"A what?" Zed cried as he piloted the borrowed minivan.
"A succubus!" Cressida responded.
"Succubus? Aren't those spirits who have sex with people?"
"In your dreams, Wolfman."
"You gotta understand," Scott explained, "Zed is a young man."
"Yeah!" Zed said. "It's hormones! So back off!"
"And what's up with you, Campbell?" Cressida asked, "Why haven't you tried draining me yet? Not that you'd find the blood very appetizing, since I am a supernatural creature."
"I'm not that kind of vampire!"
"What? The kind that doesn't drink blood?"
"Well, okay, I'm that kind of vampire."
The minivan pulled up to the curb outside St. Michael's Parish, the secret local headquarters of that secret organization known as Ministry. Zed and Scott dragged Cressida, who by now learned that her resistance was indeed futile, to the rectory that held the entryway to the heart of Ministry. Upon entering the rectory and standing before the iron-bound wood door to the basement lair, the trio was confronted by a long-familiar voice.
"Okay," Professor 'Kitty' Weems said through the intercom, "Who goes there? I've always wanted to say that!"
"Hi, Kitty, it's me, Scott. I'm here with Zed, and we have a prisoner for questioning."
"Scott? Oh hi, Scott! And Zed! Last time I saw you was at the House, and you were kind of in your Grrrr! Wolfman mode! So, how have you been?"
"Kitty? The door, please?"
"Oh! Of course! Sorry, Scott!"
The door groaned as it opened inward, revealing the stone staircase that led into the heart of Ministry. Scott led Cressida by the arm down into the dungeon-like room, followed by Zed. Weems stepped out from the shadows, wearing a lab coat and a friendly smile.
"Hi guys! Good to see you!" She said.
"What are you doing here at this time of night?" Zed asked.
"I practically live here. No, make that actually live here. After my rental agreement expired, I just kind of moved in. I guess that means I'm living with Jeremiah! In a purely platonic sense, that is. Actually, he doesn't even know I'm living here. So, who's your friend?"
Scott shoved Cressida into a nearby chair. "She's no friend, Kitty. Hell, she tried to kill me!"
"She tried to kill you, Scott?"
"Yeah, well," Cressida said, "It didn't take."
"Why would she do that? Why would you do that?"
"Look, I explained to not so tall and dark here that I was doing a job. That's all."
"So, you're a hit... whatever you are?"
"Succubus. I'm a succubus."
"Wow! A succubus? I haven't seen one of you in ages! This is so cool! I have so many questions to ask you!"
"Uh, Kitty?" Scott asked, "Stop geeking out over the lady who was going to kill me, please?"
"Sorry. You know, Jeremiah would probably want to know about any attempts on your life. Maybe I'll go get him?"
"Yeah, good idea."
As Kitty headed off for the subbasement of Ministry that served as Jeremiah's personal fortress of solitude, Zed and Scott glowered over the detained Succubus.
"So," Zed said to Scott, "How do we do this?"
"Do what?"
"Interrogate the suspect."
"Interrogate the... Zed, have you been watching reruns of Dragnet again?"
"No! What else do you call it?"
"How about just talking to the lady?"
"Ah! Good cop, bad cop. I see how you are!"
Scott rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Anyway, Cressida, if that really is your--"
"Yes! That really is my name!" Cressida exclaimed.
"Oh. Anyway, let's start at the top. Why were you trying to kill me?"
"Like I told you, I was doing a job."
"Murder for hire, only it's a murder that leaves no clues, no forensic evidence. The perfect crime. You must not come cheap."
"Why, thank you! And no, I don't."
"Who hired you?"
"Like I said, I don't know. I make it my business not to know. It's a lot healthier for me that way."
"Then how do you get the jobs?"
"Through a handler. He gets contacted through a dead drop, then he calls me with the particulars."
"Who is this handler? How can I meet him?"
"Whoa, no, I'm not gonna burn my connection."
"Want me to work her over?" Zed asked, "'Cause I'll get some answers!"
"Yeah? Woof woof."
"Okay, that's it! Time for some waterboarding! You do have waterboarding equipment around here, don't you, Scott?"
"Calm down, Zed," Scott said. "What I want to know is why somebody wants me dead. Somebody who obviously doesn't know I'm a vampire."
"Haven't you ever pissed somebody off?" Cressida asked. "I mean, pissed them off enough to want you dead?"
"Yes, I have. Of course, that was in the course of me being a vampire."
"And never as a plain old mortal?"
"No, never."
"Well, Mister Nice Guy, then it seems you have a real mystery on your hands, don't you?"
Scott palmed his forehead. "Great. Just what I need, another mystery. As if I needed more stress right now."
"Don't sweat it," Zed said, "At least vampires don't get high blood pressure!"
Scott was about to respond sarcastically when the door to Jeremiah's subbasement opened. Kitty led the way out, endlessly chattering about some unrelated topic as she stepped back onto the floor. "Hey, I told Jeremiah all about our hit Succubus."
"Indeed she did," Jeremiah said as he appeared in the doorway, "In nauseating detail. So, where is our guest?"
"Right here," Scott said as he stepped aside to allow Jeremiah to see the seated prisoner.
Jeremiah stopped in his tracks, his eyes widening, his jaw slowly dropping. Scott wondered what would cause Jeremiah to have that reaction; when he looked back at Cressida, he noticed the same reaction.
"Wait," Scott asked, "What's going on here?"
"Cressida?" Jeremiah croaked.
"Malek?" Cressida responded.
"What? Do you two know each other? And what's with the 'Malek' thing?"
"We... we do," Jeremiah said, "And before I took the name Jeremiah, my name was Malek."
"Huh. You learn something new every day."
"Shut up, Scott. How? How can this be?"
"You... you left me, Malek," Cressida said, "You left me to die."
"No! I... I saved you!"
"Yeah, some savior. You set me out in the desert!"
"I gave you directions! I knew of a people who would take you in and would keep you safe from Octavian's soldiers, but then you disappeared! I searched for you, but never found you!"
"Obviously, you didn't search hard enough."
"Okay," Scott said, "Obviously, there's some history here."
"Yes, Scott, there is," Jeremiah responded, "There certainly is."
"Care to let me in on it?"
"Not especially."
"Oh, come on, Malek," Cressida said, "Don't you care to reminisce about the good old days?"
"Yeah, Malek," Scott said, "Why don't we reminisce some?"
Jeremiah folded his arms. "First of all, Scott, 'Malek' no longer exists. Second, there is much in my past I do not care to remember."
"And that includes me, obviously," Cressida spat.
"No, Cressida, that is not true. Of all my memories, the memories of you were the best..."
*
ALEXANDRIA, EGYPT
40 BCE
The marketplace was crowded on that hot Egyptian afternoon. Optio Quintus Rufus and his two best friends, Legionaries Marius and Porcius, were looking to enjoy their leave, having left the confines of their barracks to go out onto the bustling streets of the city. Naturally they came to the marketplace, where vendors from all over the known world could peddle their trinkets. Marius desired to purchase a piece of jewelry, a silver pendant with an inset of lapis lazuli, which he could send to his mother back in Lucania, an expensive item which surely would have eaten deeply into his savings. Quintus and Porcius were looking for other baser pleasures.
"Where's the fucking whorehouse?" Porcius asked. "This is Alexandria! Don't they have a whorehouse around here?"
"Now, calm down, Porcius," The optio ordered, "Of course they've got whorehouses. If it's something these Egyptians do right, it's their whorehouses. They're a lot cleaner than any in Italy, and the women are sweeter as well."
"I better not catch something off them," Marius said, "Remember our squad mate Aelius?"
"How could I not," Quintus replied, "That boy always bitched about how his pecker burned whenever he took a piss."
"Yes, well, I don't want to get like that."
"What, you mean annoying?" Porcius asked, "Because you're already annoying enough."
Marius started to return the insult when their superior officer cut them off. "Look lively, boys," Quintus commanded. They all stopped and looked upon a female vision in white, sheer linen, a creature of rare form and beauty. The testosterone-addled soldiers instantly forgot what they were arguing about. "Now, that is what I am talking about."
"Is she a whore?" Marius asked.
"Who gives a shit?" Porcius answered.
"Porcius is on the right path," Quintus said. "Whore or not, I think we could have us some fun with this."
"Even if she's no whore?" Marius asked.
"By hades, if General Antony can fuck the Egyptian queen, then so can we, as far as I'm concerned," Porcius said.
Quintus motioned to his men and the trio began following the young woman, through winding backstreets, to a moderately-sized temple. The young woman walked up the marble steps into the edifice, as the men stood around, looking at the structure.
"It's a temple," Marius observed.
"No shit," Porcius said. "A temple for what?"
"I can't read the gods-damned picture writing these Egyptians use!"
"Ah, well, I can hardly read Greek. So what?"
"It could be bad fortune if we entered with ill intent."
"Boys!" Quintus said, "Obviously, it's a temple to an Egyptian god or goddess. We're Romans. Our gods are superior, and besides, we run the place. Fuck their gods."
"I can think of something I'd rather fuck," Porcius said.
"Right then, follow me!"
The three off-duty soldiers skipped up the stone steps into the temple. The interior was filled with smoke from sconces of incense. The white-clad woman was now kneeling and chanting before a large, gold-covered idol of a female deity. The idol wore a headdress with horns and a sundisc and held an ankh in her hands.
"Well, well," Quintus said as he interrupted the priestess' prayers, "Isn't this lovely. So, that's your goddess? She's a looker, that one!"
The priestess spun her head around to see the foreign intruders. "How dare you intrude upon this sacred place! You are unworthy!"
"Well, now, sweetheart, I don't suppose that's your call, now is it?"
The priestess rose and pointed at the soldiers. "This is the temple of Hathor, daughter of Ra. Your presence here is blasphemy!"
Porcius stepped forward. "Oh yeah? Well, what's she gonna do about it?"
Quintus grabbed his mate's shoulder. "Now, now, Porcius, I don't want to pull rank on you, but I'm going to have to. You'll just have to make do with the leftovers."
The optio walked up the steps to the dais on which the altar and idol stood. The priestess stood her ground, and as Quintus drew closer, she slapped him in the face.
"You are unclean!" She cried, "I curse you in the name of Hathor and Ma'at!"
"You're a feisty one," Quintus laughed, "I like that!" He grabbed the priestess by her arms. "Now, we're going to have us some fun. Go ahead and scream if you like."
"She does not want to have fun with you," came an unfamiliar voice. The lascivious soldiers all turned to see a tall, muscular African man, wearing leopard skins, standing in the doorway of the temple.
"Well now, who are you?" Spat the optio.
"Release the woman," The African man commanded, "Then leave this place and never return."
Porcius drew the dagger that hung from his soldier's belt. "Our optio asked you a question, Ethiopian, so you better answer!"
Porcius then advanced on the interloper. Malek swatted the dagger aside with his left hand, then grabbed the soldier with his right and tossed him aside as though he were a child's plaything. The formerly aggressive soldier hit the stone wall and fell unconscious.
"This priestess is under the protection of Queen Cleopatra!" Malek said, "Which means that she is under the protection of your General Antony, which means that I am within my rights to slay you all where you stand! Now be gone from here!"
Without questioning the African man further, the soldiers gathered their wounded comrade and fled the temple. Malek turned to leave the temple as the priestess called to him.
"Thank you, kind stranger," She said. Malek stopped.
"It is my duty. The temples of Egypt are important to my Queen."
The priestess stepped down from the dais and approached the masculine stranger. "Please, I must repay your kindness. What is your name?"
"I am called Malek. I am a servant of the Queen."
"Malek? I have heard of you! Men speak of you with fear. They say that you are he who feeds upon the blood of men, and women, by extension."
"This is true. Are you not frightened of me?"
Instead of retreating, the priestess stepped even closer. "No. Should I be?"
"I am no threat to you. Of course, I could be lying."
"But you're not. My name is Cressida, priestess of Hathor."
"Cressida? You use your Greek name?"
"Yes, I, like our Queen, am a descendant of Greeks, but I am a daughter of the gods of Egypt."
"It is my honor, Cressida."
Malek took her hand, raised it to his mouth, and kissed it. Their eyes met. He had seen and experienced many women, but this one was different somehow. It was not merely her beauty, as beautiful as she was, neither was it the sweet and rare perfume that wafted sweetly from her black hair. There truly was something different about this woman that enchanted Malek. He could not explain it; it simply was.