Evanescere: Origins by Vanessa Buckingham Read Free Book Online Page B

never see me again and neither will yours,” I told him. I could
feel the anger, the hatred, and the rage in my voice.
    I wanted this to last, to
torture him, to prolong the inevitable. Unsure of what I was to do, I gently I
bit into his neck and I felt the warm blood begin to hemorrhage down my parched
throat. I drank his blood until I could no longer taste the warm fluid going
down my throat. All the while, I heard his thoughts and it was agony. To know
this miserable low life has a wife and children hurt me to the core. The very fact
that he would do this to me and others. His wife was so clueless to the monster
she had really married. I get flashes of the others from that night. I know who
to seek.
    “Salome, have you had
enough?” he asks, “I don’t feel you ache from hunger.”
    “I am done,” I tell him.
    “How do you do that? Most
young vampires such as you tend to be gluttons. But you have surprise me!” he
tells me. I could hear the wonder in his voice.
    “Maybe I will feed again later,”
I tell him. We reposition the bronze coffin back in the mausoleum in silence.
This man is enclosed in a coffin with the loved one of another. Will anyone
know? I erase the thought from my mind.
    Jack again reminds me that
we must also get rid of any evidence of us.
    “Never leave a bite mark
visible. You must always seal the wound with your saliva. It will heal it. Then
you make it appear as though a robbery went wrong, or some drunken fool went
into the Mississippi. You must never kill the tourist. If you did no one will
come here anymore. We both know that New Orleans survives on the money that the
tourists bring in,” he explained.
    I remember my final days
as a human. We were tourists here to. I wonder what has become of Axel in my
absence. This is something we have not yet discusses. It seems that it has been
an eternity since I disappeared. I was not entirely sure how long that was, or
what day it is. Axel must be going crazy with worry, if only there was a way
for me to get a message out to him. I wish I could be there to tell him
everything would be okay. I change the direction of my thoughts.
    “So we kill the locals
then?” I question.
    “No, we kill the evil
doers and rid the streets of New Orleans of the filth that pollutes her,” he
quietly tells me.
    “You said there are
others, do they do this or is this your preference?” I question
    “It is my preference,” he
answers.
    “Why?” I ask.
    “I never wanted to be
this, Mon Cherie , so I make do with what has been given to me. I am a
police officer because it helps me find the evil doers,” he explains. “I give
justice when the justice system fails the people. It gives me some sense of
purpose if I make the city a little safer. I enjoy the idea of being able to
save people. There is no point in seeing humans kill each other off. It has
been an ongoing dilemma since the days of Genesis. There is no resolution to
stopping murders from happening on a daily basis. Murder is a part of human
nature; it is a part of the worlds natural design. There is no rhyme or reason
to it. It just occurs. Feeding off of a murderer or some heinous person makes
me feel a small sense of absolution. If my life were to end, then maybe I will
see heaven in the end. Maybe there is no heaven and life just ceases to exist
for our kind. We will never know what happens after death,” he explains.
    I sensed his sadness, his
despair in his quiet voice. Maybe, now he was grateful to have someone to share
his thoughts with. I put my hand in his and looked up at him. I believed, that
had I met him in some previous life, I could feel safe to be with him. I saw
the corners of his lips raise to a smile and his melancholy had vanished just
as suddenly as it had appeared. I quickly changed the subject.
     “What is our hunting
area?” I ask. I knew most hunters in general tended to have their favorite
places to go. I knew people who had deer leases outside of San Antonio or