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He held you pressed close against his chest as you died.
He wept.
Just moments before, he had fed from you. Drained you almost dry, until he could feel your faltering pulse upon his tongue, the weakening thump of your heart. Slower and slower.
He used his teeth to gash open his wrist like a feral animal, pressing the wound to your greying lips. If you did not take in the blood now, you would be lost to him forever.
"Drink, amore ," he whispered, frantic. "Drink me."
You lay listless in his arms, eyelids fluttering, weak breath rattling in your chest. Not moving. Not responding.
But then, he felt the pull of the blood leaving him. He heard you swallow. Once. Then again. And again. Stronger each time.
He brought you closer, cradling your head, holding you there to feed. "Yes, yes, cara mia ... take all you can."
The life-giving elixir brought you back into brief consciousness. You gulped it down greedily as its power surged through you in these final moments, the blood he had taken coursing back into you, working its primal, infernal magic. A wanton moan escaped your lips and you writhed against him in pleasure. It reminded him of the nights of ecstasy spent together in this bed - such sounds you had made as he took you, sometimes sweet and passionate, sometimes raw and desperate, over and over. You had begged for more. You said that you wanted to be his, like him. He swore on all that was evil and unholy that you would grant you life eternal.
But first, you had to die.
You whimpered as he pulled his wrist away. "Sshhh, shhh amore . It is done." He kissed you deeply, lapping up the last of the blood pooled in your mouth, and you went limp in his arms once again, too feeble to move.
"Copia... Please don't leave me..." you rasped, your voice weak. You were fading fast.
"Never." The promise murmured in your ear, the last words your human form would hear. "I'm with you always."
When you were gone, he lowered you onto the bed, slow and gentle. Soon the sun would rise, and your nursemaid would be in to check on you. He could not sit in vigil despite not wanting you to leave his sight. This was the moment he must let go. He kissed your forehead, his cheeks wet with tears. " Ti amo. Ti amo, mia regina. Mia dolce angelo ."
He was a monster, forsaken, his faith long gone. His cursed existence refuted any proof of a benevolent God. And yet, as he slipped from your balcony into the darkness, there was a prayer on his lips. He prayed to whatever Satanic demon it was that watched over his kind. He prayed you would reawaken, turned, a creature of the night as he was, and you would live forever beside him.
He could not go on otherwise.
⛧⛧⛧⛧⛧⛧
He arrived at the church just as the sun slipped below the horizon. The graveyard was empty save for a lone priest standing in solemn watch at the door of your family's sepulcher.
"Greetings, my brother," the priest said, his voice full of sorrow. "Do you come to mourn this young lady?"
Copia nodded grimly and the priest allowed him entrance.
On a stone altar, lit only by candlelight, lay your coffin, made from ebony wood and carved with intricate embellishments. The air was thick with the scent of roses, red bouquets surrounding your tomb in a vain attempt to mask the stench of death.
"Such a tragedy," the priest began, "This beautiful woman taken in her prime. A blood disease, the doctors believe. There was nothing they could do, it happened so fast. Were you well acquainted?"
"Very." Copia narrowed his eyes at the priest, suspicious. "Why do you lurk here? You are not the priest of this parish."
"I am Father James DeFroque," he said, the beads of his rosary clicking as he fidgeted under the vampire's intense gaze. "Tasked by this lady's family to keep watch and pray for her dearly departed soul , to shepherd her into the kingdom of our Lord. May her spirit live forever in his grace. Will you pray with me, brother?"
The priest was nervous, ill-at-ease in Copia's presence. His heightened vampiric senses could see each drop of sweat forming on DeFroque's forehead, feel the quickened pump of the priest's heart as he went to his knees in supplication and began to recite the Lord's Prayer.
But he could not feel you.
Had his efforts to turn you been in vain?
Panicked now, Copia stepped past the priest and stood at your coffin, his gloved hands splaying out over the lid. " Amore , I am here. I am here for you." His voice broke in a sob, overwhelmed with emotion. "Please, amore ... please. Return to me."
And then, he felt it. A tingle in his mind, curling through his senses like whisps of smoke.
Copia...
You were there, calling out to him through the ether. His presence had roused you and your essence shimmered and danced through him as you awoke from your slumber. Connected. Your soul, your consciousness bound to his through the process of siring you. Together forever.
Copia... My beloved...
Awash in relief, he pushed at the lid of the coffin to free you, opening it but a crack before the priest sprung to his feet to stop him: "My brother, no! You must not..." DeFroque's voice trailed off as he stared in horror, watching your pale fingers snake out under the lid, searching for your lover's hand.
"Copia..." Your voice was a gravelly whimper.
He pushed the coffin lid off completely; it fell to the floor with a thud. He took your hand as he gazed upon you, your delicate beauty only heightened by your immortality. Your skin pure and white like alabaster. Your lips crimson red, the hint of razor-sharp fangs beneath. He gasped in delight when your eyelids fluttered open.
" Mi amore ," he murmured, " mia bella regina. "
Your fingers tightened around his, while your other hand reached up to caress his cheek. Your touch was soft, weak in your newly-risen state. "My love," you whispered.
Copia leaned over you to press his lips to yours. But the meddlesome priest intervened, pushing a large wooden crucifix into the space between you. " Vade retro Satana. Vade retro Satana !" he chanted. Copia hissed and backed away, leaving you mewling at the loss. You pulled yourself up to sit, reaching for him...
"You!" Copia growled, his fangs bared. "You are that charlitan priest who travels this county claiming to be a hunter of the undead." DeFroque was trembling, the crucifix outstretched in one hand and a sharp wooden stake in the other. "Shaking like a frightened animal... You've never come face to face with one of us before, have you?" Copia was taunting him, prowling around the perimeter of the sepulcher. "Do you really think you can best me, fool?"
"I don't need to best you," the priest said, his voice wavering, "I only need to ensure this vile creature," he motioned to you, "does not rise from her crypt."
Copia stared down at him, his mismatched eyes aflame with rage. "If you touch her, I will tear you open and feast on your heart."
"Whether I do or do not, I will die either way."
An evil smile broke across Copia's lips. "I admire you for being accepting of your fate, padre. Mia bella ragazza is hungry. Your pious blood will feed her well..."
Copia stalked forwards, Defroque brandishing the crucifix before him to no effect. " Anima Christi, sanctifica me. Corpus Christi, salva me. Ab hoste maligno defende me. In hora mortis meae voca me ," he prayed.
The sound of Copia's mocking laughter filled the air. "Body of Christ save me, from the malignant enemy defend me..." he sneered at the priest's words, batting the crucifix away with a slap, sending it clattering to the floor. "Your God holds no power over me." Defroque backed away until there was nowhere left for him to go, trapped between your coffin and the advancing vampire.
Defroque spun to face you and raised the stake high, about to plunge it into your chest when Copia lunged at him, grabbing his wrist and breaking the bones as easily as snapping a twig. The priest screamed in pain as the stake fell to the ground.
Copia grabbed the priest by the hair and yanked his head back, holding him there, baring the neck to you. The fingers of his free hand tangled through your hair as he pulled you close and pressed soft kisses to your forehead. "For you, amore . Drink your fill."
Demonic instinct took over. You sunk your teeth into the priest's flesh, moaning when the blood hit your tongue, reveling in its heat, and how his breath gurgled in his throat as you fed.
The sight of you on this pathetic man and the sounds of your pleasure stirred something primal within your vampire lover. Arousal. He was aching. Throbbing. Craving the orgasmic bliss of both you and the blood. He clutched at you, wrapping you in a tight embrace with your prey pressed between you, and bit down hard on the other side of the priest's neck.
Together, as one, you drained him. When DeFroque's lifeless body slumped to the ground Copia was upon you in an instant, his mouth crashing into yours in a savage kiss. Blood smeared across your lips, tongues savoring each other in perverse ecstasy.
You broke away first, your movements weak. Copia knew you would need time, that for the first few nights after your resurrection, you would be insatiable, yet frail, and would need help to feed. For you, he would do anything .
With preternatural strength, he easily lifted you from the coffin, one arm behind your knees and the other at your back, cradling you close to him. Your head rested heavy on his shoulder. "Copia," you whispered, "I need more."
"Yes, amore . And you shall have it."