Nine years had come and gone. They had lived as far south as New Orleans and were now living in Texas. He taught her how to read, how to read the stars, and about the history of the Lucians. She would often sing for Darben; her voice was the most beautiful thing he had ever heard. Yet, living in Texas made Darben even more nervous for himself and Natalia. Natalia was wild; never understanding that her powers as a vampire couldn’t overcome the bigotry and hatred some mortals seem to have about the color of one’s skin. She had made a conscious effort to only feed off of the blood of whites. However, to Darben, it seemed reasonable. He had been pleading with her that they should leave and head farther north, where there was less bigotry. But Natalia was adamant.
“The South’s my home, Darbun. If the white man won’t accept me as their equal,” she said, “I’ll just make them my prey.”
“My love. You simply hate too deeply. Such hate will blind you, and you will not see the danger that surrounds you,” he cautioned her. “The strength of a vampire can also, one day, be his or her greatest weakness.”
From the look on her young face, he really couldn’t tell if she truly understood what he was telling her. But by her actions that night, he knew that she didn’t. She went out feeding alone, he had warned her about doing such a thing ever since word had gotten out that there were some 'black demons' out eating white folks alive. He had pleaded with Natalia to never go out alone by herself, but she ignored him.
She was going after a white man traveling alone when his screams got the attention of many others nearby. Soon, she had been surrounded by dozens of torch-carrying white men. She fought off as many as she could, but one among them seemed to understand what she was, and how to bring her down.
He drove a stake right through her heart, killing her. The men immediately began to beat her corpse with clubs; smashing her fangs from her mouth, then stringing her naked, beaten body up high on a tree by the neck as they celebrated.
Later, Darben went out in search for her. The night didn't feel right to him. There was the faint hint of burnt wood in the air. He followed what looked like the remains of burnt torches, leading to an unnatural branch left hanging from a tree. His knees buckled at the sight as his mouth gaped wide in horror. He was trying to breathe as tears began to race down his face at the sight of her brutally maimed body. Quickly, he leaped into the tree to untie her. With care, he removed the noose from around her neck, cradling her in his arms, screaming and weeping loudly.
He carried her broken body back to their humble home, every so often along the way, becoming so overcome with grief that he would have to stop before continuing on, stumbling upon the ground with her body in his arms, weeping bitterly to the point of nausea. Once home, he placed her inside his coffin that morning, holding on to her tightly like when they first met.
But when the sun set that evening, he awoke blinded by vengeance. He grabbed a bottle of Whiskey, which seemed to add a strong venom to his hunger. It was like pouring kerosene over a smoldering fire. He drank deeply from the bottle, gazing at her broken body inside the coffin. He wished she had listened to him. The South was no place for vampires. He knew it was time to leave Texas. But before he would leave, there was a matter he had to settle. Grabbing his sword, he kissed the bruised lips one last time, taking a few things with him before setting fire to the tiny home with her remains inside, leaving in the night.
