The Comanche Vampire by Lee Ann Sontheimer Murphy Page A

eternity, Ned’s misery made him feel more alive
than he had since the late 1880’s.  
    He
smoked as his thoughts flew wild in all directions like birds into the
sky.   Ned reflected on the things he’d
done, the lives he’d taken without remorse, the objects taken without guilt,
raids made and mayhem done.   He’d made
more war than love, revenge had burned in his gut with a terrible heat, and
he’d fought hard to the bitter last.   His
memories made him think he must’ve been evil but then Ned remembered how he’d
cared for his wife, loved his children, and how he’d carried a burden in his
heart for his people.   He thought of good
times and bad, quiet moments of contentment and times of unbridled rage.    Then, he’d been a Comanche warrior, product
of his people, creation of his time and circumstance.   He’d been no better than most, worse than
some, maybe, but not all.   He’d lived by
a code of honor, one few in this modern world would understand but it mattered
then and had fit.
    Ned
replayed the night he’d been made into a bloodsucker.   He recalled those early years, his
self-loathing and shame.   Once again, he
couldn’t say he’d been all positive, but neither had he been a negative
force.   Over the years he’d changed, more
than he’d realized until now.   Pea’hocso in his prime would’ve never felt remorse for
anything he did, for he’d lived the way of a warrior.   However, Ned Big Eagle regretted many things
he’d done in his distant past.   His
solitary existence had evolved as a sort of penance, he realized, born out of a
sense of shame.
    As
a vampire, he’d always felt unworthy and wrong.   His emotions kept him apart but some sense of honor, one not so far
removed from his days of war, kept Ned from becoming a greedy, vindictive evil
creature.   The woman who had turned him
had been the latter.   He’d never thought
of it before but he could’ve wreaked havoc on the blue coat soldiers, making as
many as he could into vampires.   He could
have used his situation to punish anyone who offended him or whom he disliked but
he hadn’t.
    Who am I now? What am I now? Ned wondered.   He tried to imagine telling Anne the truth,
sharing with her his stark and shocking reality but he failed.   Every possible way he could summon up ended
with her scorn, fear, or disbelief.   But,
sometime she’d have to know or they couldn’t remain in a relationship or share
love.   Part of Ned wanted to wake her and
tell her, blunt and without any explanation.   Another side of his soul devised ways to hide and not share the
truth.   As he considered the options, he
focused with such intensity he failed to hear Anne join him.
    “What’s
the matter?” she said, in her lilting voice.   Her hand touched his shoulder and he glanced up at her.  
    Ned
took her hand and held it. “Nothing,” he lied. “Sit down with me if you want.”
    “You
look so strange,” she said as she joined him. “You seem upset and worried.   What is it?”
    He
drew a deep breath. “I’m not the man you think I am, Anne.”
    Her
frown line appeared, faint but present. “What do you mean?”
    “I’ve
done things you couldn’t imagine,” he told her. “I’m nothing like you think.”
    In
the flickering firelight, she’d never seemed more beautiful.   The flames reflected in her eyes and made
them molten.   Anne stared into his face
without blinking and her hand tightened against his. “I know enough to love
you,” she said. “And whatever else there may be, I know all I need to know.
You’re a good man, Ned, with a fine heart.   You love the old ways, but you’re not afraid to live in the present. You
bring strength wherever you go and you’re caring, considerate.”
    Each
word struck his chest like a well-aimed arrow shot from an enemy bow. “Maybe I’m
only like that with you or maybe you see me that way because you love me, not
because I am.”
    “Huh-uh,”
Anne said.