Red Moon

1 : Mission

_Paris_

A lean figure stood out in the gloom of the dirty streets. She walked all dressed in black, the hood of her long cloak hanging over her back. Illuminated only by the light of the torches, her long blond hair falling on her frail shoulders fascinated beggars and peasants in search of a penny to survive until spring.

Gentlemen bowed before her while paupers and harlots, recognizing the pure features of the alabaster-skinned woman, fled to find refuge in the depths of the capital.

The heels of her high leather boots stopped hitting the icy pavement, and she looked up as she stood before a simple wooden door. She knocked three times with the tips of her phalanges and waited.

A peephole revealed itself in the door, hidden by a simple wooden strip.

"The password?" croaked a voice from another age.

A slight smile played on her red lips, and she leaned forward to whisper:

"Ouvre cette putain de porte, orchidoclaste avant que je te fesse les joues. (Open the f*****g door, orchidoclast (medieval french insult: ball breaker) before I s***k your cheeks.)."

"Miss Emmanuelle, you know there's protocol," complained the voice from the other side of the door.

She laughed darkly and stood perfectly still.

A sigh was heard, and the door slowly opened with the metal hinges creaking.

Emmanuelle entered and stopped for a moment to shake her head at the guard. She put her fists on her hips and gave him a mocking smile, "Was it so hard to open?"

"I'm just obeying the master's orders," the deformed-featured doorman grumbled as he kept his eyes glued to the floor. His hunched back showed his deformity while the pox marked his skin.

Emmanuelle delicately approached her fingers and gently lifted the chin of the hideous creature who served as the building's janitor. "Why are you not yet one of us? By our blood, you could become much prettier."

The red rose at once to the cheeks of the porter, unaccustomed to such attentions of his masters' kin. "I do not wish for it, Miss Emmanuelle."

"But you're so hideous," the alabaster-skinned young woman cut in at once. Her red-rimmed blue eyes took on a darker hue, and she came to place her face a few inches from his. "You are not stupid, though. You know my people, and I can give you beauty and eternity.

"I know that I am ugly in your eyes. But I was born mortal and wish to remain so. I know that I am hideous and do not care. The Lord made me so, and so I shall remain.

Emmanuelle curtly withdrew her fingers from under the doorman's chin and clicked her tongue in disgust as she began to walk again. "You worship your god and unashamedly serve monsters that his church despises. May your soul be of value to your maker when you stand before him."

She began to walk through a maze of corridors, opening doors and taking several stairs that led her into the depths of the belly of Paris.

Finally, she reached a gallery that led her into the catacombs, lit by the lights of candles placed on unknown skulls. The mournful music of a harpsichord was played, mixed with the muffled cries of the servants who had come to give their blood.

"Emmanuelle," called a male voice, soft and sophisticated. "Approach, then, child of my clan."

She rolled her eyes, annoyed by the pompous atmosphere of the place and the bows the humans made to her as she approached.

A servant pulled out a chair dressed in gold leaf, and she unceremoniously sat down.

"Why have you called me, Augustin?" she asked, holding out her black cloak to the servant. She lifted her chin and winced, seeing the vampire of legend before her. "Why have your eyes turned so red, Augustin?"

The vampire stood before a throne placed on a pile of skulls. This uncrowned king was dressed simply in black pants, leaving the nearly translucent skin of his muscular torso for his guests to see. His long wavy blond hair, proof of his kinship with Emmanuelle, fell gracefully down his back and was held back only by a red scarf.

He carelessly wiped his b****y forearms with a silk towel. Then, with feline grace, he went down the few steps separating him from his guest and came to support his hands on the end of the chair's armrests where Emmanuelle had taken place.

He laughed softly at the placid and unimpressed look she had before him. Then he leaned into her ear.

"Don't talk to the rascals, young Emmanuelle."

She puffed out her cheeks and made a loud pff as she released the air between her lips.

"You brought me all the way here to tell me that? And, what rascal are you talking about?"

"The doorman, my sweet Emmanuelle," the vampire replied graciously.

"He's a rascal, and you let him guard your door?" she scoffed.

"He guards my door because he's a rascal. There's no better sniffer dog to detect vermin than vermin themselves, my sweetheart."

Emmanuelle pretended to gag. Then, with a sweeping movement of her hand, she chased away the young man who had come to present her with his neck. " I already dined, thank you, "she indicated to him, a soft smile on her lips.

Augustine's eyes kept going from his offspring to the main course. When he had enough, he tucked one of Emmanuelle's long blonde locks behind her ear.

"You've always been fascinated by the food."

She glared at him and, in turn, placed a crazy lock behind her clan leader's ear. "They are alive and capable of reason and judgment, Augustin. Besides, I'm waiting to see the day you fully realize that."

"And this is the sad reason why you only feed on pigs?" he muttered with a frown.

They both fell silent, silently continuing to challenge each other with their eyes.

She did not see any interest in answering him. Besides, they had already had this conversation last century. "Why did you send for me, Augustin?"

Augustine took Emmanuelle's hand and pulled her to him. Then he placed his hand on her arm, and they began to walk through the catacombs.

"We have received a message."

"Very good. And, what does this have to do with me?" she interrupted at once.

"The Council is asking us to guard a human," he announced casually.

Emmanuelle immediately stopped walking and looked up at her clan leader. "A human?"

"An unborn human," sighed Augustine as he, in turn, turned his head toward her.

Emmanuelle looked around, then laughed.

"I heard your request. I've heard your request, but before I do, can you confirm that you haven't drunk the blood of a d**g addict?"

Augustine laughed and nodded.

"The order came from the Council, my sweet. So, against all odds, you are the best choice to serve as the child's guardian when her soul enters the cycle of reincarnations. Your lack of appetite has always worried me deeply, and it now seems you were born to serve this cause."

Emmanuelle blinked rapidly before swallowing her saliva loudly.

"Are you telling me that I have your permission to maintain a friendship with a human? That I have the right to live among them?"

Augustine simply replied with a smile.

Emmanuelle jumped on his neck and let herself be carried by him. Then she grabbed his face and began to place many kisses on his cheeks.

"I promise you that I will do a good job. I will make you proud! Ohlala!"

Augustine continued to walk, keeping her on his arm as she listed the things she would need.

"Do we know where the child will be born?"

"Absolutely, my sweet. However, we don't know when yet, and it may be today or a century from now. Time is so unimportant," murmured Augustine.

"Why do I have the foul sensation that you are sulking at my joy?" she complained.

Augustine stopped moving, like a marble statue, and sighed.

"For here I am again, alone for a few more decades at best and a hundred years at worst. You are the last child born of my blood, and I made it my duty to raise you jealously when your parents chose to sink into the stone sleep. Your quest bodes nothing but loneliness for me."

"You can come and visit us. Why do you have to be so tragic every time?" scoffed Emmanuelle, rolling her eyes.

"You are still young, sweet Emmanuelle. When you've lived through the ages as I have, you'll soon realize how essential a family is. And, I will not risk mixing with men. I have, alas, little of your mastery nor your control. I must go away so that you can learn to live among the cattle without the risk of influencing you," he observed.

Emmanuelle placed a hand against Augustine's cheek and caressed the red-rimmed eye of the vampire leader with the pad of her thumb.

"You're trying to change," she remarked with a big smile.

"I'm trying, my sweet. I'm trying, but it's not easy when I've always quenched my thirst whenever it was felt. Unlike you, I can't stand the hunger that burns my insides."

At last, he laid her down on the floor, then opened a door leading into a large hall with many trunks.

"I have taken the liberty of having your things packed. Leave this evening before the desire to keep you close to me again overcomes me."

Emmanuelle had to stand on tiptoe to kiss the vampire's cheek.

"I will write to you," she promised him.

"And I will wait for your news to reach me every night," he replied, bowing.