On the Far Side of Darkness Read Free

woman, somewhere between middle-aged and young. She’s asleep, alone, and her bedroom shows no sign of a man.
    I take a moment to consider how to take her. Breaking in is a bad idea. It leaves too much evidence. I need a way to draw her out.
    That’s when I notice the smell of cat. It’s recent and strong. As I move towards the back door of the house it grows stronger.
    Perfect.
    I step on the back stoop, stand to one side and bring my plan into action. My fingers scratch across the screen door. I do that for several seconds, pause and then continue.
    After my third scratch I can hear, “Damn it, Jeffery. Mommy needs to sleep. Why can’t you pick a better time to want in?” Footsteps sound and the inner door opens.
    The next instant I move. The woman starts a gasp that stops as I meet her eyes. She’s mine now, under my control, blank as a sheet of new paper. I step inside, push her back a couple of steps and then I gather in my arms. My fangs sink into her neck and I draw her delicious blood into me.
    Mon Dieu! Feeding is orgasmic for a vampire. For us there is far more than blood in the taste. There are all the components that make up a human being. My prey’s emotions, her loves, her joys, her life passes into me to energize my dead body and black soul.
    My prey groans. A sound that contains as much ecstasy as pain and fear. A vampire’s bite triggers those parts of the human body and psyche connected to physical pleasure. It guarantees they won’t run, and that they are bewildered when I’m done with them. Between that and my mesmeric ability I can bend her mind so that no memory of being victimized remains.
    The woman shivers in my arms, groans again and I can smell that she is becoming aroused. Her taste changes, loses the complex texture it had contained. Instead the predominant feature becomes raw lust. The sudden intense change makes me suck harder at her vein. My emotions grow to become nearly as overwhelming as hers.
    I could do this forever.
    But I don’t. A small, rational piece of me keeps watch and makes me pull away long before my meal is in danger. Partly because bodies are likely to raise questions. No vampire wants humans to know we exist. The chief reason is because I don’t like hurting anyone. I may be a monster but that doesn’t make me selfish or cruel. A quick lick of the wounds on her throat heals them as if they never existed.
    “You only had a dream,” I tell her as I gaze into her eyes once again. “A very pleasant one involving a person you’ve often fantasized about.” With that, I leave her house, closing the screen door quietly. I’m three steps away when I hear her gasp as my hold on her mind breaks. She mumbles in confusion and then giggles. The inner door closes as I vault over her back fence.
    Once back on the street I turn in the direction of my small rented cottage. I’ve got a lesson plan to work on.
    And a smile grows on my face as I think about Diane Patterson.
     
    * * * *
     
    “The gap between the Second and Third Estates during this point of the Revolution was wide and almost uncrossable. They might as well have been in separate countries. This inability to communicate other than by shouting exacerbated the crisis.”
    I remember too well that horrible time both as human and vampire. Memories return and they still frighten. A revolution is a horrible thing.
    I’ll never tell that to my students though. They think I’m merely imparting what I learned when I wrote my books.
    “That isn’t true!” The interruption comes from an unexpected source; Mandy Richardson. She hasn’t been participating much. It’s almost as though she believes she’ll pass despite her lack of effort.
    “ Pardon, Mademoiselle Richardson?”
    “There were members of the nobility who sided with the bourgeoisie. The Chevalier de Vaudemont worked with them. He helped the two sides communicate.”
    “I’m afraid not. The Chevalier was a spy. He was reporting to his colleagues what