Big city

Lothar Berger was a busy man. He was also a busy vampire. It was not easy to be the leader and spokesman of the Freshmen. Keeping the balance between the world of humans and that of vampires was a much tedious and almost ungrateful job. Most humans, including the senators and officers, loathed and feared them. Well, he couldn't really blame them. With everything the Aristocrats did to distance themselves from the human race, with the hunting and killing, living away in either fancy castles or by now, abandoned factorial areas, he wasn't surprised that people had such a violent reaction. Werewolves were only a little better.

Lothar knew better, but he had but one voice, and though there were a couple of dozen around him to aid him in his work and battle, it was still a little thing compared to the vast mist of distrust and hostility.
Integration. It was all about integration. Lothar was quite certain that if only humans and their different mutations – meaning vampires and werewolves, and some other species he was relatively well aware of existing, could sit around a table and discuss their problems, many would solve. He tried his best to make it work, slowly, yet steadily. Many despised him for his efforts, many considered him a hopeless fanatic dreamer, yet he continued. Fortunately he had others around him to support him in his tasks. He did it for them and with them, and even when they suffered setbacks, their existence didn't allow him to give in.

The field to work on was vast, and sometimes Lothar felt extremely exhausted. It would have taken an army of men and women like him to do all that he saw which could be done. All the improvements to the society... He'd studied politics, history, genetics, medicine, biology, chemistry, hell, even rhetorica to be able to speak fluently about his ideas. Despite the impression of Lothar as an illusionist, he was actually a very practical, down to earth guy. Pretty damn old, too, compared to the rest of the Freshmen. He had two hundred years upon his back, however, his eyes were young, and despite from looking like a man in his mid-forties, he had the energy of teenagers.

Eddie had just left his office. They had a night full of work behind themselves. Genetics. Eddie York was all about genetics, and where his predecessors had left off with the research of the “nosferatu gene”, he continued, and quite successfully.
A bit later, Janell Fletcher dropped by, with an excuse of reminding Lothar about the visit of a station agent, Joe Charles, when actually she just wanted to have a hug. Janell was going through a rough period. She'd lost her beloved to the agents. Bertram had been killed mostly because he was a vampire, and because he'd happened upon an agent who hated vampires. Although Bertram had his licence with him, the agent had told him that he finds such licences a joke. When Bertram had began with his argument, the agent had shot a bullet through his heart. Poor bloke managed to drag himself back to the campus, where he died in Janell's arms. Lothar had feared and presumed, that Janell would now cease to fight for integration and seek vengeance instead, but he was glad to find that Janell only became more fanatic, saying that they will have to win this battle, so that such things would never happen again.

Overall, the Freshmen had a few senators on their side, both in this city, and others. If Lothar could have cloned himself, they would have been more advanced in these matters, since some of the leaders had been... well, not really into the mission. And they'd lost Kay.
A chubby brunette walked into the office.

“Lothar... You're still at your computer,” she said reproachfully. “Have you any idea what it will do to your eyes?”
Lothar smirked.
“It'll do nothing. I'm a vampire, remember? Anyway – hello, Eva. What can I do for you?”
The woman shrugged. “I just dropped by, though I'd see how you were doing and let you know that I'm almost done with the translation.”
“You are?” Lothar smiled. “Sounds awesome. You're pretty damn fast, Eva. Just how many sleepless nights did you go?”
“Three,” she admitted. “Well, not exactly, but I stole a couple of hours from here and there. Quentin had to drag me to bed.”

Evangeline Gray was a real treasure, Lothar found over and over again. She was one of the most active humans bound to the fight for integration between the mutated and unmutated. She was forty, had two kids, two university degrees and a cute husband. She also had a big heart and an enormous amount of energy, coupled with dedication she put into their work. And currently she was working on translating the manifest Lothar and Kay along with their assistants had put together... before Kay's tragic death. When finished – and apparently it would be very soon now – it would be posted to the human and vampire leaders of Asia. And if they found even a few souls willing to join in... it would be great. It would be a great step ahead.

Lothar chuckled. “Good Quentin. And how are Amy and Gina?”
“Well, well. Gina's pestering me about buying her a personal computer. As to Amy... well, she's dating a girl from her school.”
Lothar sighed. “Oh my. Time does fly. Looking at your kids, I can understand, just how fast it goes. I mean..”
“I know,” Evangeline nodded. “You do not feel the changes so much, because you do not get older yourself, and neither do most of those around you. You know... I really wish that... Oh, forget about it.”
“Of what? Come on, say it, Eva. Not as if I'd mind you saying just about anything.”
She sighed. “I just wonder, sometimes. What it would be like if you and Rosemary... I mean, if she was...”
“...alive,” Lothar finished her sentence. “If I hadn't been turned and we could have lived together, have kids... Well, I guess we would have had a bunch of kids and lived happily ever after. But it didn't happen, Eva, and the first proof is that I'm sitting here right now having this conversation with you.

Don't I miss it? Yeah, I do. But I've learned to accept my life as it is. I cannot reverse my past. Rosie is dead and we had no kids, and I am a vampire. Being stuck in the past is what too many do. Take, for example, the Aristocrats. They cannot deal with the present, and so they try to create another reality around themselves, thus believing they can withhold the passage of time.”

A tiny redhead poked her head in, now standing at the crack of the door.
“Lothar – the station agent is here. I mean – Mister Joe Charles is here to see you. Shall I send him in?”
Lothar glanced at Evangeline. “Do you mind?”
She shook her lovely head. “Naah. I'll better get going. Promised I'd take Gina shopping. I guess I'll have to buy her that computer. Not as if she'd give me any peace unless I do. And then maybe she leaves MY computer alone.”
Lothar nodded.
“You tell them uncle Lothar said “hi”. Quentin, too. I'll call you soon, then we can get together and chat.”
“Yeah, sure thing.” She grinned and smooched Lothar on his cheek. “Take care of yourself.”
“I will,” Lothar promised. “Jackie, you can send Mister Charles in.”

**

Logan slept soundly after a day full of several tasks. According to Enoch's planning, Logan was to study several sciences and practice fencing along with hand-to-hand combat. He didn't really mind. First of all, when he managed to keep himself busy, then he didn't feel so bloody miserable. Keeping his mind off the past and dedicating himself to the future was the key to his sanity, or so he believed. He'd been thinking awfully lot lately, more than he'd probably done during his entire life.

But the hardest thing to learn was to keep his mind sealed from his Maker. He'd learned a few tricks, though, especially with the advices he'd got from Emmanuel. The little mad scientist had proven a great ally, and though he didn't trust him much, because he didn't trust any of them and hated them all, he could still heed to his advices. Emmanuel had explained him that the attempt to keep Enoch from entering his mind was doomed since the beginning. Instead of wasting energy upon sealing himself up, he should concentrate on making layers of his thoughts and put his emotions, such as grief and hate, and perhaps even passion, on topmost shelves. So that when Enoch would probe his son's mind, he'd be greeted by emotions which he believed to be sole and dominant ones. So that he wouldn't dig deeper and find out what Logan was calmly planning. Emmanuel had encouraged him to try it out, and so he did. So far it seemed to be working, and besides – Enoch was a busy man – busy vampire – and he didn't spend too much time caring whether his pet loved or hated him. Sometimes it seemed as if he even cared, but most of the time Logan was just a pretty thing to make out with.

And that was the hardest thing in all this, Logan found. He could even deal with being a vampire and getting his sustenance from... from Emmanuel's feeding room or blood bank, as some called it, but the fact that he from time to time found himself genuinely enjoying the fucking... He was betraying Jerome. It burnt him, and yet he found it happening again. He blamed Enoch for messing with his mind. He'd even carefully questioned Emmanuel whether such thing would be possible, and his ally convinced him that it could indeed be so. A vampire as old and strong as Enoch would have many tricks upon his sleeve.

For some time, Logan had doubted whether he should bring his issue of being a fuck pet up to the court and say that now that he was a vampire, he wouldn't suffer anyone using him for such things – Emmanuel claimed he would have stood a chance to hold the case and even win it, however, it would have been unwise, making Enoch an open enemy of Logan's. It would have blown all the plans up the chimney. So they took the risk, and Logan tried to lull Enoch into believing that he had given in and accepted his fate as a plaything. From time to time, he felt like he would like that. Giving away all control would have given him peace. Only then could he rest. And yet the image of Jeremy and of all those people hanging rigidly in the feeding chamber stood up before his eyes, and then he had to play on. He had to get out, and he had to take his revenge upon Enoch.

He'd learned it the hard way, that when Enoch bedded him, the easiest way was to let go and have his body take over, so that he wouldn't have to think and his carnal lust would shield his every other thought. Just that... his body betrayed him, in a way, whereas in another way it was a perfect defence. And so he was the moaning trashing limpet, taking Enoch into him and letting him ride while the other got the perfect impression of a lad overridden by his lust.

And Enoch came each dawn and dusk to take him and fuck him. They rarely even spoke. Logan had to admit his partner was good, even very good. In technique, he outdid Jeremy and those few others Logan had lied with. There was but one thing missing, and that changed everything.
Logan didn't love his master, he hated him.

A soft hand brushed over his cheek, leaving a trail of delicate perfume into the air.
“Logan,” a deep female voice whispered. “Wake up, Logan.”
His lashes shuddered and he opened his eyes, only to find... what the hell was his Lady of the House doing here? But there she was, the beautiful Grace, dressed... well, more plainly than her usual attires, as if she'd felt the need to suddenly cloak herself from Logan.
“My lady,” Logan whispered, recalling the etiquette. He sat up and wanted to stand, but she held him back.
“Shh. No need,” she whispered. “I have come to talk with you.”
Okay... now that was weird, but then again, she didn't really sound as if she hated Logan or had come to cause him harm. She appeared... sad. Tender. And perhaps also confused.
Sillyhead, the last thing you need is trying to interpret vampires' feelings. So don't you let your guard down.

“Yes?” He was curious. Besides, wasn't this the perfect opportunity to talk to her, too, and perhaps win a new ally? Sure it was, just that he wasn't certain if he had it in him. And being forced to sit beside her didn't exactly do any good to his state of mind.
“By the looks of you, I think I should skip the introduction,” Grace whispered to him. Her voice was smooth, silky, and colourful.
Logan didn't know what to expect. He felt confused, and afraid of her.
Grace smiled and ran a finger over Logan's cheek.
“Now-now, do not be so afraid. I do not wish to be your enemy, Logan. There is nothing to fear. I come in peace, and I seek only understanding.”
Logan chewed his upper lip.
“Tell me,” Grace purred. “Do you love my husband, little one?”
Logan's mouth fell open. Then he shut it. Could he trust her? The bitch wife... Why did she ask such a thing? What should he tell her. But... no, it was there. Gosh, was Enoch blind or stupid?
“You love him, don't you,” he burst.
Grace eyed him almost suspiciously, but smiled then.
“A clever one... So you see... Yes, Logan. I love him. But the question is, do you?”
Logan sighed in relief. If she loved him, then he could most likely trust her – a little – and try to win an ally.
“No,” he spurted. “I do not!”
“Is that so,” she mused. “And yet I keep hearing what an excellent lover you are, how very enthusiastic. And when I walk by this door and stop to listen, I can hear you cry out his name in ecstasy.”
He had no other chance but to tell the truth.
“I fool him, my lady. I do not love him, I do not want him. I am married to someone, and that's the only man I love. Your... Master Enoch took me by force, he turned me to... to get back to you. I'm sorry, but that's what he said...”

Grace nodded, her eyes misty. “Yes... Carry on, please, I am listening.”
“He took me and turned me to get back to you, because... because he said that... that he found you in bed with a peasant. I'm sorry, I don't even know what that means. I am not implying anything... I... I hate him for what he did to me. I only play to... to...” He couldn't say it, just couldn't. He didn't trust her all that much.

Grace bared her teeth. Logan jerked backwards.
“I'm sorry,” Grace whispered, smiling again. “It had nothing to do with you. So, I thought that to get even with me, he found himself a lover, but now it looks as if... he is really desperate. No, not desperate. Mad. One must never make a child against the child's own will. It is punishable, and Master of the House should set an example.”

Her lips were ruby with blood.
“It is true, though. He did find me thus. I have many... lovers. That is a very ill wording, though. I have no lovers, just a bunch of cocks to come between my thighs and try to fuck me. Oh they do try, but they fail miserably. Some less, some more, but they are not him.

You say you are married, that you love your spouse and he loves you. Then imagine, how it was once, eight hundred, seven, six, even five hundred years ago. How happy we were, Enoch and I. We saw but each other and we were one in spirit and blood, I tell you. But time passed and somehow, we grew apart. He no longer came to me, I no longer went to him. You see, we are proud, he and I. He let me be. I heard that he bedded one or another, but I did not believe such rumours.

He left me alone, Logan, so very alone. I am no good being alone. I am no good being without him, so I took solace in seducing just about anybody. I wanted him to find out, I wished him to become jealous, but he didn't notice. Or if he did, he didn't care. So finally, just before he found and turned you, I arranged it so, that he found me with some kinsman with no rank in his own bed.

I thought he would talk to me then, but no, he was still polite and cool. He closed the door and never spoke a word of what he had seen. And then I was to find out that he had turned you, and made you his... sex toy, because that is what you are to him, Logan. Are you not?”

Logan nodded. “I'm sorry.”
“You have not done anything...”
“No, I mean... I'm sorry about this. I... don't understand.”
“Neither do I, my dear. Neither do I. But do you trust me a little more, now that I have told you how things are?”
Unless she was fooling him... No, she didn't look like she was. Besides, what would she have gained? Logan was a nobody, even as a vampire, forever a nobody in the eyes of the rich, famous and important.

“Yes, ma'am.”
“That is good. I would not want you to think I was your enemy. I feel sorry for you, too, and wish to help you. Besides... we might just have a common friend.”
Logan flinched. “E...mmanuel?”
Grace nodded. “Yes. Most charming and wise Emmanuel, who has also been wronged by my husband. I would tell you more, but He could read it from you and we wouldn't want that, now, would we?”

Apart from the feeling that Grace treated him a little bit like a small child, he really liked how the situation had turned out. How he had wished to have her on his side, and now she had come to him and they were. They were allies. Weren't they?

“No ma'am,” he whispered. “Will you... help me get out of here?”
Her eyes flickered. “Where would you want to go, my dear?”
“Home,” Logan muttered. “I just wanna go home.”
She chuckled a little. “Very well then. I will help you in this, and more... I will help you achieve your greatest wish.”
“You...” Then he realized that it was wise not to hear it and definitely not to think or say it out loud. Enoch could pick it up. He felt paranoid, and for a good reason.
Grace nodded. “Yes. So – are we allies now, Logan?”
The young man nodded nervously.
“Do not fear, I said,” Grace whispered. “And trust in me. Now, to seal our alliance, we shall go by the old costume of our kind. I shall give you a taste of my blood, and you will give me a taste of yours. Thus we form a bond.”

She'd really do that? Wow. OK, then he could perhaps really trust her. Like really really.
Grace bared her neck and beckoned Logan to approach her. He hesitated.
“Come. There is nothing to be afraid of. Come, little one.” She put her arms around Logan and pulled him into her lap. He hesitated. He looked at her neck. It had a beautiful curve, and it certainly didn't look like a human neck. Too white, too solid, too...well, eerie.

“I see you are afraid to begin,” Grace murmured. “Alright then. I will taste of your blood first.” She brushed his hair away from his neck. Warm lips touched his skin and then there was that familiar sensation of pain, as her teeth penetrated his skin – and yet there was pleasure, different from what he felt with Enoch, but...
He was corrupt. He swallowed, fighting back tears, as Grace drank a little from him. She felt so warm against him, and yet so very inhuman, like a statue come to life. When she let him go, he moaned.

“Drink,” she offered again and placed her neck so that his lips could touch it. He inhaled her scent. It was dark, like something... dangerous, and yet soothing. He knew he must have been under her thrall, and yet he let it be. He was so tired, he just wished to be held. Finally she had to graze her neck with her own nail and set the blood running. Only then did he at first lap at it, and when the monster took over, he bit into her, sucking at her blood. And he cried, flinging arms around her neck, his eyes closed, suckling like a pup.

Her body hesitated for a moment or two, but then she put her arms around him again and cradled him, holding him even when he had let go of her neck.

**

A lonesome vampire strolled down the emptying streets.

Citizens of M106 were not to move around during the night, unless they had acquired a special license from any of the stations. It was for the security. Everything in M106 was for the security. It would be easier to track down evildoers, if commoners-civilians didn't stick their necks on the way. It helped with the casualties. M was used to the casualties of war, but the government still didn't like it. Normal unmutated citizens were to stay alive, loyal and prosper. One good day, all the mutations would be cut out from the flesh of mankind, either by science – preferably – or by brute force. Different could not be trusted. Different could rebel. Happy worlds were about control and – more control. It was about keeping things simple and clear, with strict, easy-to-obey rules.

Emmanuel shrugged at the idea that he would have to be scared to move around at night. After all, he had an appointment. There was one little cyborg hunter to meet. Early at the night, Justice had called him and invited him over. She had said she would like to discuss the contract. Very well then. Of course he would see her, with much pleasure. But if she thought she could pry out some information beforehand... well then she didn't have a clue what Emmanuel Amado Zimmerman was made of.

Her flat was relatively small, minimalistic and with a huge balcony towering above the city. Vaguely he mused how she had acquired such a luxurious living, but then again – wasn't she the top notch hunter, praised especially by the senators and even the government. Now, that was a really rare thing, because mostly government looked at hunters as something that would be allowed to live merely because they were useful. After all, weren't hunters just as much outlaws as vampires and werewolves?

Emmanuel pushed his surprise at the sight of her into the depths of his mind. It wasn't that she was small, had a tanned skin and big boobs, every part of her speaking of attitude. Well, that, too, but there was more to it. Maybe it was the white of her spiky hair or those impenetrable eyes, impeccable smoothness of her movements that made her appear so little human, that Emmanuel felt almost... well, mortal.

When she asked him to sit, he did so much faster than he had imagined. Emmanuel had seen some who possessed the same capability. One of them was Enoch. They had in them something he liked to call “a king gene”, meaning that they were born to rule other people. This girl here most certainly had it in her. So, he would have to be twice as careful as he'd planned. She was dangerous. Oh yes, by the looks of it, she was just what he needed to put off Enoch Jonathan Morin. Bye bye, my dear Master. Your time is due, your time has passed. Our kind will need to aim towards the future and you do not even allow us to have a present day. You keep us locked in the past, so that we are stagnated. But such stagnation is the heart stone of our peril. We cannot face the cyborgs of the government with sticks and rocks, however traditional and noble it would be. And you have failed to see it, Enoch. You cannot handle being a Master any more. Hell, you cannot even handle your own marriage. You would think me ambitious, and indeed I am, but instead of being an individualist like you, I have a collective mind, and I think of my kindred as you once did. But those times have passed. So one way or another, you shall fall. Once I had remorse towards you, and compassion, but you have punished them out of me.

Some of this he actually told the girl, to make her understand why he wished that she take down such a man, such a vampire as Enoch Morin. He merely wished that he could have read from her expressions how she felt about this. But she was cold, not a nerve moving. Just how much of a human was left in her, he wondered. Those who thought that they could tamper with a body and leave the mind untouched or vice versa, were fools. And fool was something that Emmanuel Zimmerman clearly was not.

He wondered if he would ever find out why she took the case. Was it only because he had promised to reveal the killers of her mother? Did she even care? Her movements were slow and beautiful, with nothing rapid or clumsy in them as humans had. Just how cyborg was she? Some of his resources said that she had become an avenging angel because of her mother, but... looking at her now he couldn't really be sure. It was rare for a human being to give up her life so willingly... IF the myth was true, of course. One could never know.

He asked her how she plans to do it, he offered his help. She answered that it is none of his business and should she need his aid she will ask for it. By the looks of her, it didn't seem very probable.
He felt satisfaction that he had not allowed her to be his only plan for Enoch's take-down. There was still Logan... oh yes. And there were the other cyborgs, soon to be completed. And if it didn't work... it better. There wasn't much time left. If Enoch grew too suspicious, then he could shake off his ignorance and take actions against Emmanuel and Grace. Ah yes, Grace was a beautiful side of his plan. He hoped he wouldn't have to kill her, too. If he could make her fall for him, then perhaps she could live. He wanted her and needed her for much greater reasons than incredible sex. But so far he could see just how much she loved Enoch. Yes, she spoke of killing him, but Emmanuel was certain that if anyone actually threatened Enoch, she would strive to save her husband despite of all the so called hatred she felt. Emmanuel didn't really trust women. They were too emotion-striven.

He left, none the wiser, and decided he would talk to Logan very soon. Grace had already promised to do so, but she couldn't be trusted in these matters. Besides, Emmanuel needed to keep the young man under his thrall, and for this, he had to talk to him often. He considered he should have the lad drink of him, so that his blood would give the young one strength to put up with Enoch. He couldn't afford to have Enoch find out what they were up to, and the more he involved Logan into his plans, the more dangerous the situation grew. The less time he had to complete it. But it needed to be done, and the risks he took were all accurate and vital.

On his way back, he met two agents and had them for dinner, leaving their bodies naked, just for mockery. They died with their cocks bulging, that's how good he was.
His kiss was always a good-bye.