Note: The only character I do not own in this story is The Undertaker

Chapter Two

In the thriving city of Lexington, Kentucky, the sun was starting to dip down in the sky as the late afternoon hours had begun to slip into the early evening. People were heading home from their jobs and getting themselves prepared for when they go to sleep from having worked during the day.

For those who worked at night, their day was just beginning.

On the east side of the city, at a small warehouse that had an apartment in the upper levels of it, the day had just begun for its resident that called the area his home.

Detective Mark Callaway of the Lexington Police Department had woke up recently, and slipped out of his room in a crimson button up shirt, denim jeans, and black loafers that he had decided to wear for the evening. He had started to walk down some stairs when he brought himself to a stop at the sight of some of his shutters being open on the ground floor and the last of the day's sun to be shining all over the living room area.

I'll take care of this before I burst into an inferno of flames.

He brought his left hand up to where a button was embedded into the wall and used his index finger to press down on it. His eyes watched as the shutters closed themselves shut, cutting off the dangerous rays of light that could have a devasting effect on him.

Mark wasn't like other men in his department with the police force he worked with. He happened to be a vampire that was not far off from turning seven-hundred-years-old. Through the centuries, he had picked up a few tricks and tips to keep others from finding out what he was and living under the radar to avoid being seen as 'different' to everyone else.

He made his way down the stairs once the danger had passed, and walked over to where his refrigerator was nestled. Opening the door, Mark retrieved a bottle that looked to be a wine bottle and took it over to the counter top by the sink where he had his wine glasses nestled on a small rack. He picked up one of them prior to setting it down and pouring the red contents of the bottle into the glass to a point.

It had the appearance of red wine…but it wasn't the kind of drink that it looked to be. Instead of the alcoholic beverage, the liquid happened to be the blood of a pig that he had picked up at a butcher's shop near his home.

Mark's diet to keep him from drinking human blood consisted of animal blood to quell his thirst for humans. He had come across the substitution several years ago, and found it to be a life saver for him, as well as something that would help him get by without having to experience a blood lust episode.

Leaving the bottle on the counter, he brought the glass up to his mouth, and took a sip from it, savoring the refreshing taste. His body moved over to where a table was in his kitchen area and sat himself down on one of the chairs presented. His focus shifted to where a brown folder was nestled that he had left there after his boss stopped by earlier to talk to him about a client that he wanted him to take care of and protect from The Devil.

The same psycho that had been tormenting people in his city in the past had made his way to a town not far away from there, and had recently killed a local in that town with someone having witnessed the act. He knew that The Devil was someone who would make sure to tie loose ends, and he would have to keep the person safe from them at all cost if they were going to bring him to justice and stop his reign of terror.

Since the house guest is on their way here, I better take a look and see who it is that I am going to be sharing my home with.

Mark flipped open the folder that was nestled on the surface, and found his body nearly stopping all its functions from the picture of a beautiful woman to be looking at him with an uncanniness that had him whispering out a single word.

"Katrin."

Katrin was a mortal woman he had met in the mid-fifteen hundreds when he was staying at the home of a friend to his creator in the countryside of Iceland. He had arrived there on the night of a grand party, and was introduced to her when they had accidentally bumped into one another. Their brief encounter led to a courtship together and him proposing to her. Everything seemed to be heading in the right direction for the two of them to be together, as well as for him to turn her into a vampire like himself.

However, one night changed the course of his happiness and plans for their future.

A group of villagers stormed into his home on his wedding night with Katrin, and attacked them both. He struggled to get free and get out of there with Katrin, but he was unable to save his bride. By the time he had gotten freed from the people holding him back, his wife lied dead from the villagers being merciless in their attack on her.

The memory of that night reminded him of the sadness losing his wife and the unbridled rage that had him murder the entire village for a group having taken the life of his wife from him. He had worked hard to overcome the hatred living within him that had the power to make him take the lives of countless people and learn to not give into those emotions so easily.

Looking at the photo of the woman that he was to protect from the psychopath he was after, Mark felt like he was being given another chance at happiness with someone who brought him back to life just by looking at their photo, and he was prepared to do all that he could in order to make sure that history did not repeat itself.

His gaze moved down to the name of the individual, and found it to be as mesmerizing as her picture.

"Kristen Andrews."

Mark whispered her name with a bit of a sensual tone to his voice. He hadn't met her yet, but there was no way that he could deny being aroused from her picture and the way her name rolled on the tip of his tongue. His focus shifted towards the door to his apartment when his hearing picked up on the sound of a car pulling up outside of the apartment building, and knew exactly as to who it was.

"She's here."