A VAMPIRE ELOIM STORY. The Demon, The Witch and a Teenage Vampire The vampire Eloim book 3 part 17.

“It’s Saturday September the first, the year of our lord, sixteen sixty six.” The priest replied.
Eloim looked at the priest as comprehension sank in. “Sixteen sixty six is quite a long time ago for me. This could prove difficult as I’m not very good with dates, or with grasping how long you humans live,” Eloim began. “Have you ever heard of Vivian Westwood?”
The priest shook his head, starting to relax a little because the strange vampire showed no signs of killing him.
“How about Christian Louboutin or Jimmy Choo? I really need some boots, these slippers have fallen apart.” Eloim asked but got a blank look from the priest.
“Fendi then, what about Rockport, everyone knows Rockport and they’ve been around for a lot of years.” Eloim pressed but still the priest gave him blank looks. “So you’re telling me you’ve heard of none of those?”
The priest shook his head; he had no idea what he was being asked.
Eloim opened his mouth to speak and stopped. He ran his tongue over his top teeth and thought for a moment. “What is that strange smell?” Eloim finally asked, his thoughts becoming distracted by it.
“The bakery downstairs, the good baker Mr. Farriner will be starting cooking tomorrow’s loaves.” The priest answered on firmer ground.
“Smells nice,” Eloim said in appreciation. Then with a shrug, he realised he was quite hungry and without a second thought, he bit into the priest’s throat and began to drink.

Eloim stood by the shuttered window, absently spinning the ring on his finger. The ring seemed warm to the touch since Alexia’s mist-like essence had entered it, it seemed to be alive, almost. He had watched the few humans around at this late hour out in the street, a filthy place, full of filthy people.
Silently he cursed and turned to look back around the small room. The priest had quenched his hunger for now and with the time well past midnight, he wouldn’t need to feed again tonight. He knew he faced some serious problems and for the first time, he didn’t have his family on hand to help him out.
Firstly he had no idea how to survive in the time that he found himself in and still wasn’t sure how far back it time was. To most Vampires, the passing of the years was something they took little notice of. To Eloim, it was something he totally ignored beyond fashion shows and new collections.
Secondly, his clothes were torn and dirty and the priest only appeared to have the cassock he was wearing and there was no sign of a wardrobe. The horror of being stuck here without his own wardrobe of clothes was almost more than he could bear. How could he survive for... well, however long it really was, it didn’t sound good without even one pair of Jimmy Choos?
Walking over to the circle, he picked up a small candle and lit it with a taper from the fireplace. Placing the candle on a desk, he started to leaf through the papers and books before quickly moving on to a large wooden chest that also contained scrolls and scraps of material. As he rummaged through the chest, he came across a larger piece of material. Quickly, he pulled out the scrolls, placing them on the desk, inadvertently covering the still lit candle stub. Standing up, he inspected the material to discover it was a large, black, hooded cloak. He pulled it on and was pleased to see it completely covered his clothes.
Without a backward glance, he headed for the door, not noticing the smoke that had started to rise from the table. The cloak smelled of human sweat and filth but at least he would be able to go out into the street to find a shop and get a change of clothes that would fit in around the city.
Coming out of a side entrance to the building, he walked down into the street and paused before turning left. Hearing horsemen coming down the street, he dropped back into the deep shadows of an alleyway and waited for them to pass. The three horsemen paused at the corner and Eloim saw that each one wore armour covered by long cloaks.
“The thief is hiding above a bakery in Pudding Lane. The Cardinal says to kill him only after we have recovered the ring,” one of the men whispered.
“What would make a priest steal the relics of the Vatican?” another asked.
“The Cardinal says he seeks to raise and control a demon,” the first horseman answered. “Luckily he stole the wrong spell. He has the scroll of summoning and not the scroll of control. If he tries the ceremony it will do nothing as the demon named in the spell is already bound within the ring.”
The horsemen moved on around the corner and Eloim set off on his way, keeping to the deeper shadows in case more Vatican soldiers were around. Within a few minutes, he heard a disturbance from the direction he had come and he hid himself again as he heard the horsemen riding away at great speed. The noise of the galloping horses started a couple of dogs barking and then he heard a man shouting.
“Fire! The baker’s in Pudding Lane is a-fire!”
With a shrug, Eloim set off into the night in search of a boutique to steal some clothes from as the great fire of London took its first tentative steps towards destroying the city.

The end.
Eloim continues his adventures in the Knights of Blood.