Chapter 62 - True Confessions

In the early morning hours, after Vladimir went to work and Hope went to sleep, Delia went back down into the hidden basement to make another batch of Elixirs. She had some excellent ingredients and was anxious to make some of her "good" potions. In her rush to get downstairs with her arms full of plants, she accidentally left the bookcase door open. 

Delia quickly became engrossed in what she was doing. She didn't hear her husband come home earlier than normal that morning. 

The first thing Vladimir noticed when he walked in the front door was that the bookcase was pulled away from the wall. He went over to see why it was moved and that is when he saw it wasn't just moved. It revealed a hidden passageway. He looked inside as saw a spiral staircase. He was shocked.  He had no idea this existed. Vladimir walked quietly down the stairs to investigate further. 

The hair stood up on the back of his neck as he walked down the stairs and saw his beautiful, delicious Delia in this eerily strange room pouring and mixing strange concoctions in what appeared to be a cauldron of sorts and totally oblivious to his presence.

Vladimir stood silently and watched as Delia mixed, measured, stirred and finally completed a yellow potion which she carefully poured into several bottles.  It wasn’t until then that she became aware of him standing there. 

 

Delia almost fainted when she saw him.  Her heart was pounding out of her chest. No one, no one alive anyway, knew her secrets.  Now he would.

“What are you doing Delia? What are you? Who are you? What is this?” demanded Vladimir getting louder with each question.

He frightened her so much.  She had never heard him so angry before and she couldn’t blame him.

“Vladimir, I – I don’t – it’s just –oh God,” she mumbled and started to cry, “Please, let me try to explain." When he ignored her stammering and began to more closely inspect his new surroundings, Delia continued, "Oh no! Vladimir – don’t …please." He no longer heard her. 

He saw the pictures hanging on the wall. They were of Delia with and a man and three boys – a toddler, a child and a teenager.  The man and two oldest boys had stained purple faces. It appeared to be a family portrait from some event they attended together. Then there was another one of her and the man arm in arm looking very happy indeed. There were pictures of teenagers at proms. “Delia! Who are these people?” he demanded.  “It’s a long story Vladimir,” she said quietly as tears silently streamed down her face. “Well I have time. What else is in here?” he said as he continued his investigation of the basement.

There was another set of framed pictures and a single rose sitting on a desk with an old computer. The man in the picture had eyes that were the exact same blue as his Delia's. He would know those eyes anywhere.  “And who are these?  Relatives I assume?” asked Vladimir.  “Yes, I think….I think it’s my father and mother,” whispered Delia.  “YOU THINK?” yelled Vladimir, “and you keep them here like a shrine? And these Urns! Whose ashes are they?" Delia just cried softly to herself. She knew she should have read her mother’s journals. The computer had been broken for a long time and she was simply using that as yet another excuse not to know.

He continued around the room stopping next at the collection of exotic insects.  “Why, Delia? Do you make magic with these – are you a witch?  I thought you were part fairy, not part witch too,” he blurted.  Delia just stared at him.  She didn’t know what he meant or what to say. 

Next Vladimir opened the chest that held some of her most precious gems and seeds.  

He looked at the cabinet that contained even more of her collections.  The gold bars that Goodwin had created along with some of the more ‘evil’ potions she refused to sell or ever make again.   “What do these do Delia? Do you use them to hurt those you no longer want in your life?  To change people you don’t like into toads – to make people do what you want them to do?” he asked.  “NO! Of course not; I would never hurt anyone!” Delia vehemently replied at the outrageousness of his accusation.  

“And look over here…a fairy house," said Vladimir. Then he looked at her and muttered, "You ARE a fairy. But perhaps an evil fairy – how could I have missed that?”  “I am NOT a fairy – why do you keep saying that?” said Delia, “It’s only a doll house.  There is no such thing as fairies anyway.”

Then Vladimir saw the Philosopher’s Stone and said, “Well, and here we have the grand finale; The Philosopher’s Stone.”  “NO!” screamed Delia when he looked like he was going to try to use it, “Don’t touch it.  It is dangerous – please don’t – please Vladimir!” and she started to cry even harder.

Vladimir heard her this time and, taking her at her word, stopped what he was doing . Then he really looked at Delia for the first time since he began the tour of the basement.  She was a mess, crying and shaking and seemed to be very frightened.  He calmed himself. He needed to understand what he was dealing with and who all of the people in the photographs were and who’s ashes those were that she had kept down here.  He didn’t want his to among them.

“Okay Delia,” he said in a much calmer tone, “let’s get out of here before Hope wakes up. We obviously need to talk.”  She just nodded and followed him out of the basement into the living room.  They sat on the old yellow couch and Delia began to tell Vladimir everything. They talked for hours. Delia cried and Vladimir tried to be calm as he listened to her crazy story. She was worried he would leave her, but it felt good to share the secret she had been keeping for so many years. Valdimar thought it had to be true. He saw the evidence downstairs. When she got to the part where they met, he realized she must indeed have made herself younger. He just hadn't really thought about her age.

When Delia could hardly talk anymore, Vladimir thought for a minute. He needed this woman in his life. She had been to Hell and back if her stories were true and that daughter of hers, well she would be a good treat to have no doubt. But Delia had to know about him. It looked like tonight was going to be true confessions, well almost true.  He wasn’t going to tell her he was trying to take over the vampire nest in Bridgeport. But he had earned it. He was going on 400 years old. It was rule or be ruled in the vampire world. Yes, he thought, this was the perfect time to tell her. She had no choice but to accept him as he was going to accept her. He had no choice as far as accepting her was concerned; but now that he knew her secrets, he would be able to control his beautiful, delicious and mysterious little blonde wife.

“Come here Delia, let me hold you,” he said soothingly. "I can't believe that I actually believe everything you have told me." He put his arm around his wife to calm her before he could let her know his secret.   

Vladimir held Delia for a few minutes and then he kissed her sweetly. He felt tension leaving her body as they kissed.

Delia was tired and he was VERY thirsty. As she extracted herself from his embrace and got off the couch, he stopped her. He gently wiped the tears from her face and told her he loved her. Then Vladimir told her he had his own secret to share. This scared Delia as she thought of Pierre’s words to her just weeks before his wedding. She prayed it wouldn't be as awful as what she had just told him .  

Vladimir started, “Delia, remember the girl in the Elixir shop you turned into a vampire?  Well, darling, that is what I am. That is probably why I am buying your story. I am a vampire. And yes, before you even ask, I need to drink blood to survive.”  Delia just stared at him unbelievingly. How could she not have known?

While Delia tried to process what he just told her, he continued, “Let me drink from you sweetheart, I promise I won’t hurt you - or turn you into a vampire. You will only feel my love.” Delia didn’t know what to do or think. This was not at all what she expected to hear. He was still talking to her and looking straight into her soul.  “Come darling, come closer to me. If you love me, let me do this. I could never hurt you.” 

Delia began to feel light headed as he touched her face again.  Then before she knew what was happening, he leaned into her. It was a very familiar feeling somehow. He moved her hair away from her neck exposing her vein that was pulsating widely as her heart was beating so hard and fast. When he bit her, at first it hurt and then she just floated away with him. It was erotic -somehow.

After he drank from her he didn’t need to erase her memory this time. He needed her to have it and to want it again and again. Then, he picked her up and carried her up to their bed where they both had dessert. The two of them slept like the dead that night.

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