That Which Bites

chapter 4–REASON FOR TERMINATION

TO SAY THAT POE was nervous would be an understatement. Her slouched, constantly shifting figure could not stay still on the slippery leather chair.

Her eyes flicked between Sainvire and the naked Modigliani painting behind him. Calamitously the bandage she had taken from the medical tray and wrapped around her bosom itched terribly.

At least the vampire looked as discomfited as her.

His clear eyes heavy with secrets, Sainvire finally cleared his throat and began.

“Before I tell you what I know, I must first ask you to disclose what I’m about to reveal only to people you trust implicitly.”

For a few seconds all Poe could do was stare incongruously at the master vampire. “Well, um, who am I going to tell? All my friends are dead. The humans here are so obnoxious, they won’t get anything outta me.”

“There’s Megan and Morales,” he said quietly, noting the stiffening of Poe’s spine.

“H-how did–”

“You’ll find out everything, Poe, as soon as I get your promise.”

“Alright. You have it, but on one condition. You have to tell me who killed my friends.” Even if it was you, Poe thought.

124

Rono/That Which Bites

Sainvire nodded his assent, his face not betraying anything.

“I give you my word,” he said quietly.

He looked intently at Poe’s face for so long that the girl was on the brink of developing a much bigger complex about her scar. Then he spoke with a deep, gravelly voice.

“Before the Gray Armageddon, a contingent of vampires was already in search of a new, non-human food source. With the aid of some very gifted scientists, geneticists, phlebotomists, and a brood of other experts who knew about us, we initiated research.

In two years, we made promising progress. But the gray matter came, destroying most of the human population and civilization as we knew it. And to this day, the poison winds still remain a conundrum for which we have many explanations but no definite answers. My personal theory is that we doomed ourselves with germ experimentation that succeeded in wiping out most everyone. Anyway, after the tragedy, vampires broke into factions to fill the power vacuum.

“The Vampire Council that had existed for hundreds of years set up a new working government in the cities with vampire concentrations.” He touched his temple and looked away from Poe’s dark gaze. “The Council in Los Angeles is composed of five very powerful vampires just as lost as the rest of us.

Predictably most undead decided to go off alone and hunt the remaining humans for food and sport without thought of the future. It was a chaotic time as you may remember.” He gave her a meaningful look.

“Looting and carnage ruled the streets for weeks afterward, eviscerating the already dwindling human population. Some of my scientists, the ones who had been working at an off-the-books underground location researching alternative food sources for the undead, 125

Rono/That Which Bites

survived when the gray miasma arrived. We salvaged the accumulated data and brought the files to this library. I moved the scientists here, and I have extended them my protection ever since. They and a few others have continued the research.” He cleared his throat, letting his words sink in.

“Vampires have existed for thousands of years, so I’ve been told. Many delight in creating minions by boring holes through a victim’s skull and pouring vampire blood onto the exposed brain or by repeated bites within days of each other. I had to do something about the steadily disappearing humans and the growing number of new vampires created each night. It didn’t take a genius to do the math.”

Poe sneered, “So you set up the operation, imprisoning humans against their will and turning them into a bunch of miserable cows to be bloodmilked.”

Sainvire’s gaze found hers. “I’m not going to deny anything, Poe. I am the mastermind of the whole sordid business. I deserve everyone’s contempt for what I have done.”

As if his guilt is going to right his wrongs! “Your life story is really interesting, but I’m too tired and vampire-prejudiced to care,” Poe sniffed, disgusted at the presumptuousness of this Mengele. “How is this connected to Sister Ann and Goss?”

Sainvire hardly blamed Poe for her animosity. He felt the same way about himself.

“Sister Ann used to be a leech. She fed the cattle, prayed over them, and collected their blood for a certain master.” The look on Poe’s face stopped him.

“Look, Poe. She wasn’t a leech by choice. No one wanted to drink her blood because superstitious undead declared they would self-combust if they did. And no one dared to kill her, as some still believed in the idea of an afterlife and the wrath of God for harming a nun.

126

Rono/That Which Bites

And despite the topsy-turvy times, Sister and I developed camaraderie. I managed to negotiate her release from the vampire she worked under and brought her here.”

He sighed, remembering the sweet, lined face of the nun on the brink of madness. If Catholicism was dying when the world was normal, it was dead now.

“We became good friends, believe it or not. She encouraged me to persevere in trying to find a new food source, and she commended me for not milking any of the cattle I maintained. Strictly volunteer blood donation or animal blood for me and my people.” He smiled and said, “Joseph treated her like a second mother. He even taught her some jujitsu when she was up for it.”

Poe couldn’t help herself. She was entranced.

Sister Ann had always been close-lipped about her previous life. What she did know of the nun, she had learned from Goss.

“One day Sister Ann asked me to grant her freedom.” Sainvire pressed the palm of his hands to his forehead. “I was petrified for her. Without my protection, anything could happen, habit or no habit.

The streets still crawled with rogue vampires who refused to stop hunting humans. They believed it beneath them to drink refrigerated blood. I tried to convince her that leaving wasn’t a good idea, but she was adamant, telling me that she was going to rescue the poor cattle she had helped bleed. I’m sure you know how hardheaded Sister Ann could get.”

Poe nodded. She certainly knew. The nun was unstoppable when it came to preaching against particular movies in her bunker.

“I knew I couldn’t stop her. She would find a way to escape. So we made a deal. She had to train with Joseph and ammunition experts living here for a year.

127

Rono/That Which Bites

Then she could go. Good thing she agreed because I thought I’d have to hog-tie the woman.” He beamed at the memory. “After the year had passed, I introduced her to Morales and Megan who were experienced traffickers in the underground by then. Her task was to rescue cattle and bring them to the runners.”

“Soon after, she met up with a very emotionally battered Goss who had just escaped from one of Trench’s facilities. Sister comforted him over Daryl, and later, when he was stronger, taught him all she knew. She brought Goss over for sparring lessons with Joseph.” He gave the barest hint of a grin. “He’d taken Aikido in college and proved to be an apt student.”

“A month or two after Goss threw you against his wall, and Penny,” he looked over at the sleeping dog,

“bit you on the ankle, our researchers made a breakthrough.” He forced himself not to laugh at Poe’s reaction. She shivered at the things he knew.

“They found that by putting together particular synthetic materials mixed with plasma, a few drops of human blood, and a few other not-so-hard-to-find minerals, the perfect vampire food was created. After a few trials, about eighty-five percent of our test subjects preferred the Plasmacore, as it’s now called, to blood.

Results vary from vampire to vampire. It gave some vampires better night vision, staved off hunger longer than blood, and it actually enabled quite a number of undead to withstand some sunlight.”

Poe looked at Sainvire a little differently. He had found an alternative source of food for vampires.

Farms and cattle would no longer be needed.

“But when I took my trial results over to the Council, I was quickly censured.”

“But why?” cried Poe, tucking her dirty feet in a cross-legged position and sitting straight back. “How could they want this, this…crazy thing to continue?”

128

Rono/That Which Bites

“Damned if I know. They didn’t even favor me with an explanation. I was threatened that if a single Plasmacore bottle is seen on the streets, then my charges and I would face the Council for treason.”

“Treason? What the hell does that mean?” a seething Poe asked, digging her nails into her uninjured thigh to keep from letting out a string of curses.

“It means that my people and I will be hunted and executed by the Council’s minions, and possibly by the Council itself.”

Poe shook her head. “I don’t get it. Wouldn’t they want to feel a little bit of sun, or –”

“It’s not as easy as that, Poe. The Council and some remarkably old vampires are shaken by this whole development. The councilmembers are ancient immortals who are strong beyond belief. The vampires that created them and the brood they have spawned all over the world have always enjoyed prestige and royal treatment. I’m not only talking about the Council in Los Angeles, either. I’m referring to all the councilmembers and Ancients who have profited from fear and reverence for hundreds of years around the world.”

“I still don’t get it.” Poe scratched her head in frustration. “Can’t their system take the Plasmacore or something?”

“They can drink the Plasmacore. That’s the problem.” With his hand, Sainvire stopped Poe from asking another question. “Put it this way, Poe. Imagine you are the Queen of England, set apart by blood, riches, and circumstance. You are told that if you drink a can of root beer, a soda that would take away all the perks and bring you on even footing with street cleaners, prostitutes, coal miners, and such, would you drink it?”

“Sure,” Poe answered quickly. “I love root beer.”

129

Rono/That Which Bites

“Yes, you would. But you haven’t tasted the birthright of a queen. Gold, crown jewels, palaces, maze gardens with peacocks, the rights of condescension.” Sainvire stretched his long legs clad in black slacks, nearly touching Poe’s foot which unwound at the same time.

“Our ancient, closed-minded vampires want the mystique of vampirism to stay. They want glory, awe, and fear from fellow vampires and humans alike.

Strength used to lie in the strain of vampire blood where one was created from, as well as the vintage of the vampires themselves. But even supernatural beings can’t compete with nature, science, and genetics.”

Poe nearly catapulted out of her seat as Sainvire’s extremely sharp and intimidating nails shot up fourteen inches, turning into deadly black talons.

“During the past hundred years or so,” Sainvire continued as if nothing untoward had happened,

“fledgling vampires springing from no discernible ancient bloodlines showed promise of power far stronger than many Ancients. Some could even walk in daylight, only needing to protect their eyes. Some could fly and some could unearth entire buildings with their bare hands. Some exhibited strengths far more advanced and complex than any ancient immortals from the earlier bloodlines.”

He stared at Poe for quite some time before continuing. His gaze lingered upon her long, lustrous hair parted on the side and held with bobby pins, her naturally arched eyebrows, serious dark eyes, small perspiring nose tip, and down to her lips, still swollen from a punch. “In short, the old order started to crumble. Superstitious hogwash now had a basis for scientific study. Old and ancient didn’t spell fear anymore.”

130

Rono/That Which Bites

“Are you an old vampire?” Poe asked, for she couldn’t take his probing any longer.

Sainvire chuckled. “Yes, I suppose I am, only compared to you. I’m sure the silly war I fought in won’t ring any bells. I left Chicago, my home, to fight with the Abraham Lincoln Brigade against Franco in Spain.”

“This was before World War II, right? I know it.

You were like Humphrey Bogart in Casablanca. ” She smiled at history learned through the insightful textbook of films.

“I wouldn’t put it quite that way. Rick Blaine ended up owning the Café Americaine in the Hollywood version, while I got to be food for a hefty Spanish vampire woman with foul breath who had been a prostitute at a seedy Andalusian whorehouse.

Did I mention she was sex crazed? The war was a lost cause, and my idealism died when shrapnel lodged into my shoulder.” He crossed one ankle over the other. “I was thirty-four years old when I changed into what I am today. We can thank the little señorita for lapping up the blood from my shattered shoulder and biting off a chunk of my noggin and spitting blood into my brain.”

“So your nails grow and you can fly. Do you have any other talents?”

“I have many talents, Poe.” His eyes left hers and stole a quick glance at her bound bosom. What a shame, he thought. “I will be sure to show them to you, but right now, I have to finish my tale. Where was I?”

Boiling from the vampire’s suggestive words, Poe said, “You were talking about the ancient vampires and the new breeds.”

“Yes, thank you. Anyway, the Ancients, when they found out about the talented new breeds, as you referred to them, they were naturally overcome with 131

Rono/That Which Bites

fear about the possible consequences. So like they had done for centuries upon finding freak vampires such as myself,” he retracted his claws for effect, “they hunted them down and exterminated them. However, when the gray came, it seemed silly to kill off vampires without justification. The Council would’ve been exposed. So they allowed us to be part of the new society, never letting us forget the primal order.

“Imagine their chagrin when I came up to them and offered an alternative to pure human blood. They were livid to say the least.” He sighed. “It was my fault, really. I thought everyone was going to have a fist-slamming celebration like I did. I also was foolish enough to assume that the Council owed allegiance to me for planning the cattle idea.” He looked at Poe, wincing at the cattle reference. “Here we are at an impasse. We have the Plasmacore, but we can’t let anyone outside this library know about it.”

Again Sainvire lapsed into silence, lines appearing on his forehead. “If you must know, I…I’m the one who killed Goss and Sister Ann,” he said, almost whispering.

Poe sat frozen, stunned at the abrupt change of subject. Pure anger seeped through her system like venom, and Poe bolted out of her chair. Before Sainvire could straighten his legs, Poe sprang on him, her knee on his thigh and the point of the medical scissors at his neck.

Her voice, deep and husky with pent up fury and melancholy asked, “Why?” She thought he was Sister’s and Goss’ friend.

Sainvire didn’t change his relaxed position. He looked at her dark eyes, swimming with hate, guilt, regret, two inches from his own. Her breath smelled of wintergreen toothpaste.





132

Rono/That Which Bites

“Because I wasn’t there when they needed me,”

he answered, closing his eyes. His mouth set in a hard line. “I was out of town, secretly meeting with other vampires, giving them samples of the Plasmacore and the formula and components to recreate them.”

Poe’s hand wavered, the scissors shaking, but still she didn’t let go. Her throat seemed parched and hollow.

“A master vampire shouldn’t leave his people, and that’s what I did,” he continued, his voice deep and soft. “I found out that Goss and Sister hadn’t arrived to turn over any cattle when I met with Morales and Megan in Pico Rivera.” He opened his eyes and stared at Poe. “I went to see Goss and it was too late. Trench had already gotten to them. That was when I saw you jump out of the glass window while under attack by Trench’s people.” He sighed, yet again. “You see, it was my fault for overreaching my bounds.”

Liquid fell on Sainvire’s cheek. It wasn’t his.

Vampires were incapable of crying. He looked up to see Poe’s eyes huge with tears. She clutched at his black shirt as if about to rip it to shreds.

“It wasn’t your fault, not entirely.” Poe’s voice was heavy with grief. “It was mine, too.”

Sainvire leaned forward and dug his hands on either side of her arms. “Don’t say that,” he commanded. “You went up to the clock tower by yourself to rescue them. You were surrounded by vicious–”

Poe shook her head. “No! I should’ve left my bunker sooner but…but–”

She cried hard, clutching at Sainvire’s shirt. “But I didn’t! I was too much of a coward!” She stabbed a number two pencil at his chest, but not hard enough to do any damage. “It took two weeks to convince myself to go out and look for them. At least you were off 133

Rono/That Which Bites

doing something important. While I watched videos and sat it out, my friends were being bled to death.”

Sainvire put his arm around her, only to be pushed roughly away. Poe slumped back to her chair. With the back of her hand, she wiped the drops on her cheek.

She kicked herself for being so damn weak in front of Sainvire. Some crybaby vampire killer she turned out to be.

Sainvire restrained himself from embracing the young woman fighting hard not to weep. Apparently they had two things in common: their love for their dead friends and the guilt they suffered over their deaths. No matter what the other said, the guilt would lie in both.

Quietly he rose.

“You can sleep on the bed. I thank you for listening to me. I know how tired you must be.” He bowed and walked away, closing the door behind him.

Poe stared after him, her nose red and runny. I must look disgusting and weak to him. For some reason, this thought bothered her quite a bit, for shouldn’t she have been dwelling on her guilt instead of what the vampire thought of her?