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Authors: J. P. Bowie
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may help soothe your troubles.”
“I…I cannot, Pietro,” I mumbled. “You would look on me with horror and run for your life—and I would not blame you for an instant.”
Gently, he brushed away my tears with his fingertips and kissed my lips with a featherlike touch. “I promise you, I will never run from you,” he whispered. “If it is too hard for you to talk of then I will not ask that you do. When you wish to tell me, will be time enough.”
I felt a rush of relief course through me then the thought came to me that putting off the telling could only make matters worse. If I delayed, and he came to regard me as the one with whom he wished to spend the rest of his days, what then? When he grew old and began to wither, and I changed not one whit, what then? No, better he knew now, and when his love changed to feelings of horror, I might find it easier to relieve his mind of the burden of knowledge.
“Have you ever heard of vampires?” I asked him, my voice sounding tense and strained to my own ears.
“Of course…who has not?” He chuckled, then asked, “Are you a vampire, Bernard?”
“Yes,” I replied, meeting his eyes, letting him see some of the feral light that glittered there.
His body stiffened with shock, and he jerked his head back as if to protect his throat.
I turned away from him.
Blood Resurrection
J.P Bowie
47
“So now you understand why you cannot love me,” I murmured, unable to look at the expression of terror I knew was etched on his lovely face. A long silence filled my tiny room, the only sound his slightly uneven breathing. “Perhaps you had better go now,” I said quietly.
“Are you sending me away?”
I looked at him with surprise. “You do not want to run from here? From me?”
“Am I in danger, Bernard?”
I shook my head. “No, not from me. I would never hurt you, Pietro, never.”
“Then why should I go when the man I love is here, lying beside me, holding me in his arms? Or was holding me in his arms until a moment ago.” “Pietro…”
A finger on my lips stilled my words. “What you have told me, I should find terror in, I know. But I look at you, dear Bernard, and I see only the man I love, not a rabid monster waiting to tear my throat out.” His eyes grew wide for a moment. “You don’t do that, do you?” “No, I do not.” I took his hand in mine and brought it to my lips. “If you want to hear that aspect of it, I will gladly explain, but first, let me assure you again, you are in no danger from me—nor shall you ever be.”
To show his trust in what I had just vowed, he kissed my lips tenderly and laid his head on my chest. “Then my place is here with you,” he said. Of course, he wanted to know how all this had come about, and I was happy to tell him of the circumstances that led to my meeting Marcus, our subsequent friendship, and how he had saved me from the plague.
“The plague?” Pietro raised his head from my chest where he had rested during my long story. “There has not been word of a plague for centuries.” “Uh…no, that is correct,” I said, touching his cheek and caressing it gently. “I was referring to the plague of sometime past.” “Oh…” His eyes searched mine for more of an explanation.
“Some hundreds of years past,” I added, my voice no more than a whisper.
“Oh, you mean…?”
I nodded. “Yes. I fear I am somewhat older than I look.” Blood Resurrection
J.P Bowie
48
A ghost of a smile flickered on his face. “Some hundreds of years older, by all accounts,” he said, struggling to comprehend this new revelation. “But you look so young.”
“Vampire blood has the power to resurrect and retain the image of youth…forever.”
“Ah…” He fell silent again, studying my face as if trying to see any telltale sign of my real age. Then he chuckled softly and kissed me again. “I always thought there was something different and special about you, Bernard. I just didn’t know how different and
“I…I cannot, Pietro,” I mumbled. “You would look on me with horror and run for your life—and I would not blame you for an instant.”
Gently, he brushed away my tears with his fingertips and kissed my lips with a featherlike touch. “I promise you, I will never run from you,” he whispered. “If it is too hard for you to talk of then I will not ask that you do. When you wish to tell me, will be time enough.”
I felt a rush of relief course through me then the thought came to me that putting off the telling could only make matters worse. If I delayed, and he came to regard me as the one with whom he wished to spend the rest of his days, what then? When he grew old and began to wither, and I changed not one whit, what then? No, better he knew now, and when his love changed to feelings of horror, I might find it easier to relieve his mind of the burden of knowledge.
“Have you ever heard of vampires?” I asked him, my voice sounding tense and strained to my own ears.
“Of course…who has not?” He chuckled, then asked, “Are you a vampire, Bernard?”
“Yes,” I replied, meeting his eyes, letting him see some of the feral light that glittered there.
His body stiffened with shock, and he jerked his head back as if to protect his throat.
I turned away from him.
Blood Resurrection
J.P Bowie
47
“So now you understand why you cannot love me,” I murmured, unable to look at the expression of terror I knew was etched on his lovely face. A long silence filled my tiny room, the only sound his slightly uneven breathing. “Perhaps you had better go now,” I said quietly.
“Are you sending me away?”
I looked at him with surprise. “You do not want to run from here? From me?”
“Am I in danger, Bernard?”
I shook my head. “No, not from me. I would never hurt you, Pietro, never.”
“Then why should I go when the man I love is here, lying beside me, holding me in his arms? Or was holding me in his arms until a moment ago.” “Pietro…”
A finger on my lips stilled my words. “What you have told me, I should find terror in, I know. But I look at you, dear Bernard, and I see only the man I love, not a rabid monster waiting to tear my throat out.” His eyes grew wide for a moment. “You don’t do that, do you?” “No, I do not.” I took his hand in mine and brought it to my lips. “If you want to hear that aspect of it, I will gladly explain, but first, let me assure you again, you are in no danger from me—nor shall you ever be.”
To show his trust in what I had just vowed, he kissed my lips tenderly and laid his head on my chest. “Then my place is here with you,” he said. Of course, he wanted to know how all this had come about, and I was happy to tell him of the circumstances that led to my meeting Marcus, our subsequent friendship, and how he had saved me from the plague.
“The plague?” Pietro raised his head from my chest where he had rested during my long story. “There has not been word of a plague for centuries.” “Uh…no, that is correct,” I said, touching his cheek and caressing it gently. “I was referring to the plague of sometime past.” “Oh…” His eyes searched mine for more of an explanation.
“Some hundreds of years past,” I added, my voice no more than a whisper.
“Oh, you mean…?”
I nodded. “Yes. I fear I am somewhat older than I look.” Blood Resurrection
J.P Bowie
48
A ghost of a smile flickered on his face. “Some hundreds of years older, by all accounts,” he said, struggling to comprehend this new revelation. “But you look so young.”
“Vampire blood has the power to resurrect and retain the image of youth…forever.”
“Ah…” He fell silent again, studying my face as if trying to see any telltale sign of my real age. Then he chuckled softly and kissed me again. “I always thought there was something different and special about you, Bernard. I just didn’t know how different and
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