Hello lovely readers. For those of you who are familiar with this story, I pulled this out sometime last year because I wasn't completely happy of how I wrote it but now I am re-posting the story. I've made some changes and each chapter is longer. And this time around I am actually pretty much done with the entire story, meaning the updates will be faster.
I really hope you guys enjoy this. This story is actually very important to me since this story was my very first multi-chapter and a lot of research went into this. So please leave your comment and reviews.
Chapter 1
New York always provided a fine selection for dining, she thought as she sat on the railing along the edge of the Angel of the Waters Fountain at Bethesda Terrace in Central Park. She gazed at the choices available in various spots around the square. French, German, Italian and Chinese of course.
Her stomach rumbled with hunger. It had been a day since she had eaten. Placing a hand over her belly, she rose and sashayed toward her first pick, but as she neared the Frenchman, she realized he was beyond loaded. The stench of cheap wine clung to his shirt and oozed from his pores.
Shaking her head, she thought of the oft repeated adage all those television chefs used: If it's not good enough to drink, it's not good enough for cooking. Or in her case, for eating. That cheap stuff just left a bad aftertaste in her mouth along with a wickedly nasty buzz.
She preferred something cleaner on her palate tonight. After all, you are what you eat.
She saw a middle aged German, Germans were always a trifle heavy in her belly but she can't afford to be too choosy. She made eye contact with him for a moment and his blue eyes twinkled with interest. That much was clear. She smiled back, thinking that maybe he might be worth a nibble after all.
Mr. German started walking, seemingly intent on making a move in her direction, but suddenly a tall, blonde and muscled woman joined him. Seeing that his attention was on her, his companion began a harangue loud enough to make heads turn. The man stopped walking, looking like a dog with its tail tucked between his legs.
No spirit. That was so not good, she thought and moved onward, still in search of something to satisfy her hunger. If only she can just walk right in to a blood bank and ask for a bag filled with fresh blood. She's not greedy, a bag a day is all she needs.
Blood won't give her true pleasure after nearly two thousand years of undead life.
She needed a man who could not only take a lickin', but gave as good as he got. And not just when he was in a fight. What she wants is a partner. It had been a good long while since she'd been in a company of a man, one of the downside of having lived so long. Of being a vampire elder.
Even her own kind avoided her at times, aware that with her age came not just vast power but also vast hunger. For blood. For control over lesser vamps. For sex. Sex. Not a topic she's particularly fond of. She wants more than a physical release. She didn't want to admit that, in her case, she still hungered for love. For real passion and desire.
Things she hadn't felt since she'd been turned into a vampire.
Some of the other elders said she was foolish to yearn for such things. That she should let go of the last little bit of humanity within her that prompted such desires. Then, and only then, could she truly relish the immense vampire power that her age provided.
Stubbornly, though, she refused to relinquish that lingering trace of humanity. For want of something more than an eternal existence filled with only blood and lust.
She knows what others think of her. She used to care but not anymore-she's ancient. She's seen and felt too much over the course of years. She's not a saint, far from it. But a millennia ago she met a newly turned vampire and he's the one who showed her what she could be, what she shouldn't be. She's pretty much had broken every commandment there is but she'd promised a long-long time ago that no way is she giving herself to anyone just to satisfy a need.
A fine looking Chinese caught her eye as he laughed at the antics of his rowdy friends in front of one bar. She circled Mr. Chinese, making eye contact and clearly letting the young man know that this might just be his lucky night.
It worked without her using even a bit of her vampire power. A flirtatious smile and her feminine wiles had been enough.
He approached, with a cocky swagger, asked, "Do you want to have a good time?"
"Of course," she said with a sexy wink, and inclined her head in the direction of a nearby alley.
The young man smiled broadly and after a quick glance back at his friends, who hooted and carried on at his "score", he took hold of her hand and followed her.
She led him farther back into the narrow alley, although not so far that he would think anything was amiss. Just far enough that he would believe a strong shout could still be heard out. Not that she would give him the opportunity to call out.
Toward the middle of the alley, the night closed in around them, with only the dimmest light from the full moon above. Clothed in darkness, the young man surprised her by becoming the aggressor, grabbing her forcefully and pinning her to the jagged brick wall.
"Like it rough, do you?" she said, but he didn't answer.
She considered the emotions flitting across his face. Passion rose, dilating his eyes into shards of pure black. Desire awakened the demon that hungered for so much. She laid her face against his. Bent her head and kissed the crook of his neck. His skin was damp. Salty. His blood surged, singing through his veins as his pulse quickened.
Sweet, sweet blood. Pulsing beneath her lips.
In a heartbeat, she finally loosed her restraints on the beast. Her fangs burst forth and pierced the fragile skin of his neck.
He called out then in a strangled cry laced with pain, but also with the acknowledgement of passion like no other he had ever experienced-the passion borne from a vampire's kiss.
Blood spilled onto her lips from her fangs as she drank, experiencing the surge of strength and lust that came from feeding. His sweet, young blood brought the rush of life to her undead body.
He tasted like the ocean and sun. Salty. So tasty that she could have kept on going until she drained him dry, only he had done well by her tonight, satisfying one hunger while leaving another unfulfilled.
The young man's knees weakened from the loss of blood, and she hopped off him. With her greater vampire strength, she gently eased him down to the uneven pavement.
He was rather handsome, she thought, faxing down at him as he stared up at her, disoriented. The bite mark at his neck was already healing and come morning, he would remember nothing. Feel no worse off than if he had a bad hangover.
And she would feel-
Still alone, she thought, hurrying from the alley as if by doing so, she could escape the bleakness of her existence.
Once out in the open, she realized that it was time to move on. She would not find satisfaction here.
As she strolled through the square, it occurred to her Texas would be good this time of year. Lots of fine dining there and the wannabes at the Blood Bank were always good for a laugh.
Imagine, wanting to be human again, she thought. What good was that? She asked herself, ignoring the little voice in her head which reminded her that with humanity came...
Love.
…..
Crimson droplets welled up from the needle pricking sun-darkened skin. Puzzled by his bloodlust, Lucas Friar focused on creating the tattoo. An odd tingling warned him something powerful had stirred his sleeping half.
I am Wolf,he silently chanted as he wiped Maya's arm with a clean white cloth.
Sweat dripped down his temples as the tattoo gun whirred. He adjusted the gooseneck lamp and ignored his rising hunger. Lucas hadn't taken blood in a full century. Dining on his adopted sister was not a good way to start.
"Ow, that hurts," Maya Hunter pretended to whine.
"Shut up and take it like a man," asserted Zay Babineaux.
"I'm a wolf, not a man," Maya shot back.
"Move any more, and you'll be a wolf with a crooked heart," Lucas warned. "I told you to ease off the beer. Now you're bleeding on me." He hissed back at Maya.
Lucas' Texas ink shop was quiet this night. He did free tats for his family. Art came alive beneath his skilled fingers as he inked Maya's strong right bicep. He thought about his own tattoo, a symbol of his shattered past, and Missy Beaufort.
Daughter of his former clan's leader, Missy was a pure blood vampire. Lucas had taken her blood and virginity a full century ago. Marcus, Missy's father, had banished him afterward because Lucas was a Halfling, a half-vampire, half-werewolf. Lower class in the vampire hierarchy.
He'd fled to Texas and met the Hunter werewolves of Shawn's pack. They treated him as a brother. He had respect and acceptance.
"Finished." Lucas stripped off his gloves and tossed them. He disassembled the tattoo gun, cleaned the needle bar and tube and then placed them in the autoclave to sterilize them.
As Maya and Zay admired the art, Lucas' thoughts drifted. Wishes were stupid, and he was a fool. Still...
I wish Missy were back in my arms for just one night.
As the thought faded, a faint sound sent both his werewolf and vampire senses on full alert.
"Intruder. Back room," murmured Maya, her nostrils flaring.
Zay's dark eyes flashed amber, signalling his wolf's emergence. "Not Morph, not human."
Morphs, former werewolves who turned evil by murdering a relative, could shape-shift into any animal. They killed ruthlessly and absorbed the terrified victim's dying energy.
Lucas motioned for them to remain. Silent as his wolf, swift as his vampire, he crept to the shop's back. He picked out a shadow rippling across the floor. His six foot-four-inch body moved in a silent tsunami of stealth.
As the shadow moved, Lucas pounced.
Air whooshed from his prey as he straddled the trespasser. Lucas felt luscious curves and his body stirred in instant response. Every sense flared as he inhaled female musk and gardenias. His vampire half responded as fangs erupted in his mouth and his phallus hardened.
It can't be her,he thought in startled realization. My wishes never come true.