A Devil's Angel

Imagine the scene. A secret club; solely dedicated to the protection and pleasure of vampire kind. In the centre of a circle on the dance floor, two bombshells are dancing. But they're not of vampire kind… they were created at the same time as vampires, not for food, but for loving… They are a devil's angels.

Prologue

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Jerry's eyes perused the ballroom floor, searching as ever for those perfect blue eyes that would somehow always meet his. As he looked, he felt gentle fingers brush against his hair and trail down his neck to rest lightly on his shoulder. Jerry smiled to himself as he turned and looked down into those brilliant blue eyes that had been missing from the dance floor.

Jerry caught her hand in his and brought it to his lips. "I thought you would not come." His smile said otherwise.

"Come love, why would I not attend this glorious night? It is my party after all." She replied, and then looked about herself to see if anyone was close enough to hear before she continued in a whisper. "You are here, that is all I need know."

"Jerreth!" A loud exclamation broke through their private reverie. "You cannot keep Miss Clainsworth to yourself!" the couple turned to see Jerry's old rival for Miss Clainsworth's hand. "A Jewel like her should be shared, not coveted!"

"Ah, Cromwell, still sore are we?" Jerry's playful remark quite visibly hit home as her ex-suitor's smile turned into a hateful glare. "Now, now, Cromwell, you mustn't lose your temper…it isn't polite."

"And what of your temper, Dandridge?" Cromwell nearly spat, then composed his features a little…a very little. "There are still questions as to if you are good enough for her, dear Jerreth." Cromwell's trademark malicious smile fixed itself in place. "Women are a slave to their passions… What passions do you give her that I cannot?"

"It is difficult to be passionate about a scarecrow," Miss Clainsworth's polite smile crept across her face. "Especially since they do not feel themselves."

Cromwell's jaw dropped as Jerry took her arm in his and lead her away, smiling at the triumphant gleam in her eyes.

As they made their way out onto the uppermost balcony, Jerry spoke up. "You know, you shouldn't tease him so…"

"Like you do any different," She winked up at him.

"Now you see why I must keep you away from all other vampire kind until you are turned? They will not believe you have found your one."

"Cromwell? A vampire?" she blinked up at him in amazement for a moment before composing her features and looking away. "Actually…that fits…is only seen at night…belongs in a museum."

"He's the same age as me, love." Jerry feigned hurt at her remark.

"Oh, please, love, forgive me! I didn't know what I was saying!" she mock-begged for his forgiveness.

Jerry chuckled, "You are forgiven, love." He whispered as he drew her close with one arm and placed her hand on his shoulder with the other.

She gasped softly at his boldness, her cheeks flushing slightly at his sudden closeness. As stars twinkled high above the embracing couple, the music from the ballroom filtered out onto the balcony with them, they began to dance, Jerry drawing her closer with each step they took.

Through the silence, a shot rang out and the dancing couple froze. Jerry touched his hand to his chest and then brought it to his eyes. Blood.

"Jerreth…"

He looked into the eyes of his love just in time to see the lights fade in them and catch her limp body as she fell… dead.

"Somebody! Help! He's killed the Clainsworth girl! He's killed his fiancé'!" the shooter, Cromwell, yelled at the top of his lungs as people began running outside after hearing the gunshot. "Vampire!" Jerry looked from the newcomers to Cromwell, grief-stricken, before jumping over the edge of the balcony and disappearing into the night. He lingered just close enough for Cromwell to see and heard his whispered final words, "If I can't have her, no one can."

As Jerry backed away into the darkness once more he muttered to himself, "I'll be seeing you again."

Jerry watched from the shadows as his love was laid to rest the following Saturday, a single long-stemmed rose in his hand. He had to wait until sundown to approach her grave and place his rose on her headstone, but wait he did. And, as the moon rose behind him, he spoke to her.

"I promise I'll always find you. After all, a Devil's Angel never leaves for long…"