Yes, I had a flair for drama.
True, few in that myriad collection knew just what I might be to them.
Rumors of the winged-demon had begun to spread in private whispers between those I wished to suspect.
Those who did not deserve to know me? I plucked the thought straight from their puny brains.
Yet, it should be noted that when working with immortal minds, it takes something more than a soft spoken order to gain the attention of something that has already seen everything and found it wanting.
Those with the skill and the years whispered back to me, carrying on their current conversations as if we were not discussing the very fabric of their existence.
“No insult is intended toward your bride. What excellent taste you have. I’ve longed for a Daywalker of my own.”
Then fuck a human and make your own.
“It’s been ages, Vladislov. How do you fair?
Oh, I am well. I am well enough that the world might actually bloom for a space. Well, maybe after one more plague.
“Gifts will be sent.”
Indeed they would be. The most honored of the flocks would be bled for my soul’s breakfast. And it would be delivered, steaming hot, in jeweled cups. There would be gowns, art, trinkets, land, palaces, secrets….
And those who delivered most would have no true understanding of why they did as they did. Something deep within would niggle at them to produce, that their survival was on the line.
All of this would be kept from Pearl. Well, not the blood. She deserved to sample the fare. But all the chalices, all the wealth, would be tucked away. She would drink from the same crystal to which she had grown accustomed. Live in what she considered quite lavish circumstances, though they were far from what true depravity might offer.
The simple things made her soul sing all the louder.
Caskets of jewels? Those could wait and be playthings for our children. An entire museum of cups crafted just for her lips would be erected in some far off country. To amuse her, I’d take her there some day.
She would laugh to see it.
Gold, diamonds, silver… cups carved from meteors. I could already say for certain that she would still prefer the simple cut crystal.
But few would know such secrets.
Of course, there would be grand soirees in which she might hold a finer cup. But the guest list would be excruciatingly hand-selected. Maya could be trusted with such a task, should I be able to tempt her away from her immediate hunt of those who dared plunder her homelands for what humans considered ancient—such a laughable term—artworks of one of the most interesting and valuable cultures. Nok, they called it these days.
She’d been a wonder, born to a family of wonders.
Such a soft spot I had for wonders. Most of whom were wise enough to take the invitation in my less structured flock.
Ach, but Maya was also in love with a human man, which I pointedly ignored and equally found intriguing. She lived with him as a human.
“Work from home.”
What a term, what a marvelous construct. Vampires anywhere smart enough to install the proper windows could play human. She had children!
Hid their nutritional needs in their food.
That would be an epic disaster the day she came clean that she was older than dirt, wanted in several countries for very grisly murders of art “collectors,” and that they would not age past their prime.
The husband… would she change him?
Not that I cared. Really. I didn’t. I even wondered if she did it all to amuse me. That’s how self-centered I am. Am I not a wonder on my own?
She, who fought for the treasures of a people long lost, had seen me in my hideous glory thanks to Pearl’s request I show her my true face. And Maya had wanted to know when she too might have such wings.
Adorable.
Unlike the stunning brunette of true Grecian stock daring to glare at me, and who I would unmake before sunrise. One pretty female I had turned thousands of years ago.
She’d had her time in the shadow of my interest.
And she knew better than to allow jealousy and dark thoughts of comparison between herself and my true bride. Apphia seethed, demanding her due for servicing me for so long to be thrown over for a skinny daywalker with a mind she could easily see was Swiss cheese.
That’s how she thought of it! How dare she!
She even dared ask me if I had fallen into madness.
As I stood in the midst of the strongest I had created, as the most powerful of my kind fluttered and gathered like bees about their queen. As my dear bride laid her eyes upon her child for the first time and worked through the complications that arose from such a monumental occasion, I tore the jealous harlot’s mind to ribbons.
But with subtlety. After all, this was a wedding, and it would be inappropriate to make a scene.
First, I took away her name, so that she would never recall it. A small thing that would lead to very amusing situations later. A thing she wouldn’t notice, not while she was still arguing with me over the sacrifices she made for me. Not when she dared claim that she loved me in a way my Pearl could not.
Nothing, ever, would love me as my soul already did. Pearl wasn’t aware of her connection yet, how woven together we’d already become. My son was right in claiming that any who saw my true face and willingly took me into their body in that state and survived the onslaught had to be my equal.
There was a reason I called her my soul. But Pearl was so much more.
If I was a demon, she was an angel.
