I looked up from my herbs at Iselle's excited face. She had apparently run all the way from the crowded streets of Babylon into my private chamber in the Temple of Ishtar. "What is it, Iselle?" I asked mildly, thinking the girl had only the latest gossip to spread.

"The King has ordered the closing of the temple, High Priestess! Ishtar's worship is forbidden in Babylon!" the breathless Iselle panted.

I calmly put down the brush in my hand and stared blankly ahead for a moment.

"I take it this is Manella's fault," I said at last.

Iselle nodded. "Kari had no small part, either."

It made sense. Manella and Kari, the other high priestesses at the temple, had been stirring up political trouble of late in the city. Kari claimed to remember when women had controlled the world, and Manella's fiery spirit had latched onto the idea, and the two had begun working to incite rebellion.

I had somehow ended up wiser than my elders. Not that it did me any good. Iselle left to spread the word as I began to gather my few worldly possessions from my cell in the temple. I knew the people of Babylon wouldn't stand for the King's newest bit of tyranny; Ishtar was too beloved a goddess and now he would be overthrown for sure, but such a coup would take weeks, or months, and I had to survive. Disowned by my family, I now had nowhere to turn. These were times when a woman was first property of her father, then her husband. Autonomy was only reached through priesthood or prostitution. The first option was now closed to me, and I would never sink to the second. I was stuck. I spent the first night at a nearby inn, but had only enough money to buy food for the next day. What was I to do?

Robed and veiled like a respectable woman, I wandered the city's streets, sinking deeper and deeper into despair. My prayers were going unanswered. I had no means of survival, friendless and alone on the hostile streets of Babylon. I didn't even have enough money to spend another night at the inn. I would starve - or die a slave. Such thoughts detached my mind from my feet as I wandered aimlessly through the city. Only the swiftly setting sun brought me to my senses. I had made my way deep into the oldest quarter of the city, a very dangerous place for a lone woman after dark. Ishtar appeared in her guise as the evening star on the horizon as I hurried back to a more decent area.

The streets grew darker, shops closed down, and the people barred themselves in their homes. I shivered out in the darkness, pausing wistfully for a moment in front of a lone second-story window glowing invitingly. Why weren't any torches being lit? I suddenly felt a malignant presence behind my back. I whirled to face my would-be attacker, only to find empty air. "Ishtar, walk with me and preserve me from the dangers of the night," I whispered, invoking the Goddess. The streets looked no safer, however, and I fearfully trod on.

A group of rough-looking men were conferring in a dark corner. The light of their single torch twisted their faces into those of demons. One looked up at me and I scurried away, turning down the nearest alley. A cat clattering in the trash nearby became a lion waiting for a tasty young morsel like myself, and I fled, starting at a new terror every time I slowed, until I became hopelessly lost in the Old Quarter. In half a panic, I ran right into a man on a deserted street, lit only by the dim light of the crescent moon. "Forgive me!" I squealed, keeping my head down and attempting to get out of his way.

His arms came up and held my shoulders like a vise. "What have we here?" he asked, pulling my veil from my face.

"Please, sir, let me go," I begged, struggling to get away. I had better chances trying to open the jaws of a steel trap. I looked up at his face for the first time and stopped as I glimpsed his eyes. They glittered unnaturally, as a tiger's. The effect was paralyzing. I felt the first thrill of real fear. This was no ordinary ruffian. It might not have even been human. My mind raced through all the stories of all the demons I had heard in my life as his hand slowly drew back my garment, revealing my throat. His lips peeled back, revealing deadly fangs. "Vampire!" my mind shouted, obliterating all other thoughts. He raised his head, snake-like, to strike when a voice shattered the scene.

"Nasir!" it reprimanded. Another man, taller and with a much more imposing presence, appeared to my left. The vampire, Nasir, closed his mouth but tightened his grip on me. "What do you think you're doing?" the stranger asked.

"She's mine!" Nasir growled.

"She isn't for the likes of you," the stranger said. "She is beloved of Ishtar. Can you not feel her power? If you had taken this prize unconsenting," he continued, fingering my hair, "your fate would have been ten times as worse."

"What do you care, Djetemankh?" Nasir questioned.

"I'm merely looking out for the safety of my subjects, Nasir," was his smooth reply, flashing fangs at the insubordinate fledgling.

"No," the underling said, suspicious, "you've always got something else..." his squinted eyes searched his master's face. After several seconds he moved back, content with what little insight he had gained. "Take her, then," the brute said, pushing me to this new creature. His arms encircled me in a much more comforting manner, though, and, near a swoon, I sagged against him. I'd had almost all I could take in one night, and this Djetemankh seemed much safer than the other vampire or the cold streets. "I wash my hands of this," Nasir said loudly as he walked away.

Suddenly regaining my reason, I had enough sense to struggle against my new captor, attempting to walk away. His arms remained locked, however, and there were only several inches of space between us. He quickly filled the gap, pressing his body against my back, lips moving to my ear as he said in a low, intimate tone, "Leaving without even a word of thanks?"

"Please, sir, I've just had the worst fright of my life," I said, attempting to appeal to reason. "I only want to go home."

"Have you a home to go to?" he asked. His hands caressed my sides, arms encircling my waist. I was silent. I had no idea who or what this man was. Best not to tell him too much. "I'm right, then," he said, still speaking softly, lips brushing my ear. My silence had betrayed me. "You're a priestess of Ishtar, expelled from your temple by our... wicked King. Have you heard the latest news? Of course you have, wandering the streets all day." When I didn't respond, however, he continued, voice dropping to a whisper. "His Majesty is still angry. He's called for the death of all priestesses. He's very serious about killing the Goddess's following." His fingers played across my stomach.

It took a moment for the news to sink in. Now there was a death sentence on me. And for what? For following the same faith as a few rebels. Things were not looking good for me.

"I can keep you safe," Djetemankh murmured. "The King is the least of your worries. There are worse things out there than Nasir."

"I can handle myself, I said, the fear hardly showing in my voice. "You said so yourself - Ishtar will protect me."

"No, he cautioned, "that is not what I said. If something like him attacked you, you would be avenged, but not protected. It is the way of the gods to be... too late to interfere."

I shivered. It was hard to think straight. So much had happened, and now something more than human had his arms around me, wanted to protect me...

"I offer you sanctuary. Do you accept?" he breathed into my ear.

What else was there to do? "Yes, I said breathily, "I accept."

"Excellent," he whispered, kissing my neck. I turned in his arms, and it was then that I truly saw the unmistakable features of the vampire in his face.

I blanched and stepped back slowly. This time he let me go. "You didn't expect me to be human, did you?" he asked, somewhat derisively. I think he was tired of the fear he invariably caused.

I swallowed before I could answer. "Of course not, but it's still...a shocking thing to see." In fact, I was almost petrified with terror. What had I gotten myself into? This vampire of course meant to protect me from others so as to have me for himself.

He took a step towards me, hand reaching for my shoulder, and I bolted. I ran blindly down the street, escape the only thought on my mind. I heard his steps heavy in pursuit. Desperately, I pitched into an alley to my right, and the next thing I knew I was pressed against the wall, the vampire's cat-like eyes inches from my own. "Perhaps you're not quite clear on what you've just accepted," he hissed, feral from the chase. "You have accepted my protection and now I own you. No running," he added, shaking his head slowly from side to side. I followed suit, mesmerized by his gaze. Every word he said cut to the core of me, and my whole being seemed to believe it was the final truth.

It was a tremendous effort to break eye contact, but somehow I managed to. My rational mind overtook my overloaded emotions. Staring at his shoulder, I asked quietly, "What are the rules?"

"What?" he responded, voice full of dreadful things.

I was by now in a rather detached state. My emotions no longer affected my thoughts or speech. "You can't own me completely, body and soul, from just three simple words. So what are the conditions?" I asked in a perfectly calm tone.

He was silent for a moment. His body, pressed against mine, shook a little. Soon the sound audible. He was laughing at me. "At this point a normal woman would be as moist clay in my hands, too panicked to do anything but agree wholeheartedly with anything I might say. But you... you're different. You're not afraid of me, my little priestess?" he asked mockingly.

"Petrified," I said, no emotion in my voice. I think from that moment on I had him charmed, though he may not have known it himself, by my strange willpower, so rare in those days, and my utter devotion to Reason in times of panic. Here at least is where he began to take real interest in me, in my mind.

"Very well, my brave one, I will tell you the rules," Djetemankh murmured. "But first, your name."

"Zianthe," I said, eyes still fixed on his shoulder. His... rather muscular shoulder. But how could I be thinking like that at a time like this?

"Zianthe," he repeated with a smile. Out of the corner of my eye I could see fangs protruding from his (sensual?) mouth. "Normally my earlier statement would be correct and you would be mine, to do with as I wished. But your... faith... confuses things. I can't force you against your will into anything that will hurt you if I fear divine retribution. Your good favor with Ishtar gives you quite some freedom under our agreement. You are officially a piece of my property, as a wife or a slave, though autonomous. As such you are required to make your residence in my... humble abode, and be present during my waking hours every night. Simple requests - get me a drink, treat me with respect - must be honored, but not much harsher." He smiled whimsically. "Actually, I would appreciate it if you would remind me when I push the limits-" he pressed suddenly closer, "-and I will."

"Consider it done," I said, shrinking from his touch.

His smile became even more pleased. I could see him devising all sorts of games to play with me. "I think I will enjoy your company, even if I'm denied other... sweeter things," he murmured, again dangerously close to my neck. "There's no retribution if it's consentual..." he breathed, sending a warm breeze over my neck as his lips played across my throat.

I let out my breath, slowly. I hadn't even realized I had caught it. Even without the hypnotism of his eyes, his exquisite voice made a part of me want to give in to him, let his fangs break skin and bring the promised oblivion. But the other part of me was filled with fear. I tried to push him away, but the effort was useless. "No," I said, putting as much command as I could muster into my voice. "I refuse."

"One day, you won't," he promised, but took a step back. "Now, on to my simple dwelling."

His "simple dwelling" turned out to be almost a palace. A bit removed from the chaotic interior of Babylon, his sprawling, three-story mansion covered more ground than the temple of Marduk, one of the largest structures in the city. Djetemankh seemed very proud of his palace, and gave me a complete tour. We entered through a pair of massive double doors. Having regained my veil, I pulled it close around me as we passed. To either sides, where many structures would have had winged bulls, this mansion had a pair of statues recognizable as the image of Tiamat, the dragon of Chaos. the lacquered forms made me shudder. What was I doing entering this house of evil? I felt for the talisman of Ishtar under my shawl and bade the Goddess protect me as I entered the building.

The receiving hall was wondrous. Egyptian-style murals covered the walls; Phoenician and Assyrian vases furnished the room. Many of the pieces looked hundreds of years old. The murals were exquisitely painted, but it was too dim to see what they depicted. I stepped closer. The symbolic flattening of the figures confused me at first, but I soon realized I was looking at a picture of a vampire, perhaps symbolizing Djetemankh (it was an Egyptian name) preparing to drink from a beautiful slave-girl. Other victims were lined up after her. The Egyptian picture-writing surrounded everything.

"Do you like it?" Djetemankh asked, coming up behind me, encircling my waist with his arms. "It ensures me fresh victims forever in the afterlife."

"And has it worked?" I queried quietly.

"Well enough," he said in an amused tone, pleased with the novelty of my spirit. He pulled me closer.

"Let go of me," I said quietly, still hating his touch. His arms returned to his sides and he stepped back as I turned around, not wishing to expose my back to him.

He stood there and looked at me with his glittering eyes. "Take your veil off," he said suddenly.

I bowed my head. "A respectable woman never reveals her face in public."

He took a step closer. "We're not in public," he tantalized.

I was silent. I didn't want to remove my veil; it was like a protective layer between myself and the threatening world around me. But he made it sound so reasonable.

"Simple requests must be honored," he intoned. He raised his hands to the offending fabric and pulled it, slowly, from my head.

I kept my head down, eyes focused on his leather boots. My long, black hair cascaded over my shoulders, freed from the constraints of my headcloth.

"Like the curtain of the night," the vampire purred. He moved a little closer and buried his hands in the silky tresses, stroking the strands almost to the ends at my waist. His right hand moved to my chin. "Look at me," he murmured.

"No," I said. My gaze rose, almost involuntarily, up his body, finally stopping at his shoulder. “Your eyes... do something to me. I can't trust to look into them."

His breath came out in a cool steam on my forehead. "I won't - I can’t hurt you," he promised. His voice was like a siren's song, coaxing me to trust him...

My eyes moved slowly, up his throat, to his lips, along the line of his cheekbone to his drowning brown eyes. I felt... drawn to them; they were like deep pools of thick water and I was sinking... I felt his arms around me, hands tangled in my hair, and suddenly I wondered what my blood would taste like if I licked it from his lips.

Djetemankh himself broke the spell. "It would be all to easy to continue and bring eternal vengeance down on my head," he muttered. I broke his grip and stepped back in amazement. Staring at him, I realized how close to the edge I had come. Clearly I had underestimated the terrifying impact of his overwhelming power. He seemed to be collecting himself as well. We eyed each other across what seemed a terrible distance, then Djetemankh turned towards the door and again the room became the dim little antechamber that it was. "Are you coming?" he asked quietly. After a moment's hesitation I followed his lead through the rest of the mansion. He showed me wonderful gardens, beautifully furnished rooms, and breathtaking views off many elegant balconies. Everywhere the dark overtones continued in the Egyptian murals. The whole place was painted up like a huge tomb.

Finally he lead me to the room in which I was to lodge. I had suspected he would insult me further by placing me in the servant's wing, but he set me up in a room at the end of the guest hallway. The walls were painted a deep red, matching the sheets and pillows on the large feather bed. A large bronze mirror and a Phoenician table furnished the room. It was thankfully free of murals.

"This is the most luxurious room I've ever slept in," I said appreciatively. The wondrous tour had helped me see an up side to this entire ordeal - I had had a beautiful place to live, and would want for nothing - nothing but safety. Funny that that was the very thing he had offered me.

"I'm glad you like it," the vampire smiled.

Actually, I found the blood-red color a bit disturbing, but I held my tongue. I had no idea what this creature would do if I offended him.

"The sun will soon be rising," he said softly, intimately, again coming too close to me. I took a step away, this time turning my back to him. Somehow his voice was right in my ear as he said "Sweet dreams." I whirled to where I thought the noise had come from, but found the room was empty. I took a step back and collapsed on the soft bed, collecting myself from the umpteenth scare of the night. I was lost in thought when a knock came at the door.

I paused. Who would be knocking? "Yes?" I asked, rather apprehensively. The door opened, admitting a delicate girl of clear Egyptian decent. She looked at me expectantly. I gazed back at her just as warily. "Who are you?" I asked.

I am to be your servant, mistress," the girl said with a dainty bow. "I was sent to help you undress."

"I have never needed help undressing before," I said, unsure of how to deal with a slave. "You may go."

The girl's eyes widened. The poor thing looked quite panicked. "I was told to help you undress! If I don't, the Master will be angry. I don't want him to be angry with me," she pleaded.

I didn't want the girl to be punished. "Come, on, then... what is your name?"

"Nedjem, mistress," the girl peeped in her tiny voice. She couldn't have been more than thirteen.

"Well, Nedjem," I began, "you may hang up my clothes as I give them to you." I removed all the voluminous layers of my stylish attire, leaving only my shift (one thin, white linen dress). Nedjem took the rest of my garb to a closet I hadn't noticed before.

"Can I get you anything else, mistress?" she asked. She looked like a dog trying her best not to get kicked.

"No, thank you, Nedjem, you may go now." She all but ran out the door and scurried down the hall.

Strangely, it took me no time at all to fall asleep.