Disclaimers

See Part I.

MARIANA looked up from the thick book she was reading, at Lisa, who had just walked into the library. She smiled and asked her to sit with her. Lisa smiled and sat down on the antique chair adjacent to the one Mariana was using. After a few seconds, she moved forward and looked at the book. "Ah, The Well Of Loneliness, by Radclyffe Hall." She said softly, sitting back on the chair. "A powerful novel, isn't it?"

        Mariana nodded, closing the book on her lap. Before she had become a vampire, she had been a voracious reader, addicted to knowledge. Now, she could not get enough. Books were her life; she read books in all languages of the world. It intrigued her immensely that some books were the same stories, and that they sounded so different in the different languages.

        With the permission of Emanuel, she had made his library her book collection center. Bringing books in from different countries was her favorite hobby. When hunting, she never stayed away for long, bringing books back from the houses of victims of variant nationalities. She even had a collection of bibles from most religions. For years, she'd been searching for the rest. Often, Lisa would come in and have long conversations with her. Always, she would find Mariana's bright green eyes locked on a book.

        "Can you talk?" Lisa asked, smiling.

        "Of course." Mariana said warmly, as always. She would always put whatever she was doing to a stop to lend Lisa advice and to listen to her. "What's going on?"

        Lisa looked down at her slim hands, which were folded on her lap, and frowned thoughtfully. "Do you think Lea could ever leave me?" She finally asked. "I mean, you should know. She veils her thoughts from me, and I don't want to force my self upon her, even though I could. And you are her best friend after all." Her eyes were boring deeply into Mariana's. Lisa's eyes were sad and pleading. She wanted to know if she was risking loosing Lea. At times, she felt foolish, because she was more than two thousand years old and her she was, asking a sixty-eight-year-old vampire fledging for advice. Mariana would laugh when those feelings came into Lisa's mind, often reminding her that the young ones more than often gave the best advice.

        Mariana thought about certain conversations she'd had with Lea, who seemed like a child locked in a cage. Lea would often run into the library, crazy with some sort of excitement over something courageous or crazy she had done out there in the woods, or in the city. She would always carry back something for Mariana, a book she knew Mariana might not have yet. Mariana came out of her memories and said: "Lea is still deeply in love with you." She was sure of that; Lea always mentioned it when they talked.

        Lisa sighed with relief, smiling. "Emanuel says that if I don't come out of my mourning over Lucy, Lea might leave me forever." She said, sounding like a child, searching for assurance.

        "He's right, you know." Mariana said bluntly. Lisa stared at her with shocked eyes. "Lisa, the love you feel for Lea should be enough to get you out of the depression you're in right now." Mariana said, her eyes boring deeply into Lisa's. She sat forward, covering Lisa's hands with her own. "Never worry about Lea's feelings for you. Worry about her leaving you, because if she ever doubts your love, I assure you she'll leave, even though she loves you more than herself."

        Lisa nodded, understanding very well what Mariana said and making a decision. She opened her mouth to reply, but Scarlette stormed into the library. Lisa stood up and stared at her. "What's the matter?" She demanded.

        Scarlette's hair was disheveled and wild. Her brown eyes were tearful and questioning. Her white T-shirt was soiled with her blood tears. "You said Les was dead!" She whispered hoarsely, both Mariana and Lisa knew she'd been crying. She didn't say those words as an accusation, they more like a question. "She's in Paris, she's not dead!"

        "What!" Mariana exclaimed. "What are you talking about?" She stood up from the chair, ignoring the book that fell from her lap.

        Scarlette began pacing the room back and forth, looking down intently at the palm of her hand. "I was walking down a street, and I felt a vampire's presence. When I looked up, I saw Leslie." Her eyes lifted to her shocked friends. "I swear it was Leslie!"

        Lisa went into Scarlette's mind and found the memory. Still, she could have imagined it; imagined seeing Les, imagined scaring her off. Maybe she'd seen a redhead vampire and confused them. But the face, it was Les' face. "Les is dead." She said firmly, more to herself than to Scarlette.

        Scarlette shook her head stubbornly. "It was Les." She insisted frantically. "Only..." She hesitated. "She didn't remember me, or the war-"

        "You see," Lisa interrupted her, not hearing her words. "Lea pushed Les upon the unicorn's horn. Her heart wasn't beating." She needed this as reassurance more to herself than to Scarlette. "She didn't even know what you were talking about. You made a mistake."

        Scarlette shook her head vehemently. "Can a vampire get amnesia?" She asked, her eyes wild. When Lisa didn't answer, she demanded: "Can it?" She was almost screaming.

        "Scarlette," Mariana said tensely, putting her hand up to her ears. "You are getting loud! Now, what makes you think that this was Les?" She asked calmly, though her insides weren't as calm as her voice sounded.

        "I don't think, I know it was Les." She replied calmly.

        Lisa was frowning, thinking. It was she who now paced, pressing her palm against her forehead. A vampire couldn't really get amnesia, but in her lifetime, she'd encountered quite an amount of vampires that didn't remember anything about their lives. Sometimes, they had recovered, but sometimes a few remained in that state of being. Those vampires that remembered often said that they woke up one day and didn't know who they were or where they were from. They lost their memories usually because of guilt of something they'd seen or done. Because of guilt... Guilt!

        But how did that explain Les still being alive? Les' heart had not been beating when she was helping Lea heal. Then again, her heart might have been incapacitated for only a while, then later on regenerated and started again; meaning that it pumped whatever blood there was left in her veins. It had happened before too: The heart of a vampire to be somehow incapacitated for a while- usually when a human caught it in deep slumber and attempted to push a stake through the heart, - a few hours perhaps.

        Maybe that's what happened to Leslie; maybe her heart hadn't been destroyed. Perhaps only a small vital part of her heart had been hurt, crippling it. Probably a little of the magic healing blood helped it heal. Then Les had seen the disaster, and then death. Realized the magnitude of her malice. Maybe felt guilt, guilt so strong that her brain may have wanted to forget, may have wanted not to remember... Guilt, that was it.

        Lisa realized she was thinking in circles. Her mind was in such turmoil, that she didn't realize Lea and Emanuel had walked in, or that the four of them were reading her mind, hearing all the arguments she was having with herself. Finally, she looked up at all of them; her eyes were glassy and distraught. "Scarlette, tell me everything again." She pleaded.

        She stood thinking for a few long moments, remembering the red tears running down Scarlette's cheeks. She jumped with a start as the door swung open by itself and Scarlette walked in a few seconds later, followed by four more vampires. They all stared at her in shock, tried to see if there was possibly any flicker of recognition in her mind, but there was none. She stared back at them with blank, unrecognizing baby blue eyes. The same eyes that had once looked upon them with coldness and pure hate.

        Lisa moved past Scarlette and stood directly in front of Les, who moved back with tangible fear, her blue eyes wide. Lisa didn't feel hate, or anger, towards her anymore, she felt pity. What she saw was innocence, ignorance of the painful impact and loss her birth into the vampire world had made. Lisa reached up to touch her face, but Les misunderstood and bent low in a crouch low, once again hiding her head under her arms. She instinctively knew Lisa to be a very old vampire, and she could feel the immense power she exerted.

        Lisa frowned, kneeling next to her. Les was shivering violently, waiting for the worst to happen. But she felt Lisa's hand on her back, a soft reassurance. Reluctantly, she lifted her head, staring at Lisa curiously. She looked at the others too; at the red-haired vampire, who was so old. At the blonde, curly-haired and seemingly innocent vampire, who was staring back at her with such wonder in her eyes. Les caught images from her mind, a memory: she saw herself being pushed backwards into a bronze unicorn horn, both of them wounded by it, caught together in the grips of death.

        Shaking her head, Les looked at the red-haired female vampire, which was staring at her with such shock; Les caught images from her also: In bed together with this one, exchange of blood, the night of Les' making. So this was her maker, her vampire mother! And then the violence of Les taking from her, trying to end her existence; Les taking Mariana's parents, overpowering her, taking from her too, and then taking from her parents again, killing them. She looked away, her heart aching with guilt. But she didn't remember doing all of that! She didn't remember having hung from a bronze unicorn horn with Lea, nor having caused the war.

        And then she slowly turned her head to Scarlette, who stared at her with such sweetness and longing... Scarlette's own memories were free: Les grabbing her from behind, taking her through the air into the forest, giving her the initiating bites, making love to her passionately all those times, the deep love Scarlette felt for her.

        Lisa had been watching her closely, reading her mind carefully, to see if this was all a pretense. Leslie didn't remember a thing beyond the past fifteen years. She hadn't had contact with any other vampire until Scarlette recognized her and attempted to talk. Les was very different now, Lisa realized, than the way she had been sixty-eight years before. This deliverer of death and pain was now a frightened, lonely young vampire. Lisa realized she had just put a way a small part of her hang-ups.

        Les' paling blue eyes were sad and confused. She looked at Lisa, lips trembling, shaking her head slowly. "I... don't... remember." She began to sob, covering her face with her hands.

        Scarlette felt the surge of a protective feeling. She kneeled on Les' other side and pulled her into her arms. Les went into her arms willingly, burying her face at the hollow between her shoulder and her neck. Scarlette looked at Lisa, silently pleading for her not to hurt Leslie. "I love her." She whispered, with her tearful eyes. She ran her hand smoothly up and down Les' back.

        Lisa smiled reassuringly. "It's not me you should worry about," She said softly. "Worry about those out there who want her dead. There are a lot of vampires out there who- if they ever had wind that Les still lives- would want to avenge Lucy's death; to tear Les to pieces." Her eyes were fastened onto Mariana, who stared at Les and Scarlette quietly, without expression.

        Scarlette tensed, she stared at Lisa. "And... and you don't want to?"

        Lisa shook her head. "No need," She said quietly, shrugging. "Won't bring Lucy back." She stood up and looked at the rest. "Les has been lucky all these years to not have been detected by others. Probably because her mind doesn't have the thoughts as it did back then." She paused thoughtfully. "All she really knows about herself is her name."

        Mariana sat on the couch, now over her first shock, glaring openly at Les, who now stared at them all with doubt. "What if she's pretending?" She demanded coldly, looking into Les' eyes. Her own eyes were a bright and feral green.

        Les cowered with whimper under her icy stare, deeper into Scarlette's arms. She whimpered incoherently, her body shook with fear, her arms tightening around Scarlette's waist. Her eyes were locked onto Lisa's, as if silently begging her to protect her from the angry one.

        Lisa smiled softy, reassuring her safety with her eyes. Glancing at Mariana, she said: "You should be able to tell, more than we can, that there's not even a trace of the war loving vampire in her." She sat down also, crossing her legs gracefully. The long, loose brown skirt she wore fanned about her and on her legs. "You are her vampire mother after-all." She pointed out.

        Mariana scowled. "I've never made another like us." She said coldly, crossing her arms to refuse any approach. "I refuse to acknowledge any involvement with her birth."

        Lisa stared at her for a few seconds, her eyes and face devoid of emotion. "Fine," She finally said; her voice was just as devoid of any emotion. "Do as you may." Glancing at Emanuel, she asked: "Would you mind if we bring her along with us?"

        Emanuel grinned, bowing. "No." He replied. "We will do as you wish." He brushed his hair back from his forehead, his fingers slipping through the soft strands. He looked at Lea, who had been quietly watching them all. She returned his glance nonchalantly, shrugging, then nodding her assent.

        "Okay," Lisa said, motioning for Scarlette and Les to stand. "Everyone, and I mean everyone," She glanced at Mariana. "We're going back to Greenland. Keep your minds on something other than what is at hand." He eyes went to everyone in front of her, and she stood. "Understood?" She asked.

        Everyone nodded, even Mariana, who took longer to answer and nodded slowly and angrily. "Good." Lisa said, smiling her disarmingly tender smile. She asked Les: "Is there anything that you wish to bring?"

        Les nodded, pulling away from Les and going into the bedroom. She returned a few seconds later with a beautiful porcelain doll in her arms. The doll's violet blue eyes painted perfectly on its face called everyone's attention. It's nose and pink lips were drawn perfectly also, the beautiful auburn waves attached perfectly to the head was soft. Everyone stared at the doll with emotion. Les noticed, and looked down at it also, then back up at them. "I saw it in Italy," She explained quietly, shyly. "I felt inexplicably drawn to it, I had to have it... Why do you all stare at it so much?" She asked, her eyes going to each one of them.

        Lea spoke softly, answering for them: "She reminds us of our long dead leader. She died in the war of the vampires, sixty-eight years ago." Her eyes were thoughtful and sad, as if she were remembering long ago times; Les couldn't see into her mind, it was already blocked, as Lisa had instructed.

        Les repeated the words: "The war of the vampires." Something else I am to blame for, something I was the cause of. She thought, her eyes anxious and hurt.

        The others looked at one another, except Mariana, who still stared at Les coldly and full of distrust. Les sighed; looking resigned to the promise of Mariana's close scrutiny. Lisa moved forward, saying: "Let's go, now." She put her arm around Les' shoulders and pulled her to the door. Les went willingly, she seemed to have a trust for Lisa.

        Les' eyes reluctantly moved away from the bed, and she looked around the rest of the room. A smile played across her lips as she studied the bedside tables, also made of mahogany. The dresser was a beautiful shiny piece of work; its mirror was framed with carved mahogany and it was very large.

        There were paintings hanging from the wall. From works by Michelangelo to works by contemporary artists. Her keen eyes told her that the paintings were originals. She'd read a serious amount of books, many on paintings. From gathered information, she knew many of those works of art had been reported missing many, many years before.

        Her mind and eyes returned to the mahogany materials. She studied them all again, realizing that they couldn't have been made by human hands. They were too perfect; they were done by the same vampire. She wondered whom. Scarlette answered the silent question: "Emanuel made them."

        Les stared at her, surprised. "Really?" She asked, not really asking for an answer. She smiled as she allowed her eyes to thrive in the sight of Scarlette. Scarlette's brown eyes were soft as they looked back at Les, with that tenderness that overtook them every time they were upon her. Her full lips were curved in a soft smile, lips that looked as if they'd feel so soft if kissed. Her brown hair fell around her beautiful face in long, soft curls. She was tall, almost a full head taller than Les, but her every movement held grace and sensuality. A flash of pride, along with a flash of desire, coursed through Les as she once again realized that she'd made this beauty.

        Scarlette read every single thought, desire coursing through her own being. She longed to hold her in her arms, to feel the small body enclosed in her embrace. To feel the tender lips against her own, the tender skin under her touch... They moved towards each other, looking into each other's eyes as they stood only two inches apart. Scarlette lifted her hand up to touch Les' cheek, sighing when she felt the pliant softness under her fingers. Les closed her eyes, her lips parted.

        There were of the same vampire age, made on the same night, these two; after Les had left Mariana, having run across Scarlette and instantly wanting her, not hesitating to take her.

        Les reached out and grabbed Scarlette by the waist, pulling her to herself. They both moaned when their lips, their tongues, softly met. Cradling Les' head in her hands, Scarlette pulled her lips away slowly. Their eyes met, and Scarlette whispered hoarsely: "I never thought I'd ever hold you in my arms again, I thought I'd spend eternity without seeing your beautiful eyes, without feeling you again." Her eyes were full of tears.

        Les, despite the memory loss, felt every word touch her heart. She loved this vampire, knew so from the first time she saw her in that Paris street, that's why she'd been so afraid. She felt her deep in heart as if she were a knife. She pulled her to the bed, slowly opening her shirt. Scarlette went willingly, unbuckling Les' pants quickly. Soon, they were two perfect, naked bodies pressed together in a tight embrace. Their lips were locked together, their tongues touching softly, slowly.

        Les pushed Scarlette onto the bed, lying on top of her. 'I know this body!' She thought to herself as she allowed her weight to rest on Scarlette, pressing her breasts against Scarlette's. I love this body! She moaned softly when Scarlette opened her legs and wrapped them around her waist, pulling her tightly against her. Burying her face into her lover's neck, she pushed against her, wanting to loose herself inside her.

        A ripple of sensation went through Scarlette; she groaned, arching up against Les' writhing body. "Leslie," She whispered over and over again into Les' ear. The wetness between her legs was by now too intense, she need to be touched. She knew Les was wet also, she felt it against her own wetness. She was engorged all over; her body ached like only a vampire's body could ache, almost hurt, while it was in the heat of passion. She felt Les' soft kisses on her shoulders, on her chest, on her breasts. She grabbed Les' hair as she felt her soft, gentle tongue encircle her nipple. "Oh, Les!" She cried out, guiding Les' hand to her wetness.

        She heard Les groan as she moaned, when the slim fingers entered her. They worked in and out of her, slowly and tenderly. This was like a tease; she moved her hips in an erratic rhythm, begging Les to go harder, deeper, and faster. Les complied, her fingers expertly please and quickly went in and out of her. Scarlette opened her legs wider as she cried out loudly; the heat of Les' tongue on her nipples and the softness of her strong fingers made her clench inside tighter and tighter, until she was ready to explode...

        Les felt the coming contractions and stopped her finger, pulling them out. Scarlette cried out again, this time from the intense pleasure of Les' tongue. Her tongue touched tentatively, exploring. Scarlette's thighs quivered vigorously, her back arched. She felt Les' hair on her thigh, tickling her. Suddenly, quickly, Les' arms were around each thigh, clamping her even tighter against her hungry mouth, her mouth sure, her tongue taking control. The blood-tainted juice was so sweet and thick inside Les' mouth; she gently suckled on the hardened flesh.

        If it weren't for Les' arms holding her down, Scarlette's buckling body would have been flying off the bed. She was panting, her breathing ragged. She felt herself tightening around Les' soft searching tongue, a hot electric sensation going through her body... Then suddenly, Scarlette was crying out in ecstasy, ecstasy only Les had ever given her.

        Les continued her soft torture, thirsting for more of beautifully hot, blood-tasting fount of passion Scarlette fed her. And again, Scarlette cried out in ecstasy, pulling at Les' hair and arching her shivering body. Her hips thrust uncontrollably as she felt the pleasure run through her keen body, her arms, her legs, her head, everywhere along her body.

        She lay as spent a vampire could be afterwards, her shivering hands still in Les' mane, panting for breath. Her eyes were closed tightly; she was biting her lower lip. The blood trickled slowly and thickly down her chin, she didn't realize it. Les, whose head had been resting against Scarlette's quivering thigh moved up to fit her body to Scarlette's and licked the blood off her chin. She shivered when she tasted the sweet saltiness and felt it sparkle inside her, her hips moved in a languorous rhythm.

        Scarlette wrapped her legs around her waist again, moving up against her. She grabbed Les' neck in her hands and pulled it down to her mouth. Her fangs sank in through the flesh easily. The vampire blood, delicious as a vampire's blood always is, flowed into her mouth. Les was moaning, panting, quivering inside, and feeling orgasm come closer to her core, her wet center. She positioned herself so that she received pleasure as she gave. She pushed her hips hard against Scarlette. "Scarlette..." She whispered, moving faster.

        When Scarlette moved her mouth away from her to gasp and moan in orgasm, Les sunk her fangs into her soft shoulder. She felt a deep coiling together of her own passion, felt her center grow. And then ecstasy running through her body with such force that it nearly knocked her senseless. She shuddered uncontrollably for a long time. Finally, she relaxed, her arms weakening, and she lay on Scarlette, resting her head on her shoulder, burying her face into her neck.

LISA was sitting relaxed on the chair next to her bedroom window, staring out absently into the dark sky with the round plate of the shiny moon hanging. She picked up her bare legs and crossed them, fitting herself into the chair. The room was dark; she didn't bother with trivialities like turning on the light. She looked beautiful as she frowned, deep in thought. As if experimenting, she sunk her fangs into her lower lip, sucking the blood into her mouth as she pulled her fangs back out. Not three seconds passed before she felt the two small but deep wounds close back up, leaving the skin as flawless as before.

        She was wearing just a T-shirt, having discarded of everything else. She kept thinking of the events of the last few hours. She never even expected Les to be alive; but then again, she should've known better. Not that she wanted her dead; she didn't anymore. This wasn't the same Les from sixty-eight years before. The power hungry, uncaring fledgling vampire that caused the useless deaths of a whole town and city of humans and many vampires alike.

        Lisa sighed. She felt sorry for Les, because she knew nothing of the disaster she caused but what she saw in the painful memories of Lea, Scarlette, Emanuel, Mariana, and herself. And Lisa could feel the guilt Les felt as if she were feeling it herself. She figured that Les would probably recover her memory; but then again, she might not. Lisa knew and knew of vampires that never, in sometimes hundreds or thousands of years, recovered their memories. And many of these were vampires that had done some wrong or another; guilt could be a disease among the vampire race. Although she had never even been close to loosing her memory, she understood very well their pain and confusion.

        She was interrupted from her thoughts when Lea walked into the bedroom. Lea stood by the doorway, shyly, looking down at her feet. "Lisa, is it okay if I come in?" She asked sheepishly, her green eyes moving up to meet Lisa's gray across the dark room.

        Lisa smiled. "Of course, silly!" She scoffed. "It is your bedroom too, you know." Lea didn't move from where she stood, she seemed worried. Lisa felt the pang of tenderness that she felt when she saw Lea, the love. "Come here, dear." Lea went to her slowly and Lisa gestured for her to kneel next to her; Lea did so and looked up at Lisa with worried eyes. Lisa studied her closely. The light of the moon sent a shaft of light through the window, lighting the room a little bit. The small amount of white light reflected off Lea's hair and skin, giving her hair a white gold glow and her skin a paler tone. Their eyes met and Lisa lifted her hand to touch Lea's cheek. "What's wrong?" She asked softly, she found she couldn't read Lea's mind.

        Lea put her hand over Lisa's, closing her eyes and squeezing it gently. "I love you, Lisa." She whispered softly.

        That was when Lisa saw what haunted Lea's mind. She saw the insecurity and the pain, the confusion of not knowing the real way Lisa felt for her. Lisa's eyes watered, and she whispered shakily: "Oh, Lea, I love you too." She pulled Lea to herself and cradled her head against her chest; she felt Lea cry against her, shaking with unshed tears. "So much!"

        Lea heard the three words and tears of relief flooded her eyes. She cried in Lisa's arms for a while longer and then pulled back a little. She moved up to kiss her lips, slipping her tongue into Lisa's soft mouth. They kissed long and deeply, their hands beginning to caress and awaken desire. When Lea pulled back, Lisa followed her with her lips, but Lea pushed her back to her previous position. Lisa looked down at her with desire in her eyes and expression. She felt the cold moonlight on her crossed legs and saw on Lea's pale shoulders and hair.

        She watched as Lea touched her legs reverently and pushed them open. Lea looked at the soft, thin and delicate hair between Lisa's thighs. Her mouth watered as she studied the engorged clitoris visible between her lover's lips. Lea teased herself, and Lisa as well, watching the delicious fount coming from within Lisa. Moving forward, doing all she could to control herself, she kissed the taut youthful quivering inner thighs as if they were treasures to behold, and she felt they were.

        Lisa was already feeling the strong electricity that Lea's full lips would always make her feel. She was clutching the arm rests of the chair with fluttering hands, her teeth clenched together, eyes riveted on Lea's enraptured face. Wantonly, gasping, she watched as slowly went to her center, her mouth closer, her breath teasing the fine hair. And when the soft, velvety tongue touched her, she threw her head back and cried out loudly, gutturally in an instant orgasm. Her body shuddered as wave after wave of pleasure rocked her insides.

        The gentle stroking hadn't yet started, and when it did, Lisa quivered all over. The waves of from the first orgasm was still there, her body buckled with every tongue stroke. She looked down at Lea and her breathing quickened when she saw the soft full lips fastened on to her, felt the tongue caressing her in circles, up and down, side to side... A giant wave of ecstasy blurred all her senses expect one, wrenching deep, loud, and guttural cries from her throat. Heavenly and endless orgasms shook her body from inside, sending draughts of delicious blood-tasting juice into Lea's hungry mouth.

        Lisa could hardly breathe; she was gasping loudly, her eyes closed. Lea rested her head on Lisa's thigh, licking the soft wet lips, which were still quivering. She was enthralled with the delicious taste of vampire cum; the areas around her lips, including her chin, were drenched with the beautiful wetness. Lisa pulled her up to herself and gave a deep, sensuous kiss.

        Lea pulled Lisa up to her feet and held her very close. Their eyes met and Lisa knew she had to make love to her. She undressed Lea quickly and then made lay on the bed. Lea went willingly, wanting her touch as much as she wanted to taste her again. Lisa went to the window and closed the thick curtains, no light slipped through. She went to Lea and sat beside her on the bed.

        She made Lea open her legs for her, looking between them. Lea was as wet as she was, if not more. Lisa slipped a finger along the wetness, moaning as Lea moaned and arched. Lea moved her hips up against the soft finger; silently urging Lisa to go inside her. There was nothing more that Lisa wanted; she slipped one and then two fingers into the origin of the wetness. Lea's chest and stomach heaved with the effort to breathe, her throat emitted low sounds of pleasure.

        Lisa lay next to Lea, continuing the expertly quick and hard pleasing the even a vampire could hardly take. Lea was almost screaming in her passion, grabbing Lisa's smaller form into her arms. Their lips met and Lisa slipped another finger deeply inside her. "Oh!" Lea gasped, another cry slipped from her throat. "Lisa!" She screamed again as one orgasm after another shook her around Lisa's moving fingers.

        After what seemed like endless orgasms, they both lay in each other's arms, breathing and deeply as the deep vampire slumber began to take their bodies. Once again, a final breath left each pair of lungs as they lost conscience and fell into a dead sleep.

        She felt distrust towards Les. The memory of the way her parents were murdered that night was still very vivid in her mind. She still remembered her struggle to save them, her tears and sobs as she helplessly watched Les almost tear them to pieces. The way Lucy died, even though Mariana had only seen it enough Emanuel's memories, hurt her. She knew that if she hadn't made Les, the deaths of so many, especially Lucy's would have never happened.

        This knowledge increased her feelings of guilt and anger.

        Mariana thought it was all behind her, but when she saw Leslie, the memories came back as if it had all happened yesterday. What disturbed her most, was that Les had no memory of what she'd done. This Les only knew some of what she'd done from their memories. Leslie Anne Robilland was a completely different vampire than the one she was sixty-eight years before, Mariana realized with a deep frown.

        She sat up and pulled her hair back from her face. She passed her fingers along her forehead, her cheek, her eyes, her lips; something she did when she was in deep stress. Something Emanuel had done to her many a time on the first few years after the war, when the memories, the sorrow, and the anger had threatened to consume her. He had taught her how to do it to herself, chanting a strange ancient Greek mantra.

        Mariana found that it worked that it made her body loose it's tension and her anger and upset feeling would disappear. She took a deep breath, letting her hand fall from her face. She had the sudden urge to read one of her numerous books. She stood up from the bed and quickly slipped into a robe of intricate designs and colors. She walked out of the room barefoot, her mind only on the books waiting for her in the library.

LES woke almost an hour after Mariana. She found that Scarlette had left her side some time earlier. She felt a sudden emptiness without Scarlette by her side. She'd fallen asleep on her stomach, her hair fanned over her face. Scarlette had fallen asleep with her arm draped over Les' waist, her own body pressed comfortably close to Les'.

        For Les, who ever since she had woken up that night not remembering a thing of her past, this was the first time she had made love to and shared a bed with another vampire. Until Scarlette found her, she had never gone even close to another like her own. And now her heart loved this beautiful vampire that had just made beautiful and passionate love to her. The pleasant memory made her shiver.

        Sitting up, she looked around the room. Her vision was weak, her body felt slightly cold. She hadn't fed for almost two nights; the last time being a few hours before Scarlette found her. Her stomach was aching a little, the need for blood starting to manifest itself. She stood up from bed and began to get dressed. Going to the window, she listened out for possible victims. She thought she spotted someone over the snowy hills to the east of the house. She opened the window and climbed out, taking to the air and moving east.

        She didn't feel didn't feel Mariana watching her from the library window, having sensed her hunger; neither did she notice that Mariana followed her.

HER victim was down by a field, skinning a poor dog, hungry and desperate for food. His knife was shaped like a war knife; its thick handle was also a brass knuckle. It's eight inch long, two inch thick blade was once a shiny silver colored metal; but now, after having helped murder his wife of twenty years, his fifteen, ten, and seven year old sons, it was a rusty looking thing. In reality, it was still covered with the dried blood of his innocent family.

        The search for him was still vivid in Nuuk. His name was Alfred Vlasic, forty-eight years old, and an ex construction worker. His body was very built and ample, powerful and quick. His large hands had choked the life out of his youngest son, and then he had repeatedly stabbed him with the knife, as if choking him hadn't been enough. The excuse he had found for murdering his family: His wife threatened to leave him and to take their sons with her.

        His filthy brown hair was matted against his head; his face was half covered by his blue coat's tall collar from the biting cold. Alfred's light brown eyes were distraught as the knife blade sliced under the hairy skin of the stray dog. He didn't see or hear the cloud-eyed, hungry vampire landing in front of him with bare feet. Only when she had moved to stand not three feet away from him, did he see her feet and looked up at her pallid face.

        Les stared at him almost blankly, her eyes devoid of expression, the hunger already blurring her thoughts. Her fangs were pressed against her lower lip. "Hello," She said in the native Greenland tongue. "You must be so lonely."

        Alfred saw this girl's beauty and an instant wave of desire went through him. He looked at her from head to toe, and then did he realize that she was barefooted in the snow, nor was she wearing a coat. He found this so strange; there weren't many houses or barns around that he knew of. He had been camping for over a month since the murders. "Where's your house, little girl?" He asked as he stood up, gripping his knife tightly.

        He was a full foot taller than Les' five feet two inches; he was baffled that she didn't seem scared of his imposing figure, of the knife held tightly in his knife. His wife was sure as hell very afraid of him! He was still trying to figure out what gave her the guts to even tell him that she was leaving him. His mind returned to the matter at hand, his eyes studied Les. He figured her to be no more than seventeen years old, her face was flawless and almost baby-like; she'd just turned eighteen when she became a vampire.

        The more he studied her, the more he felt there was something eerie, inhuman, about her. The fear ran suddenly through his body like the blood in his veins. Her red hair seemed to float around her face on it's own; in the light of the moon, her baby-blue irises seemed to have no pigment. She moved slowly forward and he pointed, hand shaking, his knife at her. His breathing accelerated considerably, his body began to shake.

        Les threw her head back and laughed. Her mind was in such an uproar of hunger, that she didn't see him move forward and shove his knife into her stomach. With a groan, she looked back down at him, her eyes wide in anger. A low growl, a deep rumble, rose from her throat as she staggered from the intense pain. Looking intensely into his eyes, silently promising him a very painful death, she slowly pulled the bloody knife out. Then she smiled slowly, menacingly.

        Alfred cried out in fear and ran from her then. Her ran right into her as she was suddenly in front of him. She didn't even budge when he ran into her, but he bounced right off her, falling down onto his back with a loud thud. He turned onto his stomach and tried to crawl away from her. She walked after him with a smile on her face, loving the chase; she grabbed him by the back oh his neck and pulled him easily up, turning him with that one hand to face her. She draped the other arm under his arms and around his torso. He tried to fight her, but her bite soon paralyzed him.

        Without care, Les sunk her fangs into his dirty neck, breathing in deep and smelling his man smell. She moaned as the warm blood flooded thickly into her mouth. She allowed the delicious Scum blood to fill her mouth before taking a deep swallow. The salty, delicious liquid seemed to never stop flowing into her mouth. He groaned weakly against her. She squeezed the back of his head, breaking his skull before grinding his brain. It was minutes before he completely died, the blood still weakly flowing through his heart.

        She let him go as she felt the blood working through her, her eyes tightly closing, and her hands like claws at her sides. The far away noises were overwhelming; she willed them to go away. Some color returned to her skin, not much, since a vampire's skin would never loose it's paleness; no matter how much blood it fed.

        That's when she sensed Mariana close by. She looked around, all over the land surrounding her. Mariana was standing under and leaning against a tree; she was staring very intently at Les. Les stared back at her for a few seconds, and then she got down on her knees and began to dig a grave with her bare hands. Soon, the body was in the pit of the five-foot whole, all of his belongings and the dead dog with him. Les pushed the soil back into the pit and patted it until it looked as if nothing had changed. She looked back up in Mariana's direction.

        Mariana was still watching her, her arms crossed over her chest, her face blank of any expression. Les tried to read her thoughts, but a solid wall of resistance and hostility confronted her. A faint smile crossed Mariana's features, sort of like a challenge. Les shook her head and turned to walk away.

        Instantly, Mariana was in front of her, gazing intently into her eyes. Les had jumped back from the shock, then she recovered and stood on her two feet again. She realized Mariana was as she was, barefoot and wore no coat; she figured Mariana had seen her fly out to feed and followed her. She stared into Mariana's flaming green eyes, wondering what was going on in her mind.

        Mariana's fire-like red hair was picked up in a bun, her soft features revealed. Her forehead was high, with natural almost invisible lines across it as if she were in deep thought. Her cheekbones were high also and seemed to be those of a sculpture. She's beautiful, Les thought. Realizing Mariana heard her thoughts; she blushed and looked down at her feet.

        Mariana smiled softly. "You are afraid of me." She stated softly, coldly. "You were never afraid of me before, so why are you now? What changed everything?" She asked, her voice deadly soft.

        Les looked back up at her in renewed fear. "I don't remember the before," She answered, her voice shook. "I don't remember you, nor the war." Her eyes watered in frustration.

        Mariana's green eyes narrowed, her lips pursed. "I believe you." She said calmly. "But you still deserve to pay for it all, for my parents' deaths, for Lucy's, for all those other vampires and humans." Her face grew angrier and angrier as she spoke.

        Les looked down at her feet, feeling shame and guilt. "I'm sorry!" She croaked; her throat was tight with emotion.

        Mariana's eyes widened, her body tensed. "What!" She exclaimed, trembling. "You're sorry! And you think that's going to change everything?" She shoved Leslie with clenched fists, Les staggered backwards. "You think that'll bring them all back?" She walked towards her again and punched her in the face, Les' head snapped back; she didn't fight back, and she felt a trickle of blood run down her cheek from her eye. Mariana continued speaking, bitterly, as her fists landed upon Les with incredible force. "You think sorry will take away the pain? The only that would make it better would be your death!"

        Les was on the floor now, Mariana astride her, striking her, breaking her. She groaned and whimpered, trying to cover her face with her arms. She cried out: "Kill me, then! Take me from this misery!" She sobbed.

        Mariana paused, stared at her, and then slowly smiled. "That is what intend to do." She lifted her hand directly over Les' chest, ready to tear her chest and yank her heart out; that would surely bring her death. But suddenly, she felt a hand grab her hair, felt a vampire pull her back with all its incredible might. She cried out as she flew across the air and landed on her back twenty feet away and very strong immortal arms wrapped around her as she was sitting up, pinning her arms down at her sides.

        Mariana watched through angry eyes as Emanuel and Scarlette kneeled over Les, who was quickly loosing consciousness. She cried out as she tried to get loose from the too strong grasp. "Why do you defend her?" She demanded shrilly. "She, who destroyed all that we knew and loved! Why!" She saw Lisa come from somewhere to her right, her movements decisive and full of anger, watched her kneel in front of her and raise her fist slowly, as if to measure, saw her gray eyes flash with intense anger. Then suddenly, she felt the fist hit her face, her head snapping backwards, not having seen it move at all. She wondered at this as she instantly lost consciousness.

Book Two Continued in part VII

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