***
With that wake-up meal of blood, he was able to get a burst of strength that allowed him to break the old chains that had held him prisoner at the bottom of the ocean.
Shortly after that, Dominic’s hand shot up from the water next to the end of the boat dock. He grabbed the cement landing and pulled his weakened body out of the ocean. He gasped for air as he glanced down at the old English clothes that had regenerated with his body. It was as if he’d never been in the ocean—as if it were still the year 1808. But it wasn’t.
He lay still, taking in air, allowing his body and mind to clear and grow stronger. With no stars in the sky, the crashes of waves against the cement pillars were calming and serene as Dominic coughed up water.
It was all coming back to him now.
He remembered how his clan had betrayed his leadership. They had captured him, weighted him down by the ankles—chained with silver blocks—and dropped him into the ocean to become fish food. Silver was a vampire’s kryptonite. Alone at the bottom of the ocean, he had waited to be rescued. He had waited for someone to rescind the clan’s decision and retrieve him from his murky hell. Instead, they had left him.
Only the power of human blood could have freed him, and it had.
Dominic rolled over and glanced down the dock, past the sand to an odd light further away. His vision strained and his strength weakened, his body fought to regenerate to its full potential.
Where is this place? What is that light that floats in the air?
Disoriented and confused, Dominic stumbled through the sand and out onto the street. His vision blurred—his senses were in a state of disarray. Mesmerized by the traffic lights with three different colors, Dominic stepped off the curb and into the gutter. A motorized carriage flew past him and honked its horn, sending him back onto the sidewalk. He recoiled and hunched down, fangs extended and a small growl grew in his throat.
What in the name of all that’s unholy was that?
He backed up and hid behind a tree off the road. The noise of the vehicles was deafening and the lights were blinding. He had never before seen electric lights.
Once his mind adjusted to his surroundings, he was in awe of the modern world around him. This was not the same world that he had left behind, one that had been driven by the power of birthright and horses. If a man didn’t own land and a fine horse to take him places, then he had nothing.
This was not the same world, one in which he had once dominated. He stayed crouched down behind the tree and watched. There was not a horse in sight. There were however, fast machines that moved people. Lots of them.
“What is the means of their propulsion?” His throat was raw and sore—his voice was strained and scratchy.
Dominic watched the people—astonished by those holding cellular phones up to their ears and talking into the square boxes. His eyes darted from their odd hairstyles and hair colors, risqué clothing, and body piercings to their many shapes of motorized carriages.
It was almost too much to behold. He’d glance down at the pavement every so often in order to gather his thoughts and slow down this sensory overload.
Then a neon sign at the top of an establishment near the pier stopped Dominic cold. It flashed red and yellow light. The logo of a figure with large bricks attached to its ankles appeared to be floating in the deep sea.
Dominic leaned down and lifted his pants leg. A red ring encircled his ankle as he imagined it did when he had struggled to get himself free of the chains and shackles two hundred years ago. Without the power of a blood feeding, he had been too weak to escape his bonds.
But his luck had turned with that unexpected blood meal that had suffused his skeleton with a cloud of red and reconstituted his body.
Now that he was free and back on land, he couldn’t take his eyes off the glowing sign. There was a resemblance to him—a resemblance to the vague memory of that dreadful night when they had betrayed him. He didn’t take his eyes off the sign until he walked into the bar. There were beating hearts all around him. He was still famished, but too intrigued to partake in blood. This world was colorful and rambunctious. There was a raw energy in the room that was exciting to him.
He glanced past the people when he noticed a woman riding a mechanical bull, or so it appeared from the fake horns attached to the front of the thing. He had never feasted his eyes on such a goddess—a human goddess, at that. Her brown, wavy hair, flipped to one side, cascaded over her shoulder with the tips brushing against the machine she was sitting on.
Her long, soft legs straddled over the metal beast between her thighs while her bosom half-spilled over a blouse neckline that peeked out from behind a black leather jacket. Her skin looked soft and supple. Her golden-brown eyes were as inviting as a sunset across the open sea.
Dominic wanted to touch her, to feel her warmth beneath his cold fingers. He had an urge to feel her heartbeat against his own chest. He was mesmerized and entranced. He was under her spell.
His first thought was that she was a witch, one who was using her magic to take over his starved and weakened mind. Maybe she was a witch who had put a spell on him—a binding enchantment that overpowered his common sense and helped to blind him from the awkward world that overstimulated his delicate senses.
How could she have bewitched me when she hasn’t even looked at me yet?
Dominic walked toward her slowly, waiting for her to make eye contact, waiting for her to notice his existence and, although she was human—that much he knew to be true—he had no desire to feed on her. It was as if her spell had turned him into a spineless jellyfish.
His eyes watched her curves and the way she laughed with her head back and her eyes twinkling. Time seemed to slow down. Her hair whipped around as her body moved harmoniously with the bull.
Somewhere in the background of the music and the patrons talking, Dominic heard a low voice.
“Something to drink?”
He heard, but he didn’t respond. His thoughts, his mind, his desire was preoccupied with the beautiful brown-haired goddess. He could hear her heartbeat above the noise—a steady, soothing rhythm that gave him temporary ease.
“Hey, buddy, something to drink?”
Dominic gritted his teeth, barely turning to look at the bartender. “I highly doubt you have what I require.” His voice was authoritative and belittling within those few simple words.
“We have a selection of over 150 beers. Trust me, if you want it, we got it.”
Dominic glanced and pointed toward the beer in the hand of the guy next to him. “One of those.” All he really needed was fresh blood but while he slipped hypnotically back into the visual stimulation of the woman on the mechanical bull, he’d pretend to be human and drink a bottle of beer.
The bartender slammed the German dark beer on the bar. “You want to start a tab?”
Dominic reached back and grabbed the beer, lifted it to his mouth, downed the beer and continued to stare at her.
“Hey, freak show. You want to start a tab? How are you going to pay?”
For only a minute, Dominic looked away from her and glared at the man behind the bar. “Do you mean to disrespect me with your annoying behavior?”
When he turned back, she was gone. Naturally, he would chase her. He saw it in her eyes, a kindred spirit, and in her aura, a familiarity. He couldn’t lose her now when all he wanted was to bask in her warmth.
Yet, he was weak, famished and needed food to build his strength. He stood completely still in front of the bar and searched the crowd for her. Dominic was spellbound by her and because of that, he almost didn’t feel the warm hand come down hard on his shoulder.
He turned to find two burly men were standing in front of him with their arms crossed over their chest waiting for the bartender to tell them what he wanted them to do next.
The bartender leaned closer and yelled above the jukebox, “We got a clown here who doesn’t want to pay.”
“I
only wish to be left in peace.”
“Too late for that, jackass.” The bartender motioned for the security guards to throw him out.
When the larger of the two security guards grabbed Dominic’s shoulder, he tensed up, stepped back, and flipped the guard onto his back while he held his wrist. In one swift movement, he stomped, crushed the man’s collarbone, and simultaneously broke his arm. The other security guard rushed to his comrade’s aid.
“Are you sons of whores prepared to die today? I will feas—”
“Nikko? Nikko Kollar?”
The sound of his name stopped him from releasing his blood-sucking beast upon the growing mob. He slowly turned to look toward the person who had addressed him.
Palo’s eyes were wide, astonished to see that his leader was alive. He glanced at the bartender and the guards. He knew he had to react fast or Dominic would turn and the bounty slayers would come.
“Nikko, it’s me. I told you I’d be right back.”
The noise and lights, the sounds and people cluttered Dominic’s thoughts. He recognized the vampire and after a few minutes of adjusting to the different form of clothing, hairstyle and stance, he remembered who he was. “Palo San Giorgio?” he whispered.
Palo smirked and shrugged as he glanced from the bartender to the guards who were glaring at him. “It’s just Palo, buddy. Let’s go.”
The bartender raised a bat in the air. “Hang on a minute, he broke my guy’s arm.”
Palo nervously reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. He thumbed through his money and handed the bartender what he hoped would smooth over the confrontation. “This should take care of it.”
“And the beer?”
Palo pulled out more money and threw it on the counter. “Here you go.” He grabbed Dominic by the shoulder and started for the door.
Two other security guards who had shown up from the back area moved in to stop them.
“Easy, boys,” Palo said. “He’s DOD.”
“Then why the fuck is he dressed like Benjamin Franklin?” The security guards separated and let them walk out the door without further confrontation.
The second that the night air hit them, Dominic dropped to his knees just outside the bar. He was weak and famished. He needed blood or his body would deteriorate back to the skeleton form that had swayed under the sea.
Palo leaned over and picked him up, wrapping Dominic’s arm over his shoulder. “Come on, get up. You need to eat. We’re going back to my place.”
Dominic pushed Palo away from him. Although he was weak, he tried to maintain his tough façade. “Enough! What year is it?”
“Two hundred years later.”
“The devil, you say?” He turned to address the people on the street. “I’m a Lord among you. Bow to me and show your allegiance, you cattle.”
“No, no, no,” Palo stepped toward Dominic. “Get back here, man. You look like a fool.”
“Be gone from me, traitor. I will find my own way in this world.”
Passersby laughed at Dominic, but he did not notice. What he did notice was a large black man with his girlfriend who walked hand in hand down the street.
Dominic addressed the man. “Slave, where might I find the nearest plantation? I am sure your master will…”
The black man cocked his head back, mumbled, “Oh, hell no,” and delivered a right hook, which knocked Dominic’s weakened body to the ground.