The Ultimate Vampire Resource and Directory

I watched as Ioan’s tiny body shrank in the distance, hating myself for not taking him with me to Rome. That little boy was my whole life, and yet I was leaving him in a situation in which his precious little life was in jeopardy.

Tears stung my eyes, obscuring my vision. I turned around and stared at the opposite wall of the carriage. I would not allow myself to cry. I had to remain strong through all this.

Sighing, I took one last look at my beloved Ireland, with its rolling hills, blue skies, and lush green grass. Oh, how very different Rome was going to be.



* * *



Great, beautiful structures loomed on either side of me. The streets were crowded with all sorts of beautiful people. This was Rome.

Rome was beautiful, but I longed for Ireland. I longed for the rolling green hills, friendly people, and the pub on every street. But what I wanted the most was to be back home with my dear little Ioan.

The carriage stopped in front a great white building. Shaking uncontrollably, I opened the curtain and stepped out into the blinding sun.

I was met by servants getting my things for me. I was about to say that I could handle it when a man came out. He looked to be about a foot taller than I, had jet black hair, and shocking green eyes.

This man walked right up to me, took my hand, and kissed it. He looked down and smiled at me. Something wasn’t quite right about him.

“You must be Nessa. I am Marius. Unfortunately, I was not blessed with an uncommon name such as you have been. These fine men,” he gestured to the two men whom were holding my things, “will show you to your room.”

The men smiled warmly. I liked these two. They appeared perfectly harmless. Marius, on the other hand, frightened me. He seemed like the kind of man who would beat a woman to make himself feel more like a man. No wonder my father had liked him.

I smiled at the two men who would be showing me to my room. They started toward the building and I realized that this was Marius’ home. I followed, suddenly wanting nothing more than to lie down for a while.

I was led up a flight of stairs and down a great hall to a big, beautiful room. The bed in it alone must have been the size of my bedroom back in Ireland. There was a fire already lit in the fireplace, as though they’d known when I would be arriving. There was a little vanity desk where I could do my hair in the mornings. The bed was huge with its four posters and curtains for privacy.

Two doors led out to a balcony where I could watch the sun set each evening. The room was amazing, to put it bluntly. I laughed and jumped onto the bed. This place was amazing!

“If you require anything at all, just let one of us know.”

Laughing, I sat up. Maybe coming to Rome wasn’t so bad after all.

“Yes, I will make sure to do that. Thank you. Tell Marius that I will be down after a while.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

The two left me to myself. I had come up here, wanting to lie down, but it suddenly did not matter to me. I wanted to laugh and cry and scream all at once. It was nice being away from my father, but I feared greatly for Ioan.

I lay down, closing my eyes. Sure, I loved being in Rome and away from all the responsibilities at home, but what about Ioan? Was he having to deal with the wrath of my father, or was my father taking it elsewhere? Who was tucking him in at night or singing old songs to him or telling him stories by the fire at night? Better yet, was anyone doing these things for him?

There was a slight knock on my door. Sighing, I sat up. Marius was standing in the doorway, holding a glass of wine in each hand. He smiled and came in, sitting beside me and handing me a glass of wine. Marius sipped his wine, gesturing to my face. He set down his glass.

“What happened to your face?”

Embarrassed, I looked away. What was I supposed to say? I fell? Yeah, like he’d believe that bold faced lie.

“My father is what happened.”

He fell silent, picking up his wine and sipping it. It was a while before he spoke.

“What warranted the beating?”

I sighed and looked at him. He seemed to truly care about this. But, what I was about to say was going to sound really bad and probably offend him.

“This is going to sound really bad, but I told him that I did not want to marry when he told me I was to marry you.”

Marius laughed, sipping his wine. Avoiding looking at him, I sipped mine as well. It was no whiskey, but it was good. Sweet. I missed the old familiar burn of whiskey.

“That was bad.”

He sighed and stood up, walking out onto the balcony. I felt terrible. I had offended him. It was unintentional, but I had done it none the less. I followed him out onto the balcony. I had to apologize to him. My conscience wouldn’t let me be until I had.

“I am sorry. I did not mean to offend you. It is just…well…I vowed not to marry until Ioan was old enough to where he no longer needed me anymore.”

Marius sighed and put an arm around me. He sipped his wine…again. Slowly he dropped his arm and turned to me.

“Who is this O-in?”

“Ioan is my five year old brother. Our mother died after giving birth to him, and I take care of him. I did not mean to offend you.”

Marius laughed and looked out toward the setting sun. The two of us sat in silence, watching the sun set. I sighed. The setting sun had always been beautiful. I loved the way it turned the sky orange, then a dark pink, and finally purple.

“You love him very much, do you not?” He looked at me, his face seeming almost sad, as though he’d been in the past for a while.

“Yes, I would die without Ioan. I am frightened for him. What if my father turns his rage on Ioan, and I am not there to stop him??”

I fought the tears that threatened to come as I thought about how helpless Ioan was against my father. Lord God, he was only five years old and could not defend himself! I drew a shaky breath to calm myself before this got out of control.

“Ioan will be fine, I am sure of it. Relax and have fun while you are here.”

I nodded slowly as he kissed my forehead. It was odd that he did this after knowing me not even half a day yet, but I figured it was just Roman custom.

Marius looked down at me as he slowly sipped his wine. I did not like how he was looking at me. He was looking at me as though I were a meal or something. Whatever it was, I didn’t like it.

I looked away, unsure of what to say or do next. Awkward silences. I hate them. It just makes you feel uncomfortable around the person.

Marius turned my face toward his and kissed me. I jumped back, away from him.

“I-I am sorry, but I hardly think that kind of behavior is proper if you do not know the person.”

I took a step back, trying to put as much distance between myself and Marius as possible. For every step I took back though, he took two forward. Soon I had backed myself against the building.

“Ah, but what better way to get to know a person than in bed?”

He moved to kiss me again, but I turned my head to the side. I felt his breath against my cheek as he laughed, smelled the wine on his breath.

I closed my eyes. I felt sick. The longer he stood there like that, the sicker I felt. I knew the only way to get rid of this feeling was to get him the hell away from me.

He licked my throat and something in me snapped. Furious, I pushed him back, throwing my wine in his face. My father may have been a cruel man, but he raised me better than that.

I moved away from him, going back into my room. Still angry, I threw some cloth at him for him to clean the wine off of his face.

“I will have you know that I do not appreciate being man-handled! If you touch me so without my permission to do so again, I will rid you of your manhood.”

Marius laughed as he gingerly wiped at his face with the cloth, his own wine forgotten on the balcony. He tucked the cloth into his pocket and looked up at me.

“Point made. I apologize for my actions here tonight. Ah, but I do love it when you are angry. I had not thought it possible for you to be any more beautiful, until I saw you angry here tonight.”

I glared at him and backed away, not trusting the look in his eyes.

“Flattery gets you everything, except with me.”

Outraged, I pointed to the door. Marius laughed and shook his head. For a split second I feared that he would not leave. But my fears were quickly extinguished when he walked out the door, leaving it carelessly thrown open.

Furious at him and myself for thinking I could trust him, I marched over and slammed the door closed. If he touched me again, I was certain that not only would I rid him of his manhood, but I would murder him as well.

“Father is home! Father is home!”

My little brother ran into the house, laughing and jumping up and down with joy. I smiled and hugged him, ignoring how my breath had caught in my throat the moment I’d learned of my father’s return.

My father had been in Rome on business, selling more of his paintings. To tell the truth, I did not want him to be home already. For once he was home, it meant that our latest argument would continue, as well as the smack across the face, being thrown into my bedroom door and a fist in my hair as I tried to walk away.

“Ioan, I want you to go play outside, ok? Father and I need to talk.”

Ioan ran out to the backyard, seconds before father walked through the door. Immediately I knew something was up. I saw it in how he carried himself, in the way he looked at me the moment he had walked through the door.

I stood, preparing myself for what was about to come. Prepared myself for the inevitable battle.

“Nessa, you will be glad to know that I have found a husband for you in Rome. You leave tomorrow to meet him.”

What? A husband in Rome? I could not believe what I was hearing! As calmly as I could, I smiled.

“What? I thought I told you that I was not going to marry. Ioan needs me.”

My father’s face changed. He was trying desperately to keep his anger under control.

“You are going to marry, whether you want it or not, Nessa.”

My hands shook as I balled them into fists, my fury at my father continuing to grow. I was not going to marry, and that was the end of it. He would just have to learn to deal with it.

“How dare you decide my fate for me! I am not a child!”

His open palm struck my face. I didn’t even blink. I was used to it by now. Staring him coldly in the eyes, I turned and started for my bedroom. At least in there he couldn’t hit me again.

I was stopped by a hand grabbing a fistful of my hair and pulling me back. My father threw me onto the chair, rage radiating from his powerful figure.

“You will not walk away from me when I am talking to you!”

His fist struck my face, knocking me onto the floor. I lay there, blood dripping from my lip onto the floor. His foot connected with my stomach, knocking the breath out of me.

As I lay there, I could only think of one thing. That Ioan did not see this. Father could beat me as much as he wanted, so long as Ioan never heard or saw any of it.

I let my father kick and hit me repeatedly. The less I decided to fight back, the less severe the beating would be. I had discovered that little hint a long time ago…the hard way, but I learned it.

Black spots began to form in front of my eyes, obscuring my vision. I think I may have reached out for something, anything, but I’m not entirely sure that I did. I may not have reached out at all. I remember thinking about it, thinking that I had to stop him before he killed me.

I heard screaming and I knew that Ioan had come in. Little hands tore at me, trying to get a response out of me. But, I couldn’t move or speak or breathe. And it seemed that the more I tried, the more I couldn’t do anything.

The last thing I heard before I lost consciousness was Ioan’s little voice, crying my name.

“Nessie, please do not die. Please.”



* * *

When I awoke a few hours later, Ioan was laying beside me in my bed, his little head on my shoulder. My whole body ached. I ached in places I didn’t know a person could possibly ache in.

Carefully I shifted to look out my window. It was nighttime. How long had I been out? I looked down to find that Ioan was fast asleep. I smiled. He looked just like an angel.

Trying desperately not to wake him, I kissed his forehead. In the entire world, Ioan was the only person that I truly cared about. He was five and would only listen to me. He was my little angel.

I was the closest thing he had to a mother. Our mother had died shortly after giving birth to Ioan. As for our father, he was rarely home. And when he was, this was what would happen.

Ioan was the spitting image of our mother, as was I. We both had red hair, which turned auburn in the winter, oddly enough and blue-green eyes. Neither of us looked anything like our father.

I sighed, letting my head drop back on the pillow. Why did father treat me so? Anymore I couldn’t even go for a five minute walk without him questioning me. He was convinced that I was the county whore.

Ioan stirred and sat up. His big blue-green eyes shone with unshed tears as he looked at me.

“Nessie!”

He threw his arms around me and hugged me so tight I thought he would crush me. I hugged him back as tightly as I could, which wasn’t very tight at all.

“Did you sleep alright, sweetie?” I kissed his fair cheek.

Ioan began to cry and I hated my father fort his. I hugged him again, fighting not to cry myself. I hated seeing Ioan cry. It always made me cry.

Gingerly I sat up, smiling. He lay his head on my shoulder, the way all five year olds do when they are upset. I gently rubbed his back, soothing him.

“Shhh…I am fine, Ioan. I look worse than I feel. Who brought me in here?”

Still crying, Ioan lifted his head and looked at me with those big, blue-green, wondrous eyes of his.

“The nice man next door. Father is gone.”

Smiling, I wiped away his tears. It hurt to move, but I couldn’t let him see that. I had to be strong for him.

The man in the house next to ours was Roman. He must have heard Ioan crying and came to see if everything was alright. I would have to stop by and give him my thanks when I wasn’t in so much pain.

“Where did father go, Ioan?”

Ioan shrugged and hugged me once more, laying his head on my shoulder again. I hugged him and began rocking him to sleep. Once he was asleep, I would get up and find a mirror.

It didn’t take long for Ioan to fall back asleep. The poor little guy was exhausted mentally and emotionally. He’d been witness to something he never should have been exposed to.

I carefully lay him next to the wall, covering him with the blanket. Clenching my teethe against the pain, I stood, using the dresser to steady myself, waiting patiently for the room to stop spinning.

Now that I was standing, the pain didn’t seem all that bad. Then again, I hadn’t yet begun to move. I smiled wryly. If there was a God, he hated me.

I very slowly made my way out of my bedroom and to the washroom. I would have moved faster, but I could scarcely breathe, let alone move.

Once in the washroom, I lit a candle and held it up to my face. The only evidence, on my face anyway, that I had been beat was a cut on my bottom lip and a bruise just beneath my left eye.

I had the sudden terrible feeling that my father would be returning soon. Not wanting yet another confrontation with him tonight, I started back for my bedroom as quickly as I could.

Ioan lay there, sound asleep. I smiled. He looked like a little angel, laying there with the moon shining on his face so. It was a pity that I had to leave him here with father in the morning.

The poor guy would have no one there to protect him from my drunken father in the middle of the night. Tears stung my eyes as I lay next to him. I lived for Ioan. If I did not have Ioan there, then I would have died a long time ago.

I gently kissed his plump little cheek, my heart breaking for him. If I did end up marrying this guy, what would come of Ioan? I certainly could not leave him with that wretched father of ours.

Closing my eyes, I decided that if I were to marry, Ioan would come with me. He was not to be left with that monster of a man.

“Why do I have to wake her? She’s going to be pissed…” Stefan eyed the crypt cautiously.

“Because Chimaera and I voted and you lost.” Clara smiled sweetly.

“Besides, you’re the dumb fuck who did this. You’re the reason she went down there.” Chimaera put her hands on her hips and glared at Stefan.

Stefan sighed and started down the stairs. Nessa would be furious. He was certain she’d murder him for this once she’d risen. Nessa did not like being disturbed during these periods. He’d learned that one a long time ago.

He smiled when he saw the posters of all the “rock gods” throughout the years. Rock had been around longer than humans believed. Not the rock of this era, but it was definitely rock.

It was the kind of music that turned everything upside down. Went against the grain. The kind that allegedly turned children against their own parents. It was all just gossip, really. The only thing that turns children against parents is parents. Not music.

As he went deeper into the earth, he found artifacts from Egypt before it was called Egypt. There were old paintings of Caesar, Cleopatra, Bach, all sorts of historical figures.

The smell of jasmine and sandalwood reached him and he knew he was drawing nearer to where she slept. As long as he’d known her, she’d always loved the exotic scent of jasmine and sandalwood.

There was her elegant, petite coffin in the center of a candle lit room. Clearly there was a mortal who came during the day who restocked her candles and incense.

Carefully, he opened the lid to her coffin. She lay inside, her auburn hair fanned out on the pillow under her head. He swallowed.

“Nessa, wake up. I have a song for you,” he whispered. If he sang her favorite Christmas carol in French while waking her, she wouldn’t murder him right off. That was another thing he had learned that was of great importance when waking her.

“Il est ne le devin enfant. Jouez haut-bois resonnez musettes.”

Nessa slowly began to stir. He knelt beside her coffin and continued the song.

“Il est ne le devin enfant. Chanton tous son evenement.”

By the time the song ended, Nessa’s deep blue-green eyes had opened. Stefan smiled apologetically and took hold of her hand.

“Stefan DuPont, you have thirty seconds to explain to me why you have woken me, starting now.” Her eyes full of sleep and anger, she sat up and looked at him.

“Well, um, Clara and Chimaera are upstairs, waiting for you. They put me up to this.”

Nessa sighed and smoothed her hair. He stood and lifted her out of her coffin. Nessa walked over to a dresser on the far wall and began searching for clothes.

“What year is it?”

“It is November of 2005.”

She pulled out jeans and a t-shirt, socks, a bra and underwear and a hoodie. Despite the fact that he was standing right there, she undressed and began putting on the clothes she had chosen.

Stefan turned around respectively. He shook his head. Either she trusted him more than she let on, or she wasn’t modest anymore. He figured it was probably the first.

“You can turn back around now. I’m just putting on my shoes.”

He turned back around and watched as she put on Stiletto’s. Why on earth she wore those, he wished he knew. It only made men stare at her as she walked down the street.

Nessa swept up her hair in a clip and started for the stairs, her hips swaying seductively. Smiling and shaking his head, he joined her, putting an arm around her protectively.

“So, how’s life been without me?” Her Irish accent brought a faint smile to his lips. Oh, how he loved the Irish.

“It’s been dull, Irish. Listen, I’m sorry about, well, you know…It was selfish and egotistical of me.”

Nessa put an arm around him and smiled. She loved it when he apologized. Usually some sort of lavish gift followed once they were alone.

“Don’t worry about it, love. What’s done is done. All you can do is move on and forget about it.”

They turned the corner and the conversation ended. Clara and Chimaera hugged her, all of them smiling and laughing.

Nessa stepped back and crossed her arms over her chest. He put an arm around her once more and kissed the top of her head,

“So, why have you two woken me this time?” She smiled at the looks on Clara’s and Chimaera’s faces.

“Because there’s someone who wants to talk to the Twisted Trio. He’s just across the street.”

Stefan steered her towards the hotel across the street. Nessa went reluctantly, her eyes going straight to a window on the second story overlooking the street. She didn’t like this.

* * *

The room smelt of cigarette smoke, liquor, sweat and too much cologne. It made her sick just to be in there. Smiling politely, she sat next to Stefan.

Stefan was sure to make it known that she was off the market by kissing her the moment she sat down. He didn’t like how the guy was looking at Chimaera and Clara either, but there wasn’t really anything he could do about them. Then again, maybe there was something.

“So, when are you two going to see Etienne again?” He looked at them as though to say “Just go with it.”

“Um, in a couple hours, actually.”

The guy backed off immediately and Nessa moved closer to him. He got out a tape recorder and looked at Nessa.

“You may begin your story.”

Sausha is standing by the Student Center, surrounded by a few of our closest friends. Katelynn is by my side, headed towards our first period class, as I usually do with her. As I draw nearer to Sausha, I see that she is greatly upset by something. Fear grips my heart in its icy fist. Has something happened to Pyper?

I can now hear people comforting Sausha, see them hug her. She merely stands there and let’s them do it, only hugging back occasionally. My heart begins to beat faster and faster, the realization that something was terribly wrong hitting me like a bolt out of the blue. Trying to keep calm, I approach Sausha.

“Sausha, is everything ok?” I ask.

Sausha merely looks at me as yet another person wraps her in a tight embrace. I hear someone whispering next to me that they hope the family is going to be ok. That’s when I realize that it’s Pyper. Pyper had died. I knew it. But, I had to hear it from Sausha.

“Pyper died yesterday.” Sausha’s voice shakes with each word, her words quiet, barely audible unless you were to listen carefully.

My heart stops. Pyper died? I knew she was sick, but exactly how sick, I never knew. Pyper had been diagnosed with leukemia, and was now dead at the mere age of nine (to be changed…not sure of exact age.)

Almost instantly I hug Sausha, fighting not to cry. I couldn’t cry now. Not when Sausha needed me most. She had always been there for me, and now it was time for me to be there for her. I refused to let her down.

The bell rings and we all have to go to class now. The only thing keeping me from losing it now is the fact that I really need to concentrate on my schoolwork. That is the only thing that keeps my emotions under control.

Throughout the day I find myself spacing in class and beginning to think of Pyper. When this happens, I merely pinch myself; give myself something to focus on other than Pyper. I return to my work, and act as though nothing is wrong. That is how I get through the day.

Even after school, I do not cry. I do my homework, and keep myself busy so that I do not think of Pyper. Probably not exactly a healthy way to handle it, but I did it because it was the only thing I knew how to do at the moment, so, that’s what I did.

The phone rings and I check the caller id. It’s my dad calling to tell me that he won’t be home for a little while longer; his business in town is taking longer than he expected. As soon as I open my mouth, he knows something is wrong.

“What’s bugging you, Emmy?” He asks, his forever strong, reassuring voice full of concern.

I tell him Pyper is dead, and he tells me how sorry he is, but he has to go, because his boss is back in the room and he will talk to me later. As soon as I hang up, I begin to cry. I had been able to stay calm all day, and then my dad calls and I shatter.

Unable to go back to my homework, I stare blankly out the window, tears silently rolling down my cheeks. How could this happen to such a sweet little girl? As long as I’d known Pyper, she’d been the sweetest, cutest little girl you could ever meet. And now she was gone.

I sighed wearily and returned to my homework. Though I had just lost someone I’d loved dearly, I had to go on with my life. I couldn’t wallow in my self-pity or grief for the dead. I had to move on, because over the next few months, Sausha would need me.

So, now you know about the one little girl in my life that I really truly loved, and slipped away from me. I can’t help but think that maybe if I had done something, anything, Pyper would still be alive today.