Evangeline part 2 – Gabriel

Until the night I met Henri Dauterive, I lived in a world devoid of light. My own choice, of course. I preferred the night and stayed in the shadows during the day. I hid from anything that might reveal what I was.

Henri stumbled into me as I crossed Canal Street on my way uptown. Already inebriated, he was on his way down to the Quarter. I don’t know why I turned to follow him. Maybe it was nothing more than easy prey. Maybe it was fate.

It wasn’t hard to over power him. He wasn’t a large man and he was soft. As I leaned in to take him I caught the scent of a woman on his breath. I kissed him to taste her. He was so shocked at being kissed by another man that he didn’t even struggle.

Bourbon and sex. Interesting, but not what I was after. As my lips left his I turned him so his back was against me and covered his mouth with my hand. I sank my fangs into his throat. He struggled ineffectually for a few minutes as I drew what I needed from him.

My eyes grew wide as I drank him in. In his soul was a blackness so thick it dimmed my vision. Pedophilia. Incest. Infanticide. Cruelties beyond anything I’d seen in ages. I choked on him and nearly let him go. Then she was there, a candle burning in the midnight of his dark, chaotic essence.

Long, soft black curls, caramel colored skin, large, surprisingly light, green eyes, and sensuous, full lips. A beautiful child on the verge of womanhood.

It was her I had tasted in his mouth and I could smell her now on his body. He used her barbarously and she enjoyed it. He had taught her to love pain. My fingers clenched, digging into the skin around the corner of his mouth and he whimpered pathetically. I was enraged.

As I snapped his neck his last thought exploded inside my head. “Evangeline, mi aime jou.” The sick love he felt for her flashed through me like the heat from a solar flare. Grunting, I shoved his lifeless body away from me and fell to my hands and knees, breathing heavily.

I was suddenly aware of how empty my own soul was. I felt the crushing loneliness that I had for centuries denied. I ached for her. I pined.
Evangeline.



It wasn’t hard to find her. She was his niece and Henri had moved into their Garden District home to take care of her and her mother after his brother’s death. For weeks after I had taken Henri I stood in a corner of Evangeline’s room at night after I had hunted and fed. Just being in the room, listening to her breathe and watching her dream eased the constant ache in my chest as it stoked the fire in my loins.

Two nights before I had taken enough from her to leave her weaken and carried her to their family mausoleum in Chalmette. The few minutes that she lay on the steps of the tomb, staring blankly at the marble angel that guarded the door, while I waited for her to choose between eternity with me and death with Henri, felt longer than the thousands of years that I had endured without her. When she had finally said yes to me I was on my knees again.

I had brought her here to the old plantation house I call mine on the edge of the bayou and once again had spent hours watching her sleep. When she awakened late in the afternoon I had made love to her before finishing what I had started the night before, making her forever mine.

Standing naked in the French doors that opened onto the balcony, I turned to look at Evangeline. She was asleep lying on her stomach with one arm bent under her head, the sheet barely covering her lovely buttocks and one leg. I wanted to wake her. While the act of physical love was always pleasant, I never climaxed. Until making love to Evangeline I had thought it impossible for a vampire.

Three times now I had achieved an orgasm while thrusting into her lush body. They were dry, of course, but the sensation was mostly the same and all three times had left me trembling in her arms like a callow youth. The second time it had happened my body was wracked by dry sobs while she held me.

The sun was rising and I turned away from the sleeping form of my lover to watch it for the first time in years. The fiery orange orb was just beginning to rise over the cypress trees by the river when Evangeline called my name, her voice tinged with panic. I turned to see what was causing her to sound so distressed.

She stood a few feet from me at the edge of the patch of light that that was creeping across the floor from the open doors as the sun continued it’s climb.