Demon Vampire

Part 2

     Part 2

A few nights later Romero was pacing through the large basement of his mansion, his favorite room. He kept his huge black coffin and a few items from his human life. Hope Chest, his old mahogany desk, trinkets from before the world changed for him. Continuing to pace back and forth. He kept thinking, getting nowhere. Conflicted as to rather or not he would help the demon. He didn't mind helping other creatures, even demons once in a blood moon, but with Syluss, something seemed off. He wasn't sure the demon was telling him the truth, or atleast the whole truth. Why would he want to possess a mortal ? What business could he possibly have in the mortal realm? Was he starting a demonic war? Romero had more questions before he could possibly give the demon an answer.

When he'd helped others, there would be a fee. He didn't expect much, a half pint of blood would usualy do it. Not enough to kill, but enough so he wouldn't starve. However in this case it was different. He had an aversion to demon's blood. It didn't agree with him. It made him ruthless and vindictive with an uncontrollable thirst for blood. It was as if he'd been possessed by the essence of pure evil. The last time it was horrific, he shuddered as the memory resurfaced, again.

There were bodies everywhere. The mortals called it a Black Plague, there was no such disease. It was Romero's demon thirst that caused the thousands of deaths across europe. He then went into hiding, smuggling onto the first ship he could find, destined for America.

He shook those memories back, he needed to concentrate on the present, not his wicked past. Demons were not known for their patience. He knew if he didn't give the demon an answer soon, he'd hunt him down. When a demon wanted to hunt someone down, they didn't stop until they found you. If the demon had to track him down it wouldn't be a pleasant meeting and he knew it. He needed to think straight. He was willing to help, but didn't want to screw himself in the process. What if it was some sort of plot for revenge? Romero felt stuck in a crossroad. He'd most likely help Syluss, but would he regret it? He was almost positive this would end badly. Demons never did anything out of the goodness of their hearts. He must need to do something important, but what? Growling, aggravated by the entire mess, sick of thinking about it, let alone dealing with it. He didn't know what to tell the demon, if he should help him or not. It was maddening.

As Romero was conflicted, Syluss was fuming. Where was the vampire and why in the hell did he need to think about it? Why did he care what happens to a random human? They were his food. Syluss never understood the dramatic behavior of a vampire. A bloodthirsty monster with morals, come on now. Why was the vampire taking so long to give him a straight answer? It was just insane.

He never understood these upper realm creatures. Not just vampires and other supernatural creatures, but humans as well. They had to think about everything, all thought and no action. It was an irritating trait. The whole thing boiled down to free will; a pain in the universe. He must have been up here too long because now he was doing it, too. Sitting in a small cave, thinking. He hated it here, but needed his Jayelle. If nothing else, he needed to make sure her current incarnation wasn't a miserable one.

He couldn't help but sulk around the cave, with nothing better to do; no word from the only creature that could help him. He loathed asking for help. A self rli9ant demon who didn't care for any other creature besides his mate. Why did the angels have to forgive her sins and make me come up here? He liked it down below, it was home. It was warm, comforting. All of his things were there. He'd been born a demon, rarely leaving the underworld... until now. He wasn't real happy with fate right now.

Out of frustration, ramming his fist through the cave wall. It hurt, but not enough for him to worry over. He was of high demon rank, pain and suffering didn't bother him. Until he'd met Jayelle, nothing mattered to him. He hated being at the mercy of another, especially a vampire of all things. What was taking so long? What was Romero's big problem here? All he had to do was turn the mortal and hand it over.