Chapter 45: Incomplete Lifetimes

April 1999

“This is she!” Tayla whispered. She knelt, looking at Rachel’s face, and studied it for a moment. With a gloved hand, she reached up and almost touched her face, outlining the contours with her index finger. “I suspected her to be beautiful. You are indeed a fortunate man, my dear Malcolm. I am so sorry about this mishap tonight,” she continued in a quiet, yet her usual smoky, echoing voice. “Shall we talk some tonight?”

“Of course, Tayla.” I closed the book regarding the Jackals and my journal and went over to the couch. “Shall I wake her? Or do you not want her to meet you just yet?”

“Let her sleep. She has been through enough tonight. I should have met her the first night she was here ... but then I probably would have had to do for her the same as I did for you. You would not have liked that, so I wanted you to bring her to the acceptance of our existence. Perhaps tomorrow night, we shall meet. I would be pleased if you took some time to prepare her for the event.” Thanks to Mortis, a nice fire was already burning in the fireplace. She placed her stole and hat along with the gloves on a coat and hat rack in the corner. Then she sat in her chair in her usual manner.

“Curious, are we? Checking out your competition?” I said in a low voice and smiling as if I detected jealousy on Tayla’s part. I took my seat across from her.

“Somewhat, perhaps, but more than anything else, curiosity. I respect her, because of you. She is part of you. She is the half of you that makes you a complete man and you are the completion of her as a woman ... partners in life. I have never been able to complete that part of my humanity. For that, I have always lived knowing I was incomplete. My life is a collection of incomplete lifetimes ... always young, but never living to grow old. The cycle is never complete. I can never give love or receive it in return. I can never reproduce as a human would. I could go on forever. With all my powers, I seem to describe myself with the words of ‘never able to.’ What a pity! A vampire has certain limitations, do they not?”

“How would you like to have life, and have it more abundantly?” I asked.

“I sense that you are about to tell me something from your book that cuts like a sword. I warn you; it arouses the evil one inside me. I sense the demon stirring about inside me, struggling to lash out.”

Her voice dropped down, and she looked extremely uncomfortable, even squirming about in her chair. My angels were in the process of binding it up, making it possible for me talk without apprehension.

“This book says that my Lord came into this world, not to destroy, but to give life. That is what you are seeking, isn’t it, Queen Tayla?” That was the first time I think I ever called her a queen. “You seek redemption, pure and simple. Christ is there to give it to you. I am only a messenger. When you are ready, I will tell you what you thirst for. In the life you live, you thirst for blood ... not just any blood, but that of the living. Christ knows of your thirst. He knows of all our thirst. He gave to me to drink of the Living Water. This is available to you also. The blood gives you life. Scripture tells of this in the book of Deuteronomy. So, you see, you seek life, because you, like humans are drawn to it. All of the living creatures are.”

With a sad face, she interrupted me. “All living creatures? I am dead! How would this apply to me? I do not think your book applies to creatures such as me. Though I appreciate your help, I wonder if there is any hope for me. The constant struggle with this force that wrestles inside me is wearing me out. I grow tired and weary with it each night. It tells me to let go and give in to it. Let it become my master and join my siblings to full conversion into the darkness. My world is shadows, whereas theirs is complete darkness. I exist in shadows, but I can see across to the light. They cannot. They only know that light is their adversary. Anything that resembles the light, or pertains to it, they hate. What they hate, they attack. What they attack, they kill. They killed those whom I have loved.