Edited by Teresa Floyd; Lyrics by Phil Collins |
I can feel it coming in the air tonight. Something was wrong. Really wrong. She felt it when she entered Lacroix's office. Bad dreams and nightmares had been swirling in her mind. And then that...apparition. She shivered. She was afraid, a feeling unnatural to a vampire. So she had called Javier. He didn't question. Just said he'd be there as soon as he could. Which meant she could be waiting a minute or an hour. She began to pace.
Can you feel it coming in the air tonight? Even the arrival of LaCroix would be a comfort to her. If only someone would show up.
Well, if you told me you were drowning LaCroix. In spite of her fear she allowed a short, derisive laugh to escape her lips. The General was not known for his kindness. Nor did she suspect he would put up with the rantings of an infant vampire afraid of her own nightmares and visions. But she was not as afraid of LaCroix as she was of this feeling. So she waited.
Well, I was there and I saw what you did; She had arrived at the church, just before daybreak. Hoping to spend the day in her master's arms, but that mortal girl was there with him. Tracy. She had seen them embracing through the window, and had fled to the Raven, blood tears streaking down her face. She had no illusions that he was bound to her. But she was still bound to him, and it hurt to be reminded of his freedom. She hugged herself, trying to dispel the image from her mind.
And I can feel it coming in the air tonight. The sensation washed over her again. It was evil, with the smell of decay and rot. Old death. At one time, death would have been preferable to the endless nights of longing. Better than the love that she felt for Vachon, and the unslakeable hunger for it to be returned. But, this death was twisted and it was hunting. She had not wanted death that much.
Well, I remember, I remember, don't worry She jumped at the tiny sound of the click of the latch as someone tried to open the door. "Urs?" Vachon whispered "Are you okay?" Relief flooded her at the sound of his voice. She realized she must have locked the door behind her when she came in. When she opened it, he practically fell through it. The look of concern in his eyes brought a small, satisfied smile to her lips. He grabbed her by the upper arms, his face close to hers. "Are you all right?" he asked. "Oh, Javier..." she sobbed, pressing her face into his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and stroked her hair. "Urs..." he soothed. "What's wrong?" She stepped out of the circle of his arms, and began to pace again as she spoke, recounting the events of the night.
But I know the reason why you keep your silence up. "That's it...." She trailed off, sitting down on the couch. He looked at her thoughtfully. "Urs, I think you're overreacting..." he began. "I don't feel an 'evil presence'. She noticed the way his eyes darted around the room. He's lying. "Please, Vachon, stay with me...?" He shrugged, and settled next to her on the couch, gathering her into his arms, casually running his hands over her like a cherished possession. She remembered waking up in his arms that first night he had made her. She had been reclining against him in a similar fashion and she snuggled down deeper into him with the memory, breathing in the scent of him, mixed with the leather of his jacket. She never mentioned her dissatisfaction with the life he had given her more than once or twice in the last century, and then only when she felt the need to wound him. When the veil lifted from his eyes and the nakedness of his pain showed, it hurt her to see it there. To see him vulnerable. She had never been able to feel the satisfaction she sought through hurting him. She relaxed a little, drawing comfort from his presence, and reached up to stroke the side of his throat. She reveled in the silken feel of his skin under her fingers. It had been so long since she had tasted him. Since they had tasted each other. He sighed, stretching like a cat, and exposed his artery to her hungry lips. Gently she pushed her face into his neck and pierced him, drawing small sips of his existence into her. She forgot everything but him, and the experience of him in the sweetness of his blood and his recent memories. Oh! How he loved that mortal girl! The anguish of this knowledge, that he might not even realize it yet, overwhelmed her and her mind whispered good-bye to him with the last exquisite taste of his blood. As she withdrew from him, he pulled her closer, reaching into her jacket to cup one breast in his hand. He brushed her hair back from her face, and twining his hand in it, he exposed her throat. A gentle gesture, but a man's all the same. There was no fierceness in his powerful gulps, no urgency, just a pulling, like she was being sucked down into a vortex. It made her head swim and she never wanted it to stop. "Javier!" she cried out near the end. Like a mortal woman in the throes of passion. And it was over. She looked up into his beloved face. A century's worth of memories in his eyes and also a look of puzzlement. The wonder of a small child. "All this time?" he asked. "Forever... Javier." "I never knew." He sounded hurt. "You weren't meant to." "Urs..." he began. "I'm leaving tomorrow night, Vachon. It's time." "But..." "Shhhh...." She placed a finger to his lips. "No more talk. I'm so tired...." The evil that had seemed to stalk her was forgotten, in the arms of her master, and she settled into him. Her last fleeting thought before sleep overtook her was the image of a dove flying into the sun.
I can feel it coming in the air tonight. |