb to her feet and walk out of this place without looking back, but she knew that she had delved in too deeply to back out now.

“Tell me. I’m waiting.”

“So impatient,” muttered the immortal with a soft sigh. “Always so hasty. Are you like this with all your crushes?” He smiled sweetly now, holding her gaze in the gentle light. His hand started moving slowly towards her, but then Luscious was there with two bottles of crimson and two glasses.

The largest of the glasses he placed in front of Gilgamesh and filled it from the largest bottle. That bottle was made of clay instead of glass and its surface was filled with the ancient vampiric runes. Then he filled Martina’s glass half-full and quickly placed the bottle on the table before hurrying off.

He hadn’t smiled this time, though Gilgamesh did.

“I don’t date,” she answered back and then took a small sip of her wine to wet her dry throat. “But that’s not what we’re discussing right now. Every time I ask you a question, you change the subject on me.” Her eyes narrowed as she stared at Gilgamesh, as if she could will all of life’s mysteries from him just by her stare.

He ignored her. Flat and plainly. He took considerate time in inspecting the crimson liquid in his glass, studying its consistency and shade of red carefully. He finally took a tiny sip, swashed it around in his mouth for a while, before swallowing.

“Ah. Just as I remember it,” he muttered absently to himself after licking his wetted lips slowly. He held his gaze on the glass for a moment more, lingering on it as if it was a favoured pet or a loved puzzle.

Martina set her glass down with a bang. “If you weren’t so hard to kill, I’d pull a gun on you right now. And I’m not one to make idle threats, bloodsucker.” She climbed to her feet with her fingers curled into fists. “Stop playing games with me, or I’ll just find somebody else, somebody who isn’t too afraid to answer a few simple questions.”

His laughter rang out across the lazy restaurant, dismissing the hostile mood that her outburst had created. He hadn’t noticed, but the band had stopped playing. They were looking at them. Everyone was looking at the two of them. Even the Ghoul sitting hunched quietly in the back corner.

They all knew. She did not. “Let us be serious, sweet Martina,” he said, still with laughter bubbling on his lips. “You won’t find anyone else. I’m only talking to you because it amuses me to do so. Any other of my kind you find, might not be so amused.” Slowly he licked his lips, tasting her on the still air.

“Anyone else will kill you, or give you a Kiss if they find you as amusing as I do,” he continued. You could feel the capitalisation of “Kiss”. A hidden meaning. “So, sit. Have some of your cheeseburger. Or has that thrilling willpower left you, already?”

She glared at him for a moment longer, and then slowly sank back down into her seat. “You toy with me like a cat does a mouse,” she said, her voice much quieter than before. “Our entire conversation has just been a game to you.”

She reached out a hand and picked up her cheeseburger. After nibbling on it for a moment, she looked back up at the vampire before her. “What is this ‘Kiss’, that you speak of?”

His smile grew pleasant again and the music returned. Chatter resumed in the restaurant and the other guests left the couple to their own devices. He took a deep sip of his crimson drink, sighing softly afterwards, before continuing.

“You have heard the myths, right? That if you are bitten by a vampire, you become one,” he placed the glass in front of him and slowly started stirring it with a lazy finger. “Not true. Instead, there are three kinds of Kisses a vampire can give to a human.” His eyes glinted in the soft light.

“I will not say any details about either of them. The Kiss is a highly intimate and personal experience I would not sully by discussing it openly.” He lifted his stained finger and sensually licked it clean before going on stirring his glass.

Martina took another bite out of her cheeseburger, trying to ignore its savory taste. It was food and she was hungry—that’s the only reason she was eating it. “Or maybe you’ve just never experienced it, and you’re too embarrassed to say it.”

“Ah, I should have known you were America,” he said with a tired sigh, his eyebrows dropping in disappointment. “I say intimate and you think sex… And I understand your simple minds think it is a bad trait to save ones virginity past a certain age.”

His eyelids fluttered absently as he stared into his drink, seeing past its lividly red colour. It its tinted reflection he saw a past stretching back far too long.

“That’s not…!” Martina’s cheeks flushed and she stared down at her food. That wasn’t what she had meant at all, and it had her flustered. “All I was doing was accusing you of not knowing what you were talking about. Sheesh…”

His laugh rang out yet again, a sweet chuckle from the depths of his being. “You… You accuse me of ignorance?!” Again he could not but laugh like silver bells on a cold Sunday morning.

“Oh, the audacity! So refreshing!” He raised his arms above his head and looked up at the ceiling, blessing fate that gave him this moment. “Tell me girl… How old do you think I am?” he asked a few moments after lowering his arms and regaining control of his mirth.

Martina opened her mouth to retort back, but then thought better of it and angrily took another bite of her cheeseburger, buying her more time to think her answer through. Vampires were immortal creatures, so there was no doubt in her mind that he was much older than he looked. The question was, how much older?

“Three hundred,” she responded after swallowing.

“Four thousand eight hundred human years,” he said, smiling nonchalantly over his now intertwined fingers. His elbows rested against the table with his fingers folded together, his crimson eyes peering over them like lighthouse lanterns shining through a storm. “Roughly.”

“Roughly?” she repeated with an arched eyebrow. He was really that old? That explained his control over everything and his nonchalant attitude. Still, the age blew her away. With her life, she didn’t even expect to live past fifty.

“I would think that life would get rather boring after awhile. Watching empires rise and fall, watching people as they grow older, die, and then are forgotten, watching as the world grows more and more populated, while you just simply sit back in the shadows. Doesn’t sound like too much fun.”

“Well, what can I do,” he asked with the saddest of smiles. He shrugged elegantly, his eyes still smiling sadly. “I am immortal. I cannot die. Stab me and I bleed, but only to your eyes. My immortal soul is entwined with my blood and so neither will ever perish…”

He continued after a sip of his meal. “I could stop feeding, but that would only make me wither into a hulk of my former self, never able to die, but neither to live. A fate far, far worse than my current purgatory.”

“Why not commit suicide?” Martina asked in an offhand manner, as if she didn’t really care what his answer to this would be. “A stake to the heart would do the trick, would it not? Or some holy relic.”

She took another bite of her food, watching the bloodsucker out of the corner of her eye. She knew the stories and legends on how to kill a vampire, yes, but that didn’t make them truth.

The question didn’t faze him. It was a question he had often been asked. And often asked himself. One he had answered just as many times. Yet this time, he hesitated. He picked up his glass and twirled the red meal around for a moment before taking a tiny sip. Finally, he ended up giving the same answer he gave anytime it was asked.

“I have… tried,” he said with a sigh more tired than the world. “It hurts. Hurts like a vile thing, it does. Holy relics burn like the fury of a thousand fires and a stake in the heart chills my being till I shiver my bones to dust.”

“Hmph,” Martina grunted as she swallowed and then looked up at him. “Life hurts. You’re just a coward, like I thought.” She set her food down and then leaned back. “Why didn’t you just finish going through with it, when you had already started? Surely it doesn’t take more than a minute, and the pain would have all vanished, instead of having to try and heal one’s injuries after stopping partway through.”

“Didn’t you hear me?” His voice was bored, though it held an edge. “I tried… The stake was so far in it peeked out my back. All of them were.” He took a sip of his drink, trying to wash away the memory.

“There was only ash left of me when I was done with Excalibur, the holiest thing I have heard about,” he continued after another tired sigh. “For 14 years I was nothing more than a man-sized lump of hardened ash until some boy came along and pulled the sword out.”

“Wait…” Martina’s eyes narrowed as she stared at the… the monster before her, and then her eyes widened in both shock and alarm. He had been reduced to ash? He had been… dead, for lack of a better word?

“You… came back?” she asked, her lips slowly forming the words. But then, was it impossible to be rid of his kind? Were they immortal to the point of where even death couldn’t touch them? A shiver ran through her body at that thought.

“I was never gone… My existence was reduced to burning pain beyond pain, faded memories of a time before pain and the numb recollection of what was happening around me,” he explained slowly, gently fingering his drink and licking his fingers clean.

“I even swore loyalty to the boy who finally pulled out the sword. Can you believe that? A Vampire swearing to serve a human?!” His laughter rang out with a sarcastic undertone to it.

“They called me Sir Galahad the Pure, because I never bedded a woman and I seemed to be constantly fasting because I didn’t eat in their presence.”

She simply sat in silence for a few minutes, for once stunned beyond words. As the seconds ticked by, her mind slowly processed what he had told her. After clearing her throat, she spoke.

“So is there no way for your kind to be destroyed completely?” she said in her emotionless voice. “Do you just always come back?”

Never once had she contemplated such an idea, and it chilled her to the very bones.

“Please,” he said with an offended sneer. “Don’t put me in the same booth as the rest of my misbegotten race. Most of what you call ‘my kind’ are just blood-drunk corpses, dancing and killing like the world is so much more different now that they left the spark of humanity in the gutter.”

His word dripped with poison and scorn, and his eyes burned with a deep loathing. “The younglings of today act more like cockroaches than proper vampires. Left to their own devices they would cover the earth in their filth.”

“No,” he said resolutely. “What I am is nothing like them. They are moths, fluttering and thinking they are bats, until the real thing comes along and eats them all.”

So then he was an oddity, even among his kind? Still, it didn’t put her mind any more at ease then before. He was the biggest threat to her and she had no way to protect herself from him.

“How is that?” she asked. “How can you all be bloodsuckers, but yet all the rest are weaker than you? What makes you different from the rest? And you didn’t answer my previous question either. Not that that’s a surprise…”

“You ask too many questions,” he said, his voice finally back to its nonchalant normal. “How am I supposed to have time to answer them all?”

The question was metaphorical and he began answering her. “I am old, that’s one thing. As our kind grows old, we also grow stronger, though our will to live slowly shrinks into nothing. Though there are a lot of uncertainties in a fight between vampires, the oldest will most likely win if there’s a significant difference in age.”

“But even a vampire as old as I can be killed with the right method,” he said in a musing tone. “Not I though…”

“And why is that?” she asked, ignoring his comment about her asking too much. As long as he was willing to talk, she was going to keep on asking. After all, she didn’t know if she was ever going to get a chance like this again.

He smiled with a nostalgic expression, looking out the window behind her. “I already know you haven’t heard my legend since you couldn’t guess my age even after hearing my name, but still… Ah, I’m rambling…”

His smile grew warmer as his gaze moved from the window to her face. “I am different. Never was I bitten by another vampire.”

Her eyes narrowed as she stared at him, racking her brain for the legend he spoke of. She had done plenty of research in her hunt for vampires, but his name meant nothing to her.

“Let me guess, your parents were both vampires? That’s probably why you’re stronger than the rest as well, isn’t it? You’ve got twice the ‘vampirness’ the rest have, right?”

“Hardly. I am not the inbred vermin calling themselves Pure-bloods, even though their ancestry is muddy with the grave. They are nothing but aristocrats with a God-complex,” he said while making a disgusted face.

“Both my parents were human, though the citizens of Uruk though me to be two-thirds god. I achieved immortality differently.”

“Do you enjoy giving me the pieces to the puzzle little by little?” Martina growled, fighting off the impulse to pull a gun on him. He wouldn’t be intimidated, but instead simply laugh. “Because I’m finding it slightly annoying. Now quit beating around the bush and just tell me what I want to know.”

“Ask, ask, ask,” he said tiredly. “That seems to be all you do. Ask and the occasional emotional outburst.”

He took a sip of his meal and peered into the liquid as he spoke. “I believe I have answered enough questions. Now it is your turn. Your turn to answer my inquiries. If you don’t want to, you could always leave…”

She stared at him for a moment, her fingers curling into fists. Her curiosity was burning, and she wasn’t prepared to stop just yet. “Answer my last question,” she said. “Tell me how you became what you are. Then I’ll answer your questions.”

“I will not!” He raised his voice for the first time since entering the restaurant and the effect was devastating. The entirety of the guests stopped talking instantly and many of them even bared their teeth and fangs in aggression.
His gaze was like burning steel as it traveled over them and one-by-one they turned back to their own meals. After the last was cowed, Gilgamesh’s eyes locked onto Martina’s and held them. “You will find your answer in my legend. The Legend of Gilgamesh, He Who Saw The Deep.”

“If I will find it anyways, then tell me now,” she growled and climbed to her feet. Her gaze never left his as she leaned over the table, demanding an answer to her question with that gaze. Fear raced through her entire body as she stared into his eyes and her legs were quaking, but she didn’t back down.

“Tell me, or you’ll regret it, parasite.”

In an instant his hand was at her throat. He had not gotten up from his chair, the arm had just ‘lengthened’ so that its owner could grasp around the woman’s throat.

“Your stubbornness and defiance is entertaining, but only when they are well justified. Is it really worth losing your life over something you can find in nearly any bookstore?”

He hold her throat loosely for a few moments more before finally pulling back his arm and taking a quiet sip of his drink. “Now. Entertain me.”

Martina sank back into her seat without a word. Her eyes were still as defiant as ever, but she couldn’t hide the shivering of her body. She closed her eyes and drew in several breaths to calm her nerves. Finally, when she had her emotions back under control, she rubbed at her throat and stared back at the vampire before her.

“How am I supposed to do that, when I don’t know what you want?”

“Just… tell me about yourself,” he said calmly, smiling at her again. He crossed one leg over the other and rested his hands on the top leg, his fingers folded together.

“Where were you born? When? How were your mom and dad? Your childhood?”

She closed her eyes and let out a deep sigh, regretting ever starting this conversation. “I come from a desert region,” she said as she opened up her eyes and stared down at what was left of her food. “It’s where I grew up, and it’s where I learned how to survive. As I’m sure you know by now, deserts can be a harsh place. Living there, it taught me some valuable lessons.”

His crimson eyes studied her. His head was slanted to the side and he observed the girl with a curious expression. No move was made to interrupt on her story, he sat still as a man dead. Nor did he try to say anything, his lips were shut and did not move.

She looked up at him when he said nothing, curious as to what he was thinking. He was the one that wanted to know about her so badly, but yet he didn’t seem to mind the fact that she had stopped talking.

“Next question,” she said to him, “unless you’re tired of this already.”

His laugh was short and amused. “Right, right,” he muttered lightly as he lifted his glass and sipped it. He sighted pleasantly.

“I know you want to find out all you can about me, but I do not know why.” He let go of his glass and folded together his fingers; his eyes gleaming at her over them. “Why do you dig so deep into my world? Why are you risking your life for this?”

“Would you accept the answer of morbid curiosity?” she asked, but then continued on before he could answer. “I’ve… always been fascinated by your world, since I was four.”

She dropped her gaze to her meal, not wanting him to catch any stray emotions in her eyes. That day would forever be branded in her mind, and with it came the feelings of terror and grief that she had felt that day.

“Very few believe that your kind exists, and even fewer still want anything to do with you bloodsuckers. Finding the information I needed was hard, and most of it was sketchy. Separating fact from fiction was the hardest, but I managed to gain enough info to know what I was looking for. That’s when I found you.”

Her symphony flared with emotion. The echoes of sorrow and fear, it seemed to the vampire. He sat silently and listened, half to her words, half to the choir of her heart. A while after she stopped speaking, Gilgamesh sat there watching her and listening.

Finally he said, “Who died when you were four? How did you survive?”

Her fingers curled into fists at his words and her entire body tensed up. “It’s none of your business,” she said through clenched teeth, even as she forced her body to relax. “Nobody died, and I didn’t have to survive anything. End of story.”

She stared up at him, as if daring him to try and pursue that avenue of her life.

“Very well, Martina,” he said slowly, making his voice sweet as he could. “I shall not dig open that grave as you would have done if our positions were reversed.”

The immortal leaned back in his chair and sat silent for a moment, his head bobbing slightly to the tune of the music. He smiled still.

“What about your ‘special ability’? Where does it come from?”

“I was born with it,” she said, the edge gone from her voice. “My father was…” She fell silent, unsure of how much was safe to say. She had kept her family out of this discussion so far, and she wasn’t willing to bring them into now. However, he had given her some information, and she knew deep down that he deserved the same.

“There were… problems… in the area I lived in. The cops were desperate for some sort of weapon that they could use against this problem. After a few experiments, however, they determined that the risk was too great, so…” She shrugged and picked up her cheeseburger, taking a bite from it.

“So you’re a discarded test-tube experiment?” The disappointment was obvious in his voice. His shoulders slouched and his smile faded. He took a sip of the glass, but the crimson liquid didn’t cheer him up any.

“I guess I should have known as much, still I had my hopes…”

She finished off her cheeseburger and then glared at him. “And what did you think it was? That I was some ‘chosen one’ like in all those stupid fantasy books or something? It’s not like I had any choice in the matter about the whole thing. I am who I am.”

“I thought you’d be more of a mystery…” His voice seemed almost tired and he kept his eyes locked onto the depths of his meal, even though it was nearly empty. With a sad sigh he emptied the glass and sighed.

“I thought you would be more fun,” he finally said and made to leave.

She slammed a fist into the table and climbed to her feet. “I am not finished here,” she growled as she stepped around the table, placing herself in front of him. “And I don’t like to be insulted.” She shoved a finger into his chest and glared up at him, rage sparkling in her eyes.

“I don’t care who you say you are or how powerful you may be, but I am not ready for this conversation to be over.”

Everything happened at once. Chairs and tables were tossed aside as the restaurants guests leapt to their feet and bounded towards the human. They hissed viciously and snarled with fangs out in full display. They hunched in low crouches, like beasts of prey ready to pounce.

In one instant Gilgamesh had swooped her up off the floor, holding her against him with one arm as if she weighed no more than a babe. His overcoat no longer fluttered but moved as if its wearer controlled its movements, flowing around the pair to make a barrier between them and the other vampires.

The Medians held their attack, but hissed and shrieked in defiance, urging to rip the transgressor to shreds. Some had suddenly gained skin the color of ice, others had a dull blue that looked as dead as skin could. There were green hues as well, their owners appearing to rot where they stood. There were elongated jaws filled with fangs, claws where there should only be fingernails and arms with leathery folds appearing to be half-formed wings.

Gilgamesh shrieked back, holding them at bay with his dominating aura. His skin had turned a deep red, its color pulsating in waves of hatred. His mouth was opened far wider than should be possible and in it gleamed long fangs from both jaws. The coat flapped like a set of giant wings, sending a wave of air through the restaurant.

Martina found herself clinging to the vampire as her eyes roamed the suddenly hostile restaurant. How had her simple actions caused such a dangerous reaction? She hadn’t threatened any of them. Heck, she hadn’t even pulled her gun on the bloodsucker that held her.

She yanked her hands off of his clothing as she realized what she had been doing, and then looked up at him, studying the change that had come upon him, much like one would look at a crouched tiger right before it strikes.

He paid no mind to the girl, all his attention was on the gathered vampires. His crimson eyes burned, now red-within-black. His stance did nothing if not exude aggression.

One of the blue-skinned monsters stepped forward, its long tongue slithered around alien words in its huge maw. It talked to him, trying to convince him like he was the one out of line.

The blue-skinned never had time to even blink as Gilgamesh’s free arm flew out in a wide arc. Five deep-red fingers with long claws and black scales slammed into the other beast’s head and ripped it off. It flew across the restaurant and landed in the middle of a still standing table.

Gilgamesh howled, daring anyone to try again.

Martina soaked in the situation for what it was, and then leaned up closer to Gilgamesh’s ear. “Can the… the ‘singing’ of my blood be toned down at all?” she asked him, her words coming out in a whisper. “Like the masking of a scent?”

The only advantage she had over the bloodsuckers was her power of invisibility, but that did nothing if they could track her through her blood.

“Not right now,” he whispered, though his lips did not move. He was still snarling and staring down the crowd. They were slowly starting to back down, slinking away after seeing the fate of their companion.

“We’re leaving.” Just two running steps later and they flew out of the door. Gilgamesh still held on to her, cradling her as he took a third step before leaping into the air. His overcoat fluttered around them as wings on a dragon as they soared up into the late night sky.

She found herself holding onto him once more as he took to the sky. Her eyes roamed the land below them, watching the buildings as they went by. “Put me down,” she grumbled—not out of fear, but out of irritation at having to be rescued.

“I don’t need to be carried like some overemotional female.”

He smiled at her pleasantly now that his appearance once again was human. “Of course not,” he said with a glint in his eye. “But you cannot fly and we should be a distance away from the restaurant, thanks to you.”

His voice was only slightly condescending, like how you talk to a misbehaving dog who doesn’t know any better.

“Thanks to me?” she muttered sourly. “I did nothing wrong, bloodsucker. Heck, I didn’t even pull a gun on you.” She stared at the buildings for a few seconds more, and then looked up at Gilgamesh. “Where are you taking me, aside from ‘away’? And what’s the point, anyways? If they want me, they’ll come find me.”

“And they probably will,” he muttered under his breath, looking straight ahead. “I’ll take you home and safeguard the place till I can make this wrong right.” His nose sniffed the air, but with a sigh he turned to the girl.

“Where do you live? I can smell my way to where your soul’s sent is the strongest or you can tell me and save us a lot of fluttering about.”

“Tracing where my scent is strongest probably won’t get you there,” she muttered as she tugged her cloak closer to her. “And I don’t need you to protect me. I can fight my own battles, thank you very much. Besides, my place is protected.”

She nodded to the north. “Just drop me off at the police station.”

“You want to get rid of me that badly?” He landed smoothly on top a flat-roofed apartment complex, bare and oddly white feet touched down without a sound. Slowly he let her slide down onto the cold concrete, but he held around her still.

“Do you really want to let your perfect information source disappear into the night?”

She opened her mouth to respond, but found that she didn’t know quite what to say. She didn’t want him to disappear into the night, never to be seen again, but neither did she want him guarding her and her apartment.

“No,” she finally said. “But neither do I want you stalking my every move.”

“Let me take you home at least,” he said kindly, smiling softly to win his point through. His coat fluttered once more in the breezeless air before sinking down and remaining still.

“And we will take it from there.” His steps were short and light as he guided her towards the edge of the building.

Martina gritted her teeth and followed him forward. “You’re persistence is getting old. I said that I wanted dropped at the police station. I can make my way home from there.”

“Then I’ll follow you,” he said in a matter-of-factly voice, not even having the decency to seem guilty about stalking her.

"I’ll follow you home, unlock a window and we’ll be right where I want us anyway.” He smiled sweetly as they reached the edge and he halted. “Only difference is that my way is faster.”

“If you weren’t impossible to kill, I’d shoot you right now,” she growled at him, even as her mind raced. She couldn’t allow him to know where she lived, for then he would know exactly where to find her when she spilled what she knew, but yet he wasn’t going to leave her alone until after he made sure that she was safe at home…

“Fine,” she snapped at him. “Greenhurst Street, at the apartment complex there. But why do you even care? I’m just a snack to you. Why don’t you just drink my blood and be done with it?”

“You’re not just a snack,” he said lightly while balancing on the edge. With an easy movement he heaved her into his arms again and prepared to fly off again. “You’re also entertainment.”

‘And maybe a candidate for a Kiss perhaps,’ he thought to himself as he smiled amusedly.

He let himself fall forward before the coat spread out and they rose in the air.

She grabbed a hold of his arm once again, more to steady herself than anything else. “Great,” she muttered in a sarcastic tone. “I’m both the movie and the popcorn.” She watched as the buildings raced on below them, trying to get her bearings. He hadn’t caught her lie, and so she was going to have to be extra careful about how she played this game of his.

“What set them all off, anyways?”

“Before anything else, vampires are arrogant,” he explained with an angry snarl directed at vampires in general. “Just because they are stronger and live longer, they feel they are superior to everything else. The way you kept speaking up to me, they saw as an attack on the vampire race by an inferior creature.”

He sighed in the cold air. “It reached a climax and I had to force them to back off.”

“So they’re afraid of me?” she said, finding the thought slightly humorous. “I could understand that if I starting spilling vampire secrets all over the place, but to be offended just because I’m not afraid to speak up…?” She smirked.

“Afraid of you? Hardly,” he said with an amused chuckle. “They were offended and wanted to rip the offender to shreds.”

His feet finally landed on the right rooftop and he eased Martina down onto the concrete, though he held an arm around her still. “Here we are. Show me your apartment.”

She glanced around them to make sure that he had landed on the apartment complex she had told him, and then pushed his arm away. “Hmph. In order to be offended, they have to care what I think of them. To me, that’s a weakness.”

She slipped a hand into her pocket, her fingers wrapping around the keys to the apartment located here. She then started forward, heading towards the rooftop entrance into the place.

He followed closely behind her, keeping two eyes on her and his third everywhere else, looking for any pursuers.

“I have always though my kind were too obsessed about their superiority to the point of being terrified of losing it,” he muttered in reply.

With a silent nod from the vampire the door opened on squeaking hinges. He smiled at her and motioned her forward.

“I take it that you’re not that way,” she said to him. “Or else you would have killed me by now.”

She pulled her hood back over her face to hide the fact that she was gritting her teeth and strode inside. She walked quietly down the stairs, then paused a few steps down and glanced back to check if the parasite was following her.

His figure was but a step behind her, following her like he was her shadow. He smiled quickly as she looked back, but kept up his constant vigil.

“No I am not,” he confirmed with a sigh. “I know what I lost along with my humanity. What humans still have and which I envy them of.”

He envied her and her race? That wasn’t what she expected, from one of his kind. She turned back to face the front and started down once again. It wasn’t until they had stopped in front of the apartment door that she answered him back.

“What do you miss the most, about being human?”

“Dying of old age… With a loved one in my arms, my family crowding around and my dearest friends in-between,” he said sadly, his eyes studying the carpeted floor. His arm stretched past her and held the door-knob for a second before pulling it open, now suddenly unlocked.

“This place does not smell lived in…”

“I told you,” she said as she shoved past him into the apartment. “I don’t spend very much time here.” She then turned back to face him. “I’m here, so you don’t need to worry about me anymore.”

She stared at the vampire for a moment longer, torn between her need for information and her basic survival instinct. Finally, she moved to shut the door in his face.

“Yes, I do,” he said quickly, his hand catching the door before it could even begin to close. Slowly he pushed it away as he stepped in. He grew worried when he couldn’t sense her lingering sent anywhere in the apartment. It did not seem like her dwelling.

“These flimsy walls and paper-thin norms won’t protect you,” he explained slowly as he stepped further into the apartment. “Neither will that gun of yours.”


“I can protect myself,” she told him as she pointed a finger at the door. “Now get out, before I… before… Just get out!” She placed a hand on his chest and glared up at him. “I mean it, parasite. I’m tired, and I don’t want to deal with this mess right now. We’ll talk in the morning.”

“Yes, we will,” he said with a slight smile. “Since I’ll be staying right here to guard you. You cannot protect yourself against this threat. Your magic tricks are useless against monsters that can smell you and your human weapons are not even doused in our weaknesses.”

He gently held her hand and moved it away before strolling into the apartment. He let himself fall into the large stress-less, smiling at her pleasantly.

She bit down hard on her lip, fighting back some choice words. Instead she simply walked past him and into the bedroom. “You come into my bedroom and I will make you regret it,” she called back to him as she let her cloak hit the ground, revealing the police uniform she hadn’t yet changed out of. With a tired sigh, she slowly began removing things from her belt, piling them on the dresser next to the bed. She knew that she wasn’t going to get away from him tonight.

“Don’t worry, I cannot sleep tonight,” he said from where he leaned against the door leading into the bedroom. He added an amused “Officer” after seeing her uniform and smiled despite himself.

She glared back at him and then, after placing the last item on the dresser, walked back to the doorway. “That’s not a very comforting thing to hear, coming from you,” she told him. “Now go entertain yourself elsewhere, bloodsucker. I need to sleep.”

She flicked the light off and then glared at him, waiting for him to move away before shutting the door.

He smiled, his eyes gleaming softly in the low light. With a soft “Good night” he stepped back into the living room and settled into the comfy chair he had found earlier. But not before biting his thumb and scribbling Vampiric runes around the apartment to shield them from his kind.

She watched him go, waiting until he was out of sight before closing the door and collapsing onto the bed. Even with all her various worries circling her head, sleep did not elude her. Within a matter of minutes, she was in a deep sleep.

******************

Martina’s blue eyes flickered open to see an unfamiliar white wall. Her brow furrowed in confusion and she slowly sat up, looking around her as she did so. This place was even barer of life than her own apartment was, which was saying something.

With a yawn, she placed her bare feet on the carpet. “What a night,” she murmured as she rubbed the sleep with her eyes. Then, with a start, her gaze swiveled towards the door of the room. She had been in the company of vampires…

Quickly she placed her various items back in her belt, pausing just long enough to turn her cell phone back on. She donned her cloak while noting that she had seven voicemails to listen too, all of which were mostly likely from the Chief.

She slid the phone into her pocket and stepped out of the bedroom, her eyes roaming the place for any sign of the bloodsucker from last night.

“Good morning!” Gilgamesh was beaming from the kitchen, the blue apron strapped around him fluttering as he turned toward the girl. His left hand held a frying-pan filled with a yellow omelet and the right brandished a cooking spade.

“I couldn’t find ANY food in the kitchen so I bought some breakfast at the mart down the street. Hope you like onion and ham omelet,” he said cheerfully as he placed the pan back on the stove. He hurriedly seasoned the food before throwing off the apron.

“Uh…” She stared at him blankly for a moment, and then rubbed her eyes again, in an attempt to wake herself up. But when she looked back at the scene before her, nothing had changed.

“I just… usually grab something to eat at a restaurant,” she said, still in a slight shock. With a shake of her head, the emotionless mask crept back over her face. “Do you even know what you’re doing?” she asked him as she stepped fully into the kitchen, eyeing the food with a rumbling stomach. “And I thought that you were supposed to be guarding the place. You did a lousy job at it, to be leaving while I’m still asleep.”

“Worry not, I did not leave you too vulnerable,” he said as he pointed towards the wards painted on the walls. He would have known if anything entered the apartment and he was certain he could reach her before the intruder did.

“And I do believe I know exactly what I am doing. I have always enjoyed cooking, maybe because it’s a useless endeavor for me,” he explained with a distant smile. “The few chances I get to cook for someone; I make sure to do my very best.”

She stared at the walls in a sullen silence, and then looked back at him. “Great. Now the walls are ruined. That’s just what I needed to deal with, on top of everything else.”

Martina leaned against one of the counters, watching as he worked. “And how long exactly do you plan on staying here?” She pulled the phone from her pocket and opened it up, wondering what the Chief had been calling about.

“I could leave if you want me to,” he said with a playful smile. “But you don’t want me to, do you? If I leave, you’ll never see me again.” His smile remained as he turned his back to her to shift the omelet onto a plate.

“And let’s stop pretending this is your apartment. The walls have many scents, but not yours,” he said without turning to face her. His hands worked impossibly fast as he chopped up some vegetables and tossed them onto the plate.

“I told you,” she growled at him. “I don’t spend a lot of my time here. I’m busy elsewhere. I’m sure that you’ve figured out what I do with all of my time, as you’re so good at figuring me out.”

She turned away from him then, putting the phone to her ear. Each message was the same, with the Chief asking where she was, why her radio wasn’t on, and getting after her for chasing after myths and legends, as she always left her phone and radio off when researching vampires. The only difference was the level of concern with each message, as she had never gone so long with her electronics off.

Finally she snapped the phone shut and shoved it back in her pocket. She turned back to face the bloodsucker with a scowl.

“You say you don’t date, yet the strongest scents here are of seven men,” he mused out loud with a smile. “Either this isn’t your apartment or you are juggling seven lovers.” His tone didn’t change from the amused wonder.

With a slight flourish he pulled out the plate with the omelet and greens. He held it out for Martina to take, his other hand holding the cutlery.

Her scowl deepened at his words, but she took the plate and the silverware from him nonetheless, her hungry stomach ruling over her irritation at him. “You’re not going to let this drop, are you?” she grumbled at him as she slid into a seat at the table.

“I just moved into the place, okay? Maybe the people before me were all men. Who knows. But I’m tired of discussing this. We have more important things to talk about than if I own this apartment or not.”

“Indeed,” he said as his smile slowly faded. He paced up to the table and slid into his own chair. “I guess it’s time I warn you. Do not try to do anything with what you learn from me.”

His eyes locked onto hers, but he remained silent. This was important for her to understand. What she now knew was lethal knowledge if the wrong people knew that she knew.

“Yeah, yeah,” she muttered through a mouthful of omelet, never once making eye contact with him. “I won’t.” She took another bite of the food, still not meeting his eyes. She had been searching for this information all of her life, and nobody was going to stop her from using it how she pleased.

His sigh was heavier than he had planned it to be. “I am not saying this to control you, I have easier ways to control human minds,” he said in voice heavy with importance. “It is to protect you. If you write a report about any of this and pass it on, it will fall into the hands of a vampire or Acolyte before it can become too public.” He took a short pause to let the significance sink in.

“When that happens, and it will, you will disappear and anyone who knows something will either suddenly disappear or they will never be the same person again. The whole thing will go away quietly and all you’ll achieve will be your own gruesome fate and the ruining of several more lives.”

She swallowed her food and glanced up at him. “You obviously don’t know me. I’ve survived the toughest of desert storms, a never-ending drought where at times I’ve gone without anything to drink for days on end, gang fights where every moment could be your last, and…” Her voice dropped into a whisper and her gaze fell back to the omelet. “A bloodsucker attack.”

She looked back up at him, her blue eyes as cold as ice. “My talent is the disappearing act, but nobody, living or not, can blot me out.”

His laugh was short and filled with sarcasm. “Remember, I warned you,” he said with an ominous voice that seemed to hang in the air even minutes after his lips slid shut. He smiled suddenly. “Well, if you do decide to do something with the knowledge I guess I’ll have to stay by your side to guard you till the day you die.” His smile grew slowly.

She growled as she took another bite of her food and then slammed her fist into the table. “I don’t need anybody to take care of me,” she told him after swallowing. “What I want is for you to walk out of this apartment and never come back. I don’t need you and, quite frankly, you’re getting on my nerves and you’re wasting my time.”

His smile faded and he pointed towards the door leading to the bathroom, his eyes not following his finger, but holding on to her eyes. He remained silent, but pointed at the door as if his finger would force it to reveal its secrets.
Behind the door, in the bathtub which had been dirty before the vampire arrived, lay the corpses of two vampires and a pile of ash which has been the third.

She ignored his gaze and followed his finger instead, but she saw nothing except the bathroom door. “So what?” she grumbled as she finished off the omelet, the simple task of eating calming down her frazzled nerves. “There isn’t some type of drug in there, is there? I thought that this place had been wiped down. Nobody can do their jobs right these days… Always so sloppy…”

She started on the greens, still grumbling about people never doing their jobs correctly.

He sighed softly. “Go in. See for yourself what will come after you every hour for the rest of your life,” he said with as much doom in his voice as he could manage. He didn’t smile, he didn’t feel like it.

He did not like his species very much, but one of the three had been nearly 1300 years old and he had met him several times over the years. To one without friends, it felt like he had killed one of his few.

Martina’s mumbling faded away at his words and she climbed to her feet, a sense of dread washing over her. She walked over to the door and peered inside, freezing up as she did so. If he hadn’t of been there… She would have slept through the whole thing, having stayed up so late.

“I’m sure that they’ll grow tired of trying to kill me after awhile,” she said as she turned back to face her… the vampire. He was just another bloodsucker, not her bodyguard, no matter what he said. “I can’t have offended them that badly.”

His eyes leveled on her. “If you don’t keep this to yourself, you will have,” he said with deliberate slowness to emphasis each word. He got up from his seat and walked up to her, still holding her gaze,

“Your entire world will be hunted to death. Family and friends as well. They will use any means to make everything about you go away quietly and they will succeed.” He looked over her head at the corpses, his gaze empty.

“There’s only me,” she muttered as she walked back to the table and slid into her seat. “They already took everything away.” Her voice was bitter, as were the memories.

She finished off the last of her food, tired of talking. The deeper she went into the vampire world, the deeper into her hidden wounds she had to delve. It hurt, and she wasn’t ready to talk about it, especially to a parasite.

“Don’t worry,” he said solemnly, his eyes still on the dead Medians. “I will take care of the bodies. Don’t come in.” He stepped slowly into the bathroom, his gaze trailing the blood coming from the contents of the tub.

He slid the door shut behind him on soundless hinges. It clicked shut, but didn’t lock.


She didn’t even glance in his direction as he stepped into the bathroom, but instead pulled out her phone and dialed the Chief.

“Where have you been?” he growled at her.

“Eh…” she mumbled, still not in much of a talking mood. “Here and there. I…” Her eyes flickered towards the bathroom door and she lowered her voice. “I have some things that I need to discuss with you.”

“You found some evidence, again?” he asked, his voice skeptic.

“Just… Later, okay? I’ll be there in about an hour.”

“Martina,” he growled at her. “This better not be another wild goose chase. I only put up with this nonsense of yours because you’re the best we’ve got. Don’t go letting your hobby interfere with work. I don’t need you getting killed over nothing.”

“I know,” she muttered in response. “An hour. I’ll be there.”

She hung up the phone without waiting for his response and then shoved it back into her pocket. With a sigh, she climbed to her feet and stepped into the kitchen to get something to drink, only to remember that this place offered nothing but water.

“Ugh…” she groaned and banged her head into the empty refrigerator. “How did I get into this mess…?”

“You came to me, remember?” He stepped out of the bathroom with a wry smile, licking a red spot right under his lip. He finally wiped it off with the back of his hand before stepping to lean against the wall, looking at her expectantly.

“What are the plans for today then,” he asked with a smile, trying to figure out what she was thinking.

“I… I need to go home,” she admitted. “And I need to get ready for work. I do have a job, after all.” She glanced at a clock on the wall, and then added, “That I’m late for, by two hours. I slept way too long…”

She ran a hand through her hair and let out a frustrated sigh. “Look, I don’t know how far you’re taking this ‘bodyguard’ thing, but don’t interfere with my job. I don’t need people asking questions.”

“Is that really what you should be worried about,” he asked with a sideways glance in her direction. He spared her only that one glance as he began pacing around the room, wiping his hand over each sigil he had written. After his hand had glided over them, there remained no trace of them ever being there.

“Shouldn’t the vampires from last night be higher up on the list?” He glanced at her again and smiled. “Shouldn’t I?”

She turned to face him, irritation written all over her face. “Look, I’m taking care of things the best I can. I can’t do anything about you, and the bloodsuckers…” She shrugged, repeating her earlier words. “I’m taking care of things the best I can.”

Martina took a step towards him, then paused. “If I don’t get to work, then there will be questions—questions with answers that would put me on Parasite’s Most Wanted if I spilled them.” She folded her arms, glaring at him. “Is that what you want?”

“Well, it might be entertaining,” he said from halfway across the room with an amused smirk. His hand quickly washed away the last rune and he spun to face her.

“For me only though.” His smile grew sarcastic before he walked closer. “So, where to?”

She threw him another glare, then quickly checked her belt over to make sure that she had everything. Satisfied that she did, she knew that she couldn’t stall things any longer. “Shady Street and Triot Street. There’s an apartment complex there.”

She headed for the door, not bothering to wait for him. “And, yes, that is my real home.”

“Want me to take you? Or are you afraid it will cost you the omelet?” His smile was amused, though it edge seemed sad. Three long steps brought him to the door and he opened it with the slightest flourish.

“I didn’t think that you would give me a choice,” she muttered as she walked out of the door, not bothering to show even the slightest bit of appreciation at his gesture. “Traffic is probably bad by now…” she said, more to herself than him. “I’ll have to call and tell him longer, especially without my car…”

He smiled, though it was a thin one, and moved towards the end of the hall. His hand nudged her shoulder gently so she’d follow and not stand muttering to the air.

“It’s kind of cloudy today, so being outside will not be unbearable,” he muttered to himself as much as the girl. “Though if we are to stay out for long I would appreciate a lunch break.”

“Feed yourself,” she said to him as she followed him with misgivings. “I’m not having any part in it. And my place isn’t too far from here, not with wings.” Great. What was she doing, letting him take her to her home? She might as well have signed her death sentence. Oh wait, she had done that last night…

Martina let out an irritated sigh as she stared at his back, knowing that he was much more than he appeared. Even if she could get away from the other parasites out there, she knew that she could never run from him.

As he reached the end of the hallway, Gilgamesh glanced around himself and found a decent sized window. He strode over to it and pulled it open with a rough yank. He was halfway through, one foot on the floor and one in the window, when he turned back and held out a hand for Martina.

“Are you coming, Police-girl,” he asked in an ominous voice more befitting a gloomier setting. His pale white hand might as well have been holding a venomous snake for all the doom in his voice.

“Don’t call me that,” she growled at him, even as she took his hand. “It’s Officer Martina to you. You’re just as bad as the gangbangers, no respect for the law or the people serving in it.”

She glanced at the window, ignoring the tightening of her muscles at her sudden nervousness. “Let’s get this over with, parasite. I’ve got work to do.”

“The law is but paper-thin pleasantries trying to mask human nature,” he said with a sneer that was half amused and half mocking. Before she could make a rebut, Gilgamesh pulled her close and leaped out the window.

He rose in the air quickly, rising out of sight from pedestrian eyes who never looked up anyway. His overcoat fluttered around him and flapped like wings of velvet as he flew.

Instinct told her to hold on to him, but pride told her that it was a weakness. So instead she simply grabbed a hold of her cloak and pulled it close. “The law is what keeps order in what is otherwise a chaotic world,” she growled at him. “You bloodsuckers have rules of your own, do you not? What else is to stop your kind from doing as they please, and exposing themselves to us?”

“Common sense,” he said with a deep, nearly booming voice that was easy to hear over the rush of air as they flew above the city. “Common sense, enforced by power.”

That was all they had time for as Gilgamesh’s feet landed firmly on the rooftop of her apartment complex. His feet were bare when he landed, dampening the impact entirely, but were booted as soon as he started walking.

He took three steps to reach the door leading down before letting go of Martina’s feminine figure. “C’mon. Lead the way.”

“But who is the enforcer?” Martina asked as she started forward. “And what happens when a new bloodsucker goes berserk? What happens when a group of parasites decide that they don’t like their place in life, and so they start attacking humans? Who cleans up those messes?”

She pulled her keys out of her pocket as she reached the door, then glanced back at Gilgamesh. “I have garlic sprinkled at every door and window, along with some blessed water.”

He made a face, both at the primitive wards she had put up and her question about enforcers. “I can stomach the smell of garlic; it bothers us only because we have a different sense of smell than humans. The holy water though… It you set up a proper Sanctified Barrier, we might have a problem.”

He stood behind her, balancing on his tip-toes while he waited for her. “And the enforcers are anyone stronger than the transgressor, though that is often the leader of the coven.”

“Coven?” she asked as she swung the door open and slid her keys back into her pocket. “And no, it’s just some water a priest blessed to humor me. I haven’t had time to do anything more but sprinkle drops here and there.”

She stepped inside, and immediately the stench of garlic bombarded her nose. She wasn’t very fond of the stuff, but it kept her safe, and so she tolerated it. Well… At least, she had thought that it kept her safe.

“A vampire ‘family’, for the lack of a better word,” he explained as he stepped into the apartment after her. He immediately took a step back out again, hissing softly. His eyes were watering at the violent stench. After a deep breath he stepped in, still cringing at the uncomfortable sensation.

“One head vampire and his underlings. Oftentimes the majority of Medians in the coven will be the offspring of the Leader with a few outsiders.” His voice was slightly strained as his eyes flickered around the room.

“But what if it’s a whole coven that’s out of control? Does a stronger coven come in to handle the situation? And how soon do other covens respond to this?” There were so many questions that she wanted to ask, but she bit her tongue, knowing better than to bombard him with them all at once.

She nodded towards the lone couch in the room, which looked as if it had never been used before, inviting him to sit while he waited on her.

“A whole coven going mad? Then it would be a feeding frenzy. Vampires of certain strength would flock around them to have the opportunity to slaughter with their own hands. The blood more noble than any humans’ running down their cheek and a proper challenge even after the first is vanquished.” His eyes sparkled at a wonderful memory, but quickly they were tearing up at the smell again.

“Bah, it is murder,” he coughed out in a pained voice.

“Go outside then,” she said to him. “I never wanted you here anyways. And if you can’t stand it, then I should be perfectly safe from parasites, so don’t try to give me any crap about protecting me.”

Without another word, she left for her room, intent on changing into a fresh uniform. She wanted to take a nice long shower as well, but knew that it would have to wait. Work came first.

Still, her mind lingered on his words. She had read about covens, of course, but now, more than ever before, she wondered if that’s what had been behind the horrors of her past.

“Humbug,” he muttered as he watched her leave, suddenly feeling very old. “As our strength increases with age, so does aspects of our weaknesses.” It wasn’t directed at anyone, but the Vampire wouldn’t be surprised if Martina heard it.

While she was in the other room, Gilgamesh took his time to start warding the room, scribbling sigils where he hoped she wouldn’t notice them and try to scrub them away.

Martina paused halfway into her room, then shook her head and stepped inside. She let her door slam shut behind her and then walked to her closet. “He is so infuriating,” she muttered as she changed. “No matter what I do, I can’t get rid of him. He’s just always going to be there, watching my every move. Like I need taken care of.” She snorted as finished tying her boots, and then climbed to her feet.

She then headed out of the door and back to the living room, trying to convince herself that she would be happy if he was no longer there. She didn’t need him, no matter what he said.

“Still angry, Police-girl,” he stated, not bothering making it a question. Her blood was practically boiling and he could hear its hum clearly even from where he stood looking out the window at the far end from her.

“Am I not all you ever wanted or were looking for?” He smiled half mockingly as he turned away from the window and the grey weather outside.

“Just bug off,” she growled at him as she looked around the room. Nothing seemed amiss, however, so her gaze quickly made its way back to him. “I want nothing to do with you, parasite. I just want to be left alone.”

To prove her point, she walked out of her apartment and shut the door behind her without bothering to wait for him. Then, with her head held high, she headed towards the stairs. “I don’t need anyone,” she muttered. “Absolutely no one.”

“You sound more and more like a vampire,” he said from only a few steps further down the stairway than she was, smiling at her like nothing was amiss. He pushed out from the wall he had been leaning to and fell into step at her side.

“Arrogant and self-sufficient to the point of rather dying that asking your own kin for help.” His smile still held as he turned to catch her expression.

Her eyes widened in surprise at his sudden appearance, only to narrow into thin blue slits at his words. “I am nothing like you parasites,” she snarled at him, her voice low and bitter. “I would like nothing better than to wipe you monsters off from the face of the Earth. Then maybe…” She turned her head away, catching herself only after it was too late.

“Then maybe I wouldn’t be in this mess,” she amended, anger still apparent in her voice.

“’You can’t bring the dead back,” he reminded her with a silent laugh as if it was a private joke to himself. Bringing back the dead was a great part of necromancy, but never did it do just what you wanted. At least not what she wanted.

“Whoever said that I wanted to bring somebody back?” she growled and quickened her pace. “I don’t recall saying anything about dead people, or needing anyone. I work alone, remember?”

“Suuuuuure, I remember that,” the vampire answered in a not very convinced tone. His steps were light as they reached the ground floor, a smile not far from his lips.

“I also remember a vampire attack when you were four. Several people died, but you survived,” he teased in a gentle voice. “And you wonder ‘why’, don’t you? Why you survived and not someone else. That must be tearing you up from the inside.”

She didn’t answer, but simply picked up her pace once again, not wanting to deal with this right now. It was none of his business, what had happened. It was nobody’s business. That part of her life was buried, never to be brought to the surface again.

She shoved open the door of the apartment complex and stepped outside, not even bothering to stop and breath in the fresh air before heading towards her car.

Gilgamesh did stop and inhaled deeply the fresh-ish air of the city. It still had hundreds of scents and smells to it that mingled into a brown mush that permeated the air. The sounds were also too much for the Vampire’s altered senses. Thundering engines, screaming horns and jelling voices nearly made him flinch as he first stepped out.

“This is why I like being nocturnal,” he muttered sourly before following after the girl towards her car.

“Then stay behind,” she answered back, just as sourly. She opened the door to her unmarked police car before looking over at the bloodsucker. “You’re not going to ride with me, are you?” she asked, not at all excited about the idea.

“I can keep up with you running,” he assured her with a bit of a forced smile. “Though that would certainly draw the wrong kind of attention.” Three long steps brought him to the car and he swung open the shotgun-door.

“I carried you, so now it’s your turn to drive me.” This time the joking smile was honest as he fell into his seat and the door slammed shut after him.

“Great,” she muttered as she climbed into the driver’s seat, then started the car. “And what am I supposed to do with you when we get to the station? You can’t exactly sit in my car and wait for me.”

After glancing at the rearview mirror, she pulled out of the parking space and then was off, heading for the police station. Her knuckles were white as they griped the stirring wheel, the only sign that she was nervous. “Oh, and what was that Sanctified Barrier you were talking about?”

“Google it,” he said with a humorous chuckle and a glance in her direction. “That’s what you humans do when you want to find out about something, right?” He winked slyly before turning back to surveying the traffic.

“And you could cuff me and take me in as a suspect for something,” his smile grew grim as his eyes followed the other cars. “Heaven knows, I have committed enough murders for a hundred lifetimes in jail and longevity enough to serve my sentence.”

“Hmph.” She glanced in her mirror as she heard the roar of motorcycles. Sure enough, a trio of three bikers rushed past, weaving past all of the cars. She moved to flick her lights on, but then glanced over at Gilgamesh and let her hand fall back to the wheel.

“I have… business to take care of. I don’t have time to mess with booking you.”

“No sense of humor, Li-him,” he asked jokingly, smiling at her sideways. He gave a low chuckle as his eyes landed on one he could easily recognize as a vampire selling ice-cream to children at a street corner.

“Well, let’s go to your business, then. I shall be your boyfriend until further notice.” He kept smiling as he leaned his head against an arm leaned against the window.

She fought down the temptation to slam on the brakes, and instead glared at him from the corner of her eyes. “I don’t date,” she told him, keeping her voice level. “I told you that. Besides, that’s the worst idea yet.” Here a bit of her anger crept back into her voice. “Nobody would believe it, not with my personality and my attitude towards people in general.”

“Your big brother from out of town, then,” he said with more than a little disappointment tinting his voice.

As he looked out the window, the cloud cover broke momentarily and sent down a beam of light. He twitched and threw himself away from the window, hissing loudly. Then the clouds were covering it up again and Gilgamesh tried to ease himself into his chair.

“Big brother, is better right?”

“Long lost cousin,” she growled, not at all happy about pretending to be related to him. “I’m an… I don’t have much of a family.” Finally she pulled into the station and shut the car off. “Stay out here. I need my privacy, and I don’t need to be worrying about you when I’m trying to focus on more important things.”

His hand moved slowly, still it reached her before she was halfway out the door. Gently he grabbed her wrist, holding her as securely as one of her handcuffs. “I’ll wait. But remember what I said. If you start talking, the wrong ears are going to hear it and the consequences will be dire.”

He let go of her hand and suddenly smiled sheepishly. “Tell them ‘Hi’ from me!”

“I know,” she muttered sourly as she slammed the door shut. She rubbed her wrist where he had touched her, and then let her hands fall to her side. Without a backwards glance, she headed inside.

Immediately she was met by the Chief, a man who was nearing retirement with his graying hair and his hazel eyes. “You are very late,” he told her as he put an arm around her shoulder and guided her towards his office.

“I know,” she muttered darkly, throwing a backwards glance towards the car she could no longer see. “I thought that we already went over this.”

“We did,” he replied. “I just want to make sure that it doesn’t happen again.”

Martina didn’t answer him back until they were in his office and his door had securely swung shut. “I’m late because… because I discovered some things.”

The Chief sat down behind his desk, his lips turned down in a frown. “This better not be about vampires again.”

She strode forward, placing her hands on his desk. “Just hear me out, Chief,” she said, her dark eyes staring into his. “This isn’t just some far-fetched ideas, like before. I…” She paused, already seeing the doubt in his eyes. How could she explain it, so that he would believe? The whole story sounded like a twisted fairytale, and not reality. She had no solid evidence, no nothing…

“Well?” he asked after a few moments of silence. “Are you going to get this newest idea of yours out of the way, so I can put you on a real case?”

With an irritated sigh, she turned away from him with a bowed head. “You want to know where I was last night, and why I was late getting to work? You really want to know?” Without waiting for an answer, she continued to speak. “I don’t think that you’ll believe me, not until I’m dead, but by then it will be too late. I angered a bunch of vampires last night, and they want me dead.”

“Martina, I don’t think…”

“I’m not done,” she said, interrupting him. “They’ll try even harder to kill me, if they found out that I told you.” She turned back to face the Chief, frustrated that he wasn’t understanding. “I know how to hurt them, and I know some things about how their society works.”

“We’ve wasted quite enough time on this whole topic, Officer. When you have solid evidence, then we can discuss this further. Until then, I want to hear no more of it. Have I made myself clear, Miss Hamper?”

Martina opened her mouth to respond back, but instead gave a meek nod of her head. She should have known better, but still… A small part of her had hoped that he would come around this time, now that she had gotten in so deep.

“Good,” he said with a nod. He then shoved a stack of papers towards her. “There’s your next case. Take it and get out of my office.”

Without a word she grabbed the papers and left. As she walked back to her car, she scanned over the papers, soaking in the information to be found there.

Gilgamesh was sitting in the car, waiting for her with an annoyed frown on his face. He was eyeing the car’s radio with a skeptical glare. The station was playing an old piece by Mozart, but the vampire was obviously not pleased.
“The sound quality of this device is rubbish. You should get some better ones soon,” he advised her with a sideways glance.

She muted the radio as she slid into her seat and then threw him a sideways glance. “I don’t listen to music, so it doesn’t matter. Don’t you have anything better to do than sit in a car all day?”

She dropped the papers onto the compartment between her seat and his and then pulled the car out of the station. Why was it she always got stuck with locating escaped convicts, suspects that had disappeared, and the like?

“I find music soothing. An escape from my drab existence,” he explained with a shrug and a carefree smile.

“So, what is this,” he said, now looking through the papers Martina had brought. “Hmmm… Runaway, aye?” His tone was inquisitive, his eyebrow raised amusedly.

“Stay out of my stuff,” she said, fighting the urge to smack him for being so nosy. “And yes. What’s so funny about it? Somebody has to find them. I’m best suited for the job, for they don’t even know that I’m there until it’s too late.”

She glanced over at him, then looked back at the road. “Oh, and you never answered my question last night. Is there any way to hide the ‘singing’ of my blood, like hiding a scent?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact there is,” he said absently while glancing out the window at everything and nothing. His smile was distant and uncaring.

“I can conceal it by shrouding you in my Unholy Dominion.” His head was leaned against his hand which leaned against the door, but his focus had shifted onto the papers she had brought. “A bubble around you that masks the blood.”

“Joy,” she grumbled. Her eyes flickered around the city, watching as the buildings grew more worn. “Any other ways? Or am I going to be stuck on leaning on you for a shield?”

The idea was one that did anything but thrill her. The whole point of asking had been to make it possible for her to get away from him, and any other bloodsuckers that were seeking her out. Already she had a plan figured out, for as soon as she could get away from Gilgamesh.

“Well, there’s one more way.” His attention was back on her and his vicious smile was splitting his face in two. He would have looked crazy if he hadn’t looked so dangerous.

“You could cover yourself in your own Unholy Dominion. You could become more than the defenseless Police-girl,” he said in a ominous voice, looking at her with gleaming red eyes.

“You would be free… Free of a lot of things…”

She didn’t say anything at first, but simply located a free spot by the side of the road and parked there. She stared at the steering wheel for a few seconds more, and then slowly looked over at the bloodsucker.

“Why?” she asked him. “Why are you telling me this?” Her knuckles grew white as she tightened her grip on the wheel. “Have I not made it clear that I hate your kind? Have I not made it clear that I think that you are nothing more than a monster?”

“Indeed, you have,” he said with a laugh suddenly as light and carefree as if they were old friends joking. He leaned a bit closer.

“But you know… Some people say you should ‘Fight fire with fire’…” It was little more than a whisper, but the vampire could hear his voice echoing around the silent vehicle as it if was cavernous.

His smile grew a bit more amused as he thought about the reaction another vampire would have if he or she heard what he had said. “Haven’t you thought about how easy it would then be?”

“No,” she growled at him. “I will not become what I hate most.” She turned her head away from him, as if that could make him disappear. “This conversation is over.”

Without another word, she pulled the car away from the side of the road and continued towards her destination. She would not become a parasite—not now, not ever. There had to be another way to get out of this mess, and she was going to find it.

“If you say so,” he said lightly, though a spark of respect shone in his eyes before he turned away and looked out the window instead. With a small laugh he glanced back at her knowingly.

“You should know I have only ever Kissed a handful of people over the ages. All vampires take a long time to decide if they want to turn someone or not, but I am still considered a rarity for having Kissed so few despite my considerable age.”

“I said that it’s over.” She drove a few more blocks and then pulled alongside the sidewalk. This time she shut off the car and pocketed the keys, and then opened up her door. Throughout all this, she didn’t once look over at Gilgamesh, but instead stared straight ahead, her body tensed with bottled anger.

“Yeah, you said that,” he muttered absently as he got out of the car, obviously meaning her statement wasn’t worth much. His nostrils twitched in agitation after only a step taken. His eyes narrowed as well, signaling distaste for the scent.

“The choir of this place is sullied. Dirty voices singing in rough tones.” His overcoat fluttered in the still air as he followed after Martina.

“Yeah,” she muttered as she strode forward, not nearly as cautious as usual. “What else would you expect, from a place like this?” Her blue eyes turned towards the house numbers, and she mouthed each one as they passed.
“We’re getting close,” she said to the vampire, keeping her voice low as she spoke. “Stay silent, or leave.”

“You want me to spy ahead?” His voice was serene and sensual, alluring even. His eyes glided over the buildings along the street, smiling gently.
“I can get places faster and more silent than you,” he reminded her with a tap on her shoulder. “Just tell me where to go and who to kill.”

‘What part of ‘stay silent’ don’t you get?’ she wanted to snap at him, but instead she simply bit her tongue and slipped in a narrow alley between two of the rundown buildings. She glanced around her and then, satisfied that nobody was watching, she let her power wash over her. In an instant, she was gone from sight.

She stepped out of the alley and started on her way, all the while wishing that Gilgamesh would just leave her alone and let her do her job her way. Had she not told him that, before she had left for work? Of course, he seemed to ignore everything that she said.

“Now what,” muttered he vampire inaudibly as Martina left him alone on the sidewalk without saying anything about who or where. His eyes rested on the building he presumed she would be entering soon, uncertainty crawling in him.
Finally he decided to get a better perspective on the matter. He smiled and held his arms out on the gray day. His body disintegrated into a swarm of bats that fluttered up into the sky, surrounding the house.

Martina glanced back at the sound of beating wings to see bats flying up above her. She bit her tongue, fighting back a rude comment about the parasite. Her blue eyes swiveled back to the house, searching it over both for any signs of life and for an easy and silent way in.

She moved forward, her feet making no sound on the small, but dead, yard. In an instant, she was at the half-opened window and in another, she was inside.

The cop looked around the place, but saw no one. The place was a mess, with dirty dishes scattered all around, and food left out on the counters. Papers were scattered here and there, as well as a phone book.

As she walked forward, she could see that some of the mess was fresh. Somebody was here, and she was going to find out who—whether it be the old man who owned this house, or the man she was after, Tyler Slasp.

They flew about, whirling through the air around the house. Seemingly boundless black specks on the grey and dreary day. Though they were a mingling swarm, their flight held a hidden patter which betrayed the singular mind governing the nocturnal critters.

One of the black harbingers fluttered away from the swarm and followed after the Police-girl’s scent. It flew soundlessly through the air around her, knowing that she was close but not where exactly.

Martina moved soundlessly throughout the house, one hand always resting on her gun. At even the slightest movement or sound, she would turn and point her gun, but there was never anyone there.

Where was he at? Had the police traced the trail wrong, and he wasn’t here at all? Or had he already left?

Still, she continued forward. With a hand wrapped in her cloak, she twisted the handle of a bathroom closet and then pulled it open. A body fell towards her and she stepped back in dismay. The old man hit the ground, the sound as loud as a gunshot in the silent house.

“Stupid,” Martina hissed underneath her breath as she stepped over the body. She slid herself behind the half-opened bathroom door, holding her breath and counting the seconds as she waited for a reaction. Finally, she heard the sound of footsteps.

“Indeed,” whispered the bat as it circled her indiscernible head. It fluttered to and fro, as if it didn’t know exactly where to focus. Finally it decided to float onto the body and settle near a crimson flow from a bleeding wound.

The blood from the recently deceased wasn’t very tasty, it never was. The sensation was similar to expired milk or soiled wine. The longer the person had been dead, the worse the sensation.

“Who’s there?” a voice called out as the footsteps grew closer. Martina glanced over at the bat and then back towards the hallway leading to the bathroom. She pointed her gun at the empty hallway, waiting for the man to step into view.

He stepped around the corner then, his bloodshot eyes flickering around before landing on the body of the man. “Show your face, you coward,” he growled as he moved closer. He held a gun in his left hand, itching for the slightest reason to use it.

Martina simply stood there, watching in silence as he placed a foot into the bathroom. He placed a hand on the door and jerked it away from her, searching but not seeing anyone there. Instantly she reacted. One hand flew towards the hand that held his gun, and with her other she jammed the barrel of her own gun into his forehead. His gun went off as he let out a cry of surprise, but the bullet harmlessly sailed past her and hit the wall behind her. She twisted his wrist, snapping it. His gun hit the floor and slid away from him. In one fluid motion, she slammed him against the bathroom counter with his left hand pinned against his back. She snapped a cuff on his wrist, and then ducked as he punched with his free hand at the seemingly empty air. Feeling the change in her grip, he spun around with his legs flying at her. She grunted as the first leg hit her body, but then grabbed a hold of his second leg before it could make contact and forced him to turn once again. She snapped the cuff on the rest of the way, and then leaned over him, becoming visible once again as she did so.

“You’re under arrest,” she whispered in his ear. “And this time you’re staying in jail.”

The bat stirred as the man came into view and started fluttering again. Outside, its companions flew into a twisting, turning mass at the entrance. The bat swarm merged together into a humanoid figure that slowly became Gilgamesh.

The vampire leaned against the wall, waiting for Martina to come down with the other human. His expression was bored again as he let his mind wander while he waited.

Martina shoved the man out of the bathroom, ignoring his shocked questions about how she had jumped at him from nowhere. She led him out of the house with a gun pressed against his back to ensure that he didn’t try to escape.

“You are under arrest for the murder of the Kross family, escaping jail before your sentence was up, and the murder of Samuel Taft,” she said to him as she shoved him into the back to the car. “I’m sure that you know your Miranda Rights, so I’m not going to bother boring you with those.” She then shut the door and pulled her radio out of her belt.

“I need backup at Samuel Taft’s house on Shady Lane, near the intersection of Cemetery Street. I have the criminal in custody, but the body of Taft is still in the house, along with the evidence of the criminal’s stay there, as well as his murder of Taft.”

As soon as she was sure that backup was on the way, she opened up her door and then glanced over at Gilgamesh, as if noticing him for the first time.

Gilgamesh cast her a delightful smile as she finally came out, but she wasn’t looking at him yet. The last of the bats followed closely after the Officer and rested gently on the immortal’s outstretched, pale hand. The critter sat there for a moment, fluttering its wings and stretching its legs before it too was absorbed into the vampire.

“So, now what,” asked Gilgamesh as he looked up from the bat just in time to catch the Police-girls glance.

“Now we take him to the Police Station,” she responded, her tone indicating that she thought the question was a stupid one, which she did. Did this bloodsucker never watch TV or something? What else would she do with a criminal?

She slid into the car and started it up. As she waited for the bloodsucker, she glanced back at Slasp to see that he was staring mutely at her companion. With a sigh, she turned back to face the front.

*****************************

Martina splashed water on her face and then wiped it clean with a cloth. Her blue eyes stared at the mirror, studying her worn expression. She reached up and touched the dark circles under her eyes.

“There’s got to be a way out of this mess,” she whispered to her reflection. “A way that doesn’t involve me turning into a parasite.”

Her hand fell back to her side and her outline wavered. So easily could she disappear from the realm of humans, but her powers were useless when dealing with bloodsuckers. If only there was some way to…

She started, an idea striking her tired and stressed mind. “What if…” Hurriedly she pulled up the sleeve of her uniform. Her eyes traced the blue veins that snaked under her skin, even as a small bubble of hope welled up inside her.

Her eyes narrowed as she concentrated on her blood, but nothing happened. The blue veins stayed there, and Gilgamesh didn’t come looking for her. She bit her lip, deep in thought. Could she even do this?

Carefully she enveloped her hand in her power, watching as it slowly faded from view. Then, slowly the hand reappeared.

Her power, as far as she knew, was physical. As a kid, she had tried to get it to mask noise, but that had always been to no avail. However, she was stronger now, and had a better grip on her powers. Also, she was desperate. If there ever was a time to stretch her powers to their limits, it was now.

“First,” she whispered as she snapped open her pocketknife, “I have to be able to focus on just my blood, which means…” She swiped the blade across the underside of her arm. Blood welled up at the cut and trailed down her arm.

“I have to be able to make it and only it invisible.”

The air in the apartment still smelled lightly of dust even though it was more actively utilized now than it had been before he had met its owner. He didn’t mind the smell. It reminded him faintly of a mausoleum he used to sleep in during the Dark Ages.

“Nostalgic is what it is,” he muttered to himself as he leaned back in the big chair, tilting it onto its rear legs and propping his feet up on the table. “And a bit sad… A human’s home shouldn’t be reminding me of a tomb.”

His eyes slid shut slowly and he imagined himself sleeping. He was tired, very tired. Watching Martina was a 24 hour job and he hadn’t been able to go get his coffin to sleep in, nor had there been time to hunt and feed. He felt worn out and drained.

The sensation struck him as he was least prepared for it. Blood. Freshly spilt and close too. He didn’t register standing up, he was sitting one second and standing the next. The second after that he was on the other side of the door, his ragged breathing making it seem like he had run a thousand miles.

Martina’s head jerked up as Gilgamesh hurried into the bathroom. She stared at him for a moment, and then down at the still visible blood flowing over her arm. The pocketknife was still in her hand, its bloody blade glinting slightly in the light.

“There is such a thing as knocking,” she growled as she lowered the knife. Blood welled up at its tip and splashed down onto the floor.

Of course, she should have known that he’d be here as soon as her blood was split.

With a final ragged breath, Gilgamesh pulled himself together. He tore his hand away from the doorframe and stood up straight. His eyes though, never left Martina’s arm and the blood dripping from the wound.

“Foolish,” he finally said with a sigh and opened the medicine-locker to pull out a roll of bandages. “I am not even going to ask why…”

Martina waved the hand with the pocketknife at him, in a shooing motion. “I didn’t ask for a nurse.” She set the knife down on the bathroom counter and ran a finger through her blood, smearing it. The wound stung, but she hardly even noticed. She knew that it was a bad sign, showing how tired she truly was, but she didn’t say anything about it.

How was she going to figure this out, if he was going to rush in here every time she drew blood? He was going to get suspicious, ask, if she kept on cutting herself. The frustration was overwhelming, now that she finally had a plan to be rid of him.

“And I didn’t ask for a thrice-cursed baby,” he retorted forcefully, leaning over her with bared fangs. Her blood was fogging up his head. Her heartbeat was too loud in his ears. So close his relief was. Crimson flowed through her veins. It flowed out of her veins at the wound.

Slowly he exhaled, his putrid breath smelling like a freshly opened tomb. She was trapped in the bathroom. He was covering the only exit. There was no way she could get away now. His red eyes leered at her with unmasked hunger.

Martina noticed the change in him and instantly realized how dangerous the position she was in was. She took a quick step back, her hand pressed against the cut, as if she could will the blood away. Her icy blue eyes were focused on the vampire, staring into his red gaze. “Gilgamesh…,” she breathed, taking another step back.

With a vicious growl the beast tore his eyes away from the prey and stalk out each step landing with a little bang.

“Get yourself patched up, you fluttering fool,” he shouted angrily before slamming the door shut, never looking back at her. As he stalked out to the living room, his pace was increasing with each step. He hurried through the apartment, thundered down the stairs and flat out stormed out into the street.

The tension left Martina’s body as she heard him exit the apartment, but she found herself shaking, unable to stop. With a growl she grabbed the roll of bandages that he had dropped and set them on the counter. She then moved to turn on the faucet, but froze when she caught a glimpse of her reflection.

Her skin was pale white, aside from where blood was smeared across it, and her breathing was quite rapid. Her gaze fell to the reflected blood and her eyes narrowed.

“This wouldn’t be a problem if it weren’t for you!” she shouted, as if her father could hear her.

She stared into her reflection for several more minutes and then thrust the faucet handle forward. Cool water gushed out. She scrubbed the blood from her skin, not even noticing the rough way in which she did it. Her heart hammered in her chest and her thoughts spiraled around like a whirlwind.

The bloodsucker had nearly had her for a meal. She had been stupid enough to draw blood when he was just on the other side of the door. She had learned nothing about herself and her powers from the stupid stunt.

She turned off the water and stared down at the wound as more blood flowed from it. Why wouldn’t it all just go away?

The cold breeze outside helped. It cooled his rampant blood down considerably. Closing his eyes, the immortal imagined himself a flame slowly being blown away by the slow breeze, drifting away on the streams of air. It helped. Meditation always helped.

He was thin flickers of flame drifting away from his body, not to be concerned with its needs and worries. He was at peace with the wind and the flame.

“Ah, that’s a joke,” he mumbled bitterly as he turned on the spot and walked back into the apartment complex. He didn’t notice the change in temperature from the outside.

“I might as well as be a failure,” she whispered to herself as she reached into of the drawers and pulled out a washcloth. She soaked it into the cool water and then pressed it against the cut. What difference would it have made, had she died, just like all of the other test-tube experiments? It’s not like she could even do what they had created her for.

“Stop it, Martina,” she growled and gave a sharp shake of her head. “You can’t be thinking like that.”

She checked the wound, to see that the bleeding had slowed. Maybe now was the time to wrap it up, before the vampire came back in.

He walked the steps to the apartment slowly, trying hard not to notice and constantly caress the scent of blood. It was hard, but he managed. Forcing himself not to bolt up the stairs helped.

It didn’t take long before he stood at the apartment door, steeling himself before knocking.

She lifted up her head at the knock and then her brow furrowed. That couldn’t be the bloodsucker, could it? He never knocked, never asked permission. He just did as he pleased.

Martina quickly bandaged up her cut and then made her way through the apartment, stopping only when she reached the door. She opened it, slowly, to see that it was indeed the bloodsucker.

“What do you want?”

“I’d like to come in…can I?” His voice was hesitant. His eyes flickered towards the bandaged arm for a second and the hunger bloomed up in him again. He wanted to tear her apart and feast on her life-liquid. Feel the sweet sensation as her blood flowed down his throat.

He severed that line of thought and looked away as he leaned against the doorframe.

She placed a hand on her hip and stared at him, noting the direction of his gaze. “I can’t trust you,” she said to him. “Even now, you want to suck my blood. Of course, who knows. Maybe it will kill you.” Maybe that was what they had done to her—poisoned her blood.

She didn’t elaborate to him what she meant, but instead stepped back, so that she could close the door. “Why don’t you just go back to where you came from, bloodsucker? I don’t need you.”

“You might not,” he said solemnly. His voice sounded hollow and empty in his own ears, but he ignored the cold feeling it gave him. “I will be waiting outside, if I am not welcome.”

He put his back against the wall and slowly slid down to the floor, closing his eyes.

She growled and slammed the door, then leaned against it, unable to hold back the hot tears any longer. What was she going to do? Now that he had smelled her fresh blood, the temptation for it was even stronger…

“I have to get out of here,” she growled at herself and pushed herself away from the door. She walked into her room and started to pull clothing out of her dresser, but didn’t get very far before pausing, rational thought catching up to her.

She couldn’t flee yet. Gilgamesh would give chase, not to mention whatever vampires were in the area. Her gaze fell back to her bandage and she bowed her head. She was trapped here, unless she could hide her “singing”. But how could she do that, when she didn’t even know if it was possible?

“I need information,” she whispered at last. “Files. Data. I’ve been so busy trying to find information on the vampires that I never bothered to find out about myself. If I can figure out exactly what they were trying to do, then maybe I can figure out a way out of this mess.”

She lifted up her head, determination in her teary eyes. “Gilgamesh!” she cried out and brushed the tears from her eyes. She then started piling clothes onto her bed once more.

“She’ll probably let me rot out here for a day or two,” mused Gilgamesh quietly to himself as Martina slammed the door on him. The vampire huddled down and prepared for the wait. Deciding to entertain himself, Gilgamesh started listening to the sound of the apartment complex and its habitants.

Several snoring voices, a few TVs on, someone playing a Video game, a pair making love. Such interesting things you could hear if you opened yourself to the sounds.

To the attentive monster, Martina’s sudden yell was like a church-bell over his head, and he jumped to his feet. He tripped as the door opened, but was left standing in the doorway. He should run in and find out why she had called on him in that voice.

“Martina?! What’s the matter?” he shouted into the apartment, desperately wanting to bolt inside and find her.

She growled at his shout and yanked out a suitcase. She then began to throw the clothing into the bag, not caring that it was all ending up in a heap. “Get in here, that’s what!” she shouted, her irritation apparent in her voice. Why else would she call him?

“Why does he instantly assume that something is wrong?” she muttered to herself as she shoved the last article of clothing into her dark bag. She straightened up and surveyed her work, a hand on her hip. Yes, that was probably good.

Gilgamesh half stepped, half fell into the apartment as she told him to enter. Knowing now that there was nothing wrong, the immortal took his time and paced nonchalantly into the bedroom and leaned against the doorframe. He looked over the girl and what she was doing, chuckling softly to himself.

“Are we leaving? And I was beginning to like this place,” said Gilgamesh with a humoured undertone. If they were leaving, perhaps it was time to go get his Final Dominion.

“No,” she snapped at him as she walked over to her desk and began sorting through the papers scattered upon its surface. “I’m just packing because I thought that it would be fun.”

Finding the papers she needed, she plopped them down next to the suitcase. “I’m going home. We… You can follow after me at night. I’ll be fine during the day.”

“Very well,” said the monster and glanced out the window at the gleaming red horizon where the sun had set just an hour previous. That meant they would leave tomorrow morning.

“I assume you don’t need any help packing,” asked he with a smile he hoped was cheerful and joking. He still hadn’t quite figured out how to smile without making it seem like a sneer or a display of fangs.

“What?” she asked him, ignoring his last statement. “You’re not going to argue with me?” She was surprised, to say the least, that Gilgamesh would agree with their method of travel.
She pulled out her cell phone and moved to punch in the Chief’s number, but then paused and glanced over at the bloodsucker. She didn’t want him to hear this conversation.

“It’s like the saying goes “A Castle is hard to breach, a sparrow is impossible to find and catch. I actually knew the guy who made that proverb,” explained Gilgamesh when she gave him such an astonished look.

He followed her intently with his eyes as she dialed and stood his ground passively when she looked his way. He knew she wanted him to leave, but still he lingered for a few more seconds before grinning playfully and striding off into the living room where he still could hear the entire conversation.

Martina glared at him as he left and then pushed the door to her room shut. She pressed Send and then moved the phone up to her ear. After two rings, the Chief answered.

“What is it, Martina?”

“Some greeting,” she muttered in response. “Look, I… I’m going to be out of town for at least a week, maybe longer. Slight emergency.”

“What kind of emergency?”

“Just… an emergency, okay?”

“Martina… You have been acting very strange for the past week. This isn’t about vampires, is it?”

Her silence spoke for her and she heard him sigh. Before he could get after her, however, she cut in. “I have never taken a day of vacation. I’m the best you have. Just allow me this vacation, and then everything will be back to normal. I promise, Chief. I just… need some answers, and the only place that I can find them is my home.”

“Is everything alright?” he asked her, suddenly concerned.

“Everything’s fine,” she answered back, but her voice cracked, betraying her.

“A week,” he finally said. “But I need proof that something is going
on, if you’re going to take longer than that.”

“I’ll get it.”

She snapped the phone shut and then ran a hand through her hair. “Great, just great.”

“Are we going,” asked the immortal nonchalantly as he poked his head through the door, looking sideways at the policewoman. He had gotten tired of waiting. When he saw she was done with her call, he pushed the door all the way and strode in.

“The sooner the better.” His crimson eyes gazed lazily and he winked when their eyes met.

She frowned at him when he winked, but didn’t say anything about it. Instead she walked past him and moved to pull an atlas from her small bookshelf, but then paused and glanced back at Gilgamesh. “I suppose you know your way to the Mojave desert?”

“I do,” he confirmed shortly after a quick glance towards the atlas. “I sometimes go out into the desert and find a suitable cave to stay alone with my thoughts.”

“Do you have anything else you want to pack? Please do so,” he reminded her. It would be nice with a change of scenery and maybe a bit of sleep in not too long.

“I can handle myself, thank you very much.” She pushed the atlas back into place and then climbed to her feet. She gave a quick glance to her suitcase and then looked out her window. She wanted to get started now. Adrenaline was racing through her body, fueling her desire. But the sun had set already and it would be dangerous to try and leave at this hour. She bit her lip, mulling things over in her mind.

“Please, Policegirl… We both know better,” he said exasperatedly, brushing through his hair with a distracted hand. Sometimes he was confronted with how little he understood humans anymore.

Gilgamesh followed her gaze as she looked out the window and nodded to himself as much as to her. “Maybe it would be best to wait till morning. I enjoy the night, but so does the rest of my species.”

Martina opened her mouth to argue, but then closed it as she realized that she had nothing to say. However much it pained her to admit it, he was right. If she tried to leave now, surely they would attack.

“Get out of my room,” she growled at him as she shoved the suitcase down onto the floor. “I’m going to sleep. Be ready at dawn.”

“If m’Lady insists, I shall so as commanded,” he said with a satirical smirk and a languished bow. After a quick “May the Madam have a restful night,” he backed out the door and closed it behind him, still smiling with a laugh.
After the door slid shut, he breathed a sigh of relief at the hard wood. He hadn’t been sure he would be able to convince her of waiting till dawn. Now he just had to convince her of making a detour the next day.

She scowled at his words, but held back her retort. She needed rest, not another argument. With a sigh, Martina glanced over at her alarm clock and then plopped down on her bed. Her blue eyes stared at the suitcase on the ground and she blinked once, and then twice. Adrenaline still raced through her veins, but it was slowly fading with the decision to stay here one more night. With the fading of her adrenaline came emotions that she didn’t want.

She hadn’t been home since… Well, not for a long time. The young woman gave a shake of her head. For now, she would get ready for bed. There was no point in worrying about anything else until it came.

A few minutes later she sank into her bed, but it was a long time before she could fall asleep.

“I could use some sleep,” muttered the immortal with another tired sigh, not noticing he was mumbling in Sumerian. Once back in the living room, he settled in one of the comfy chairs and stopped breathing. He found that humans were more open to his nature if they subconsciously noticed he was breathing. It has a bit annoying having to do so consciously, but that’s life.

He smiled at his own irony before opening the book he pulled from its resting place. “The Witch and the Wardrobe. I have only read you twelve times,” he muttered quietly to the book, gently caressing the bound-leather spine before opening its withering pages.

**************************

Martina woke up coughing. She sat hunched over as the coughs shook her body. No, it wasn’t the coughs causing her body to tremble, but something else, something… Her mind didn’t want to remember.

The coughs subsided and she rubbed her throat once before climbing to her feet. Whatever nightmares had gripped her in her sleep were now gone, and she stood firm. She changed quickly into citizen clothing—something she didn’t wear very often—and then drifted out of her room and into the kitchen.

A quick bite to eat, and then they would leave.

“Good morning, Policegirl,” he said pleasantly, smiling bleakly as she passed him on the way to the kitchen. As Gilgamesh rose from the chair, he took a dry petal from one of the flowers and gently placed it as a bookmark before putting “The Witch and the Wardrobe” back onto the table.

“I trust you slept soundly.” The vampire swept gracefully into the kitchen and smiled again, exposing his elongated fangs unintentionally.

She glared back at him from the open refrigerator. “I do have a name, you know.” She then pulled out a container of waffle mix and set it on the counter before moving over to the waffle iron and plugging it in. “And I slept fine.” Which was a lie, but he didn’t need to know that.

“What kept you awake?” Gilgamesh never altered his voice, keeping it coolly pleasant. After a failed attempt at leaning against the kitchen counter, finding it just too short for the task, he stepped back to lean against the doorframe instead.

“Are you anxious about our destination? Or is it the chance of our pursuers attacking again?”

“No,” she snapped at him. She didn’t say a word more, but instead started her waffle cooking and got out such things as syrup and a plate. She didn’t turn to look at him, but instead kept her back to the vampire, as if that could make her deaf to his words.

“For someone not dead, you don’t talk much,” the vampire muttered sarcastically with a slight sneer. Tossing his white hair on reflex, he strode back into the livingroom to pick up that book again.

“Humans can be so annoying,” he sighed into the pages with a thin smile.

She growled, but didn’t say anything as he walked away. Not everybody could be a chatterbox, like he seemed to want her to be. Her mood still clouded, she sat down at the table with her waffle after it was done and then proceeded to devour the food. She wasn’t conscious at how fast she was chowing it down, but just that she wanted to get out of here.

She placed her plate in the sink and then walked down to her bedroom, not even sparing the vampire a glance. After slipping a few items into her pockets and hoisting up her suitcase onto her shoulder, she headed out into the living room to get Gilgamesh.

“We’re leaving,” she told him.

“Exquisite,” said Gilgamesh with real delight. It would be nice to finally have the opportunity to rest. He replaced the flower’s petal at his current page and placed the book back in the shelf. Maybe he’d finish it once he returned.

“Are we taking the car?” He was out in the hallway before asking, again smiling pleasantly at her and extending his hand to take her luggage.

She gave a shake of her head and tightened her grip on her suitcase. “No, I thought that we would walk.” Her tone was sarcastic, but it was also lighter than before. She felt a little better, now that they were finally leaving.

“We’ve got a lot of distance to cover.”

“And since we have such encompassing distances to cover, a slight deviation will go unnoticed, surely,” he asked as he turned to lead down the stairs. He chanced a quick glance to see if she followed, but otherwise remained his chilled self.

“You’ll probably sleep most of the way there, so you shouldn’t notice,” he added after a little while.

She narrowed her eyes on his back, but remained silent until they had reached her car. “What deviation?” she finally asked as she stuck her key in the driver’s door and unlocked it. “And I’m driving.” She unlocked the doors with a click of the button and then threw her suitcase in the back. Like she could sleep with him beside her in the car—or, that was the reason she gave herself.

He first nodded slowly, knowing he’d probably be driving the nightshift if their destination demanded it. Martina didn’t seem like the person who’d pause in her quest for rest. So he let her “win” this time.

“The deviation from your predetermined route is a minor thing. I would much like to retrieve my personal effects from my previous resting place,” he said carefully. He hoped she wouldn’t be too eager in her quest. “Sacrament Cemetery is not far from here.”

“You had all night,” Martina responded. She climbed into the car and started it up, not wanting to waste any time. “You should have gotten it then.” The last thing she needed at the moment was to go to the resting home of the dead.

“I could not leave you defenseless. Such a delicacy would not have gone unnoticed without my influence to safeguard it,” he said softly while giving her an intent stare from the shotgun seat. He emphasized by slamming the door shut.

“Sacrament Cemetery. 21st Willsons Road. It will only take a minute.”

She had put the car into reverse, but paused at his words and glared at him. “I’ve survived this long, haven’t I?” There was no warmth in her voice, her mood now spoiled. “You haven’t needed anything there in the time that you’ve been with me.” She pulled out onto the road then, into the light traffic of the early morning.

“I’m durable,” he responded smartly with an exasperated look on his face. Gilgamesh had never gotten used to cars, mostly since they haven’t been around that long. A good horse he could ride for days, a train he could relax in without problem, but just something about the cars unsettled him.

Maybe the cramped interior, coupled with the excessive speed, along with the fact that there were always a dozen other cars around the one you were in.

She growled, but didn’t say anything more as she weaved through the streets of the town. She slid the car to a stop at Sacrament Cemetery and then put it into park. She didn’t even glance in the vampire’s direction, but instead stared down at her steering wheel. “So go,” she muttered.

“Much obliged,” he intoned solemnly after stepping out of the car and giving the policegirl a deep, quite formal bow. His feet moved quickly once he entered the graveyard, his heels making light clicking sounds as they struck the paved path. His destination was the mausoleum on top of a little rise in the land.

The great stone doors were carved in fanciful images of withering flora and yielded to the vampire’s firm push with a low rumble. The steps leading downwards were covered in a thick layer of fine dust, but disturbed by several footprints leading both up and down. An upwards glance betrayed the nets of hundred of spiders, covering the entire ceiling as it tilted downwards.

At the bottom of the stairs was a familiar, circular room. Six ornate coffins on top of daises made a half circle with a seventh on an ornate altar in the centre. The seventh coffin was unlike the others. A huge thing of grey stone, chiselled into a work of art, now long since dilapidated.

“I’m home,” Gilgamesh muttered softly as he placed a pale hand on the rough stone coffin.

Martina drummed her fingers on top of the steering wheel and then, noticing what she was doing, sighed and leaned back in her seat, her hands now in her lap. “This better be quick,” she muttered. Her blue eyes flickered up, to the graves that filled the place. A shiver ran through her body and she turned her head away. “This place gives me the creeps.”

Gilgamesh took crate care to remember closing the mausoleum’s doors as he was leaving. It proved a bit difficult since it had no handles and he was carrying a stone coffin on his back, tied tightly with rope which he held onto over a shoulder.

As he walked back towards the car, the head of the stone slab bobbing a hand’s length over his head, the vampire tried to think of a way to convince Martina that the coffin was coming along, no matter what. It would be hard.

Martina turned at the movement and then her eyes widened as she took in Gilgamesh and the large object he was carrying. “Heck no,” she growled as her eyes narrowed. She reached behind her and hit one of the buttons on her car door. The passenger window slid down.

“What the crap is that thing?” she called out to the vampire, not bothering to wait until he had reached the car.

“It’s important,” Gilgamesh stated clearly in a voice that brokered no objections, “and it’s coming with us.”

He kicked open the iron-work gate to the cemetery some deliberate force and they swung squealing on un-oiled hinges. As he reached the car he gave a short “open the back” before circling towards the trunk.

Martina growled and shoved open the door of the car. She climbed to her feet and stomped over to him, with her arms folded across her chest.

"Over my dead body."

She stopped next to the trunk and stared up at him with hardened eyes. "I am not having a... a bloody coffin in the trunk of my car!"

Gilgamesh let slip a heavy frustrated sigh that bordered on a bestial growl. He let the stone coffin fall to the ground and it created an honest-to-God mini-quake. “I’m too tired for this…”

“No, scratch that. I’m EXHAUSTED,” he hissed through clenched teeth. “I haven’t slept for weeks, barely fed myself and been running around in the sun with you till my bones feel like maybe they’ll finally start aging after nearly 5000 years! The coffin is coming along, either with our willing consent or with your forced.”

She opened her mouth to snap back, but then paused, glancing the vampire over. They were both exhausted--her with her constant nightmares anymore and the stress the situation was placing on her, and him with his constant vigil over her. The last thing they needed was the tenseness of an argument.

She threw her hands up in the air and turned. "Fine! Whatever! But my car was not made for something so heavy."

Martina moved forward, slowly, to press the button. With a click, the trunk swung up.

"You break it, you buy me another one."