“Shush, Grandmother, it will be well. All will be well,” Tamara spoke softly as she held the small woman close. Her fingers
tenderly brushed through the woman’s thin, graying hair. She felt the elder’s grief as keenly as if it were her own. The guilt of
bringing Aurore over weighed heavily on the African’s shoulders because although she had not been the one to do it, she
knew deep down inside that, if asked, she would not have hesitated. For Tamara, it was an automatic response to warn
against initiating one as young as Aurore. Despite this she knew that she would have initiated the girl into their dark world
because, in her own way, she felt that Aurore was her heart and soul.
As the African woman comforted the clan matriarch, she thought to that time from long ago. Even when she had left Aurore
for nearly a decade, after the teen was initiated and they had become lovers, Tamara never stopped thinking about her.
Throughout her travels, her mind always returned to the sweet innocent girl she once knew. Everyday she wondered how
Aurore was doing and if she was all right. A part of Tamara even held guilt for leaving her lover in the hands of that
despicable man, but at the time she felt that she had no other choice.
Initially when Aurore became a vampire, it was just the two of them and their lives seemed perfect. As an immortal there
were a great many lessons that Aurore needed to learn. Since Madame Tuscany was too old to teach many of the lessons,
Tamara stepped in to tutor the young vampire about how to live in the night. Tamara had first been her friend and then her
mentor. Being so close, it felt natural when they later became lovers. Just as she had taught the teen how to survive, Tamara
taught her how to make love to a woman. In time their love seemed as natural as the air that surrounded them. True, the
African had to become accustomed to the looks of those nearby who saw her with a mere teenager. Soon even those
suspicious looks did not bother her and what only mattered was their shared love. But this quickly changed.
Tamara was not certain when Aurore began to grow restless. All she knew was that the teen longed to make love with
others. Aurore yearned to venture out to find other women, and Tamara gave her the freedom she needed. Each time the
teen made love to another woman, the African waited patiently in the mansion. When the girl returned home with the scent of
another upon her, Tamara would lovingly bathe her and then reclaim her as her own. For a while this arrangement was
satisfactory until the arrival of the young immortal man.
The tall African had seen men like Shannon before. Young and pretentious, he was overconfident in his own wiles. He
swaggered around the home as if he were a prince waiting to be crowned king. Although Tamara wasn’t fooled by his
flattery, Aurore fell for him deeply. Despite her words of caution, the young vampire took the newcomer to her bed, and this
was when Tamara knew that she was losing her lover.
Initially, the African woman brushed off her feelings as petty jealousy. She tried to persuade herself that Shannon was like the
numerous women whom Aurore had bedded. He was only a plaything, something of which the teen would grow weary. But
Tamara should have known when she was invited into their love play that this was no ordinary amusement for Aurore. At first
the black woman kept away from the two lovers. But when she realized that the teen was spending more time with Shannon
than with her, she soon accepted their invitation.
Making love with more than one person was nothing new to Tamara. When she was a new initiate, their order often held
large gatherings that would result in massive orgies. On smaller scales, the African woman was accustomed to making love
with two or three partners at a time, so joining Aurore and Shannon meant little to her. Once she began to join them, Tamara
was soon grateful for her decision. Never before had she thought her little bird would want to experience pain during her
sex. But with Shannon it seemed that this was the only way that Aurore received her pleasure.
Even as Aurore’s sexual appetite metamorphosed into something that Tamara had not expected, her personality began to
change. It had not happened overnight, but it gradually changed. One moment the teen was that sweet child that Tamara
remembered, and the next moment she had become a vampire who took pleasure from another creature’s pain. Aurore had
become like Shannon, a fiend who was only seeking out the next soul to torture.
Tamara tried to reason with Aurore. From reasoning, to cajoling and even ordering, nothing worked to change the teen back
to the sweet girl she once was. No matter how hard she tried to impart the need for compassion to the girl, everything
Tamara said made Aurore angry. On the final day when she gave the girl an ultimatum she had no idea that this was to be her
last battle.
“Choose little bird, me or Shannon,” Tamara remembered saying. As soon as the words left her mouth, the black woman
knew that she had forced Aurore into a corner, but it was too late. Once said, it could not be taken back. The girl’s eyes
turned dark as her frown grew.
“Don’t make me choose,” Aurore had hissed even as Tamara tried to frantically think of a way out of this mess.
“Aurore listen to me, he’s not good for you. You are not like him!”
“How would you know what I am like? I’m not a child anymore…I’m not your child!” the teen growled as she turned away.
“Go!”
“Aurore?” Tamara called to her student and lover, but the teenager did not give up the man. There was no amount of reason
that would sway Aurore’s mind, and the African woman felt that she had little choice. So she left and traveled alone for
nearly ten years. Just as before, when she felt a deep foreboding feeling, she feared that her little bird was in trouble and she
returned quickly to find the two still together. She would have left again had it not been for Madame Tuscany, and yes, even
Aurore. Although her protégée was unwilling to give up Shannon, she had begged for Tamara to stay. Despite her better
judgment, Tamara stayed and returned to their old routine as if the split had never happened.
After the recent events, Tamara began to wonder if she was meant to return. If I had not been here, and they had done
this to Briannon’s servant, then surely there would be nothing to stand between Briannon’s fury and Aurore, she
thought as she turned her attention back to the clan matriarch. As it is, I’m not certain what can be done to fix this mess.
When Magdalena entered the room, Tamara smiled up at the mortal and waved the woman down to her. Once they
switched places, the tall black woman knelt in front of the clan matriarch. Her gaze was steady as she held the old woman’s
hands.
“Grandmother…Madame Tuscany, rest and regain your strength. I promise, I will see to everything. Do not fear for your
grandchild,” Tamara smiled reassurance as she squeezed the old woman’s hands. The grande dame gazed at her as if to
search her sincerity. Once assured, she nodded as she accepted the cup of warm blood that Magdalena held to her lips.
Tamara rose from her place and moved with quick strides from the room. When she was in the open foyer she glanced down
at Fernando. His eyes remained glued on her as he awaited her next command. With a slight sigh she lowered her head as
she spoke softly to him. “Put out a call; let everyone know that Aurore is to be returned to us safely,” Tamara ordered then
quickly turned and made her way through the house. From somewhere in the back of her mind, she heard Fernando reaching
out with his vampire powers.
With a single purpose in mind she walked down a little used staircase that was located in the farthest part of the house. With
a lantern in hand, she quickly skipped down the cold slabs until she reached the bottom. The sounds of the rodents and the
cobwebs on the walls were the only evidence that this part of the house was seldom used. When she finally reached the long
corridor, she heard the slight sounds of footsteps behind a thick metal door. As she opened the squeaky door, the grating
sound of metal on stone echoed through the corridor.
The empty cell was covered with dirt and dust. Two short manacles that were embedded into cement hung from the wall.
The rusty metal’s reddish hue glinted off the diffused light.
Tamara turned her attention away from the prison trappings to her captive. Shannon stood leaning against the farthest wall.
A slight smile crossed his lips as he stared at her. With arms folded defiantly in front of him, he looked away with disgust.
“Have you come for a private party then?” his familiar voice echoed in the chamber.
Tamara’s features remained neutral as she moved into the room. Her eyes gazed over his form. Even as her thoughts
churned over the past events, she wondered what it was that Aurore had seen in this man. It’s true, he is a good fuck, but
then, a woman with a strap on can also be a good fuck, she thought as she stepped closer to the man. What, little bird,
did you see in him? She wondered.
As if hearing Tamara’s thoughts, Shannon smiled as he stood up and stared at her defiantly. “I gave her what she wanted,”
his voice echoed in the room.
“She never wanted that; she never wanted to be like you,” Tamara spoke quickly. “I’ve known her longer than you. I knew
her when she was a mortal.”
“Ahhhh, but how well did you really know her?” Shannon smiled. He bit his lower lip as if to keep a secret and then tilted his
head slightly at an angle as he toyed with her. “You see, I knew her as an immortal, and they always say that an immortal can
never hide their true nature. Aurore wanted everything that I had to give her, and more. Why, I seem to remember even you
crying out in pleasure more than a few times.”
“I’ll grant you, you are good at fucking, but making love,” Tamara shook her head as she moved slightly away from him.
“And you think that little girl knew how to ‘make love’?” a slight chuckle rose from Shannon. Angered by his insinuation,
Tamara growled as she reached out with her powers. With only a flick of her wrist, she sent a massive force that slammed
him into the cold wall. Grunting in pain, Shannon landed in a heap on the floor below the crack that his body had just made in
the cement.
“Remind me never to get on your bad side,” Shannon chuckled as he grunted in pain.
At his audaciousness, Tamara frowned as she moved to him. Her sandaled foot rested lightly between his legs. When she
applied a slight pressure against his groin Shannon gasped as he looked up at her.
“It’s too late; you already are,” Tamara hissed as she leaned down toward him. His eyes grew big when he saw the full wrath
of her emotions rising. When she heard a noise outside of the prison cell, she growled once before pushing with all her
strength down into Shannon. A scream of pain echoed off the ceiling and down the corridor. She heard Fernando’s gasp of
sympathy behind her. By the time Tamara turned, she saw a slight smile on the immortal servant’s lips as he gave her a nod of
approval.
“Do not give him any blood to drink. I want to make his life as uncomfortable as possible,” Tamara instructed as she looked
down at Shannon. Wailing in pain, the blond vampire cupped his injured parts as he rolled around on the dirty floor. “And
while we have him where we want him, use those chains and hang him from the wall. We wouldn’t want him to be able to get
his hands on any rat blood, now would we?”
“Oh no, rat blood is too good for this bastard,” Fernando agreed as he moved past her quickly and manacled Shannon to the
wall. Although in pain, their captive tried to fight against the taller immortal, but was quickly subdued.
“You damn poofer! I bet this is what you wanted all along!” Shannon spat as he tried to kick Fernando.
“Honey, you would be so lucky to have me want you like this,” with a flick of his wrist, the tall, flamboyant vampire snapped
his fingers as he shook his head.
