The Kiss

Brit had already woken and was sitting on the bed with a book open in her lap before the sun had finally set. Reading slowly, her lips moved silently over the words before reading aloud. Ethan woke as she said, “The Kiss was painted by Gustav Klimt during his golden period and is probably his most famous work.” Tracing her knee with his finger, Ethan listened as Brit read about the painting yet again from the book that Larissa had given to her. She read the various interpretations of the painting, which caused him to grin as he mused why the painting had caught her imagination. “It’s in the museum that is housed in the Belvedere Palace,” she read. Brit looked over the book at him lounging lazily under the soft sheets. “That use to be a real palace,” she lisped.

“And we are dining there tonight,” Ethan added as he motioned her toward the dressing room, “but not until much later.” He teased her for her questions by ignoring them, and waltzed her backward to dress to go out. The early part of the night was spent with a seamstress who owned a small dog that yapped whenever someone moved. Ethan’s fingers kept sliding down his thigh to where his pistols were usually worn whenever he glanced its way. The dog eventually went quiet and hid beneath the sofa. Several outfits were commissioned for Brit. Each had lacy or fluttery sleeves because Ethan had found Brit wearing one of his favorite shirts due to her desire for such sleeves.

From the seamstress, Ethan took Brit to the spa, and watched as her nails were lacquered, her hair was styled, and her make-up was professionally applied. At each step, the cosmetician glanced back to him quietly to ensure that all met with his approval. Those running the spa seemed to understand that Ethan wanted Brit perfectly attired so that there was no doubt that she was special to him.

The museum was quite dark when they arrived. It was not until the door opened that Brit realized that people were within. She wore a gothic gown of intense crimson with a luxurious wisteria design embroidered into the fabric with matching thread. The ruffled neckline slid daringly off her shoulders supported by short, puffed sleeves. The gown had an empire waist and the skirt flared prettily causing her to look like she was gliding rather than walking. With gloves and shoes dyed to match, she looked much like a walking portrait. Ethan wore a black jacket and tie, but his vest was made from the same jacquard fabric as Brit’s dress. Her paleness and the gown’s crimson color accented the marks on her neck.

The Klimt room was glowing with hundreds of candles. Several small tables were expensively set and spaced around the room to give each party its own privacy for discussion. Mingled voices murmuring blended prettily with the stringed quartet that played softly from one section of the room. The room was filled with others. The guests were dressed similarly to Ethan and Brit in expensive, rich fabrics; and many were heavily bejeweled. Though she had opportunity to look at other paintings, Brit’s focus was on the “The Kiss” which clearly dominated the room. It was fortunate that their table was situated so that she could clearly observe it. Once seated, several others lingered at the table to greet him and gave Brit a curious glance that was not impolite.

Brit was sipping sweet sparkling wine when she realized that all of the guests were like Ethan, and all of the staff were mortal. Human, like Brit. It was then that she also realized that no other human was dressed as she was. Most were dressed like walking works of art. Thin, sheer fabrics that coyly covered human bodies and enhanced each staff members form, skin, and coloring. Her mossy green eyes widened as she watched a guest touch one of the staff familiarly as she milled about refilling goblets with rich, red liquid. Brit turned toward Ethan clearly alarmed. After giving her a reassuring smile, he placed a single finger to her lips and then leaned to her placing a triad of kisses on her lips settling back as the first course was set before her. It was impossible to notice that others were not being served actual food. As she nibbled on the petite, lacy parmesan basket filled with a goat cheese mousse, the lady at the nearest table sank her fangs hungrily into a pretty young man’s wrist.

Other courses followed: A seafood salad, grapefruit-mint sorbet and butternut squash soup, but Brit barely noticed what she ate. Ethan calmly stroked her cheek while the couple behind them drank from the same girl. The girl was clad in a thin silk set of deep blue that would not hinder touches or bites. One took the girl’s wrist and the other drank from her neck as she lay patiently across the table. When the mesclun salad with a lemon vinaigrette was served, the girl sat up and eagerly licked blood from the lady’s offered wrist while allowing the gentleman continued to sip from her wrist. Ethan leaned turning Brit’s face toward him kissing her cheek. “Don’t stare, baby. Eat some salad.” Ethan relaxed as he continued to watch her reaction and he could hear her anxious heartbeat. “You have nothing to fear, Brit,” he whispered.

Medallions of beef roasted in a pastry surrounded by baked potato fans laced with cheese and bread crumbs were presented on a plate along with a julienne of fresh snow peas and carrots garnished with a large tomato rose. Brit barely noticed its arrival as a human couple standing on a frame across from the painting embraced passionately and slowly as if they were paintings themselves. Ethan caressed Brit’s shoulder and they watched the couple’s performance for a long time before he pulled her to him. He scattered angel-kisses along her throat before he tightened his embrace and drank from her slowly.

With the touch of his fangs on her throat, her mind raced to understand the differences. Ethan’s embrace seemed different than what others were doing. It seemed that others like her were there to serve and to be fed from; and there was a difference between her dress and theirs. Also, differences in the way the mortal men and women seemed more like decorations as if they were merely tomato roses. It was very confusing to her. Ethan pulled back and encouraged her to eat. She noticed that other humans in the room did not eat anything but accepted blood that was offered to them.

Ethan tapped her plate between bites to encourage her to remember to eat. Brit nibbled a bit of everything, but he insisted she finish the beef. He drank from her again before she was served a dessert of a small chocolate cake round with homemade ice cream, crème fraiche, and chocolate ganache. All around her, other mortals seemed to move seductively slow to the music and were available for any to feed on. Brit had so many questions pouring through her mind. Ethan continued to watch her and could sense her nervousness. He noted that she barely touched her latte and her thoughts told him that she did not like the bitterness of the coffee in it. He continued to watch her thoughts for a moment. Then he took Brit’s hand and stroked it softly, “You are adored and mine.” Ethan looked about the room at the human men and women who were there for other reasons before turning back to her. He said simply, “Therefore there are no comparisons.”

At the Opera

Vienna really was lovely from the moment that Ethan and Brit left the plane. Brit could smell the sweet air of spring flowers as the door opened, but she could not see flowers between the dark and the light fog that seemed to cling to the ground. The car was waiting by the time they had walked down the steps from the airplane. It was a long sleek dark car with tinted windows. The driver matched the car in that his hair was black and slicked-back, and he was dressed in a casual black pullover and black trousers. He exchanged a few quick words with Ethan – both speaking a language that Brit did not understand. By the time she had buckled up, the luggage was in the car and they were on their way to The Sacher.

The Hotel Sacher Wien was a grand hotel that had graced Vienna for many years. Ethan told Brit that Princess Sissi use to stay there. They walked past a portrait gallery on their way to their suite. Brit paused by the picture that Ethan pointed out of the famous princess. It was obviously an older picture, and there was someone who looked remarkably like Ethan in the crowd around the princess. Brit looked to him curiously, and he gave her an impish grin gesturing for her to follow the bell boy to their suite. The suite was lavish. A wall was situated between the rooms and the windows, perfectly arranged so one could walk to see outside, but sunlight would not find its way inside. The room had a separate salon, a bathtub and shower suitable for two, and a plush sleeping area. Outside, it had a spacious terrace with a spectacular view overlooking the Opera House, which was a perfect place to dance until the sky grew light.

The opera house was lovely. Ethan had told Brit the story of the opera they would see, while she dressed in her best red gown. Brit stood very still while Ethan playfully lined her lips with a matching liptint. He then tried her patience by adjusting the rest of her make-up by touching up here and there with assorted soft brushes. Brit could hear the murmur of the crowd along the side walks as they flooded to the opera house, and was practically dancing in place for them to leave. Unable to paint cosmetics on his moving canvas, Ethan put away the brushes and escorted Brit out the door.

Crossing the street, Brit’s red gown swished prettily and Ethan picked her up once to swing her over a puddle near the curb. They followed the crowd until they were peeled off to ascend the sweeping stairwell to their cloistered box overlooking the stage. Brit leaned over the balcony to look at all of the people in their resplendent clothing until Ethan finally pulled her back settling her next to him. The lights lowered and the opera started filling every crevice of the house with sounds and sights. Ethan ran his hand through Brit’s hair while she sat astonished at the bright colors of costumes and dancing that accompanied the music. Whispering reminders of the storyline, Ethan ensured that Brit could follow the opera. His whispers became soft kisses on her neck and light nibbles during the first act. In the low lit box, it was as if they were in their own small world.

By the second act, the light nibbles had given way to Ethan’s fangs embedded in Brit’s neck. He casually observed the changes in her body as she listened to the sounds of Mozart’s opera The Magic Flute. Her heart rate raced as the tempo picked up and the drums sounded louder, and the pounding heartbeat forced blood into his fangs. When the music was soft, she almost rocked in his arms and her heartbeat slowed. Her blood simply seeped in then. The animated crowd caused the house grow warm. Brit’s perfume was stronger as she felt her body grow warmer and, though she could not move due to Ethan’s embrace, she could feel the light raking of his nails over her bare thigh beneath her gown with the fullness of her skirt covering his actions.

By the opera’s ending, Brit felt dizzy. She attributed it to the amazing music and dazzling colors, but Ethan knew that it was time to get Brit some fruit juice and food prior to ending the evening dancing on the terrace. She chattered through the meal as he redirected her to eat over and over again. She was excited to be in a new place and seeing new things. Only his reminder that there would be no dancing past sunrise caused her to quickly finish her late night dinner.

A Flash of Focus

Sitting in the library, Brit watched the flames blazing in the fireplace. The flames danced and the wood crackled. Brit simply watched but her mind was not carefree as it often was when she watched flames. She was troubled. Outside, she heard a shout and her mind focused on that. Then there was a light that clicked on and she focused on that. Then someone came to the library, another spoke. Each distraction became her primary focus for a moment only to be placed by another. Closing her eyes and placing her hands over her ears, she rocked slightly on the pillow in the library. Distractions had always been a way of life. They never caused her concern before because they had been normal then there had been a change.

For the past few days, her mind had been clear. Her thoughts flowed easily and strung together without effort. She was able to hear and comprehend full conversations. The gun shots and screams did not tear her from what people were saying. She did not find herself in locations only to wonder why she had gone there until something else reminded her. It felt good to have a quiet, sequential and organized mind. Until her mind had spent two full days with sentient clarity, she never realized that it was cluttered with distractions before. While enjoying her new clarity, she realized that few were distracted like she had always been. It was the first time she did not feel like others

Brit had never had trouble focusing around Ethan. When he was near, she now realized distractions were less but she also realized that her mind was continually centered on him. Even when other thoughts intruded, in the back of her mind, her focus and thoughts remained on Ethan. His nearness was calming and he had the ability to always engage her mind. She thought of the games he played with her that strengthened her body and kept her from becoming so easily confused. Ethan had many ways to keep her focus. But for the past few days, even when Ethan was not near, Brit enjoyed a clear mind.

It was not just her focus that was improved. Her sight seemed better. She could hear clearly. Colors were brighter. She was sure that she could even run faster. Everything was simply enhanced. Then, as quickly as she realized the changes, they started to disappear. At first, she noticed her crayons seemed duller. She colored harder and tried to use brighter selections. Nothing seemed to work and the pages that seemed vibrant the day before grew less while she gazed upon the page.

Staring at the flames, she noticed periodically that her thoughts were slipping left and right. To all of the distractions of the room and street, she noticed every small thing but only fleetingly, and one thought was quickly replaced by the next. She grew frustrated and struggled to maintain her focus on the flames, but distraction after distraction interfered. Her clear, organized thoughts were slipping away as quickly as water would through her fingers. She could feel it. Ethan found her there in the library and settled next to her. He gave her his usual triad of kisses. “Ethan?”

“Yes, Brit?” It took her several minutes to simply explain to him what was happening. Running his fingers through her hair, he pulled her nearer. Touching the circlet on her head and adjusting her dress, he knew what she was feeling. He knew that the effect of his blood was fading within her and cuddled her to him saying, “It’s normal. Don’t worry about it.” And her thoughts shifted from the flames to him.

Practicing Prayer

“Perhaps you should pray,” Ethan said. He took her to the church and there he played the organ while giving her space to talk to God. The sound of the organ was surprisingly good considering the state of the rest of the building. During the first hymn, Brit was more interested in the music than prayer. By the time he started playing the third hymn, it was clearly obvious to him that Brit not only did not understand what it meant to pray but she also did not know about the existence of God. “God is everywhere and made everything,” Ethan quietly explained while continuing to play the song that made the church feel much less empty. “I prayed a lot when I was younger. Human.”

“What do I do to pray?” she asked. He explained that she just talked like she was talking to a friend and not to worry when there was no response. She looked all over the building and back to Ethan. “But none are near,” she told him. He continued to play and gave suggestions. The playing kept his hands occupied and the music soothed the discomfort that came when he realized that Brit had no understanding of the most significant influence in his mortal life. “I found much comfort in prayer in my younger years. Perhaps you should read about it. Talk to others.”

In the city, many were willing to comment on God, but few would discuss the matter. A stripper in town told Brit, “Honey, I mention God at least once each time I’m on my knees.” Many told her, “Not, God. It’s ‘Goddess’.” Yet others told her that there was no god. The books in the library contradicted each other so she returned to the church to find someone with answers. There, near the confessional, she found a tattered pamphlet titled “How to Pray.” It offered steps, tips and warnings. She read slowly, “Step 1: Set some time aside to pray every day. It could be 15 minutes in the morning, right when you wake up, an hour of meditation in the evening, or any time you can get a break.” Looking about and seeing no one, she decided that now was as good as a time as any.

“Step 2,” she lisped, “Know who you are praying to. It is a conversation and you just talk so it can be a casual hello or a cry for help.” Brit found this step bewildering. After all, she had been attacked once in this very church and no one was there to help. Looking up at the large cross on the wall, she mused about Ethan who obviously used to pray a lot and wondered if help came when he needed it. Since she never prayed, maybe that was why help did not arrive when she needed it. The pamphlet cautioned that all prayers were not answered. Gazing more up at the cross, she felt an incredible sense of emptiness in the building. None were near.”

Brit sat for a while and tried to talk to God, but she never felt any sense that anyone heard her. A few came and went. Of those who frequented the church, none wanted to discuss the being for who it was created. Several hours passed, and so she sat and read the pamphlet. Eventually, Lorne arrived as if he knew she was there. She asked if he knew about God and he told her that he knew several by such a name but confessed that he knew the one that Ethan knew very well as that particular being made him. Lorne painted a picture of a jealous, cruel being who once caste him out of his home – a home he helped to create.

Ethan listened patiently to what Brit relayed regarding her discussion with Lorne before telling her that Lorne was like a soldier from the opposite army. Ethan explained that he believed that God was good, was everywhere, and created everyone and everything. In addition, he said that God created free will allowing others to choose what to believe. Brit struggled to understand how he could be so very sure when Vlad, who was near, ran screaming down the street. Both Ethan and Brit watched Vlad run away, and then watched as Ellie followed him. Turning to Brit, Ethan said, “Talk to Stacy. She will help you understand.”

A Public Discussion

Watching the flames in the fireplace, Brit blushed slightly thinking of Ethan leaning forward to whisper a comment against her lips before placing a soft kiss. He then kissed her chin and her throat, and then he placed another on her neck before opening his mouth wider and biting down on the skin. She could hear soft pops as his fangs sank deep through the layers of her flesh. Pressing her against the wall, he trapped her with his hands and body weight ensuring no possibility of her breaking free while he gulped her vitae. She could hear it being pulled from her. After regaining her bearings, she closed her eyes losing herself to the intense sensation.

As she watched the flames, her heartbeat started to race at the memory of the night just as it did while he drank from her enjoying the adrenalin rush that flavored her blood in a way he found pleasing. He drank until she felt dizzy, and then licked his lips clean and ensured that her wounds had closed. Brit stroked his cheek as he grinned at her saying nothing. Quietly, they simply stayed close until he pierced his lip before leaning closer for a different kind of kiss. Her body’s response to the taste of the powerful blood was immediate. She felt stronger. Her thoughts were strangely clear. Blinking up at him, she realized how very beautiful he was, and she wondered if the blueness was always in his black hair. She could smell the ocean and contrasted it with the salty-vanilla scent of her own skin. The night seemed clearer and she could hear the rustling of their clothing. It had happened before, but she associated the clarity and enhanced senses with the blood on his lips and pressed against him in return as she sucked softly on his lower lip until he pulled away.

She tried to follow him but he spun her toward the wall and pressed against her again biting into her neck again. This time, he took only unimportant amounts of blood but focused on feeling her skin part. Letting his fangs slide in and out of her neck…savoring the taste…..

“Brit?” The voice blinked her out of her memory and she noticed the library had become quite full. Merma, Poncho, then Neri, Omega, Larissa and Nareth. Denny entered. Nareth had said that she had bought a dress. Brit and others asked to see it. Nareth looked lovely, but Denny’s focus seemed to be on Brit. “He’s taking too much,” Denny muttered. Then a few minutes later, he added, “I miss the colorful dresses too.” The newspaper he was reading rustled. Others talked and admired Nareth’s dress. Some started to pay attention to Denny as he continued, “Around each other too much.” He muttered something about wedding rings and stared at Brit as he told Nareth she looked beautiful. Then he asked, “How is your beloved Ethan, Brit?”

Denny watched her noticing the paleness. Her answer was sentient, clear, and aware with no hesitation. Denny said, “How many are near” and Brit answered without missing a beat. “Is there anything else you want to tell me,” Denny asked. She told Denny of the ring she received for Valentine’s Day and he gave her no response for several moments. “Brit, I know he drinks from you, but are you drinking from him?” She did not answer and seemed to focus on conversations of others in the library for a moment. Denny picked up a book and hurled it toward Brit who caught it easily and simply put it in her lap. Omega asked him if he had gone mad, then commended Brit on her catch. Denny answered Omega, “No M’Dear. Our dear Brit has tasted vampire blood.”

Brit said softly, “What happens between beloveds is not for public discussion.” The words were not hers, but she felt they fit at that moment. Denny continued to glare at her and said, “I think it is time for bed for you, youngling. Wouldn’t want to stay up too late and miss OUR dear Ethan now, would we?” Brit kissed Denny’s cheek as she left and thanked him for understanding. She left not knowing that, within the hour, Denny would destroy the second floor of the library and spend the following hours repairing it while harboring rage regarding his adopted daughter.