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Chapter Thirty
Jared sat in one of the local hangouts for his kind, his feet up on a bar stool, cigarette in one hand, scotch in the other. The big screen TV was tuned into the local news and he watched it with a mixture of mild irritation and wry amusement.
When he'd come out of his last hyberstasis, a voluntary hibernation for vampires who needed a break from living, the world had changed immensely. He’d been intrigued for the first time in centuries, with the invention of automobiles and airplanes, the telephone and the television.
Since shortly after his mother's murder and consequently his father's death he'd been taking fifty to one hundred year sabbaticals. Unfortunately the limit for hyberstasis was a century and the catch was that you had to remain in the land of the living for the exact amount of time you'd "slept". This last time he'd gone under for the full term and still had another fifty years to go before he could do it again. But at least the constantly evolving technology kept it slightly interesting.
There were a number of others in the bar shooting pool and bragging about their latest exploits. Once in awhile they glanced warily in his direction. Ever since the night he'd put a gruesome end to one of their buddies, they tread softly when he was near.
A couple of human males came in the door and headed to the bar. They were young and definitely not local-this he knew because the locals tended steered well clear of this place. He listened in on their conversation and as usual they had nothing of value to say.
Humans, he thought with disdain. They were responsible for destroying everything and everyone he’d ever loved. His mind touched on Ceri, the female he would have mated. A human mob had slaughtered her village because they had deemed them to be witches and sorcerers and monsters. Such short existences men lived, how could they possibly think they understood anything, let alone come to the conclusion they had some unholy right to pass judgment? And yet they did, over and over, throughout the ages, human ego never changed.
Once upon a time he had viewed them as ignorant and helpless children in need of his protection. He’d had an affection for them similar to that of a parent towards unruly offspring. He'd believed they were mostly good despite their ridiculously short-sighted concepts, that it was only their lack of time to gain wisdom through experience that led them to frivolous and often destructive pursuits. There had even been a time when he'd called some men his friends, men who had fought beside him in battles against the common enemy of the shadow demons. But such humans were rare even back then and had long since disappeared.
Now he just saw them as selfish, parasitic brats, lower than the lowliest of animals. Because unlike the other beasts of the world they had the ability to understand the affect of the choices they made, but continued to make them regardless. Which was why he generally didn't care what his fallen brethren did with them, except that they proved to be similar in nature. The newest generation of vampire cared about the same things as the human populace did- sex and drugs, money and power, and above all mindless entertainment, the more gruesome and shocking, the better. He was reasonably sure that the practice of drinking from and especially draining humans of their life essence changed something fundamental in their make-up.
Long ago, when vampires had first taken this path it was said they were damned. They could no longer withstand the sun and it was related to another son by members of his race who still held the old ways. For his own part he didn't know. He had never tasted human blood, the very thought of it repulsed him. But he still felt a bit of lingering resentment that humans could be forgiven for all manner of heinous sins and a vampire could commit one and be irredeemable. He understood that to harm or take the life of another being for nothing more than selfish desire was the very definition of evil. But as far he was concerned the whole of humanity fell into that category.
He took another sip of scotch and glanced at the other patrons. There were a few of his kind who mingled in this pub that had yet to make the final leap into the abyss. He knew this from the conversations he'd overheard along the way. He was also aware of small factions of his race that continued to perform the duties they were created for, and he had, on occasion, watched from a long distance away as some of these hunters tore into a group of unsuspecting demons. He’d had no desire to jump into the fray. These days he was content with the malevolent shadows keeping their distance. They could sense he was no one to fuck with the same way everyone else could.
He looked out of the corner of his eye as a couple of males approached him.
"Terrence was wondering if you wanted to join us tonight under The LeRoux," the shorter one conveyed nervously.
He eyed the jumpy male and gave a slow and emphasized shake of his head.
"Oh. Okay, but uh..it's gonna be off the hook, the girls they hired are into you know, everything and anything, plus we have some pills that actually work for us...." he trailed off noting Jared’s growing irritation. "Sorry to bother you, we just thought we'd ask." His pal who had been standing further back turned tail and they both hurried away.
For the years he'd been coming here he'd had many offers like this one. As if he wouldn't just show up if he was so inclined, he did not require invitation. He knew they were referring to a rave, he'd been to many in various locations. He’d lost interest after the first dozen or so. If he wanted human girls to perform for him all he needed to do was walk into a club and beckon. They followed him out like the pied piper.
Fifty more years, he thought, and I can sleep again. He lit another cigarette and returned his attention to the television.
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