To Covet and To Love
An Abraham Lincoln, Vampire Hunter fanfiction
Sometimes you have to take what you want…
Enjoy.
If there were ever such a being as God, he was most certainly absent in the moment that Henry saw his most damning prey for the first time.
He had no right after all, even existing in her world, breathing the same air that graced her fragile lungs… taking her bittersweet human life. But he knew that he did exist and breathe and that he, Henry Fitzwilliam Sturges, would, eventually- but hopefully sooner than later- end her very being.
What a peach.
Henry was walking through the Upper Madison in Pennsylvania, a rich affluent neighborhood that boasted everyone from senators and careermen to entertainers such as singers and actors. It was a bright day, but it was not unpleasant, the normally scalding brightness of that temptress sun annealed by the lenses of his dark glasses. They helped to give him an air of mystery, which was something that played greatly in his favor.
While returning to his own, more modest manor- compared to the others that lined the street- he came upon the mansion at the end of the lane, seeing a number of stage coaches parked out front and men milling in and out of the lavish house. Ever seeking to slake his curiosity, he paused and watched the humans mill around like ants, seeing a final, superb white coach pull up in front of the house.
And then she was there- and she was simply exquisite.
The footman opened the door and lent his hand to a petite girl of maybe ten-and-six, if that, her cultured looks femininely demure even as her large, brown- green eyes held a fire that went unrivaled by any other beings'. Her dark golden-and-brown hair was piled upon the top of her head in an intricate design, her heavy dress the color of new wheat, fluttering around her ankles in the wind as such. She was talking to another woman that she did not favor at all, but treated warmly, reaching up on the tips of her toes to kiss her cheek.
It was at that moment she turned towards his direction, looking down the street, looking right at Henry and the pull was simply… irresistible. Who was he to know that that one moment was to change his entire world and state of being?
He found himself striding towards the house before he could stop the demon within him, seeing an older gentleman coming to meet him- stepping between him and the object of his dark desires. Henry blinked and regained almost immediate control of himself, exhaling before putting on a smile for the man of the house. "Good day sir- welcome to Madison. I am Henry Sturges," he said coolly, extending his hand. The other gentleman shook with a vigor that spoke on poor aging, the skin around his eyes creasing deeply as he smiled, "Well, it is nice to make your acquaintance Mister Sturges; my name is Lucien Sforza."
"Ah, Sforza- a great, cultured Italian name. That bloodline spoke of bountiful wealth and beautiful woman," Henry said smartly in the brusque tone he used often with the people of Madison, his eyes sliding past Lucien to the splendid girl who was currently searching his face. Most of her species could never keep a level gaze with him, even when he shielded his eyes behind his thickened glasses and here, it was as if she was looking for something deep within him and not finding herself satisfied. "I must say, I admire your house, sir and the two lovely women accompanying you."
"Yes, this is the lady of my house Adelaide Buchanan Sforza," he said proudly, the older woman coming forward and curtsying appropriately, extending her hand. Henry bowed in kind fashion and placed a kiss to her flesh before coming back up, waiting rather impatiently to be introduced to the young one- her blood was calling out to him, singing its virtues and he was begging to answer. "And this is my own pride and joy, my daughter Laurelie." The girl stepped forward confidently and gave him her hand, half-curtsying, "It is a pleasure to meet you Mister Sturges." He eagerly grasped her dainty fingers, warm and small within his own, his burning eyes upon her as he pressed his lips to the back of her hand. The scent radiating from her every pore was sweet and pure, assaulting Henry's senses in a way that made him want to ravage her in broad daylight. "You must forgive me Miss Sforza, but I am afraid that the pleasure is mine to have. And please, call me Henry."
Lucien was quick to see Henry's charm and how he brandished it at his daughter- knowing that she was in great danger of such a man- Laurelie stepping back to her mother's side and folding her lovely hands before her. His aged eyes narrowed, his wizened gut sensing the danger that was inherent to Henry himself but not knowing what to make of it. Adelaide, however, was not put off by the mysterious young man standing before her, smiling at him warmly. "Well Mister Sturges, I believe that it will take some days more to prepare our house for guests, but I- and my family as well- would like it very much if you would join us for our first dinner party here. Can I expect to set a place at my table for you?"
"Only if it is close enough to partake in the pleasure of my lady's company."
He could see that the older woman was intensely flattered, but he knew that Laurelie knew who exactly he was talking to. She smiled mysteriously then, more self-assured than any woman her age should have been, something that Henry was instantly inquisitive about. He saw a certain wisdom in her eyes that he hadn't seen in men twice her age- even in their final moments- and a fierce determination, but for what he didn't have the faintest idea.
Henry bid the family farewell and returned to his home to wait until the moment when he would come across the mysterious Laurelie again. He had already made up his mind to have her, to taste the sweetness of her flesh and of her blood before anyone else- rather, any other man could sully its flavor.
But until then, all he had to do was wait…
However, the young lady Sforza did not make him wait long.
He found himself in the market some days later, trying to feed in an attempt to get the scent of the pure blood from his mind, trying to quench the thirst in a way that was like eating sand in an absence of water. But then, just as he had chosen- and he was a menacing, brutish-looking man in his early forties with dark hair and tiny eyes and a pair of hands that could not restrain themselves from the womenfolk- the wind changed and he turned, seeing Laurelie Sforza holding a peach as she talked to a vendor pleasantly. Henry smiled, his canines nowhere close to human proportions, because the irony itself was unmistakable.
"Miss Sforza."
Laurelie turned as she heard the voice that was honey and fire itself, a tender smile finding its place upon her lips as she faced her newly found admirer. She wore a long dress of cream today, her collarbones bared and the smooth column of her neck on full display. As well, her hair was in a loose ponytail, a few strands blowing in the light spring breeze. "Well, well Mister Sturges, we meet again. And I find it most unfortunate that we should do so without me being chaperoned," she said flippantly, the older man raising an eyebrow at her choice of words.
"Unfortunate," Henry questioned keenly, following after curiously her as she continued on through the market. "May a man inquire as to why that is so?"
"It is simple, of course: my father thinks you… forward with me Mister Sturges."
He smiled impishly then even as he inclined his head, attempting to be respectful- at the very same time disrespectful thoughts of the young woman were taking root in his mind. "Then I must apologize- a lady such as yourself only deserves veneration. I will have a talk with your father," Henry said lightly, trying not to stare at the gentle curved place where her elegant neck and shoulder came together; it would be the perfect place to bite… or to kiss. The tempting Laurelie laughed tenderly then, snapping Henry out of his monstrous thoughts, "Oh please Mister Sturges; you and I both know that the term 'lady' is an ill-fitting shoe for a foot as delicate as my own."
Women did not simply say such things and Henry wanted to know what she meant, reaching out to touch her shoulder. Laurelie turned to meet his eyes, raising an arched eyebrow and stepping out of his reach- touching was taboo between strangers with such unfamiliarity between them as they had. He realized then that he had not been careful enough with her with her modesty and her comfort- his flesh was cooler than hers would ever be and he had exposed her to that truth. "And yet, however ill-fitting that shoe, I still wear it Henry." She was a tenacious creature then, he thought, the very essence of loveliness- her unblemished skin had a dark, tanned peaches and cream hue, her eyes were a deep green-brown set into a heart-shaped face with a perfect little nose and full strawberry lips.
"You must forgive me for being forward with you Laurelie- again," Henry said, trying to keep himself within her graces. Laurelie seemed to ponder his request for a moment before turning away, a hidden smiling playing upon her lips, "No."
She got a few steps away from him before he went to the nearest flower vendor and pulled out four three-cent pieces, taking four bouquets without really looking at them and going after her. "Laurelie, please. Take these flowers for my apology," he said, extending one bouquet to her. "These to brighten your day. These for a token of my growing affection. And these as my intention to call upon you, with or without your father's consent- which I will ask for when I join your family for dinner, but only if it pleases you."
"It pleases me," Laurelie said without a second thought, swallowing at the thought of a man of Henry's stature wishing to call upon her. "Greatly."
"Then I shall ask upon your word, Miss Sforza; in the meantime, may I accompany you home?"
The diminutive woman took the intensely strong and muscular arm extended to her, Henry taking her burdens and smiling in kind. It was strange, being with her and while wanting to lunge for her throat, knowing that he wanted her presence more so. He grinned at her widely when he focused on the fact that he would keep her alive for the moment, a smile that rivaled a priceless masterpiece of a painting- a smile that made Laurelie's heart flutter. And unbeknownst to her, Henry himself heard it, moving closer to her tempting body; he reveled in the effect he had on her, knowing that she was becoming just as drawn to him as he was to her.
Henry set the pace for their slow, luxurious stroll, taking in the eyes of the townspeople who walked past. He knew their thoughts: who is she? Why are they close? Has the mysterious Mister Sturges finally picked a bride?
A bride…
It was a tempting thought, one Henry had had many a time with woman who had stood out in his two and a half centuries of existence- but in the end, they had either slipped away due to time or… died at Henry's hands themselves. Such a lovely picture was painted in his mind, Laurelie dressed in white, walking towards him with a smile on her face- but then the picture morphed, Laurelie turning into a broken, bloodied woman in a dress of yellow who was calling out, calling out for mercy, for Jesus, for Henry himself.
"Are you alright Henry," her quiet voice asked, Laurelie wishing that she could see his eyes.
Henry only gave her a tentative half smile, the silence in between them demanding a new flow of conversation. She took this as a cue to question him, reaching up to tuck a few loose strands behind her ear, "So Mister Sturges, I find myself curious…"
"About?"
"You."
Henry nodded, looking down at her through his tinted glasses, "Ah, I would expect it so. I was born in Chicago, some five-and-twenty years ago. My parents died when I was young and I found myself… curious of the world; I have journeyed great distances in my time, young Laurelie. And now I am living on my father's wealth while I decide what I would like to be when I grow up."
"Are you not grown yet," Laurelie asked almost in disbelief, smiling more to herself than anything. "My dear, you would be surprised how many men as old as me are still children in many ways…"
They both smiled at each other warmly before Laurelie announced their arrival at her home with a sigh, turning to Henry. "Well sir, I thank you for walking me home. You are a true gentleman and I take… intense pleasure in your company," she said as her voice caressed the words unintentionally, taking her days' purchases from him and shyly looking at him. Henry gave her a coy smile and took her hand in his, starting to press a kiss there before thinking of a more appropriate location to place it. Laurelie gasped quietly and blushed a deep crimson as Henry pressed his lips to her cheek, his lips then moving to brush against her earlobe, "Again dear, the pleasure is mine." His voice sent shivers up her spine in the greatest way: Henry was more alluring than anything or anyone she had ever encountered and Laurelie was finding herself enraptured by his very presence.
"I will see you again, soon. But for now, this is goodbye Miss Sforza," Henry said, stepping away from her and smiling.
He turned away before Laurelie cleared her throat, Henry looking back over his shoulder at her.
"Mister Sturges," she said, pausing as if she was unsure of her next words. "Why do I feel as if you are… going to be increasingly detrimental to my virtue?"
"Do not fear Laurelie; I assure you, your virtue is in very good hands."
