Cognata: A Vampire Romance (3 page)

We entered through a side passage, passing through a large, unlocked oak door. Inside, Aristide lit the wall's lanterns with what appeared to be nothing more than a kiss from his hands. He was truly a mysteriously wonderful creature and as the time went by, I found myself wanting more of him. He took me deeper inside his fortress and I must admit, it was hard to experience it in its entirety. The walls were bristling with garden flowers, carefully placed one by one as a decorative pattern.

The living room was very spacious, having a velvet red couch and two opposite chairs with the unfinished artwork of a woman looking out at this very island... the same way I looked for it at the ballroom.

"Who is she?" I asked knowing the answer already.

"The girl who wanted to be free." He responded from behind me.

I turned to face him with the intent of showing some sort of defiance, or at least making him try for what he wanted but he was seated in the opposite chair - the dim, orange, hazy lights highlighting his pale skin and the bottle of wine he'd fetched while I pranced about unnoticed.

"Care for a drink?" He asked, his fingers slowly sliding down the bottle appealingly. I found myself smirking at his offer. Taking careful, seductive steps closer to him, I reached for the bottle - our fingers interlocking just for a second or two before I gently seized it away from him to observe the brand. There was nothing on it. No label, no maker. Just an ancient burgundy glass with a dark, red liquid dancing about inside. I didn't turn away from him, but I felt his signature coldness moving behind me, crawling up my spine and making its way to my right shoulder. He parted my hair as his lips softly pecked the nape of my neck, then he slid his kiss slowly along my collarbone. My body shuddered at his touch. I'd forgotten everything in that moment in time. My eyes were already shut till I felt an object touching my breast. I reopened my eyes to see a glass in front of me. He was expecting me to do the rest.

"Tell me something." I quietly spoke as I poured the dark liquid into the glass. "Will she be free?"

"That depends... " He handed me the glass and waltzed away to gaze at the work. I watched him silently.

"On what?" I finally asked.

He refrained from talking immediately. His mind was too busy collecting his carefully planned suave.

"On whether she'd walk with me or not."

"Is that what you want?" I took a sip of the wine, leaning back into the chair he was in and crossing my legs. He finally turned around again, observing me as if I were the next subject of art - "It is."

My eyes fluttered upon his remark. I'd be lying if I said any part of me wanted to run back home. His demand, and the way he looked at me made me felt... naked. I was being sucked into his theatric and he was directing the drama splendidly. I did not want it to end. No man had ever been so sure and it was intoxicating to feel so desired. He folded his hands behind his back and took a few steps closer.

"Can I ask you something now?" His face grew curious for a change.

I enjoyed seeing him, a little less solid and more, vulnerable - "Go on."

"May I draw you?"

I looked to the unfinished painting with a smirk, "Haven't you already?"

"No... " He dragged on the 'o' again, "Not the way I should have."

My head tilted sublimely as I took another sip of the wine, unconsciously already giving him the answer - "How would you draw me this time?"

Aristide came closer, bit by bit, his coldness getting stronger but the heat of my own flesh: rising. He gracefully came to his knees and placed his hand on my thigh, looking up at me with eyes that eagerly craved me.

"Without restraint... " He silently whispered as his hand glided up the curve of my hip and to my side, "without limit... " he continued to my ribs, a finger or two softly brushing against my right breast while his upper body leaned closer to me, his lips coming nearer - "without fear... " his hand on my shoulder.

"Free... " He said to me, his lips touching mine, pulling me into his world affectionately. I was petrified. The coldness of death in his touch did not bother me. I wanted it. It made me warm, moist,
melting... wanting and needing...
My hips arched forward, my head tilted back and that poor glass of wine spilled all over the floor while I released a soft moan as he marked a trail of kisses down my body, each cold touch being countered by the rising warmth of my skin. I felt his cold lips soothingly grasping parts of my lower body - my belly, my hips, my thighs. Soon he'd stripped away my undergarments, and I felt his lust taste my soft, quivering womanhood.

My eyes were half shut from the things he was doing to me. I was fading away to paradise, panting and moaning without a care in the world. In the blissful haze of the moment, my eyes wandered all over the room while my hands ran through his hair. I saw the depictions on the walls - paintings and icons of supposed ancient gods and goddesses: some the likes of which, or anything similar, I'd never seen before. Winged creatures and statues of pale figures.

He broke me to his will. He had an unrivaled technique with that tongue of his and yes, it pushed me so fast to the edge that within a mere minute or two of him being down there, I'd already erupted into the wildest orgasmic frenzy no virgin girl could have concocted in her wettest dreams. I was shaking when he came back up, his cold eyes staring down at me telling me,
more
and his lips drenched in lustfully savoring me. I caressed his face with my hands, looking into his eyes, speaking volumes without a single word, and pulling him into me to taste myself on his lips. He was gentle, but dominant. A strange mixture that, as I would eventually find out, few men can ever pull off so well. He was ready to connect to me, man to woman, and as he did, he held my wrists down restraining me: planting more of his kisses around my neck - each one sprouting another soft moan from my lips.

I felt the grip on his lips growing firmer on my neck. I was enjoying it at first, but then it grew stronger. It felt sharper, like knives were slowly and painfully penetrating my flesh. I started losing my mind. I was in pure ecstasy, feeling the greatest pleasure and the worst pain at the same time. Everything was spinning. For the first second or two, I wanted to get him off me. Time went on and the pain only deepened... I secretly wanted it... I didn't want him to stop giving me either. If it was more pain for more pleasure, so be it.

Take me as you must, just don't stop...

I could see my blood, dripping from the corner of his mouth, felt it escape me, dripping on the cobble floor. His eyes were no longer cold and dying, they were amber and life was brewing.
'Take me.'
I whispered in my mind as he sucked on my neck - pulling the liquid of life from me. Each gulp, my vision growing fainter, the sounds around me losing their vibrancy, the colors fading...

Take me...

If I were to die, what better way to expire?
End me here. Let me be free.

I should have screamed. I should have called for help. I should have fought with every last survival instinct and got up and ran, but I didn't. I let him have me. I let him take me as his own. And I loved it. I loved every, single, moment of it.

My legs wrapped around him, pulling him into me deeply and I think that surprised him. Excited him more, if you will. He gazed into my eyes, dumbfounded by what he was seeing. I didn't resist.

Was that what he was looking for?
Acceptance?

A new face unveiled itself on him. He wasn't just cold and seductive, like his usual manner. I saw
feeling
in him. Warmth, hope, and above all - care. He held his wrist out and bit into his own flesh. I was laying there, life fading from me, crossing the threshold to the other side. The world around me had sprinkled into an ethereal atmosphere. I was smiling delightfully as my eyes were ready to shut for the last time, a tear slithering down my face wondering if at last, I was finally... free.

Then I felt something drip on my mouth. It was ice cold at first but strangely became warm as it soaked my lips. The more it drained into my mouth, life started singing in me. I opened my eyes again and saw him presenting me with his wrist - an offer of feeding. Some, natural urge to sustain life crawled out of me and I held his wrist weakly with my hands, pulling it down and slowly sucking on his veins. He caressed my hair gently as he laid next to me, feeding me. Life was coming back and I wanted more and more of him but as I looked up, I could see his rising discomfort.

Why didn't he tell me to stop? Why didn't he tell me to pull away?

I could've kept going, repay the favor and suck him dead yet I stopped. I slowly licked my lips as the blood dripped out of my mouth, tasting his life as my eyes called innocently to him while his looked down on mine. Suddenly, memories of things I'd never done - thoughts of places I'd never seen and dreams that challenged my carefully fixed perception on reality all came rushing into my mind like a furious waterfall, tossing me over the edge.

I knew him. I knew him more than what should be possible. More and more of him kept flowing through my thoughts. The places he'd been, people he'd met, people he would meet... and then I saw a whole new history unfold before my eyes. Figures of shadow, from days ancient and old. Times that went so far back in history that would seem absolutely crazy. I saw the stars and space - the null and the void, an endless expanse that connected every fragment of the cosmos. There was no stopping what was happening around me.

The pain I'd felt before was nothing compared to this. My body began pulsing with heat. I became overwhelmed seeing all these visions and Aristide knew that. He leaned down and kissed me deeply, still holding my hands restrained - his fingers interlocking with mine. His kiss was distracting from all the images. All the thoughts were racing through my head so fast and so suddenly, I was sure that I would die right there.

"Stay with me, my love... " I heard him say. "Stay with me... "

Interlude

Samuel Speaks, 2017

"Wait... " I stop reading and take a long hard look at her, trying to visualize the tale I was gobbling. The disturbing part is that I can actually picture it. Disturbing in a bad way? Not really. It is more disturbing in the way that I always had a feeling, something about her leading down some dark alleys and I was right.
Always trust your gut feeling.

"Why do you feel... warm?"
What a stupid question to ask
. It could all be bullshit, and she's just a lunatic thinking she's a 'supernatural' creature.
There is no such thing as supernatural. This is all wrong.
Then she starts giggling.

Was she reading my thoughts again?

"What?" I'm embarrassed, trying to play it off.

"You're right. There is no such thing as supernatural." She takes my hand to her face, caressing it softly. It's warm. Smooth. Normal.
How?

"I am warm because: I
choose
to be warm."

What the hell does that even mean?

"Many of the Cognati abilities people commonly refer to as 'supernatural' are simply heightened consciousness related abilities. My ability to feel warm is because I've chosen to feel warm, and so, I do."

"That would take quite a lot of willpower and self-discipline."

"Correct."

"So this, Aristide guy, he uhh... felt cold because, he wanted to be cold?"

"No." She drags on the 'o' the same way I read her talking about him, "Aristide was... " she starts smiling, blushing too - "A bit of a rogue."

"And what does that mean, exactly?"
Jealousy incoming.

"Cognati are usually supposed to feel warm. Our blood only grows colder based on our thinking and our feelings. Aristide was cold, but not because he was evil."

"Then... why?"

"He was alone."

Alexia's Journal,

April 20th 1932

The next time my eyes opened and I could truly confess I was awake - I found myself rising to the setting sun, in a master bedroom with a bed that housed pillars of dark stone, sheets of pure white and an opened door to the balcony porch where the wind blew inside freely. I was completely naked. Every part of me ached: from my head to the soles on my feet, but I was in a state of recovery. I knew I was getting better.

I looked around as I sat up on the bed, trying my hardest to make sense of all the dreams... all the images... I didn't remember how long I was out. It could have been a day, a week, or more. I was terrified.
What would my parents think?
Did they send search parties for me? Were they worried?

I wrapped the sheets around my nude body and cautiously moved to the direction of the wind's allure. It called me to see the splendid wonder outside. I was high up in this 'castle' and below me was a hill that connected to the deep blue sea. My home city far off in the distance, some seagulls flying along the shore and the twinkle of the setting sun's rays drawing a beautiful picture of the fading day's sky.

"How are you feeling?" His voice came from behind me. I needed to see him so I quickly darted to find him and there he was. Arms crossed behind his back, wearing only a commoner's shirt and leather pants. I wanted to say so much, ask of this, that and the other, but my tongue was twisted. I froze. Not in fear, but in utter bewilderment. All that slipped off my tongue was the promise he gave me and so I asked him - "Am I free?"

He slowly came to me and trailed his hands up my shoulders and to my cheeks, firmly yet gently making me stare deep into his eyes with a smile.

"Yes, you are, milady." His hands parted my hair as he moved away from me, holding onto the balcony's stone handrails and breathing in the fresh sea breeze.

"I know you have many things you must ask me and I promise, I will answer them all truthfully." He faced me once more, a shimmer in his eyes. "Just know one thing. I will always be there for you."

It was very difficult to speak. My mind was shattered and I only consciously thought of petty things as I struggled to pull myself back together. One of these things was that he no longer felt cold and I thought I knew why. It was in the back of my mind and I pushed so hard to get it out. It had to have been more important...