Primae Noctis

She was lost to the sea, and did not want to be found.

The initial coppery tang of red liquor that coated her tongue and throat turned oh so sweet. The
hot blood wormed and careened throughout her body. Pale skin briefly tinting with false life as she
continued to drink. Her ears filled with the rushing noise of the sea of crimson in which she floated and
bobbed about. This was it. There was nothing better.

“That’s enough Bertha. Arretez, ma petit epine.” A calm and soothing voice pierced the rushing
noise that threatened to overwhelm her. With great reluctance Bertha released her bite, and retracted
her elegant but vicious fangs. The young gentleman slumped against the stonework in the dark and
secluded alley. Fresh blood ran in rivulets onto his white shirt, his sack suit collar pulled roughly aside to
reach his tender neck.

“Oh, right!” She whispered to herself. Bertha remembered her “manners”, as she referred to
them, and quickly leaned in to drag her tongue across the bite marks causing them to disappear. She
was a bit upset that she had been so messy. She looked down at her dark grey blouse now spoiled with
drips from her mouth. Bertha turned to look up at Gavin as the young man began to groan, his eyes
fluttering open.

Gavin nodded expectantly and stepped back into the shadows, ever further away from the flare
of the gas lamps that cast their glow onto the street down the way.

“Quoi? Quo…” The young man rubbed his head in confusion but any sort of doubt or concern
that flitted across his face was immediately replaced with a fixation on the beautiful creature that stood
near him.

“Oh dear, you took quite a tumble here! You should be on your way home, and forget about
this. Look after your head there, that is most important.” Bertha smiled a smile that the young
gentleman thought most heavenly, but then a cloud gathered in his eyes and he furrowed his brow
intently.

“Oui, jolie fille! Bonne nuit!” The young man bowed respectfully and made his way to the
welcoming street, damp from a recent light rain. He turned back, squinting, but there was nothing.
“Mon Dieu, did I dream this?”

When they had made their way back out onto the street, Bertha looked up again attempting to
register whatever she could on the face of her sire. Gavin flashed a brief smile. “You did well ma petit. A
little, shall we say, messy. However, you are very young and learning. Dare I say tres rapide.”

Bertha nodded and smiled as she shoved the now blood stained kerchief back into her handbag.
Her face once again presentable although the stains on her blouse, damask silk no less she winced to
herself, would not stand up to close inspection should anyone become overly curious.

“Do not worry Bertha about the blouse, it is easily replaced.” They continued their walk in the
little commune of Gentilly located a few hours by automobile outside of Paris. Gavin had made a point
to head further east from Paris as Bertha passed posters affixed to the sides of cafés and entreprises
proclaiming “Remember Belgium!” and “L'infanterie Française Dans la Bataille” with a dashing
illustration of a French soldier holding his rifle over a map of the country.

Bertha politely kept still. Talk of the war upset Gavin. Actually any discussion of him prior to him
siring Bertha was typically met with deflection. However, she had seen him some nights, when he didn’t
think she was looking. wiping the tears of blood away from his eyes mumbling to himself about cette
nuit. She never pressed him for details. She believed he would say something when he was ready. Could
be tomorrow night, could be a hundred nights from now.

They passed a bistro, mortals taking in a late-night meal of which now to Bertha smelled
offensive if not downright sickening. A small part of her brain tried to recollect the taste of mortal food
simply out of habit, but then scattered quickly as images rushed in of her pulling the smiling young man
to the ground, wrenching his head aside and biting deep. She had slaked her thirst, but something inside
still was a very small knot of hunger. Buried for now, but ever present, waiting like an adder ready to
strike from the undergrowth.

“Something bothering you mon chou?” Gavin tilted his head to look down at her.

“It’s nothing Gavin, just thinking on what I could do better next time when feeding.” She didn’t
enjoy lying to him as those images that flashed in her head were more than of just taking a bite from a
horny young man in an alley. She bit softly at her lower lip contemplating the far more disturbing
thoughts that arose from the pits of her brain.

“Ah, oui, oui do not be so hard on yourself. You have been as you are for just a few short years,
but already you carry yourself with a grace and an elegance some twice your age would be jealous of.”
Gavin stopped them from walking and looked straight into Bertha’s eyes.

“Remember, la bete will say anything to deceive you. Never trust it! Ever! It will lie and twist
everything until it gets what it wants.” Gavin’s blue eyes glinted at Bertha in the darkness. She bowed
her head and then replied she would do her best. Gavin smiled.

“Come, mon frère Cullum awaits us at our glorious chateau!” Gavin laughed in the darkness and
for the briefest of moments it seemed as if he wanted to scoop up Bertha and carry her on his
shoulders. However, he instead gave her a reassuring squeeze to her hand. Bertha smiled widely at this,
she loved Cullum and his ever reassuring presence to their little family, she couldn’t wait to get home
and tell him how much better she was getting at this.

As the darkness swallowed them up, a figure detached itself from a column of shadow. The poor
man held in the firm grip struggled briefly as bones cracked and flesh split. Beautiful raven waves of hair
spilled around his neck. From the open wounds no blood spilled, as by that time he was as empty as his
eyes which stared off into the night.

The woman released her bite and licked her lips sensually, already forgetting the crumpled
bloodless heap at her feet as she stared where the man and the girl had gone.

“Soon, mon trésor. Soon.”