Fever

Ayanna:

Anger: A strong feeling of displeasure and usually of antagonism (2013, merriam webster dictionary)

I loved him from the first moment I saw him. It seems a little freakish because when I first saw him, he was only ten years old. I was over a hundred and he was ten, but it's true. From the moment I got a glimpse of those beautiful dark brown eyes of his and that beautiful dark chocolate skin, I was fixated. I knew this was the one I wanted for myself. However, I couldn't decide if he was human or vampire.

His mother and father I'd heard, were new to the community. They'd come up north to Chicago after the birth of their youngest because according to the gossip vine, they'd managed to rescue their child from Lilith, the mother demon of the shadows. I'd gone to check this family out, to see if they even look like warriors, and they didn't.

The mother and father both were tall and slender, with the mother fashionably updated. She looked like she belonged on the cover of a fashion magazine, with her hair done up in a ponytail of Shirley temple curls. Although the curls were out of date, she brought them back in with a pair of gold leafy earrings, that had a green gem nestled in the center of the leaf of each earring. She had on a matching dark green thermal cashmere sweater with a beautiful collard blouse sticking out of the top and bottom of the sweater. With this she had on a pair of stretch pants that fit her beautiful frame to a t.

The boots she had on were definitely hot, and I recognized them because I had a pair myself. They were a black leather pair with gold buckles accentuating the sides with a thick soled heel and a nice treading at the bottom. I smiled as I knew we would get along famously. She had a serious passion for fashion like I did.

The father looked debonair, like some ritzy guy with his nice tailored made clothing. I could tell he wasn't the sort to wear Jeans and T-Shirts, that the closest he'd come to dressing down was a dress shirt and slacks. I liked the neat way he presented himself; with his curly hair wiry all over his head, not looking messy but stylish in it's own way. His mustache was tapered and looking neat. His white dress shirt was neatly tucked into the waist band of his dress pants.

The sleeves settled comfortably at his wrists. He wore black dress pants I'm sure had been tailor made to fit him perfectly. His slender build gave a stylish, yet poised visual of him. Their other Two children, a young girl about thirteen and a young boy about six or seven years old were trailing behind the first three. The young boy was the spitting image of his father, with eyes the same color as his mother. He was carrying a football in hand, tossing it up and watching it come back down to fall in his hand.

He was a very cute young lad with a long and lean structure that gave him a look older than his years. Dark brown hair fell down into his eyes, keeping them away from my prying gaze. The boy's sister was almost as tall as the mother and looked as if she could have been her mother's twin; that's how much she favored her. She had a cd player in her hand and was listening to her music rather loudly. I frowned in disgust.

I didn't like any of the music they played now a days. It was too much racket. I stopped liking music after the nineteen fifties when Jazz and Blues began to shrink in popularity. My personal favorites were Nina Simone, Peggy Lee, Dorothy Dandridge And Sammy Davis Jr. I could rattle off a lot more, but that would be an exhaustive list.

As I watched him and his family go up to their new home, I knew that now was not the time to make my presence known. My father and I had heard all about the Wilheim clan and had even done some extensive research on them. They were not the type to approach unnoticed, unless you wanted to fight to the death.

Although I had no problems with protecting myself, it simply made no sense to stir up trouble when a woman didn't have to, so taking one last glance at the young boy as he entered the home first, I let out a small smile, allowing my thoughts to ponder what he may look like as an adult and then swiftly but stealthy made my exit.

~~

When leaving the Gregoire's home, after my final glimpse of the one they called Tavis, which in my opinion is a strange name, I made my way back to my own home. The two bedroom home I shared with my father and had now for the past five years that we'd resided in Washington Heights, a suburban area of Chicago, was on the opposite end of town where they lived. I liked the place we lived in because it wasn't a crowded area, nor was it completely in solitude. I hated being secluded off from civilization.

Mainly from humans since I fancied their life force. I'm not one of those vampires who fed off animals, or rodents or any other creature that wasn't human. I actually felt a connection with animals of the wild better than I did humans. After one hundred plus years, living as an immortal, I've discovered that humans were fun to play with, easy to entice, and eager to give their blood when it meant they had the chance of becoming a vampire. I had chosen to walk instead of run, because I didn't need to. I was in a great mood and my heart was filled with all sorts of emotion as I thought of my future mate. He'd been waited upon for a very long time. I smiled at the thought that my wait was finally over. I let out a little giggle and started singing very loudly, "To be loved...To be loved..."

"How cute." I heard a voice state, interrupting my playful banter. Unfortunately for the person who'd spoken, I just happen to choose the worse neighborhood in the city, which was an area of multiple ghetto housing developments to make my presence known. I came to an abrupt stop and noticed there was a guy propped up next to a brick building by an alley way. He was nonchalantly running a knife over the palm of his left hand. His dark hair had been cut in a short style and spiked. He was wearing an earring in his bottom lip and one in the eyebrow. Since I knew that the bottom one leaked the most blood, this one was the one he'd loose first. However, before that even happened I began running my hands up and down my arms, fearfully.

"What's a matter baby, you cold?" I heard a smooth voice fill my ear. I felt stupid. At-least that's what I told myself. If I was to put on a good performance, I needed to feign surprise, even if I'd been aware of the second guy who'd been behind me since the first one had spoken. I smelled him the moment I'd been brought out of my little sing song. My dad was always telling me that when ever I was distracted, it was completely, to a point where my surroundings did not matter, which he said that for a vampire was not good; and for a vampire who'd celebrated her seventeenth birthday for more than a hundred and twenty five times this past march, that was even worse. Especially since I didn't look a day over seventeen years. It would make me more vulnerable to these types of attacks. What could I say? When I was into something, I got completely immersed to the point of obsession. It wasn't like I was trying to, it was just that when I became intrigued, it was something consistent and on going for years, sometimes centuries.

Anyhow, now, here I stood caught in a trap, at least that's what it appeared to be. Oh God, what's a girl to do! I thought sarcastically, Cry out for help? This was exactly what I did. "Help! help!" I shouted. Damn I was good.

"Nobody can hear you sweet thang..." He stated as he pushed his body up against mine. I was appalled at the hard on he was sporting, which I could feel through the back of the dress I was wearing. A blue jean twill jacket had been chosen to complete the ensemble. Although it was cold enough to freeze water after less than thirty minutes of being in this weather, I always wore dresses.

Today I was wearing a thick black dress made from a combination of wool and cotton that cinched at the hips and flared out at the bottom, which I might say looked nice on my full figure. I was a big girl, but not in flabby, fat big. I was big as in thick bones, a lot of muscle mass and built like, how shall I put it nicely? A curvaceous woman. My hips, and thighs were firm, while my butt was round, plump and succulent, and I always, always had a problem with men rubbing up against me or touching me. I couldn't figure out what made them want to be so disgusting. My dad said it's because I was beautifully made.

However, my thickness did not create problems moving around when I needed to.

As the guy behind me put a hand over my throat, and I felt a pointed object at my stomach, I gulped and whispered, "Mr. You don't want to do this." He gave off a sharp laugh.

"Sexy accent sweet heart, where you from?" The guy in front of me inquired as he looked at us from his position.

I whispered, helplessly frightened, "Please...please, I'll give you what ever you want." I immediately shrank back as I felt the guy holding me tongue slide along the outside of my ear. He was a rapist too? I felt my anger beginning to stir. I could always rely on my anger when I needed it. It never failed me in times like this. I felt my adrenaline flow hard. "It's good to know that you are eager to please sweet heart." The guy by the wall stated. Tears began to run down my face as I begged for them not to hurt me. Just for measure I told them that I wouldn't speak to anyone what was happening. The guy nudged me in the hip with the sharp object he carried and whispered, " we know you wont be doing that."

"As a matter of fact, you wont be doing much of anything after tonight, sweetheart." The other guy stated. I groaned, seeming to resign to my fate. The young guy instructed me to go behind the alley and stand on the wall, while the other guy posed as look out. I whimpered as I was thrown against the brick wall of a building and the guy forced me to spread my legs by kicking both my feet apart.

A sharp inhalation of breath was heard as he stated, "Damn baby girl!" I rolled my eyes, waiting for him to begin the flirtatious trail with the point of the knife around the bottom of my skirt. I let out another whimper, knowing that he was eating it all up. He really was convinced that I was helpless. I waited till he pulled my skirt up before I began, to cry a final time, this time managing to sound and look desperate as he pressed my face against the surface of the building. I begged him to stop. As I did, the look out stated, "hurry up man so I can have my turn."

"Shut up and handle your business, while I take care of mine." my attacker stated. I listened as his pants unzipped, the sound loud in my sensitive ears. I then took my turn to exit the situation as I quickly turned around and laughed. Remember how I told you guys I liked playing with humans? This is how I play. I fall into script, which at this moment was a helpless maiden and then, when unexpected, and seeming less harmless, I pounce on my victim for what I really want while they, usually the males scream helplessly, which this guy would soon enough be doing. He opened his mouth to scream, but I quickly placed my hand on his chest, silencing him, as well as bounding him to the ground that he stood on. I'd simply placed a curse on him with one touch.

The other guy who looked off in the direction in front of him didn't notice as I came up behind him. By the time he glanced up, I'd already sank my teeth into the pulsating vein above his collar bone. As I drained him of his blood, he stood paralyzed, feeling but not being able to move. Once I was finished taking the blood I wanted, I licked his neck, releasing a healing property to seal up the bite mark. He would not be sure as to whether or not this had been reality or a dream. I sighed as I thought of being able to slowly drain his life force without making a huge mess.

I turned from him, to the other guy and whispered, "Death be in thy shadows, death be in thy wake, I wish to hold thee close so that I may take. Thy dreams be quick, thy dreams be profound, not understanding, but being held bound." This guy would confuse reality with fiction during his sleeping hours to a point where he'd be prone to insomnia. I knew with a surety that no longer would he be raping and pillaging other women, but instead succumb to nightmares so rich, they'd keep him awake weeping. I smiled at this thought. It served him right for being able to do the things he'd done for as long as he had.

~~

The area I stayed in with my father was suburban. It was an area of the town that was quiet and held many households with one parent incomes, but those parents were making a median amount of income. You couldn't live here unless you did. The walk from down town Chicago to my side of town was a good thirty minutes.

Full now due to the events that had taken place during my evening stroll, I walked up onto the porch and tried the knob. It twisted open. This told me that my father was indeed home tonight. I walked into our home and let out a loud sigh. Pulling the door closed, I yelled, "You won't believe this dad!"

There was no response. I went through the house calling his name. Finally, I found him in the downstairs cellar, sitting in the dark on one of the sofas we'd put down there. "Dad?"

"Ayanna."

"Is everything alright?" I inquired, going over to the dinner table that I knew had a candle stick holder that I was sure held at-least ten candles on it.

"Everything's fine Ayanna. I'm just mulling over a few facts. The internet has become highly resourceful these days." He stated.

"You don't say?"

"Yes, I do say."

"And what's the point of this revelation?"

He sighed, "I think I found him."

Immediately, my previous discovery went to the back of my mind and the animosity that was always held back came to the forefront. I didn't need a name, just a residence. "Where?"

"I believe he's to be living under the Pseudonym Mark Gius. His place of residence is in Iowa."

"Typical of a criminal." I spat, speaking of the name change.

"However, before anything can be done, I must go to confirm that this is indeed Caduceus."

I felt the hair on the back of my neck stand up at the mention of Caduceus Pontius, the Roman General who had stalked our family for decades.

It all started with my great grandmother, Aneema. Caduceus Pontius had shown an interest in her, however, she'd been forbidden to marry outside of her race; and to Caduceus Pontius, one of the worst generals in the history of our African Continent was a huge no. It was thought that Caduceus Pontius had forgotten about her because he went back to his homeland of Rome. However, after I was born, he returned back to Africa.

Remarkably he held the same features he'd left with. He stayed out of our hair until I turned ten and then it was during this time that he approached my mother for my hand. My mother told him no, appalled at the idea that he would even be attracted to someone as young as myself, but more so at the idea of me, her African daughter, married off to a Roman who had been stalking our family since my great grandmother was born. He left us alone that day but as I got older, I started to feel as though I was being shadowed, my every movement watched. He had the audacity to corner me on a road to the local school in the village I lived in with my family, and demand in our native tongue that I come with him. I told him no.

At the time I was sixteen years old. I told him that I was not interested in him. He was older than I, at-least thirty. I didn't have anything against his age because girls my age often married men his age, but it was just that I was intrigued with someone else. Another boy my age, in my class. My refusal did not stop his advances. He continued to try to persuade me, meeting me on that road everyday for a year. On my seventeenth birthday, he met me on that road one last time to ask me to marry him. After my decline, his eyes began to glow a bright red, making them stand out against the short tapered cut he wore. I still remember the chills that coursed my spine that day. I was so scared that I began to tremble with fear. He grabbed me by my hips and pulled me closer to him. As if being in a dance, he twirled me around, along the road. With eyes hot as anger, he stated, "I have a lot that I can offer you. Clothing, education, a pampered life, full of rich indulgence. You can have anything you want."

My gaze drifted away from him as for a second I was tempted. In my village, my people struggled a bit. Although we weren't far from Carthage we often times were subjective to poverty, and this is what caused that waver in my thoughts, even if it was for the briefest of seconds, but then the disgust over marrying someone like him, a roman who pillaged our village and raided our lands made me sick. I knew without doubt that should I accept, my life would be that of ownership and to expect anything less would be out of the ordinary. "No." I stated. My eyes hardened at the idea of being his slave. Everyone knew with a Roman General that the wife was in full servitude to her spouse and knowing I would not be able to last with him, I refuted adamantly.

"Are you sure, Ayanna?"

I could feel the anger that welled up in him, for it made me tremble with cowardice, nothing I'd admit to him. Not that I needed to. "I'm sure." I stated, my tone even and sincere.

He stared me in the eyes, as if trying to yield me, but I held my ground. My answer remaining firm in my mind. I could feel the pull of his mind to mine. I quickly whispered a prayer my grandmother had taught me. He immediately broke contact and his features filled with a deep grin, "Impressive, Ayanna." I tried to pull away from him, the effort futile. He loosened his grip on my arm and I was all to aware of my arm slipping through his hand. He cleared his throat, "It's not wise for you to reject me in this manner Ayanna."

"I don't like you, Caduceus."

"Not even if I could offer you the world?" He inquired.

I shook my head no. He let my arm go, allowing it to fall to my side. "I'll see you later little Ayanna." He stated, his gaze still burning hot in mine. I stared at him, unable to take my eyes away. He cleared his throat. "You are free to go."

I felt the weight of his arrival leave me and everything was luminous again. I was able to break his gaze and with one last look at him, I turned and walked toward the school I was in.

~~

Eleven months later:

My parents and I breathed a sigh of relief the day that Caduceus told us he was leaving. It was the best news yet that he wouldn't be back over to our village for a long time. We were glad that he was gone, not to bother us again. It was the night before my eighteenth birthday. I was set to marry Dakarai, a man older than I well established in our community, but closer to my age at 24. His family had a home built out of straw and bamboo wood. There were four rooms in the home outside of the kitchen and the living area. While this may not mean much in this world, back in my world it was a lot.

My family had closed up our home for the night, a two bedroom house. They'd shut the windows, closed the doors and blew out all the candles so that we could all go to bed. My mother had made me two new gowns, both colorful. One with green and yellow stripes in a pattern, the other white with pink flowers on it. This one, she'd stated was for my wedding ceremony.

We had been in bed for a while. I had dosed off to sleep, excited about tomorrow and what it would bring, when I was awakened by loud rustling in the living room. I got up and went into the living area. My eyes were wide with fear when I saw my father being attacked and my mother laying on the ground, blood pooling around her from the base of her head. Panicking, I stood there frozen, until I heard my father's body hit the left wall of the shack. I turned to run and as I did, I felt arms grab a hold of my waist. I cried no and began digging into Caduceus's skin as hard as I could. He let out a hard laugh, "Little Ayanna, I gave you a chance but you didn't take it."