Echoes Throughout Eternity

"By Apollo, Xiphon! You're going to cleave me in two!" Andros panted as I rammed into him. With a final thrust, I reached that pleasurable spot and emptied my seed deep within him. With a scream, he arched his back and he too, exploded. I gently lowered his legs from my shoulders and gave his manhood an appreciative kiss.

"Mmmm ... like the finest honey...." I began to lap the glistening white fluid from his tight stomach and continued to lick him, up to his strong, muscular chest. I gently bit his nipples and smiled to myself at his sharp intake of breath.

"You know, Mother said if I came home limping again, she would turn you into an old, fat woman."

"Oh, I doubt that. Would she be so cruel to her only son?" I looked into his wine-dark blue eyes and gave him a deep kiss.

He laughed. "Hardly. Although I may be inclined to turn you into a sheep!" He grabbed me and deftly changed our positions. Though I was the more muscular, he pinned me easily. Andros had me below him and began to nuzzle my neck. "What do you think of that, Majesty?"

"Baaaaaa!" I said.

* * *

My name is Xiphon, eldest son of King Leandros and Queen Diopatria of Crete. I was a sickly babe and my birth had been a difficult one. My father had been ready to abandon me on the mountainside, but my mother spirited me away to the far side of the island. She had heard tales of a powerful witch who might be able to help me. After several days travel, she found the small cottage of Danae, the sorceress. Danae herself had recently borne a son and when she saw the condition of myself and my mother, welcomed her with open arms and promised to do what she could.

My condition, she discovered, was the result of a curse upon Leandros for improperly sacrificing to Apollo. She assured my mother that she could indeed lift the curse from me, but it would need to be done slowly over several years - Apollo was not a vindictive god; he could be convinced of his error, but never defied.

Andros was the son of Danae and allegedly, Apollo himself. A year older than me, he became my brother, my friend and later, my lover. He too, was a puissant sorcerer - Andros developed his powers at an early age; no doubt due to his unique parentage. Year after year, while I grew stronger, my mother grew weaker; one day, she fell into a deep sleep and never awoke. Leandros wept for weeks over her loss and my father could scarce bear my presence; I resembled my mother closely and his grief over her death quickly turned to anger and hatred towards me.

It was not long before he remarried. Melina - a harpy if there ever was one - became the new Queen, and quickly found herself with child. Thalos - a devious, squint-eyed little brute - became my step-brother. He and his scheming mother made my life miserable at the palace; I spent as much time with Danae and Andros as I could. Acheos, the captain of the guard and my mother's distant cousin - became the father I lost.

Andros and I lay entwined in the meadow, the sun creating a dappled effect through the branches of the olive tree above us. He traced lazy designs on my chest.

"How are Scylla and Charybdis?"

I made a face. "The same as always. Melina makes me ill. Honeyed words to my face and a dagger in my back."

"I could always turn them into sheep. I could also turn us into wolves." He grinned. "It would be fun!"

I sighed. "I appreciate the offer, my love, but no. Father dotes on Thalos. I swear he would have me killed for the slightest infraction. I keep away from that miserable trio as much as possible."

Andros nuzzled my neck and jaw. I held him close. "By the gods, how I adore you. What would I do without you?"

I heard a rustling to my right. I turned to see a pair of bronze greaved legs and something heavy knocked me into darkness.

* * *

I awoke to find myself in a prison cell. My head throbbed and I was chained to the wall. Andros was similarly shackled against the adjoining wall. He looked far worse than I - a large gash traveled down the side of his head. The blood had dried and left a dark vine down his face, across his shoulder and down his chest. His handsome face was a mass of bruises. He looked at me.

"Wh-what happened?"

"I don't know. Perhaps we have been abducted for ransom."

At that point, I heard movement outside of the heavy wooden door. With a clank, the portal opened to show Melina and Thalos. The haughty woman lifted her dress as she entered the cell.

"So ... here we have the traitor and his fornicating partner!"

"Melina, what is going on here? Release me immediately!"

She gave me a smug smile. "I think not, Prince Xiphon. The evidence of your treason is well documented. Leandros has decided to have you and your ... lover ..." she looked over at Andros. "... put to death."

Andros' eyes blazed. "I will have my revenge, you harpy!" he said quietly, but the force in his voice was unmistakable.

Thalos laughed. "Go ahead and try. That charm around your neck negates your powers! You two will soon be food for the vultures!"

"Where is Acheos? What have you done to him?"

"Oh, the captain was sent on a very important errand for the king. When he returns, you will be rotting in the sun."

With that, Melina and her spawn left us alone. The door slammed shut.

* * *

"Xiphon, former prince of the realm, you stand charged with treason against Leandros and Melina, king and queen of Crete. How do you and lover plead?"

I spat at the herald. "We are innocent! I have done nothing to deserve this treatment! Father! You would take the word of this harpy over your own flesh?"

My father's face twisted in fury. "SILENCE! Melina has shown me incontrovertible proof of your disloyalty! I should have put you to death twenty summers ago!" He put his arm around Thalos, who leered at me. "This is my only son!"

Leandros turned to the soldiers. "Place them on the pyre and burn them!"

Still in chains, Andros and I were hauled up to the pyre. He tripped and stumbled against me. I felt the charm around his neck hit me in the face. I grabbed it with my mouth and twisted my head. I ripped it from his neck and spat it out. He looked at me and gave a triumphant grin.

A whirlwind blew the guards away from us and a wall of blue flame separated us from the crowd. Our chains vanished in a puff of smoke. Andros transformed. In his place was a great eagle. He grabbed me gently in his claws and his wings launched us into the air. I could see the amazed and shocked faces below us as we flew higher and higher. I saw Thalos nock an arrow into his bow and aim it at us. I felt a burning pain in my shoulder and weakened as I was, I again spiraled into blackness.
* * *

I awoke to find Danae wiping my face with a cool cloth. I felt if my body was on fire from within; Danae's eyes were red with tears.

"Andros? ..."

"He is dying, Xiphon. Poisoned by a scratch from the arrow that went through your shoulder... and despite my powers of healing, I cannot save him! Nor you!" She held me close and wept. I had never in my life seen the sorceress cry. Despite the flames in my blood, I felt the chill hand of Thanatos caress my face.

"Take me to him." I could barely sit up and my breath came in ragged gasps. I needed to hold Andros a final time before we took our journey together across the Styx with Charon.

The sorceress helped me stagger into the other room. Andros was sitting up, lines of pain etching his face as he breathed with difficulty. I was so weak I could scarcely do more than lean against him. Feel him. I grasped his hand in mine.

"My father comes." he said. Danae gasped.

I had noticed that the room had appeared bright, but I attributed it to the agony affecting my eyesight. However, as I looked out the window, I could see that the sun was descending from the sky. Within the span of a few breaths, I made out a fiery chariot pulled by four golden horses. The being in the chariot strode across the grass and entered the cottage. Apollo had come to earth.

He was perfection itself. Tall and tanned, the god wore a blindingly white chalmys edged in gold. His deep blonde hair spread around his shoulders like a halo. His muscles rippled under his skin. Apollo's face was a mixture of worry and anger.

I tried to kneel before the sun god, but I managed only to crash to the floor. He picked me up as if I were but a babe and sat me in a chair. There were unshed tears in his golden eyes. He lifted Andros into his arms. I could see the familial resemblance between the two. He kissed the forehead of his dying son.

"When we return to Olympus, I will have you healed." He looked at me with pity. "I am sorry to have caused you this, Xiphon. Had I not been so angry the day your father failed to observe the proper rites, you would not be dying now. You, least of all, deserved to be the brunt of my wrath."

"Father, please help him." Andros whispered as he lolled in Apollo's arms. He had lost consciousness again.

"Danae..." Apollo called to her. She ran to his side. He handed her a scroll. "I cannot interfere directly in the prevention of Xiphon's death ... but I can allow you to undo it. This spell has been forbidden to mortals of this age, but I give it to you. It may be used only once." He looked worriedly at Andros. "I must hurry." His face darkened and it was terrible to behold. "See to it that all who have done this pay in full."

The sun god leapt back to his chariot and raced back into the sky. The day was yet young, but the sun set early as Apollo raced back to Olympus with his Andros.

The sorceress read the scroll and gasped.

"What is it Danae?"

"It is a powerful spell - to curse someone with undeath."

"I don't understand."

"This spell, " she said, "will bring the dead back to life. Or rather unlife. You will walk the earth, feeding on the blood of the living, for all eternity until the curse is lifted by one who will willingly take it from you and suffer your fate without hope of release."

"What of Andros?"

"He will return to earth - when, I do not know. Time moves differently in Olympus. What may be a day or month for him may be ages upon ages here. "

"Will we be together again?"

She nodded. "But I cannot say when, Xiphon."

I was fading. I felt myself becoming a wraith. "Hurry, Danae. I cannot last much longer."

* * *

I found myself on the bank of a great, dark river. The far shore was shadowed and despite the throng about me, all was quiet. Deathly quiet. This was the Styx. I was dead. I felt a wrenching sensation and the dark world spun around me. The next moment I found myself staring back into Danae's shocked face.

"Xiphon? Is that you?"

"Danae? Did the spell work?"

She gave me a nod. "You have changed somewhat. I was afraid that instead of the prince I knew and loved, a monster would return."

"What changes have been wrought upon me?"

"Your eyes blaze with a gold-brown fire. And you have fangs."

My tongue felt along my new, sharp teeth. I grinned. Danae encircled me in her arms and held me. Her eyes grew hard and her mouth thinned into a determined line.

"My prince, we have some work to do."

* * *

I was completely healed - there was not a mark on my new, undead body. I ran like the wind across fields and streams, crossed hills with ease and soon found myself back at the palace. Torches were lit and the gossip in all quarters was of the great early sunset and my escape from Leandros. I could hear the faintest sound and see into the darkest corners. I traveled amongst the soldiers, willing them to ignore me - which they did. I searched for and heard a familiar voice - albeit wracked with sobs and recriminations.

"I should not have left! The King sent me on a fool's errand and my prince is dead!" Acheos wailed.

I found the captain in a small pub. The place was nearly empty and my uncle had his head down, pounding the bar with his fist.

"Damn him! Damn him! Damn him! May he be rot in Hades!"

"Acheos ...." I whispered to him. I wrapped a gentle tendril of my will about him. "Come outside."

The captain stopped pounding the bar. His shoulders shook as sobs continued to convulse his body.

"I need some fresh air." He got up and staggered into the street. As he left the tavern, I grabbed his arm and gently pulled him aside. He looked blearily at me and then smiled. He wrapped me in a crushing grip.

"Xiphon! You're alive! Thanks the gods, you're alive!" He looked warily around. "It's not safe for you here, my prince. That she-devil and her whelp have spies everywhere!"

I found it difficult to tell him of my news. "Acheos, look at me." I moved closer to the door of the bar, so it's light could shine upon my face.

He gasped. Had he been a weaker man, he would have fainted dead away. He saw the grim set of my face, my glowing eyes and the sharp fangs descending from my upper jaw.

"You're ... you're ..."

I held him. "I am dead, Acheos. With a spell from Apollo himself, I have become a vykrolax. Thalos killed me and may have killed Andros. I have come here to warn you - take your family and leave the island at once. Danae's vengeance is coming and it will be swift and terrible." I placed a small carved dragon in his hand.

"Speed you home and gather your family. Place a drop of your blood into the dragon's mouth. It will grow and take you and yours to safety. Hurry!"

He ran.

I continued to the palace. At this point I did not bother to mask my presence; several of the soldiers that had been at my near immolation saw me, turned, and ran in terror. Others - foolish mortals - attempted to stop me. My strength was indeed inhuman; I threw some against walls where they lay broken in crumbled heaps; others I grabbed and crushed the life out of them. Still others I bit into their necks and drained them dry. I tossed the empty husks out of my path.

I reached the private apartments of my father and his brood. Melina froze in shock at my appearance. I gave her a wide, wicked grin. My fangs were still bloody from the many soldiers I had dispatched to Hades.

"I have plans for you, Melina ... in the meantime, where is that slow-witted coward you call your son?!"

She shrieked and slammed the door shut. I laughed. I grabbed the side of the lintel, ripping it off it's hinges; then I threw it across the room.

I then saw Thalos - that squint-eyed son of a whore - he screamed louder than his mother. And he hid behind her.

"Surprised, brother mine? You killed me with that poisoned arrow of yours, but I am now beyond the reach of death itself!"

He stared at me, stricken with terror. He tried to flee, but I froze him in place with a glance. I continued.

"You may have killed Andros and you have forced us apart - for how many lifetimes, I do not know. Apollo himself has brought him to Olympus to be healed. Danae and I swore to the sun god that we would make you - all of you - pay dearly for your actions."

In the blink of an eye I was next to my stepbrother. I buried my fangs deep into his neck and bit down hard. I tore the throat from his miserable body and spat it out. He collapsed onto the floor in a pool of spreading blood.

I turned to my stepmother. "You and my addled father I will leave to Danae's tender ministrations. Goodbye, Melina."

I left her screaming as I exited my former home. I looked up to see a dark speck in the sky. It grew to a large dragon that landed neatly in the courtyard. Danae sat astride the beast. She put out her hand.

"Get on, Xiphon! Our revenge is nearly at hand!" The dragon leapt into the air.

It was exhilarating to feel the wind across my face as the dragon flew higher and higher. Crete and the islands below us appeared to be like pebbles in a bowl of water. Danae's voice held a manic note as she wheeled the dragon around.

"Hephaestus himself flew into a rage when Apollo arrived at Olympus. He took one look at Andros and howled. Even Zeus was unsettled at his response."

I shivered, and not from the cool winds wrapping around me. "The god of fire is normally so kind and even-tempered. Why did he react so?"

"Andros was dear to him. His skills in metalworking were rivaled only by the god himself. Besides being with you, my son's greatest joy was the making of works to praise Hephaestus. The god of fire considered him his foster son. Ahhh... it begins! Look below, my prince!"

I watched as smoke began to pour out of the highest peak of Thera. Within moments, I heard a deep rumble and the mountain exploded in liquid fire. A black cloud, in the form of a giant hand, rose from the remnants of the mount and stretched menacingly towards Crete. The smoky fist closed around the island. Our vengeance was complete.

* * *

Apollo's gift of undeath was indeed the curse Danae had predicted. Years stretched into decades, decades into centuries and centuries into millennia. My vampiric powers grew as time passed. After a few centuries, I could command the beasts of the air and of the earth. I could cloak myself in shadow even at the zenith of the sun. I could bend men's wills as easily as a blade of grass.

I traveled the world in search of Andros and yet, never found him. I saw the rise and the fall of Rome; I traveled with Charlemagne in his many campaigns; I fought beside King Henry at Agincourt. I breathed the sweet, clean air of the New World with Spanish conquistadors and I saw the death and destruction in the World Wars of the Twentieth Century. I was present in New York when the great towers fell in a brazen and cowardly attack.

I began to despair of ever finding my love again and over the interminable years my heart hardened in sorrow. I fed upon the wicked and corrupt - there was never a dearth of evil men in any age - and I sated my desires with others, yet always thought of Andros.

I was unique. Of course, I did come upon others like me - the undead, forced to drink human blood. But they were pale and imperfect reflections of myself. No doubt a corruption of the original spell of Apollo. For they were hideous to look upon; these creatures damned to inhabit the night and darkness alone; never to greet Phoebus and his chariot; never again to feel the warmth of the sun on their faces. They feared me as much as I loathed them.

My grief was a terrible burden, and despite the fact that I retained the form of my youth, I struck fear in those who saw my true visage. For I had grown deathly pale over the eons and the only spot of color was the bloody red of my lips. I cloaked myself in glamour to walk amongst the living and to continue my fruitless search.

I was in London. I had recently flown in from San Francisco, and I was irritated. Not a good state for a demigod. A passenger on the flight - a Muslim - was flying into that city to carry out a terrorist plot. I caught the evil stench of his mind as soon as I boarded the plane. Once we were airborne, I casually bent his will to mine and forced him into one of the restrooms. I Fed upon him - not enough to kill, but enough to keep him a slave to my wishes. I impressed upon him the need to turn himself and his co-conspirators into the police. I did not need to have my travels interrupted or hindered by him or his ilk. The plot was foiled as he confessed to the local law enforcement, but my control had not been perfect - the idiot was screaming about a "demon" who attacked him and that news was headlining all the local newspapers.

"Oi, lads - looks like we have another contributor to our charity!"

I had been walking slowly through Regent's Park, deep in thought. I looked up to see a group of three youths - skinhead punks all - blocking my way. They were dressed similarly: snug bleacher jeans cut short to accentuate tight, muscular legs, asses and twenty-eyelet boots; complemented by tight polo shirts highlighting their chiseled torsos and strong arms. The leader - taller than the other two and by far the more handsome, tapped a baseball bat in his hands.

I let a hint of my power flow through my voice. "If you value your miserable lives, leave me!" My eyes blazed and I bared my fangs. Two of them turned and ran. The one in the middle - the one with a black mohawk, stood his ground.

He stared at me and was caught by the spell of my eyes. The baseball bat dropped from his hands and he found himself immobilized. I grinned. Perhaps this was a fortunate incident to relieve my tension. I grabbed the waist of his pants and drew him deeper into the park. We reached a secluded copse of trees.

"Strip." I commanded him. He began to remove his clothes, unable to stop and unable to understand what was happening to him. Naked, he shivered in the cool night air. I looked at him and licked my lips in anticipation at the body in front of me. Firm, chiseled pectorals, a tightly muscled waist and powerful legs were an indication of the pleasure I would soon have. I walked around him, admiring the strong back and firm ass. He had the word "Fucker" tattooed in large, black gothic lettering across his shoulders. He reminded me so much of Andros. Yes, this was just what I needed. My manhood grew painfully erect. I ran a finger down the middle of his chest. He tensed.

"What is your name?"

"G-Guy." he gasped. "What have you done to me?"

"Nothing ... yet." I ran my hands down his flanks. Such smooth skin. I gently held the shaved sides of his head and smoothed his eyebrows with my thumbs. I ran my lips across his jawline and kissed his trembling lips.

"Mister, what do you ..."

"Silence." I continued kissing him. My voice was velvet soft, playing along his nerve endings like the brush of fingertips, warming his skin -- I could tell he wished for an excuse to explain the blush stealing into his face.

"Get on the ground and lie on your back." I commanded. I, too began to undress. I kneeled before him and put his ankles over my shoulders. With a single thrust I buried my tool deep within him. The thief moaned - partly from pain, but mostly from pleasure. I set myself a deep rhythm and plowed in and out of the young man beneath me. Soon, I felt myself reach the point of no return, and with my member buried deep within him, I erupted.

Over the course of lovemaking, I slowly released Guy's will from my own. He held onto me as I took him roughly, urging me to greater and greater passion. Spent, I sank atop him and began to kiss his chest and neck.

"God Almighty, if I had known what you wanted, I would have paid you for the pleas- AHHH!"

I had reached the artery in his neck and bit down. His blood - his essence - began to flow into me. Guy tried to squirm away, but my grip upon him was like iron. Panic gave way to weakness and thence to sweet oblivion. I stopped when he lay cold and still beneath me.

I got up and began to dress again. I looked back at the body I had just drained dry and watched the puncture wounds in the neck close up and heal. I then bent down to search the pockets of his coat for identification. The longer it took for the police to discover the identity of the corpse, the better for me. Guy and his fellow skinheads had indeed been busy this night. I found two wallets in addition to his own. Both were still full of cash; obviously, the trio had not yet divided their spoils of the evening. I put Guy's wallet in my pocket, and whilst I examined the others, I came across a concert ticket; for some odd reason, my eyes were drawn to it.

Royal Albert Hall presents
Bobby Cromwell: In Concert
Seat D24 - Admit One

I took the ticket - having sex with the young crook had indeed been pleasurable, and draining him dry had sated my hunger. Perhaps a bit of music would be a grand end for an unexpectedly pleasant evening.

* * *

Andros paced in his room, waiting for his father to arrive. The young sorcerer had spent nearly four weeks in Olympus and was now eager to return back to earth and to his lover. He heard a clatter of hooves and looked out of the window of the palace to see his father arrive in his sun chariot. Within moments, Apollo came into the room and embraced his son.

He smiled. "You look well, Andros."

The sorcerer returned the embrace. "I feel well, Father. When may I return to earth?"

"Do you find Olympus so boring that you wish to leave so soon?"

"No ... being here with you has been incredible. It just that ... that ... I miss Xiphon."

Apollo grew sombre. "Dearest child, many things have transpired on earth while you were recovering. We should talk about them now."

* * *

The Olympian and his son sat at the dinner table, while servants brought food and drink to them.

"Andros, you were merely scratched by the arrow shot by that pig Thalos and you were near death. What think you happened to Xiphon?"

Andros grew pale. "Is he dead, Father?"

"Yes and no. I could not forestall his death, but I could undo it in a way. With the help of your mother, he has been cursed into a vykrolax - a vampire. Undead, unchanging and immortal until such time that the curse is broken."

"But he has been undead for only a few weeks?"

Apollo nodded. "Four weeks as time passes here on Olympus. Time flows far swifter upon earth, Andros."

"How fast, Father?"

"More than four thousand years have passed below us. Xiphon has sought you unceasingly for all this time ... and still does."

"WHAT!!!"

Andros stood up suddenly. "I must return! I must find him! Help me, Father! Please!"

Apollo took a sip of nectar from his goblet. "Should I do that, Andros, you would be reborn into a new body and your memories washed away. Do you still wish to leave Olympus, live and die and perhaps never find Xiphon? You do not wish to stay here, with me?" The god's face grew sad.

Andros knelt before Phoebus. "Father, you have given me life - twice. My heart shall love you always, whether I remember all or not. But my place is with Xiphon, and I shall search for him as he does for me until Thanatos embraces me for the final time."

Apollo sighed. "Very well, my dearest son. Prepare yourself for a long journey."

* * *

Phoebus traveled through the fog - he feared the meeting he was about to have, yet it was something he needed to do for his son. A tear traveled down his cheek. He had never been as profligate as some of the other gods - nowhere near as randy as Zeus - but he had been with mortals. He had never fathered a child save for Andros - and now he would lose him again - perhaps for eternity.

As he approached the Palace of the Moirae, the door swung silently open.

"Enter Apollo, and be welcome."

He found himself in a great hall. Torches burned on the walls and the Fates awaited him.

"You may approach."

The sun god walked towards the dais at the far end and then knelt on one knee. He bowed his head before the three goddesses. He was trembling.

"Clotho, Lachesis and Atropos - great Fates, to whom even Zeus must obey in all things - I come before you to beg a favor. Not for me, but for my only son, Andros."

"Look upon us, sun god." He raised his head to the three white-clad goddesses. Cold and perfect, beautiful and remorseless, three sets of eyes bore into him.

"You have been quite active of late, interfering in our plans. First bringing your son here, to Olympus to be healed when he was fated to die, and then providing his lover with the forbidden spells of the vykrolax. Why should we do anything to aid you?"

Tears rolled down the god's cheeks. "Forgive me, great ones! Forgive me! Do you not comprehend the pain I felt with my child's injuries? How could I let him suffer in undeserved torment when I could remove it? Do you not understand the love I have for him?" He prostrated himself before the goddess and wept.

"All humanity is our child, Apollo ...." said Clotho softly.

"... and for every mortal, life is full of pain ..." Lachesis chimed.

"... and you have thwarted us in cutting the threads of your son and his lover." Atropos finished.

"Then take my thread! Cut it! Give them a chance to be together once again!"

The Fates looked at each other, shock written across their faces.

"You would do this? You, an immortal, would suffer death for those two?"

"I would!" he cried.

Lachesis produced a spindle. A shining golden filament dangled from the end. Atropos produced a pair of shears and positioned them astride the thread.

"Apollo, this is your thread. Do you swear to give up your life for your son and Xiphon?"

The sun god swallowed hard and nodded. He lowered his head. "Do what you must, Atropos. But give my child and Xiphon a chance to be together again. My foolish anger caused these events to occur - let my death undo the damage and bring them together once more."

The goddesses looked at one another. Atropos put away her shears.

"Apollo ..." Phoebus looked up.

"No god - not even Zeus himself - would have made your sacrifice. Your bravery in approaching us and your willingness to die in Andros' stead has changed our minds. Ask what you will, and we will grant it."

"Will you allow Andros to return to earth and find his lover? To allow him to be with Xiphon once more?"

The Fates nodded. "We cannot permit him his memory, but we will allow him deep yearnings and dreams that will only be fulfilled when he again is with Xiphon."

"We require one thing from you, Apollo ..." Clotho unwound the smallest sliver from Apollo's golden thread. The god screamed in pain, writhing on the floor.

"This piece of life we hold for Xiphon until he again is reunited with Andros. When the curse is broken, he will be given back his mortality."

* * *

Apollo and his son stood beside the Pool of Rebirth. The waters of the pool were fed by the River Lethe; those returning to earth would have their memories washed away when they reincarnated into a new body.

The god embraced the sorcerer. "The Fates have sworn to me that you will be reunited with Xiphon, my son. May Hermes speed you on your journey."

Andros looked at the pool. "But how will I find him, Father? How will I find Xiphon if I cannot remember him?"

The sun god took a chalice and filled it with water from a winesack he carried. "This is water from the River Mnemosyne. It will prevent your deepest desires from being lost when you are reborn."

Andros took the chalice and swallowed the contents. "Goodbye, Father..."

He jumped into the pool.

* * *

A number of men sat in the waiting room. All of them had a worried and expectant look about them. A doctor in surgical greens came through the swinging door. Eight sets of eyes swiveled and locked onto the figure.

"Mr. Franqui?"

Dominic Franqui looked up. He bit his lip.

The doctor smiled. "Congratulations! You have a healthy baby boy! He and his mother are doing fine!"

The mob boss grinned and let out a deep breath. He had not been aware that he had been holding it. The other fathers stood and congratulated him. He received handshakes, hugs and pats on his back. He broke out a number of Cuban cigars.

* * *

I settled myself into the plush seat and relaxed. I thought back. The last time I had attended a concert was in the Weimar Republic in 1921. My, how deliciously decadent that evening had been!

The house lights dimmed and the symphony began to play. A spotlight appeared and a lovely, titian-haired beauty entered from stage left to loud applause. She gave a wide smile and bow. She began to sing.

Quando sono solo
Sogno allorizzonte
E mancan le parole
Si lo so che non ce luce
In una stanza
Quando manca il sole
Se non ci sei tu con me, con me.
Su le finestre
Mostra a tutti il mio cuore
Che hai acceso
Chiudi dentro me
La luce che hai incontrato per strada
Time to say goodbye
Paesi che non ho mai
Veduto e vissuto con te
Adesso si li vivro.
Con te partiro
Su navi per mari
Che io lo so
No no non esistono piu
Its time to say goodbye.

It was a haunting tune and her contralto voice matched her beauty. A male voice took up the song and another spotlight appeared at stage right. The tenor - obviously Bobby Caldwell - stepped into the light.

I gasped. Andros! My lover! My lover had finally come back to me!

Quando sei lontana
Sogno allorizzonte
E mancan le parole E io si lo so
Che sei con me con me
Tu mia luna tu sei qui con me
Mio sole tu sei qui con me
Con me con me con me

His voice - by the gods - his voice! It was clear and strong, a blend of seduction, command, and a throaty purr that nearly stopped my heart. It was as I dreamed, so many eons ago. There was a darkly sensual new thread of power in Bobby's voice - a whisper of sin, erotic and provocative, that made my manhood grow to painfully pleasurable proportions. His head was shaved smooth; the skin glistened and his eyes were the same wine-dark blue as I remembered.

Time to say goodbye
Paesi che non ho mai
Veduto e vissuto con te
Adesso si li vivro.
Con te partiro
Su navi per mari
Che io lo so
No no non esistono piu
Con te io li rivivro.
Con te partiro
Su navi per mari
Che io lo so
No no non esistono piu

I was enthralled. The grief and sorrow of four millennia dropped from me as I watched him perform. By Poseidon, he was incredible! He looked down at the audience as he was singing and saw me. His mouth, beautifully sculpted and sinfully inviting, drew my gaze. Granted, the reflected light from the stage was probably not sufficient for mortal eyes, but he nearly stopped in shock. The woman - Emily Rossum, I discovered - began to sing again and the duet's voices were enchanting; they twined around each other, blending into a whole that I had never before heard.

Con te io li vivro
Con te partiro su navi per mari
che io lo so
no no non esistono piu
con te io li vivro
Con te partiro

(listen here)

The two finished the song. There were several more duets, along with pieces sung solely by the lovely Emily, as well as those sung by Cromwell ... Andros. I could not wait for the concert to end; I wanted to hold my love in my arms and crush his lips against mine.

* * *

It was child's play to get backstage. I needed but the barest whisper of my abilities to pass through the crowded, rushing thong of performers, stage hands, managers and chorus to get to dressing room. There was a bodyguard outside of his door; I merely fogged his mind and froze him momentarily. I knocked on the door.

"C'mon in!"

I closed it quietly behind me. Bobby was washing his face. He had stripped off his shirt, revealing the athletic body beneath. Muscles rippled beneath taut skin tanned golden brown. His stomach was an etched map of rifts and plateaus; his chest was smooth, firm and strong. He finished toweling his face dry and stared at me in shock.

"YOU! I saw you in the audience! I thought I was going nuts!"

"It has been too long, my love. I have waited an eternity for you..."

I wrapped my arms around him. At that slight contact, a whip of lightning leapt into his bloodstream, arcing and crackling, sizzling hot. He returned the embrace. I felt him melt into me.

"All my life, I've seen your face in my dreams. I never knew who you were, or when or where or if we would meet. I only knew that we should be together. Seeing you tonight was a total shock."

"Really?" My voice was low, one eyebrow shooting up. I grinned at him then. A self-assured, know-it-all, wicked smile. It changed my face completely, chasing away the shadows and the deep sadness that even the glamour could not completely mask. He looked young and handsome and delectably appealing. His breath caught in his lungs, and his heart stopped beating. He could only stare helplessly at me. I nuzzled his neck and felt the strong pulse of his blood. I licked that spot where the artery lay just beneath his skin. He moaned in pleasure. I continued kissing him - the edge of his jaw, the hollow of this throat. I stroked his arms as I bent my head to his chest. I swirled my tongue around the firm nipples. His rushed intake of breath was eroding my self-control.

"Who are you?"

I was about to answer when his mouth found mine instantly, hot and possessive. His fist tangled in my hair, pulling my head back. He slid his hands boldly beneath my shirt, wanting to feel my skin. His mouth roamed my face, my throat, hungrily, flames racing through his bloodstream so that he could only think of me. My scent, my taste, my touch.

At that point, my desires had reached a boiling point. After eons of drinking blood, I needed to taste my lover again. I bit gently down into his neck as I was kissing him and let the faintest trickle of blood pass my lips.

"Oh, shit... oh, shit ... more... MORE!" he breathed as he held me even more tightly. His hands squeezed my back and traveled down to grab my ass and crush me against him as I licked the blood from his neck.

"Hey, boss. You want something to eat...?" The door opened to admit the bodyguard. We both looked up. I had blood on my chin, and Andros ... Bobby ... had his neck wound dribbling scarlet onto his naked chest. His protector whipped out a pistol.

I reacted.

I knocked the gun out of his hand in less than the blink of an eye and ran from the room.

I heard my love shout at the bodyguard. "Cristano! NO! Stop!"

* * *

Rather than repeat the same mistake, I uncovered the location of Bobby's hotel and decided to wait for him in his room. I thought it prudent not to appear at the theatre again. After a time, I heard the outer door open. I reached out with my senses and felt my love and the bodyguard Cristano again. This time, I carefully blurred the man's thoughts. As he examined each room with gun drawn, he was unable to see me sitting in the chair next to the fireplace.

"All clear, boss."

"Thanks bud, but there wasn't any need to pull out your piece last night. He wasn't hurting me."

The bodyguard shook his head. "If you're bleeding, boss, you're hurt. I don't take it lightly when anyone tries to do anything to you."

Cristano tucked the gun into his shoulder holster and grabbed Bobby about the waist. He gave him a gentle kiss on the lips.

"I'll be outside if you need me."

At that point, I felt a surge of jealousy roar through me. I wanted nothing more than to tear the throat out of the other man. The rage passed.

Cromwell removed his jacket and placed it over the back of the sofa. Regardless of the bright lights in the hotel room, I gathered around me a deep shadow.

"My love..."

Bobby spun around at the sound of my voice. He could make out a figure sitting in the chair, but the lamps could not pierce the gloom around me.

He moved towards me. "Stop." I commanded. There was a grimness to my voice, a hard and implacable warning.

"Sit down, my dearest one. You need to know of your past. Our past."

* * *

"Xiphon, you're telling me that you're a 4000 year-old vampire and we were lovers in ancient Greece?"

"Not Greece, Andros. Crete. Greece was not even a glimmer of thought in men's minds at that time."

"And I was a sorcerer?"

"And the son of Apollo himself. Beloved of Hesphaestus. He took you to Olympus to be healed. We were both poisoned by an arrow from my half-brother. The sun god gave your mother - a powerful sorceress in her own right - the spell which made me as I am. To allow me to wait for your return."

Bobby put his head in his hands. "I just can't believe this ... it's so damn fantastic ..."

"My love, answer me this: were you a sickly babe?"

Cromwell's head snapped up.

"Ah, I can see it was so ... were you near death? Were you cured by a sorceress?"

Bobby swallowed hard. He nodded. "I was dying. No one else could cure me. He was a brilliant geneticist."

"The Fates provide us with a congruence to our lives. I, too was a frail child. Danae, your mother cured me."

I had lifted the shadow from me as we spoke. I had not yet released my hold of the glamour which hid my true visage from him. I sat beside him on the couch and I held his face in my hands as I kissed him.

"The eons have wrought changes upon me which I hide from mortal eyes. Do you wish to see me as I truly am? It may not be pleasant."

I could feel a tremor of fear pass through him. "Yes."

I knelt before him and took his hands in my own. I bowed my head and let the glamour drop from me like a discarded cloak. I raised my head and looked into his eyes.

He gasped, but did not pull away. Bobby stared at my pale visage and my fangs. My eyes glowed but did not enthrall; tears, tinged pink with blood - ran down my cheeks. He shakily traced the line of my jaw with his fingertips and he smoothed the thick sable hair from my forehead.

"Jesus Christ ... you've waited this long for me?"

I rubbed my cheek against his hand. "As I would have waited for all eternity to be with you again."

He knelt down beside me. Bobby bent his head and fastened his mouth to mine. Just like that he created magick, fanning a fire from smouldering embers to flames that raced through my bloodstream; my body throbbed and pulsed in reaction. I felt my fangs scrape his lips and tasted the sweet tang of his blood on my tongue. I grew hard.

I bent his head closer. "Give yourself to me, Bobby, and I swear you will never regret it." My voice whispered over his skin like warm silk, hypnotic, seductive - lethal. Wickedly, sinfully lethal. My lips moved slowly, gently over his, coaxing him to open his mouth to me. And then I was taking him into my world of heat and fire, of pure feeling.

I was everywhere, everything, my hands moving over his body, my mouth welded to his, my hair brushing our skin, sensitizing it even more. He couldn't think for wanting me. He had no idea the fire inside him could burn so bright, rage so out of control.

Within moments, we found ourselves unclothed on the soft rug. With a thought, I made the wood in the fireplace burst into flame. I stroked those muscular flanks as I had centuries ago and licked the hard mounds of his chest.

He moaned in exquisite pleasure. "I want you in me, Xiphon ... now. Please ... oh dearest God, please!!"

I grabbed his calves and positioned his legs onto my shoulders. Slowly, so slowly I entered him.

He cried out. "Deeper, Xiphon! Deeper!"

I urged my manhood further into him. He thrashed about in pleasure. His arms tightened around me and brought us even closer; I began to thrust into him - long unhurried strokes filled with joy and passion. At the zenith of our lovemaking, I felt myself gather and explode within him. A heartbeat after, my lover erupted. As I did so many, many ages ago, I licked him clean. Spent, I lay atop him, cradling him within my arms. I felt his pulse beneath my lips. I licked his neck.

"I know what you want to do, handsome ... go ahead ..." he breathed. He blue eyes looked deep into mine.

I hesitated. "I don't know if my repeated feedings of you will turn you into a vykrolax as well."

He traced my lips with his fingertips. "I don't care. My place is with you. Whichever way that happens."

I pulled his arms over his head and entwined my fingers within his. I held him captive as I bit into his neck. Softly. Gently.

"Ohhhh, fuck ... ohhhh, yeah ...." he moaned. I straddled his body as I opened the vessel in his neck and drank deeply.

But only a mouthful.

I kissed the wounds in his neck until they closed up and healed. I carried Bobby into the bedroom and put him in bed. By this time, he had fallen asleep. I lay down next to him and wrapped my arm protectively about his naked body. And for the first time in four thousand years, I drifted off to sleep as well.

* * *

I had strange dreams - of a grinning Apollo, the three Moirae - their stern visages softened by smiles, of a bright golden thread falling from the sky - twisting and catching the light as it descended.

I don't know what woke me first - the first warm rays of the sun striking my face, or the heavy metallic "thunk" of a pistol being cocked. I opened my eyes to stare at a barrel pointed at me and the harsh mien of Cristano. Bobby murmured in his sleep and pulled me closer.

"Let go of him ... slowly ... and get out of the bed." he whispered. He gestured to me with the gun. "Over there."

I attempted to capture his mind with my gaze, but failed. Odd. Very odd. As I left my lover I noticed that my skin no longer had its customary ashen pallor. I looked at my hands, my arms, down my legs. I saw nothing but healthy human skin - mortal skin - golden tan stretched over my muscular frame. I ran my tongue along my teeth - my fangs were gone.

I knelt down on the floor and began to laugh - at first I chuckled, then full-blown gales of mirth escaped my lips. Bobby woke up and blearily looked at the tableau in front of him: me, on the floor laughing like a madman and his bodyguard, holding the gun on me and unsure how to proceed.

"Cristano, put the gun away."

"But Bobby....??"

"I said - put the gun away. NOW." His tone brooked no argument.

"By the gods! I'm mortal! I'm mortal again!" I laughed. He slithered out of the bed and padded over to me. He lifted me up and embraced me. He crushed his lips to mine; we were both breathless when he let go. He looked hard at me, caressing my face and arms; kissing my jaw and nibbling at my neck. I sighed in pleasure and held him closer to me.

He smiled. "Well, Xiphon - we've got a lot of catching up to do ... about four thousand years worth..."

* * *

Along with masking, vampires always fascinated me. Not the Nosferatu or Count Orloff types - ugly, misshappen beings of darkness, but more along the Anne Rice/Laurell Hamilton ones - handsome, sometimes cruel, sometimes heart-broken, immortal long term planners. When I saw the Vamp mask from Greyland, I always thought of doing a story involving my favorite monster.

I also wanted the character of the vampire to be cursed with his undeath, rather than succumb to it for purely selfish reasons - unlike the Jason Patric character in "The Lost Boys." A similar situation confronted the magician Schmendrick in the Last Unicorn. In that novel, the magician was cursed with immortality until such time he could perform a spell worthy of his true potential.

All along, I had plans for someone to be the foil of the vampire prince. As it turned out, it became Bobby. As I was writing "The Elixir" the plot elements for this story started to sprout and germinate; to twist and turn around each other. Bobby, initially a secondary character, grew in stature until he became an AE in his own right. Along with Phil, Bobby is one of the few characters that I have not yet instantiated with a mask. I hope to do so someday - hopefully soon.