The Vampire from Hell

Chapter 21 - Change of Plan

He nodded back at me, showing he understood. A tear fell down his cheek. He seemed to be struggling against my hold on him. How odd. 

I glanced at his neck, briefly, quickly, and there it was. His jugular was summoning me, asking that I make contact. Pulsating. Thumping. Beating in time with my heart. I groaned. My throat started to tighten up and I knew I had to break the spell. I had to keep Ashton safe, from me, from the creature I was. If I turned him, we'd be together forever. But who was I to turn a human? And more importantly, how did I go about it? 

"Who cares!" The voice inside my head agreed. "Drink the boy!" 

Grabbing him by his elbows again, I seized the moment. There was no turning back now. "Ashton, can you hear me?" I asked, shaking him. 

"Yes, Rayea," he replied robotically. 

"I'm not from Arizona. My father isn't a banker. He's the prince of darkness, Satan as a matter of fact. And I'm not just a fan of vampire fiction. I am a vampire, from Hell actually. If we continue to date, you'll be in danger, and I can't have anything bad happen to you. We have to break up. You have to go. You have to leave here and never come back." 

"So you're setting him free? He's not just a piece of meat to you then? You care for this mortal? How sweet, Rayea." 

I whirled around, putting myself between Ashton and the familiar voice I heard coming from near the French doors. I pushed both our bodies against the marble counter for protection as I racked my brain for a quick plan of action. 

"Beelzebub, you're not welcome here." 

"No doubt," he replied. "Who's your friend there? Should you be divulging such secrets to him?" 

Beelzebub closed the French doors and strolled across the living room. He was an ominous, yet absurd sight dressed in his black outfit consisting of a black button up cotton shirt with golden snaps that matched his eyes, black jeans, a black long men's duster jacket, and black snakeskin boots. His outfit reminded me of the 'snake wrangler' ensemble Father had worn the last time I saw him before, but I refrained from laughing at Beelzebub. Not a good idea. Ever. 

He dropped his black cowboy hat on the couch and rubbed his dark blue bald head. When he noticed the People magazine on the glass table, he picked it up. "So many possibilities," he muttered to himself, flipped through it momentarily, and then tossed it down. 

I remained alert, slowly pressing my back into Ashton. I thrust my arms out ready for the demon's next move. If I could speak to Ashton telepathically, I'd tell him to not engage Beelzebub in any way. Unlike my father, Beelzebub and a few of his brothers were very efficient at being demons. They may be every color of the rainbow, but they had perfected the art of soul searching and loved using it on unmatched opponents any chance they got. It was the equivalent to a human killing a fly or a spider when they could just walk away. I knew Beelzebub rarely passed by an opportunity to show off his ever-expanding skill set. Physically blocking Ashton's view of this creature was the best I could do. 

"I mean you no harm," he said as he waved one of his hands at me. His claws had turned dingy brown long ago by being stained with blood. Not his own. Others'. "Your father has simply gone missing and we are concerned. That is all. Where is he?" 

"I have no idea," I spat at him. 

He continued surveying the few belongings I had collected while on vacation that were displayed in the living room and on the bookshelves near the French doors. A few paperbacks including every flavor of art, mythology, and philosophy I could find. One or two statues of Bastet, the Egyptian Goddess and the Sphinx. A few cat figurines and a bad museum produced copy of the blue Egyptian vase Stephanie had destroyed. He picked up a silver-chained necklace Lynn had given me that had a large set of matching silver vampire fangs attached to it. She had asked me to wear it when we went out. I had yet to do so because I felt it was more of a weapon than jewelry.