Angel's Messiah

1. The Hunger

1. The Hunger

After the turmoil of the last seven years — mortal years — Danny and I settled back into a familiar routine — patrolling, hunting, dancing, talking and s*x, not necessarily in that order. Some activities were undertaken more than others.

I was now almost at the stage where I could talk about having s*x with Danny as making love. I did call it that in front of him, but on the inside it still set my teeth on edge. Old habits die hard, and according to some I was a creature of habit — always returning to two things: s*x and violence.

We were dancing. Danny was slowly mastering the art of the tango. As he dipped me backwards — much lower than was usual for this dance — my hair lightly brushed the floor. I gave a sharp pull on his arm causing him to overbalance, and twisted so that instead of him landing on top of me, I landed on him. I had his hands pinned to the floor above his head, my nose almost touching his. My heart was beating rapidly and he knew what that meant.

“I don’t recall you teaching me that move,” he grinned. “Is that a new one?”

“I’m so hungry,” I said, writhing on his lap and playfully biting his neck, “in more ways than one.”

“You’re always hungry now,” he chuckled. “Increased appetite for increased activity?”

“Maybe,” I sat up and rubbed his chest suggestively. “Perhaps we should undertake a study to find out?”

My stomach rumbled and I pouted.

“Before or after you’ve eaten?” he asked.

I knew which we’d both prefer, yet s*x was no fun when your stomach made horrible noises protesting and complaining — what about me? Feed me.

“After,” I sighed. “I really need to eat.”

He smiled. “Go then, and call me if you need me.”

I hesitated, not wanting to leave him. The last time I had left him to hunt alone, he had died. He waved me away.

“Don’t worry, I’ll call you if I need you. Besides, we have little to fear from the angels now,” he chuckled. “And Michael will not summon us unless there’s something dire going on. I don’t know what you said to him — his feathers have been ruffled, though in truth he’s not really angry.”

I laughed. “I told him to back off, in my own way.”

I gave Danny a quick, yet passionate kiss before disappearing to the savannahs in Africa. I wanted to explore the underground tunnel I’d discovered previously.

The entrance I’d first come across was nothing more than a small hole in the ground, just big enough for a person to drop through or climb out of. Its size indicated that there weren’t any really big vamps around here, or at least none that used this entrance. The drop was only about three metres. Even as a mortal that wouldn’t have worried me too much, if I’d been careful, but getting back out would have. Now, as an immortal, a small leap and I could easily grasp the sides and haul myself out. Besides that, I had my fall-back position of simply transporting myself somewhere else.

The network seemed much smaller and less refined than Drake’s. None of the rooms had doors, for one thing. The dorm rooms didn’t have reasonably comfortable camp cots or beds — instead there were only coarsely-woven blankets on the floor and no pillows. The vamps that stayed here really roughed it, in my opinion. Maybe they didn’t feel the need for the trappings of modern civilisation. I wondered if there were cultural differences as well.

My stomach rumbled. The sound echoed down the corridor I walked along. Within moments eight vampires appeared from various rooms ahead of me, startled by a very mortal sound. Apparently I was the only immortal Danny had encountered whose stomach rumbled. They hissed in unison and charged at me.

These seemingly savage vampires had learned to function as a pack, without the need for verbal communication. Perhaps teamwork was required in order to survive in the plains of Africa, some of the harshest terrain on earth. Drake would be interested to know how they worked together — whether they only did so when there was a possible threat, or in response to a territorial invasion. He would have loved to see this, to see how they rushed me with little fear or trepidation when I clearly smelled different — not vampire, not mortal and not angel. Were they so sure of the pack? Was there some other base instinct that drove them on without thought?

It was odd that Drake was on my mind now, when I was hunting. I hadn’t given him much thought in the two and a half months since Danny had returned. In fact, I’d tried to bury all memory of him, and the memory of things I’d done with him. He was still one dagger short of the three daggers he had gifted to me, to kill the archangels Sariel, Raguel, Phanuel and Raphael. Two had been returned, and I’d promised him the last would return to him when I left this world. The dagger had its instructions — if I was gone from this plane of existence it would automatically return to him.

I turned my attention back to the vampires that were after my blood. The corridor was quite narrow. Two vamps, side by side, filled its width. That made my life a lot easier. Perhaps too easy. Where was the challenge in taking on two at a time?

The first two I grabbed by the throat — they didn’t even see my hands move. It was lightning fast. The next two clambered forward, trying to push past the ones I had in a death grip. I forced the ones I was holding by the throat to move to either side of me, giving my other attackers a fighting chance. Well, they would have thought they had a chance. My grip on the first two allowed me to kick out almost horizontally, crushing the windpipes of the next wave of assailants. They fell backwards onto the four vampires behind them. These vamps hadn’t expected me to fight back. They hadn’t thought that someone would be bold enough to challenge them in their own home. Then again, they’d never met me. They were probably used to easy victories.

The first two dropped to their knees, not in an attempt to shake me off — they knew there was no escape for them — but to make me an easier target for their fellow vamps. As a result I was pulled down to their level, but remained on my feet, in a crouch. I smiled at my attackers, goading them on.

There was little I feared in this life now, just as these vamps thought there was little for them to fear. The worst — Danny dying — had already happened to me. I’d survived, and by some miracle Danny had been returned to me, by none other than God Himself. Perhaps if I had not been as flexible as I was, and unable to transport away, if I had I not known any gymnastic moves, or trained with vampires and Master Rahab — Satan’s weapons master — I might have felt something akin to fear.

If God was on my side, as Danny seemed to think, I was as good as invincible, provided I didn’t cross the line — no mortal blood must pass my lips. With vampires tasting as sweet as honey, and my never having felt the urge, desire or curiosity to taste mortal blood, I didn’t think it would be an issue. I could afford to be a little arrogant around these vamps. It was nice to be omnipotent for a change.

Concentrate, Helena, the voice in my head said. Just because you’re good and God is on your side doesn’t mean you can’t get hurt.

Yeah, yeah, whatever, I thought back at it.

I hated that little voice of reason, always trying to tell me what to do. I hardly ever listened to it when I was mortal. Why should I listen to it now?

Remember you’re not really omnipotent. You have a reason to stay alive — Danny.

Okay, the voice had a point.

I kicked out sideways at the two vamps approaching me, short sharp kicks, directly to the groin — that had to hurt. They fell back, clutching whatever it was I’d happened to connect with. I didn’t care if it was a dirty tactic. They’d do whatever was in their power to kill me, so why shouldn’t I do the same.

“Listen guys, I’m not hungry enough for eight. How about half of you leave and the other half stay?”

They looked at me and hissed. Obviously they didn’t understand English and I didn’t know what language they spoke here. I hadn’t heard anything but hissing, so unless that was a new language, I wasn’t going to have any luck talking to them.

Another two approached more cautiously, half standing, half crouching, but well out of reach of my feet. I heard clicking noises and wondered if this was the way they communicated. If it was, what they were saying about me?

The last drops of blood from the two I had a hold on were absorbed into my body. Before the others could see that their companions were dead I stood up, dragging their limp corpses along with me, dangling them like puppets.

I saw something being passed to the front of the line — a spear. The silly buggers were going to try and skewer me while they thought I was still connected to the dead vamps. They’d seen how my fingers had melded into the necks of their friends.

When the vamp threw the spear I pulled the bodies in front of me as a shield, thrusting them forward to meet the spearhead. As I did so, I let go and transported to a new position, behind the enemy lines, grabbing the two at the rear by the back of their necks.

“Bye boys,” I yelled out, then left, into the lights.

I knew that being held by the back of the neck makes it hard to put up a good fight, yet I felt let down by their half-hearted efforts to even so much as kick me. Maybe the lights had freaked them out, or they were resigned to their fate. Either way, they offered little in the way of a challenge.

I let them go when they’d been drained. Their bodies disappeared, back to where they’d come from. I was sure the reappearance of the dead bodies would cause a bit of a stir.

“I can’t believe I’m still hungry,” I muttered.

I shook my head and returned to the underground tunnels. The remaining vamps were poking the dead bodies that had miraculously appeared out of thin air, trying to make sense of what had happened. I wrapped my arms around one and took him away, into the lights, careful to keep my hands on the coarse tunic he wore. I wanted to taste his blood and feel it running down the back of my throat. My lips touched the base of his neck, away from a vein, so it would be a slow death and I could enjoy it all the more.

I was sorely disappointed when his blood tasted off. It wasn’t poisoned or drugged — I would’ve known if it wasn’t pure — but it just didn’t taste right. It was quite horrid actually, a little on the vinegary side, if my taste buds were to be believed.

I’d only tasted one other vamp from this region in the traditional way, and she had been sweet, if slightly tart, but certainly not vinegary. Was it just a fluke he tasted off? Was it just a fluke she tasted okay, or did all males here taste funny? There was only one way to find out. I had to try a few more.

I rolled my eyes. “Okay, so I’ve still got a bit of room.”

I performed a quick snatch and grab for another male. He was just as vinegary as the previous one, so much so that I couldn’t finish him off. I had to detach — it wasn’t as hard as the first time I’d tried it. I dispatched him using Death, the blade Danny had given me years before to defend myself with. His body returned to the underground network while I held onto the head. I’d need to dispose of that separately. If I let it go and it returned to where the body was, they might know to reattach it.

I headed to the cavern in the abandoned mine that had been the resting place of many a vamp I’d killed over the years. A drop kick saw the head land in the water at the other end of the cavern. Danny and I believed the water was the reason behind the mine being abandoned.

My stomach started to feel queasy. The vampire’s blood wasn’t agreeing with me, which was a first. I’d call it a day and go back to the savannahs tomorrow, looking for a female. My stomach heaved and the muscles clenched. A pool of blood spewed forth. It was just the once, not like when I ate or drank something no longer compatible with my stomach. Maybe the evolution of the male vamps in Africa included new defence mechanisms.

As I produced a wet cloth to clean my face, along with a toothbrush and toothpaste to make my mouth taste minty fresh again, I thought about it some more. The first two vamps, both males, were fine, though I hadn’t fed off them the traditional way. My fingers didn’t have taste buds, after all. I hadn’t really paid much attention before, to where the blood went when my hands were involved, but it wasn’t my stomach. The blood entered my body directly via the blood stream, not the stomach. If these vamps had developed a new defensive mechanism that worked on taste, or by the blood being absorbed via the stomach, I would just have to use my hands.

More theories to test out. Tomorrow, not today.

I felt a bit better after I’d cleaned myself up, though the smell of the blood on the cavern floor made me want to retch again. My stomach rumbled.

“What are you, a sucker for punishment?” I mumbled.

I returned to the cottage, somewhat disturbed by my experience, and caught Danny practicing his dancing, of all things, in the ballroom, with someone he’d conjured up. As soon as he saw me she disappeared. I didn’t get a chance to see what she looked like — what Danny’s ideal dance partner looked like.

“You’re back early,” he said.

“Yeah, I decided I only wanted a quick snack. I really need to satisfy my other hunger,” I lied, quite convincingly I thought.

Danny rolled his eyes and chuckled. “And you say I’m bad.”

“I have seven years to catch up on, you know,” I laughed.

I pulled Danny closer to me by his shirt.

“You won’t be needing those,” I said, looking at his clothes.

Danny was standing in front of me naked, his clothes gone, courtesy of my dirty mind. Sometimes I thought he regretted gifting me his abilities, skills and knowledge before he’d died, all those years ago. I misused everything he gave me, for my own wicked pleasures. I had a hedonistic streak not even I’d been aware of, until I could do nearly anything I wanted to, with little or no consequence.

My hand automatically went to the scar near his hip, courtesy of Amy, a former love who had fallen with Satan. It was a constant reminder to me of how lucky I was to have him.

Danny began to undress me. He enjoyed taking off each item of clothing, revealing more of my skin with each piece. For him it was all part of the dance, an art form in itself. I indulged him by not wishing all of my clothing instantly gone, even when the need for out naked bodies to join as one was so great I thought it would consume me.

Always a hunger burned within me — for him, for blood and for violence.

“Am I a creature of habit, Danny?” I asked softly.

He unhooked my bra and let it slip to the floor, his hands caressing my back, making me shiver.

“We’re all creatures of habit,” he said. “We all fall into a comfortable routine, although occasionally,” his lips brushed my neck and I shivered again, “something comes along to shake that up.”

“Oh,” I said.

He continued to kiss my neck.

“Why?” he asked.

I ran my fingers through his hair, my heart beating faster now.

“No reason,” I murmured.

Drake’s words rang in my ears — you’re a creature of habit, Helena. You always return to what you know — s*x and violence.