I returned to my room that night scintillating with excitement. I had done it. Made direct contact with Melina Vespucci, the "Vampiress of Mykonos," according to my source, Kimiko and her Internet interceptions. Melina was everything a good vampire chaser could ask for, though, throughout all my research, I never dreamed I would morph from "research fellow" into "vampire hunter"--let alone actually meet a celebrated revenant so up-close and personal.

       My perceptions of Melina were captivating. She was beautiful, mysterious and had a surprisingly playful attitude which frankly, I found sexy. Her cohorts that evening, arriving together from various venues in Europe were not too exceptional, though I did not expect such diversity in their ages or possible stations in life. And except for the Russian or Ukrainian-looking security men who came with them, I felt pretty safe to communicate with any of her guests—if it ever came to that. And with a little luck and some social maneuvering with Ms Vespucci, I totally hoped that might happen too. For now my plan was to get a good night's sleep, read over Kimiko's intel again, and head out in the morning light to this famed nightclub called "Space."

        That next morning, finally being able to take advantage of the continental breakfast of coffee and pastries Eleni offered in the premises, I also cornered her for anything she might tell me about this club.  Like why it  would it be open at ten in the morning.

            "Yes. That's actually quite strange," Eleni said, pouring my coffee and cordially taking a seat across from me in the small breakfast area of the rooming house. "Space is a popular place . . . maybe the most popular in Chora as a club. And yeah it's an all night experience. But by ten AM most people would be back in their hotels crashed out for the day."

            "So that's a bit odd, isn't it?"

           Eleni nodded her head in agreement. "And you say someone will meet you there? At that hour?

        "Yeah," I confirmed.  "That's what she said . . . and she should know. She's a . . . local."

        With this revelation I saw Eleni's interest peak. The island was overrun with tourists each year, perhaps ten times the local population in the winter, but as I imagined  the residents pretty well knew each other. Except, of course, what Kleio told me about the villa dwellers. Apparently they hardly knew who their neighbors were.

        "Well, if it's a local it's probably someone who knows the owners of the place. But they pretty much close up by eight or nine when the sun is just up and the big show is over.

        "Big show?"

        "So you haven't heard of the "MykonosXperience?" It's famous for that club. The special attraction of Space. People come from all over the world to see that show."

        "Wow. So what is it exactly?"

        She laughed. Well I won't spoil it for you. But you should go there at least once in your life. It starts about three AM. Ends with the sunrise." She was then reluctantly silent.

        "Come on, Eleni, don't tease me like that. . ."

        She laughed again. "Seriously, we're not supposed to give any spoilers to tourists about these things . . .it's a pretty tight business community here. We all help each other out. And we all have to survive the winters when the island is dead."

        The word "dead" resonated in my ears.

            "So would Space even be open then this morning . . like she said?"

            "Definitely not. But there will be people inside working. Getting it ready for the next night."

            My perplexed look seemed to amuse her.

            "OK," she said finally. "Just for your information . . . it's a bit of a circus inside that club every night . . . but a pretty amazing one. There's this unforgettable atmosphere with the lights and sounds that have made the club famous. Kind of a cosmic theme."

            "I see."

            "A lot of celebrities go there to catch the party. They come back each summer faithfully to see it again. Some people even go every night."

            "Wow, OK."

            "But  . . . I really don't understand . . . who would. . ."

            I could tell Eleni was still curious about why I would be asked by someone to go there after hours. But as was keeping with her youthful manners and businesslike association with renters, she did not ask me more. There was, however, no doubt the situation had caught her interest. I realized then how sensitive and perceptive the locals must be, seeing so much of the same each night and day during the long summer. And, as if having some transparent powers, they could no doubt see things invisible to tourists which to them stood out as odd or inexplicable.

            I finished my coffee and managed to wolf down two more pastries in the process. I lastly asked her where I could find this now-closed club. She gave directions as best she could about a town which seemed to have no street names, and where every pathway eventually led back upon itself in a serpentine way, at least twice.

            Heading out at 9:30, I prepared to meet the new woman of my dreams—or at least one in an academic sense of that idiom. I had prided myself already in catching her attention the night before, and craftily creating the necessity that we meet. I was only too hopeful that morning our conversation would be equally intriguing—compelling her to reveal anything she would about her vampire self. For that was exactly why I had come to this incomparable place. Though I had to admit, I was already all the richer for my efforts.

            Approaching the entryway of the place in the stark daylight gave no impression of how it must look in the darkness. I could imagine its laser lights flashing and a powerful sound booming from within. I walked up to the enormous doors and knocked on them loudly. After a second attempt, someone pushed one open slowly.

            It was an incredibly large interior, looking to be more a theater than a club. The young man who greeted me seemed to be an immigrant, not a native Greek. Perhaps Egyptian or Pakistani. He seemed to know I was meeting someone inside and so just allowed me in and pointed to a bar across from the stage area. There, seated by herself at an enormous bar was Melina Vespucci, now dressed in an all white pants suit, her black hair combed back and tied. I noticed she was slightly made up, with lipstick and eyeliner, giving her a theatrical appearance in the appropriate setting.

            "For someone who doesn't like time, you are very punctual," she said whimsically. "Are you British or American?"

            "I like to say Californian," I answered back, smiling at her briefly and trying not to lose the collected manner I entered with.

            "I've heard people from California consider it to be their own country," she said knowledgeably.

            I took a bar stool next to her in the dim light.

            "Yes. Something like that," I said.

            "I've had many chances to go there, but just never accepted any of the offers."

            "Well, it's never too late to treat yourself to a new adventure."

            "So are you going to offer me another chance to go?," she asked in a brashly flirtatious and unexpected way.

            It was a proposition I could not even imagine, and too powerfully distracting to even consider.

            "No actually. That's not why I'm here."

            "Now you never told me your name, Californian. Shall I just call you that?"

            "No. Please call me Bryce. May I call you . . . Melina Vespucci?"

            "Yes. For now  . . .that would be fine. So . . . Bryce. Exactly why are you here? And how do you know my name and exactly what people once called me . . . so long ago?"

            "Let's just say, I have made it my business for the past several years to study . . . your condition."

            She laughed out loud. Sincerely amused by the euphemism.

            "My condition, you say?"

            "Yes. The fact that . . . unlike me . . . you can continue to live after death." 

            "And what has given you this strange notion?"

            "Simply that you were born in 1515."

            "Yes. And possibly that I died in 1543?"

            "Well, that certainly helps too. Yes."

            "So how do you find me, after so many years, Bryce from California?"

            "Quite attractive, I have to say. But equally as much as you are interesting to me."

            "So Bryce. . .now I must ask, then . . .are you one of us?"

            "No. I am not."

            "But you seem so . . . aware of conditional things."

              "I suppose I am. But I would love to know even more."

          She moved her face closer to mine and I could see that even without her make up her features were flawless to look upon.

            "Fair enough. But now . . . you must tell me, Bryce. Just how you came to know so much about me and my . . . condition."

        She smiled again at the sound of the word.

            I was feeling rather heady by now—almost dizzy looking into her eyes. It was as if I could be pulled into them and never escape. I felt it was also time for me to come clean with my knowledge in the hopes of bonding and learning more.

            "I found most things about you and your . . . friends from my research in books. And more specifically from the Internet. I actually could read what you and your associates have talked about these past months. What was said about you and your incredible life."

            She looked down at the bar for a moment, sadly. It was as if she had been finally caught after escaping the hands of judgement for a crime which had gone undetected for many, many years.

            "So what do you want to know of me now?"

            "I suppose how you exist. How it feels to live in a world caught between life and death. And what it is you will be doing on the island of Delos in several day's time, under a full moon?"

            "Why do you need to know these things, Bryce? Why has there always been men like you chasing us, prying into the curse we live by? You play a dangerous game with these forces. These physical laws which none of my brothers or sisters of the night can even understand ourselves."

        For the moment I was speechless.

        "And why should I share even the smallest detail of my long and torturous life with you? I have lived here on this island for hundreds of years. Peacefully. Must that now change?

            "No! I do not wish to change you . . . or what you have here, Melina. Nor even take away the solitude you found on this island long ago. I just need . . . for my own thirst of understanding, to look through that doorway which has been shut for thousands of years. I just want you to shine some light on what has never been fully understood or explained."

            She was looking at me again. Still coldly. Defiantly. It was a look that could break into a rage at any moment. I reached over and took her hand in mine. I wanted to disarm her growing wrath. This small contact seemed to have some soothing effect. There was a slight message of this in the subtle squeeze of her fingers

             "Just grant me this brief look into your life, Melina Vespucci. The long life you have sustained after your own tragic death so long ago. Tell me of it. Share those things you might be willing to share. During the brief time that I remain on your island. Your story must be nothing less than a miraculous and fascinating one. I did not come here to bring harm upon you. Only to understand more fully this curse you and your society must abide by."

            She looked deeply into my eyes again. There was a perceived shift in the power of her gaze.

            "You know. . .I am truly tired of my life. And yet can not escape it. I have lived to the best of my ability here to bring peace upon myself. And limit the harm I must inflict on others . . .just to go on in this eternity. But a curse is a curse. And in my case . . . it was never one which I brought upon myself."

        I was astounded that she began to speak so candidly with me. She paused for a long moment and then spoke again.

        "Perhaps if I share with you these things I have longed to tell, I will have greater serenity. I do not know yet if this is so, but I am willing to see if it relieves my grief . . . or sustains it. So what if i told you I am willing to proceed with what you are asking me to do."

         "I would be delighted. Truly!"

         As she told me this I  could only wonder if she was sincere--or in keeping with her clan and history as a revenant, luring me craftily to my own deadly demise.

            "So, yes, Bryce . . .  we will see if what you are suggesting brings me some greater solace here."

            She spoke these words in a cool and calm voice, no longer seemingly to erupt into explosive anger.  

         "At least for now we shall meet during these few nights before the full moon. For yes,  as you  say, I have much to tell you. But we should begin tonight. Not here, but later . . . at my home."

            I could feel my heart thumping at the idea of such an interview, both for its phenomenal value to research, and from the impending threat to my own life, which it also potentially offered.

            "Be here again outside the doors of the club at twelve o'clock tonight. Just when the first guests begin to arrive. I will have my personal driver meet you and bring you to my home near the sea. There I will begin my long story for you. I will tell you all you wish to know. And we shall see if it soothes my soul . . . or only further molests it.

             Once again I stood and nodded to this incomparable dame of Mykonos. The gesture signaled to her in no uncertain terms that we would indeed meet again—the next time in her own beautiful and solitary lair.

                                                                                                       *     *     *