Copyright 1997

SHE walked into a Paris café, wanting the enclosure, the semi-darkness, and the warmth of the human bodies around her. Her shiny baby blue eyes were hidden behind dark shades; they had grown increasingly bright in the darkness and she always strove to cover them from the eyes of humans. Sitting down at a corner table, she scanned the quiet crowd around her. Paris was full of beautiful people. But then again, the ugliest person could contain some kind of beauty in a vampire's eyes. She was one of the most beautiful vampires in existence.

        She ran a small hand through her wavy red hair, which was still so hard for her to tame. It seemed to her that it had a life of it's own, refusing to stay still even in the days with no wind. She had given up trying to brush it, as she wanted to years ago, when in frustration, she'd tried to cut it, only to find that it had broken the scissors' blades in her hands. It was strange, because to the touch, her hair was so soft. But if she tried to cut it, the strands wouldn't even split in half.

        She was startled from her deep thoughts by the waiter, who seemed annoyed at having to repeat himself more than once. "What would you like to have, Mademoiselle?" He asked through clenched teeth.

        She studied him for a few long seconds. His short black hair was slicked back neatly, almost making it seem as if he had on a helmet. His face was gaunt and thin and his nose larger than it should be. His lips were horribly thin, and so was his long body. In his mind's eye, she saw his desperation to go home, picturing himself sitting on his old and worn couch snuffing away his stack of coke. "I would like a hot cup of strong coffee." She finally said, her voice husky and sensuous.

        He walked away, muttering to himself about how she had to take such a long time to just order a measly cup of coffee. Her thin lips curved into a smirk. Bastard, you'll be even more annoyed when I don't drink it. She had been in Paris for two nights already. The first night, she had stayed in her small apartment and not gone out to feed at all. Feeling exhausted when the sun had come up, she slept the whole day inside the windowless bathroom. The second night, she woke with a ravishing hunger she was at that moment striving to be pleased.

        The hunger wasn't clouding her mind yet, but it would soon start to. The waiter returned with the cup of coffee. He looked at her in disdain as he placed the full cup in front of her. His hands were shaking a little from the growing need for the drug. She looked up at him and smiled, revealing her long fangs on purpose. He gasped and stumbled backwards. Turning away, he made his way towards the kitchen, fearfully glancing back at her now and then.

        She laughed softly, looking down at the steaming cup of coffee. She studied the rising steam with interest. The way it swirled in the air reminded her of the way she felt when she went high up in the clouds, sometimes flying for hours before she would be able to see the earth again. The blackness of the coffee reminded her of the eyes of someone she couldn't remember. Someone who caused her a lot of pain...

        She looked up when she felt someone's presence next to her. The smile that greeted her was very sweet and perfect, well rehearsed and meant to charm. But she could see that in the mind of this man, lurked dark, ugly thoughts directed towards her. He was planning to gain her trust, to go home with her and to rape her violently, leaving her to suffer in her pain and shame. She knew he'd done this before, and that he'd also killed.

        She could see why those human girls fell for his charm, though. His brown eyes were very disarming; they opened wide like a child's, making him look so innocent. His hair was light brown and short, so curly it made him look like a young boy. He was about five feet ten inches and had a powerful build; his muscles rippled against his white shirt. His skin was flawless and in its tanned color, it held a rosy tone. She knew he was her perfect victim and her hunger flared.

        "What is your name, Cherie?" He asked, his voice was soft and meant to be endearing.

        She smiled, feigning shyness. "My name is Leslie." She said quietly. "People call me Les."

        He smiled; thinking that he almost had her. Boy, does he overestimate himself, she thought dryly. "I'm Paul." He said, extending one of his guilty hands for her to shake. "Nice to meet you."

        Leslie took his large hand and shook it softly, trying to give the impression that she was a frail little thing; when with just a gentle squeeze, she could grind the bones in his hands into mince. "It is a pleasure to meet you also." She replied, avoiding his eyes.

        An hour later, thinking that he had her wrapped around his finger, he invited himself to her place for a cup of coffee. Of course, she accepted. They walked out of the café together, turning in the direction of Les' apartment. Paul walked with his hands clasped behind his back, reminding Les of a night long gone; a night she had forgotten, among others. She fought the sudden fierce urge to kill him right there in the middle of the sidewalk.

        In her apartment, he sat down on the black leather couch and looked around the living room. Les went into the bathroom and stared at herself in the mirror. She wondered how Paul hadn't noticed how strange she looked. Her skin was extremely pale and her lips were not the usual pink; they were rather whitish. Her face seemed drawn and she could see her hunger. It was time.

        As she walked down corridor from the bathroom to the living room, she knew he was ready to make his move. He waited for her pressed against the wall on the right side at the end of the hall. He was ready to pounce upon her once she entered the living room. She smiled softly at the little surprise she had for him. She knew that he had a large erection and she was thinking viciously that maybe she'd tear it off.

        Les walked out into the open, looked at the couch, and feigned surprise at his disappearance. As she felt him jump towards her, she moved in a flash, disappearing from his sight. He fell face down on the floor, then quickly jumped to his feet again. She stood right behind him and he turned to look at her, his eyes angry and bewildered. She smiled at him, shaking her head.

        Stepping forward slowly, Les whispered: "My, my. Aren't we a little excited?" Her voice had grown eerie and withdrawn. She made no attempt to hide her fangs. Paul looked into her clouded eyes and felt instantly afraid. But his male pride couldn't allow him to show it. He lunged at her, but her hand stopped him when she made a wide arc and slapped him in the face. He flew across the room, falling against the couch. He looked at her in surprise; he hadn't seen her hand move at all.

        Les took a few slow, menacing steps towards him. She smiled softly, letting him know with images into his mind, the way that he would die. When she was directly in front of him, she bent over and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt. She pulled him up with great ease. "You underestimate." She said reproachfully. "You should be more careful with who you intend to rape." She smiled thoughtfully, her eyes never leaving his. "But then again, you don't need this advice anymore, do you?" Paul's eyes were wide, this time in fear. "This is my revenge for all those innocent women." She whispered.

        Paul made one last mindless attempt at getting away. He swung his left fist towards her face, but Les caught it with her free hand. His eyes watered in fear. Pulling him to her, clamping his lips shut with her own, she squeezed his fist. He moaned in pain, his eyes rolled behind his head as she made mince out of his bones with her small hand. The bones were completely broken. Holding his broken fist in her own, the blood seeping through her fingers, she sunk her fangs carelessly into his neck. He cried out and thrashed violently.

        Once her fangs sunk into his vein, the blood gushed into her mouth. With a moan, she took the first big swallow. She wrapped both arms around his shivering body. Lost in her passion for the blood, pulling at the delicious fount that was his sacrifice to her more vigorously, she squeezed him, crushing the bones in his waist and shoulders. Paul was now too weak to cry out or to even feel the pain. She let him go just as his heart stopped beating. He crumpled to the floor, a mass of broken bones, and his eyes staring blankly in death, his skin white and lifeless.

        Les stared down at him in the ecstasy that a vampire feels as blood works its way through the body when it drinks blood. Her eyes were beginning to look more focused. When the ecstatic feeling subsided, she kneeled beside his body and studied it coldly, no thoughts were discernible. "Time to get rid of you, little man." She whispered with a sigh. Grabbing the body by the belt around the waist, she dragged it easily to the window. She opened it and looked out at the alleyway below; there was no one there. Climbing out the window, she smiled, and willed herself to the air, the body hanging loosely from her hand.

        Greenland was a very beautiful land, though it was not at all green. It was mostly all white snow. Greenland, a place where half of the year, fall and winter, when the North Pole faced away from the sun only night reigned and where when Spring and Summer came, the sun would never cease to shine. A beautiful place for beautiful people, and things.

        Scarlette was very beautiful herself, with a profile so perfect, and her nose so straight and not so long. Her lips were full and they always glistened as if they were wet, except when she needed to feed. She was slim, graceful, and very tall. Her facial expressions were what attracted most of her victims, so expressive and lovely. Her eyebrows were not too thick, and one always arched or bowed, depending on her moods.

        She was presently thinking of the time sixty-eight years before when all vampires' lives were changed forever. When all the senseless deaths of humans and vampires alike were happening around her. Although she had moved on and out of there, the memories still haunted her. At times like this, when she was alone, she would find herself about that fateful night. The night that she tried to forget, but found that she couldn't... wouldn't...

        She found herself thinking of Leslie, her deep love for her still vivid in her heart. The way Leslie made love to her, the way their eyes had met. Blue against brown. When Lea had told her Les was dead, Scarlette cried in despair, allowing neither Mariana nor Lea to comfort her. When Les was alive, she'd still had hopes that Leslie would see what she was doing, would start thinking sanely. At times, Scarlette would see the wonder, the flicker of doubt and disbelief at what she was doing in Les' eyes. And that's why she never left her.

        Sixty-eight years had passed and the pain was still there for Scarlette... She hadn't changed at all; she was still the sweet, conscientious, caring and loving Scarlette. The same sensitive, generous Scarlette. Tears formed in her eyes and left red tracks on her cheeks. This would happen every time she sat under this tree and thought; and it was as if she enjoyed the torture of memories, because she would return almost every night.

        She looked up when someone stood next to her. She smiled shakily and motioned for Lea to sit down. Lea obeyed and looked out at the image reflecting off the half-frozen lake, a broken up moon. The fields around the lake were white; it had snowed vigorously the previous evening. They were sitting on a spot under the tree that had been spared by the snow. Both were silent for a while.

        Lea's bright green eyes shone as she stared at the lake. She had just been in Nuuk, Greenland's capital, feeding. She had been on her way back to Emmanuel's home when she spotted Scarlette brooding under the large tree. Her short, curly blonde hair was bouncing with the wind; it seemed to be moving on it's own. She turned her eyes and looked at Scarlette, studying her for a few seconds. "Why are you so sad?" She asked slowly, although she already knew the answer.

        Scarlette looked at her and smiled, asking in return: "Why won't you ever leave Greenland?"

        Both of them laughed softly. Lea put her arm around Scarlette's shoulders and pulled her close. "You are still hurting for Leslie." She said matter-of-factly. The anger that she had against Les had disappeared when she decided to move on with her existence. She never hated her, even though Les killed her parents, even though she did want to kill Les at one point. And when she pushed her into the bronze unicorn's horn, she had regretted it deeply. She usually ignored everyone's depression, though she did always try to cheer him or her from time to time. And when it didn't work, she would always leave to the city, staying there for days. Upon return, she would go to Lisa and talk of what she'd seen or done.

        Scarlette would go on for days without feeding at all, and when the time would come in which she couldn't hold any longer, the kill would be ferocious and merciless. Poor, the first human that would pass by her hungry way. "You know me well, my friend." She replied calmly. Her eyes were close to clouding over with the fierce hunger of a vampire. Tonight was not one of those nights in which she wanted to torture herself, she wanted to feed. Unlike Lea, she'd grown tired of feeding only of Greenland people, so she always fed in another country. "Come with me to Paris." She said to Lea, already knowing the answer to that.

        Lea shook her head. "I'm not going anywhere." She said softly, as she did every time Scarlette asked to go along somewhere outside of Greenland.

        Scarlette laughed, Lea seemed so afraid of the world out there. Scarlette said: "I'm going home to get dressed for the kill. It shall be Paris tonight."

        "How long will you be gone this time?" Lea asked. Usually, Scarlette would disappear for days, even weeks sometimes.

        Scarlette shrugged. "I don't know." She answered, she never knew.

        Wrapping her arm around her shoulders again, Lea pulled Scarlette in the direction of the house, which was quite a few yards away from the lake.

EMANUEL covered Lisa's much smaller hand with his own. Her looked at her with tender hazel eyes. Lisa was looking down at the table, her gray eyes so sad. Her hair was picked up in a long ponytail, revealing her soft feminine features. She felt Emmanuel's hand over hers, but she didn't acknowledge it.

        He sighed sadly and sat back on his chair, studying her. "Lisa," He finally said. "You have to lighten up, you know Lucy would have never wanted you to be this way." He was trying to get through to her, to cheer her up for Lea's sake.

        She looked up from the table and into his eyes. For the past sixty-eight years, she still hadn't been able to forget Lucy, the love they shared, nor the way she died. The love she and Lea shared wasn't the same as the two thousand-year love she and Lucy had. Lisa knew Lea loved her dearly, and that she would do anything for her depression to go away. But Lisa felt it would take longer than sixty-eight years for her to emotionally move on.

        "How long do you think it's going to take you, another two thousand years without her?" Emanuel demanded, having read Lisa's thoughts. "Lea is on the verge of leaving you, Lisa. She already leaves for days. Soon, it will be weeks, months, and even years. And maybe one day she won't come back... Is that what you want?"

        Lisa's eyes watered with the red tears. If Lea left her, she wouldn't know what to do. She knew that if she continued the way she was, Lea would eventually fall in love with some human or other vampire, and knowing that Lisa hadn't stopped mourning for Lucy, would leave and possibly never return to her. And it hurt Lisa to think that it could happen that way. She took a deep breath, holding back the tears.

        Emanuel could see and feel the turmoil going on inside her. Could feel her pain, the love that she felt for Lea. "Then why don't you try? Why do you linger on that memory?" When he saw Lisa frown, he said: "Lisa, I'm not telling you to forget her, surely as hell I can't. Remember her when she was alive, not dead, not the way she ceased to exist, but existing. Keep those sweet memories with you, but don't let Lea go."

        Lisa nodded. "I need time to think." She said, her voice hoarse from the emotion.

        Emanuel smiled reassuringly, patting her hand softly. "I'll return in a few hours, I have to feed." He said, standing. He left her to think to herself.

        She asked for a room with either no windows, or a window that was in a place through which the sun would not come through. The room was on the third floor; it's only window was facing another building, on the south side, the buildings were only about two feet apart. Scarlette looked around and was satisfied. It was seven in the morning and the sun was out. Scarlette was feeling tired and she decided to go slumber. Crawling under the bed, she lay on her back her back and instantly felt the stiffness of vampire sleep.

        She woke about two hours after the sun went down. She wanted to see Paris streets, so she walked for hours on end. Parisians were beautiful people and she allowed her keen eyes to admire them. She went into a club and remained there for a few hours, allowing her psychic senses to detect a perfect victim.

LES strolled down a crowded street; a street, which despite of the late hours was full of people who were chattering in groups or walking towards their own personal destinations. Les had no destination; she wandered the streets aimlessly. She was thinking about her last few days in Paris. Before that, she'd been in London, for almost two weeks. And before that, she'd been in Rome, for almost a year. And on and on...

        She never really stayed in one place, not for long anyway. For as long as she could remember, she'd been traveling incessantly. Always, she'd encounter others like her, but something always told her to not let presence be known. She didn't know the reason why. All she remembered was walking up one night, fifteen years before, not remember who or what she was.

        She found out her name when she found an old passport, an ID card and a credit card, the secret ID number was harder for her to find. After vigorous search throughout the apartment she found it written in a piece of paper on a desk. She had gone to check the card at a machine, after finding out through someone's minds how to do it. Millions of dollars were on the account. And since then, she'd been living off that money, buying houses or condos all over the world. She had left the United States, where she'd woken that night, and never returned.

        Les stood on a corner, her hands in her pockets, her body relaxed, and her shoulders slouched. Her hair was loose, her eyes hidden behind glasses. She leaned against a wall, staring down at her brown booted feet. She caught many eyes, eyes that admired her beauty or wondered who this mysterious beauty was. Les smiled to herself and continued standing there, not moving.

SCARLETTETETE was walking down the same street, feeling a very strange sensation run through her body. She hadn't put any shades on to cover her eyes, so she kept her lids low. Her hair was loose and part of it fell over her face. She walked slowly, her hands swinging on her sides. The feeling was getting stronger and Scarlette was puzzled. As she reached the same corner, something told her to look up. Lifting up her eyes, she gasped. Across the street, on the corner, stood Leslie or someone who looked exactly like her. Scarlette stared at her, her eyes tearful, her lips quivering.

        Feeling herself being watched by another vampire, Les looked up. Their eyes met; Les shook her head. She knew this vampire, but she didn't remember from where. Her heart swelled and tears formed in her eyes. She couldn't move as she watched the brown haired beautiful vampire walk up to her. The wonder and the deep emotion in the brown eyes scared her. And when the vampire whispered her name, she gasped.

        Les turned around to walk away quickly, but the other vampire was quick and grabbed her arm, forcing her to turn around. They looked deeply into each other's eyes and Les was very afraid. She suddenly pulled away from the vampire's grasp. She walked away quickly, leaving Scarlette staring after her. Remembering...

SHE walked into her apartment and closed the door behind herself. Sitting on the couch, she put her hands on each side of her head, as if trying to keep it in place. Who was that vampire? She didn't remember, she didn't know her. How does she know my name? I don't understand! She didn't understand; she had never talked to any other vampire, not even if they were much younger than she was and less powerful. She always kept to herself, hidden from all of them. And now this vampire knew her.

        Her mind was in such disarray of conflict, that she didn't even realize that Scarlette had stepped into the apartment, until she stood right in front of her. Scarlette was looking down at her with puzzled, but most loving eyes. She lifted her hand to touch her hair, but Les cringed away from her touch, climbing on top of the couch like a scared animal. She was afraid, very afraid. "Leslie," Scarlette whispered, her eyes were soft. "Don't you remember me?" She reached out to try to touch her again.

        Les crawled to the other side of the couch, shaking her head quickly, and tears in her eyes. "Go away!" She gasped, frightened now. Her whole body quivered and she hid her face between her knees, covering her head with her arms.

        This is Leslie? Afraid? Scarlette shook her head in confusion and disbelief. But it was Leslie! She could feel it. Her mind revealed nothing; she had no memory of what happened before. "Les," She whispered, touching her arched back softly. "You made me into this, don't you remember? You took me that night and gave me this existence. You made love to me, Leslie-"

        Les pulled away from her touch, crawling off the couch, struggling to her feet, ending up stumbling into a wall. "I didn't do anything!" She said shakily. "I don't know you, go away!" Her eyes were confused and unfocused. "Go away, please!"

        Scarlette shook her head no. "You did a lot of things, Leslie." She said, slowly walking towards her. "Don't you remember I loved you? The many times I told you? The war-" She tried to touch her again.

        Les cried out, she grabbed her head and doubled over into a ball. "Please, go." She sobbed from between her legs. "I don't remember, I didn't do anything! I don't know you! Please!" She was near hysterics now. "I didn't do anything!"

        Scarlette's eyes filled with tears and she turned away. She looked back one last time before walking out the door. She wiped at her tears with the back of her arm and walked for a few blocks. Not being able to hold it, she leaned against a wall and sobbed disconsolately, hiding her face behind an arm. She felt a human hand on her shoulder and shrugged it off. "Go away." She said thickly, in French.

        "But mademoiselle, are you okay?" The young man asked with true concern. "Is there anything you need?"

        Scarlette waved him off. "Leave, I beg of you!" She sobbed. She had the urge to take him right there, this nosy man, but she stopped herself. "I'm fine. Just go."

        The young man frowned, but obeyed, he didn't want her to cry more. He figured she'd calm down on her own if he left her alone. He walked away, glancing back from time to time. Scarlette was sobbing loudly, the pain was unbearable, but at the same time, she thought. Lea told her Les died. But why did she lie? What would she win by lying?

        Maybe Lea and Lisa did think that Les was dead. Lucy had died around that same moment, maybe both Lisa and Lea had left the auditorium without even checking if Les had really died. But how could she have survived her heart being destroyed? Unless it wasn't destroyed, obviously, maybe wounded enough to stop beating for a while? Scarlette stopped crying as she thought further, her eyes widened with questions running rampant in her mind.

        What about the memory part? Why didn't Leslie remember her? Could she have amnesia? Leslie didn't remember the war, or that she made Scarlette a vampire. But a vampire couldn't get amnesia, could it? Scarlette shook her head slowly. Then her eyes brightened. Lisa! She would have to ask Lisa. Les wouldn't go anywhere, it was almost day. Scarlette ran up the deserted street, taking to the air quickly, not caring if anyone saw her.

Book Two Continued in part VI

original fiction index | xena homepage | what's new | amazontrails.com