Blood Sisters_ Vampire Stories by Women - Paula Guran Page 0,214

rebound. Life, lived correctly, is love. So Cole and I tried to live in the music. We tried to make our last act in this or any world, one of love.

At some point, I sensed the pricking of vampiric ears, the rustle of their clothing as we drew them in. The sounds unnerved me, filling me with images of rot. But it wasn’t them I remembered: the sense of bodies closing in around me. I remembered Cole: her face, bone white and desperate, but so brave.

I knelt, let her kick a leg over my head before grabbing her ankle. Flesh had never felt so real to me. Her skin burned through her stockings, burrowed into my sweating palms. When we clung or fell or rocked in place, our fingernails left dents in one another’s flesh. She tore my shirt, circling me, slashing with her nails as she re-lived her loss. I could hardly contain my sob as my hands ran down her body, relating how I had loved in my youth. Across the uneven floor, strewn with the bones of fools, we fought and danced and loved back and forth. And finished: my head pressed to her belly as the strings swept to a halt.

“I love you,” I whispered. The words simply fell out of me. Her body pulsed against my cheek, her hand caught painfully in my thin hair. In this place of death, I felt more alive than I had in thirty years.

“It’s all right,” she said. “Get up, Father.”

I rose, aching all over. I had sacrificed the last of my elasticity for her. I had knelt on that floor an old man. I rose decrepit.

Cole placed her hands on my shoulders, squeezing as she looked at me. Her face glowed, flushed and beaded with sweat. I knew we had made a terrible mistake coming here. Yet only here could I have realized: what I had whispered to her belly was true.

“Cole,” I said. Strange bodies were pressing near, heated and barely restrained. Their breath dragged at us, sucking bits of us away.

“It’s all right,” she said again. A tear coursed down her cheek, moving quickly as it merged with her sweat. “He’s coming now,” she said. “We won.”

“What?” I wanted her to keep looking at me. I would never live if she looked away: this light of love on her face. This euphoria. Her whole body trembled: alive. Alive.

But not for me.

Ash’s wife. The crowd, hovering around us, parted ranks. From a Moorish arch, three figures approached. I recognized the woman who led them.

“Cole,” I whispered. The heat of our dancing faded rapidly, my heartbeat speeding from exertion to fear. I tried to hold on as she pulled away, heading for the woman. She’d taken the object from her bag.

A man followed the vampire woman, and a smaller figure, but I had no time for them. The man, tall and pale, his dark hair slicked to the side, was beautiful as a sculpture. I was sure he had been even more glorious when he was alive.

“Cole!” I cried, trotting painfully after her. She gave no heed, unaware of anyone but herself and the woman. And Ash.

“Cole,” the vampire mocked. She held up her hand and Cole froze, grimacing.

“No, Cole! No!” I forced myself to reach her, tugged at her arm. “It isn’t him anymore,” I said. “It isn’t him. Don’t do this.”

“I said I would kill you,” Cole told the woman. “I meant it.”

“Maybe you should listen to your friend,” the woman said. “Ash is ours now. Once we have taken someone, they are ours forever. Isn’t that right, Father?”

As she spoke, the little figure behind her came forward. A dirty veil covered its face—swath after swath of yellowed net. The bridal gown might have been fashionable in my youth.

I trembled, knowing somehow what would happen. Then the vampire flipped the veil aside and I saw a face I had not seen in thirty years.

Earth bit my knees. I did not remember falling. The vampire led Maria towards me and she came with the tentative steps of a girl at her first communion. Her face was blank and beautiful and cold, her dark, liquid eyes taking me in without recognition.

As I bent beneath my grief, the vampire moved towards Cole.

“You see?” she said. “She is ours. Ash is ours. There is nothing you can do.”

“There are ways,” Cole said again.

I looked up just in time to see her stab the object from her purse into the woman’s