The Private Diaries of Antoinette Part II

by Guest Sat Mar 21, 2009 3:38 am

Antoinette's Diaries Part II

November 2005 – My Embrace

This was it. No more talks. No more preparations. No more negotiations. I was signing on the dotted line. It was as informed a decision as I could possibly make. I’d asked every question I could think of; what it was like to be a vampire, what we ate and how, did we ever die, what the Invictus was all about, how would other vampires treat me… Patiently Quinton answered all my questions and offered me more information.

He told me the Invictus was a powerful, ancient group that would protect me and support me as the Lord I was born to be, in all the endeavors I chose to follow. He explained one didn’t start on the top as there were many important lessons to learn, and an eternity to learn them. So I had to have patience. And I had to learn to respect him. Looking back now, I remember laughing and cuddling him closer at those moments, oblivious to his warnings. He’d always smile back at me in a most patronizing way, biding his time, I suppose.

And, I’m still not sure how one falls so desperately in love with someone so quickly. I guess there’s just something about him that is meant for me. Maybe that’s what they call a “soul mate”. Well, I do love him, and I am utterly devoted to him. But I certainly didn’t win the lottery of soul mates.

My embrace happened privately, as he explained to me there was in-fighting happening within the Kindred population of the city and it would not be safe to create a new life publicly with so much violence taking place. We leased a flat to serve as my “haven” so that I could be closer to him, but still have my studio and independence. I would not be able to leave the flat until the fighting was over, so he urged me to chose carefully. I found a gorgeous penthouse that met my needs and had it decorated to suit my style.

Before the “big night”, Quinton took the time to go over what I’d need to know. What the Masquerade was and why it was critical never to break it. How deadly sun would be to me. How I would eventually hunt and feed (for now, food would be brought in for me as I could not leave my apartments) and so forth. Quinton kept everything light, and the lessons were fun, but I was scared shitless of what was coming. He said it would hurt a bit – I wasn’t so worried about that, but I was afraid of dying. A small part of me was afraid he might not be who he said he was, and not really be able to save me.

The night came. No turning back now, girl. If it works, it means forever with Quinton. Eternity. How many people get that chance with the person they love? Adore? Worship?

He took me to the basement at his place, where he told me we’d have complete privacy. The décor was done exquisitely, and it sounded as if there were soundproofing, as everything was extremely quiet and dense.

There was an elaborate old gothic chair, almost throne-like, and a long, dark oak table. He had me sit in the chair and started the ceremony. First, I swore to uphold the traditions of Longinus – I had already been studying the book he had given me. Then, I swore fealty through him, my Sire, to my new Liege, His Highness, Freddrick, Prince of Sacramento. This was incredibly odd. Being an American, I have no concept of swearing an oath of fealty or having a monarch. But now I do. It’s kind of fun, and very serious business, all at the same time. Finally, I had to swear to honor my Sire and the Invictus in all things. This I did happily. I wasn’t quite sure what it meant to swear my honor to the covenant, but I gladly gave my honor to Quinton.

He then smiled at me, helped me slip off my clothes until I was totally naked (this, he told me, symbolized the death of my “mortal identity”. I told him a couple guys in college had tried that line on me too. He hadn’t seemed amused at all so I banished it from my mind so I wouldn’t giggle.) Quinton then gently picked me up and laid me out on the table. It was cold, but my adrenaline was so jacked up, I wasn’t feeling much of anything at all.

I knew what was coming next. The bite. He told me I could choose where I preferred it, especially since we were doing this privately, and I guess I could have been more creative, but I chose my neck. I love the feeling of his lips caressing me there, the way it makes my skin tickle and tingle, the way his jaw molds perfectly to my jaw bone and collarbone, like he was meant for that spot, and when he finally pierces the skin, the way the muscles tense and ache at the indignation of his teeth. The warm heat that spreads through my neck and shoulders, down my back and breast. And the searing wave of life that quickly exits as he draws my life from me.

Before, when we had played at this, he had taken little tastes and licks. But this time he wasn’t stopping. My blood continues to split and I am getting woozier than shit. Quinton warned me to eat lots of protein and carbs during the day, but it’s not helping one bit. My vision is staring and tunnels, and finally I’m blacking out completely. I can hear him call my name, but it’s so distant, I can’t call back. And I don’t really care to. My heart feels like lead. Is this it? Am I dying? I “am” dying. I begin to feel panicky. Is this really going to work? Can he really save me? What an idiot I was. He’s probably some lunatic that will make a coat out of my skin or something. The words of that crazy song come pouring into my mind from nowhere…“It puts the lotion on its skin or else it gets the hose again…” I try desperately to move and wake myself up when I feel his blood hit my tongue and throat.

It sears the tissues of my esophagus like I’m drinking Drano. But I can feel it dragging my dying body back to life, cell by cell by cell. I’m getting greedier; my body is crying out for this stuff and I can’t get it down my throat fast enough! It feels like I drink from him for hours, I’m sure it was only minutes, but eventually he pulls away. And I feel him cover me in the dark shroud we made together for this purpose. And he laid things by my covered body while I rest. It takes me a while to come to, but when I do I’m reminded of the symbolism. My head rests on the book of Longinus, reminding me this dark curse comes from God. The scepter he laid at my right represents power, law and rulership. The sword he laid at my left represents the Invictus’ martial power, when the law and tradition fail us. The Invictus shield across my chest, reminds me the covenant is my protection, and in turn I must protect it. And finally, he laid a skull at my feet, for when I woke, I would forever walk in the path of death, along with him.

It took me a while to come out of it. I felt so groggy and sick. But eventually Quinton’s powerful blood worked its dark charm and I slowly sat up to his smiling face. He lifted the black cloak off my shoulders, reversed it and draped a regal purple cloak over me in its stead. The color of royalty. His new Childe. His Princess. He gave me a long kiss and asked me to rise, which I did, though a little unsteadily. And he said in a quiet, emotional whisper “Rise, Antoinette Coeur de Lion, Lord among Kindred, Master of Kine. Only Childe of Baron Quinton Jones, Architect of Sacramento. Childe of Marcus Cartwright, Architect of Salem. Childe of Shri Wy Fan, Prince of Kapaau.”

It was like a birth and a christening and a sweet 16 and a graduation and a wedding, all rolled up into one. I felt like crying, but I couldn’t – it was the oddest sensation I’d ever felt. Well, right next to the sensation of the most hungry and thirsty I’d ever been in my life. I knew the lineage was extremely important to him, but he promised me there would be food, and I eagerly awaited it.

And sure enough, my Sire did not disappoint. Mr. Hostwick, Quinton’s house servant, who I’d met many times, soon led a semi-lucid teenager into the room. Oh my god, did Hostwick know Quinton and I are vampires? I pulled the purple cloak tighter around me but Hostwick did not seem to notice, and neither did the boy, who was gazing questioningly at Hostwick. Hotwick nodded and the boy kneeled in front of me, leaning his head to the side to give me full access to his neck.

I understood. This was my big moment to prove I could handle this whole feeding thing and not completely embarrass poor Quinton. I was nervous. A lot more nervous than I thought I’d be. But the hunger, and the exquisite smell of this boy’s blood soon negated the nerves. And he was, “letting” me! I leaned in and felt my teeth, sharp as a predator’s, drawn to his veins and arteries, almost like a magnet. When my lips met his hot skin we both shuttered – I closed my eyes and let my teeth do their job, sinking deep into his flesh like a hot knife through butter. The boy groaned but the pure ecstasy of his life filling my emptiness was too blissful to be concerned with his whimpering. I did notice, eventually, Quinton getting a bit fidgety next to me, and the boy growing docile. Quinton warned me I must stop before I killed my meal. So I summoned everything I had (and, believe me, it took everything) and I pulled away. Quinton raised an eyebrow and nodded his head toward the boy as a reminder to me, and with a satisfied smile, I returned and licked the wound closed.

The boy then unceremoniously slumped to the ground.

I yelped and sunk down to him, slapping him and shaking him, trying desperately to revive him, but Quinton was laughing and pulling me off the body. “Do not worry, Childe, he only sleeps. You wore him out.” Mr. Hostwick then came and carried the boy out and we were alone again.

Quinton brushed my hair back from my eyes and whispered, “You will make me so proud, you who descend from royalty on both sides of your family lines.

******

It was a brilliant night. Probably one of the most joyful I’ve spent with Quinton. Back then he was nothing but proud of me, and I could do no wrong. Now it seems I work very hard and it’s not always so easy to please him. I guess I’m just not working hard enough. I have to try to do much better. I can’t bear to lose his love and respect…