Conquest and Confession III
By: Alicia

The four of us ran outside into the torrential rain.  The sleeping town had been roused by the commotion and the prison would soon be surrounded by guards.  The fire flared up into the sky, the rain unable to weaken it at all.  People were screaming and running out into the streets, excited, frightened, and angry.  We needed to get out of the range of the townspeople before Adán could will us away completely.  He reasoned that if he tried there, it would give the guards a chance to attack the rest of us.

So, we ran, met by soldiers at nearly every corner.  Adán, Anibal, and Azhar made short work of them, while I navigated the easiest route out.  When I saw that we were approaching the outer walls, I felt relieved.  My ease was short-lived, though.  We couldn’t have been more than a minute from being out of harm’s way.  I thought it was over, but turning the final corner, I ran into an armored, human wall.  The soldier grabbed me by the arms and pulled me into the alley.

His sword drawn, I felt it scrape against my side before the others caught up to me.  In the moment I thought would be my last, Anibal struck him, knocking the sword out of his hand, and forcing him to let me go.  The man picked up his weapon as Anibal pushed me out of the alley to Adán and Azhar.  Hearing the guard’s motion behind him, Anibal turned and blocked the offense with his own sword.  They began to duel and I watched, not wanting to leave him despite his commands,  “Adán, get her out of here!  I’ll be behind you, just go!”

“No! We’re not leaving him!” I protested.  It all happened so quickly, both men had been wounded, and continued to fight determinedly.  Adán and Azhar got me out of harm’s way, but still in sight of Anibal.  In another second, it was over.  Anibal managed to disarm the guard and lunged into him to finish him off.  That is when the guard reached into his boot and pulled out a dagger.  Before Anibal could stop himself, the knife was buried in his chest.  He cried out and collapsed onto the ground, clutching the dagger and fighting to breathe.  I screamed loudly enough to wake the dead, the only ones in the town left sleeping.  Adán instantly set upon the soldier in his moment of victory and snapped his neck.  You’d think he could have done that before, but he really did have no chance, the confrontation had come too suddenly even for him.

Anibal lay on the ground, he had pulled out the knife, but was still struggling.  His shirt was covered in blood and even as the rest of us surrounded him to take him away, he ordered, “Go!  Get them out now!… Ah!…” forcing his breath and voice painfully, “There’s no other chance!”  I fell down beside him, cradling his head, “I’m not leaving you,” I managed to say, since I was now crying, “Adán! Do it! Get us out of here… ALL of us!”  I knew he couldn’t, there were too many of us to move in one try.  With what strength he had left, Anibal reached up, and pulled me towards him.  He pressed his lips to mine, and I embraced him tightly.  “Te quiero, Eva.”  He whispered, “I love you.”  I closed my eyes tightly, not letting him go.  When I opened them, I was no longer in the street.


Adán had taken himself, Azhar, and me out of the town.  We were in a home in Seville proper.  When I saw that Anibal was not with us, I dropped down to the floor, crying hysterically.  Azhar kneeled beside me to offer comfort, to no avail.  Adán simply assured, “Eva, I’m taking care of it.  I’ll get him.”  He nodded to Azhar, “Watch her for now, I’ll come back as soon as I can.”  With that, Adán escaped through the window.

I’ve never lived a night longer than that one.  I sat there, on the floor, weeping.  Azhar had given up trying to make me stop and was simply watching Seville from the window.  I couldn’t help myself, I couldn’t try to sleep or stop thinking about him, Anibal, dying in my arms.  He loved me, he did love me, and he died for me.  No matter what Adán said, there was no way he could help.  We left him there, it was too late to do anything.   Nothing happened until Adán returned.  Though it seemed like eternity, he hadn’t been gone more than an hour.  He emerged from the darkness and rushed to me, as I had not moved since he left.

When I saw him, I stood up, frantically asking questions, “What happened? Where did you go?  Where is he?”  He said he would get Anibal, but he had come back alone.  “Shh, Eva,” he quieted me, pressing a finger to my lips.  “He’s alright, but he needs to rest.”  “Alright?  How?  I have to see him…”  “You can’t see him, Eva, not yet!” He admonished.  “Just know that he isn’t dead and you will see him soon enough.”  Part of me was angry at him for not letting me go to Anibal, but it was completely overridden by the joy and relief knowing that the was alive.

Adán held me in a comforting embrace, stroking my hair.  I lost all sense of time.  Everything was changing around me, my life had been turned upside down in the span of a week.  Eventually, Adán released me and turned to the window.  “Señor,…” he began, approaching him, “Azhar.”  “Azhar, thank you, first of all, for staying with Eva.” “It was the least I could do,” Azhar replied, “if it weren’t for her I would be dead in the morning, if not already.” “I see.  Well, we’ll be leaving soon, perhaps as soon as tomorrow night;” Adán explained, “once I speak to Leonardo and Don Quintanilla.” “Where are we going?” I asked.  “Italy, for the time being, at least.  And then we would go to America.” He responded, and turned back to Azhar, “You’re free to join us, but that would involve some, well, changes.”  “I understand, Señor Rosario,” Azhar answered, “but I’m afraid I cannot.  I know what you are, and I don’t condemn you for it, but it is against my faith to deal in such matters.”  “I see.” Adán mused. “Besides, my uncle is still in this city, I hope.  I cannot leave until I find him.”

“Well,” Adán remarked “I respect that, will you stay here tonight?”  Azhar turned back to the window, as if searching “I’m afraid I cannot, the sooner I start searching, the sooner I’ll find him.  And I think I know how.” He looked back to me and Adán, “Thank you though, for offering, but I must go.” Adán nodded and extended his hand, “Good luck to you, then.  I hope you find him soon.”  Azhar accepted, “To you as well, go with God, Señor Rosario.” “Adán” he corrected.  Azhar nodded and turned to me, taking my hand, “Eva, thank you, for everything.  You’re strong, you’ll be alright.”  I smiled as he turned to leave, “Go with God, Azhar."


So, once again, I was alone, with Adán.  The room was a salon typical for well-to-do households, used for entertaining guests.  Numerous candles adorned the walls, their light glowing from ceiling to floor.  The light illuminated Adán’s face, which was unusually flushed.  It reminded me of one of my first encounters with him, the way his eyes were shining, the way his hair danced around his face as the breeze coming from the window toyed with it; the storybook hero.

He approached me slowly, stopping directly in front of me and taking my hands in his.  I looked up to meet his eyes, as he towered over me, and rested my head against his chest.  I sighed heavily, my mind reeling from everything that had happened, analyzing all that I had lost, all that I had gained.  “We need to talk, Eva.” He told me.  “I know.” I replied, wearily.

I pulled away from him and sat on the chaise behind me.  He followed, sitting next to me.  Taking my hands again, he began, “Eva, I meant it when I said I would be leaving soon.”  I nodded in understanding, not wanting to interrupt him.  He continued, “I would like you to come with me, to Italy, but I won’t force you.”  He stopped here, waiting for my response, “What about Anibal?”  He took a moment before responding, “He will be with us as well.”  “You intend to turn us into your kind, vampires?”  “If you wish to be.  You can always travel with me simply as a companion.”  “I can be your companion?  And what about…” he stopped me before I could continue.  He was visibly tense and took a deep breath before saying, “There is something I need to tell you before you respond, ‘yes’ or ‘no’.”

“Go on.” I urged.  “Eva, you know that I love you.  I can tell that you love Anibal, and he feels the same for you.”  I felt myself blush, he was speaking the truth.  “I fear that I may have forced your decision on this, but I cannot, in good conscience, bring you across without telling you.”  “Telling me what, Adán?” I asked, both nervously and impatiently.  “I told you that Anibal is not dead.  Well, he is not exactly alive, either.” He answered slowly, pausing after each word of his confession.  I merely looked at him, confused. “Eva, I already brought him across.”

“You what?” I exclaimed.  I was more shocked than angry, but I can’t even recall every emotion I felt in that instant.  “I had to, Eva,” he defended, “to save his life.”  “And he went willingly?  Where is he? Please let me see him.” I asked frantically.  “He did, I can’t tell you yet, and no.” he answered, firmly.  “Why not?”  He had calmed down since he had confessed what he had done, but his behavior remained cautious and perhaps somewhat strained.  “Because of what happened before I changed him–he did almost die on his own, you know–he needs to rest.  Normally it is not the case, and he will be fine, but still I cannot let you see him.  I do not wish to hurt you or sway your decision anymore than I already have.”  His admission did affect me, and I may have resented it for a while.  I would have said ‘yes’ anyway, but after he told me that he had already brought Anibal across, there was no way I could decline.
“Why did you save him?” I asked.  He sighed, “I don’t know; because I love you, because he makes you happy.  Because I’ve grown fond of him myself, I don’t know.”

I was silent for a moment, unsure of how to respond to him, though I knew what I wanted to do – what I had to do.  “So, I would be with you and with Anibal?” I asked, looking down at my hands, which he held.  He nodded, “If I have to share you, so be it.  I bear no grudge against Anibal, but I want to spend my eternity with you.”  He brought his hand to my face, lifting my gaze to meet his, “Eva, mi corazón, mi cielo.  Te adóro mas que el mundo entéro, y te quiero tener a mi lado siempre.”  He pushed back a loose lock of my hair and kissed me softly.  His lips felt cool against mine, and his kiss was not the least bit forceful, rather, it was hopeful.  I returned his kiss, pressing closer to him before he broke it, “Do you want me to do this, Eva?” he whispered.  I looked into his hazel-green eyes and answered an unwavering ‘yes’.

No verbal or written account can do justice to the actual experience of the Embrace, it is so intense.   However, I will do my best to relate it.  He kissed me again, this time more commanding.  He wrapped his arms around me and held me close to him.  I felt his strength and his passion envelop me, wanting – needing –to make me a part of himself, or vice versa.  His lips trailed down to my neck, my shoulders and chest, unlacing the bodice of my dress.  His hands found their way to my legs, caressing from top to bottom, while I removed his shirt.

He stopped for a moment, lifting me up off the chaise and taking me to another room, a bedroom.  Immediately I recognized it.  It was the same room he had brought me to when we first made love.  Still lavishing me with passionate kisses, he placed me gently on the bed, hovering over me and watching me with those disarming eyes.  His lips returned to my neck, priming it for what was to come.  His fingers slowly circled from my shoulders down to my waist as he slid my dress and undergarments off.  I lay before him, desnudo– physically, emotionally, spiritually naked and open to him.  He removed what was left of his clothing, gently settling above me.  He made love to me both passionately and delicately.  He gave himself to me entirely, taking in return every part of me.

The moment came, as he reached his climax and I mine.  I felt his mouth once again against my neck.  This time, I felt the sharp pain of his fangs piercing my skin.  I felt myself weaken as my mind filled with beautiful images, of love, of happiness and peace, of the two of us, the three of us.  In the pain, in the union between us, it was the most erotic feeling I’ve ever experienced, and, at the same time, it was pure.  It was the purest sharing of oneself with another.

He drank slowly, trying to hurt me as little as possible.  When I felt as if I could take no more, he stopped.  He pulled away from me and with his nail, cut open the skin just beside his heart.  I watched the blood flow from the wound and hungrily accepted it, drinking of him in a manner that felt like kissing him–earnest, burning, yet sweet and tender. As I said before, it is the most erotic experience, to taste him, be one with him, one of him.

The moment passed, and the euphoria slowly faded away, drifting into panic and pain.  I felt as if I was being torn apart inside.  I screamed and thrashed on the bed.  Adán held me down, trying to calm me, assuring me that everything would be all right, that this was normal and necessary.  I tried to listen to him, to overlook the pain, but I could not.  Death is truly a frightening and painful experience.  Precious few return to tell about it, but it is not something you would want to remember.  Adán was right,  soon, the pain ceased.  And as quickly as death had begun, it ended, and everything went black.

I awoke the next evening alone.  I did not know where I was, though I assumed I was still somewhere in the house.  This room was dark, no windows, a few scant candelabra adorned stone walls, just barely giving enough light to see.  Yet, everything in the room was clear.  I rose from my bed, one much more modest than the one I had been in before.  Looking around, I noticed various trunks, artwork propped against walls, and two other beds.  The first was empty, the second, in a far corner, showed me what I had so longed to see the night before–my love.

I raced to his side and took his cool hand.  He was still sleeping.  I regarded his features with awe.  I’ve been told the change pales the skin, but his remained the color of caramel.  His long black waves framed his young, beautiful face perfectly.  I watched him sleep and nearly broke down into tears.  I sighed, resting my head on his hand.  Immediately, I felt him stir.  I stood up again, and watched as his deep chocolate eyes met mine.  I thought I had lost him, and now I had him for eternity.  I smiled as he touched my cheek, almost in disbelief that I was with him.  “Eva,” he whispered, “eres tú.”  I laughed softly, “Si, mi amor.”  He sat up in the bed and held me tightly.  “Ay, mi tesóro, como te extrañe.”  “I feared I had lost you.”  “No,” he replied, “forever, por siempre.” With that, he kissed me sweetly, for what seemed like a pleasant eternity.

Adán, Anibal and I left that night for Italy.  We spent a good few years in Rome, a bit less in Florence, they’re so arrogant there.  Adán was a caring and patient instructor in all the things we needed for survival.  Along the way, we did have dealings with Leonardo, who, in fact, is quite well connected in Seville.  He arranged for Migdalia to marry her suitor, putting my mind at ease.  She would be happy with him, and have the life she deserved.  The rest of my town was taken by Leonardo and Don Quintanilla’s army, the fire that had been set in the jail was a signal for them to come.  I am not sure what happened to Azhar.  As far as I know, he did find his uncle, and last I heard, spent most of his life travelling and doing business in the East.  I remained with Anibal and Adán, travelling, learning.  I still love the both of them, I suppose we have the best of all possible worlds.  I certainly don’t mind sharing either of my loves with the other, as they have grown quite close over the centuries.

That is a rather abridged version of what brings me here, to Rio, telling you my story.  I am afraid I cannot provide you with some information, as Anibal or Adán can do a better job of filling in the gaps.  Anibal should be in New York right now.  He loves it there.  Adán, I believe went to Australia for a while.  All families need a break from each other once in a while.  I personally love Rio de Janeiro.  The two of them should meet me here in a few weeks for Carnaval, we never miss it.  A whole group comes down for what we like to call “The Walking Buffet.”  However, if you cannot wait, I’ll send word up to Anibal so you can talk to him next.  Let him know that you’ve talked to me.  You may even play this tape for him, I doubt there is much on it that he doesn’t already know.

In any case, take care.  It was a pleasure sharing my story with you, perhaps I’ll see you again someday.