Beta Love: MissVoltriKingsfan
True Mate Saga Book One: Demetri
Chapter One
He really was a lovely man
"What the fuck does Della stand for, anyways? Isn't that like an old lady's name?"
A tangled, matted, rat's nest of long, straight, orange-red mane swayed sideways at its wearers instantaneous movement. In slow motion the young woman flicked her half smoked cigarette to the pavement, squashing its lit cherry underneath her scuffed up vans. She glared at the boy who had spoken, eyeliner half smudged down into the bags underneath her eyes and mascara flaked everywhere, giving a rather devil may care look to her ocean blue orbs.
It had been a rough night, but dear Christ was it a good one.
"Listen, J… um, Jeremy was it?" She began, her voice like nails on a chalk board after a long night of tequila and belting music at the top of her lungs in a foolhardy attempt to be louder than the band on stage. Her head was pounding, causing her to become irritable easily. When the boy confirmed his name with a brief nod she continued, "Last night was fun and all, but I really have to be getting home now."
He flashed her a toothy grin, his brown eyes lighting up his face like he had accomplished something brilliant. Della fought the urge to either punch him or laugh in his perfectly sculpted baby face. She couldn't actually remember much of last night passed midnight, when the drinks started getting to be less fruity as the alcohol content soared, urged by the impending last call. Whatever it was that this boy thought he'd accomplished in order to wear that confident smile on his round face, he hadn't.
But hey, a kid can dream.
"Alright, well, let me write down my number so we can meet up next weekend. Maybe we could go up to the Machine Shop in Flint and see whatever they've got going on sometime." He winked. Della wanted to vomit.
"Yeah, maybe. I haven't been there in a few months." It was a lie; she'd been there just three weeks ago with a friend she'd met on the beach at Lake Erie several months prior, during the summer.
She never spoke to the girl again after that concert.
His left hand dug into his pocket and his smile dropped, "Damn, I left my cell inside. Just a sec, I'll write my number down and bring it back out."
The second the boy was in the door Della was gone.
Her life had been this way since as long as she could remember. Leaving baby-faced Jeremy behind to scratch his head and wonder where he'd gone wrong was one of the nicer things she had done in the past twenty-one years of her life. She couldn't justify it; she just didn't make long term commitments, and to her long term meant anything over a couple months. Della hadn't even had a friend for longer than six months in her life.
It wasn't that she was a loner, she was easily probably one of the most extroverted people in existence. She was just, flighty. What's the point in garnishing friendships when you're never in a place for more than a few months? That's not to say that she hadn't tried in her younger years to maintain a companionship of sorts, but before cell phones, it had been difficult, and now she just couldn't be bothered with maintaining friendships. Friends came and went, they flew in like a seagull after some greasy fries and they were gone again by the time the tides rolled out.
All that mattered in this world was family, and she'd lost her family five years ago. Sure, she currently lived with her Gramps in his beat up house just outside of the Detroit City limits, one of the neighborhoods that had yet to completely succumb to the dealers and crackheads. But out of her fragmented family, her Gramps was the only one that even remotely mattered to her anymore. The rest of them were stick in the mud types, slowly sinking and covered in shit, not to mention anal retentive. One was even an in and out of jail drug abuser type. It was a wonder the people weren't on anti-depressants, because being around them surely made Della hanker for a mood stabilizer of some kind.
No, they didn't matter. Her mom, she mattered. Evelyn Payne, died of a kidney infection that her dilapidated immune system couldn't power through. Lupus was a bitch of a disease, and it had stolen Della's mom at a mere thirty-two years old. Della was by her side every step of the way. From her mother's diagnosis in Memphis, to her first real bout of it in Vegas, and all the way until the end when things had gotten so bad that Evelyn decided it would be best to go back home, to Detroit, and stay with her father for her end game.
It was a decision that landed Della where she was now. Stuck in the proverbial black hole that is Detroit, Michigan. Sure, it was rich with a culture and history of its own and she loved it. She was born here after all, before her Mom had bought the travel trailer they'd voyaged the country together. In her ten years on the road with her mother she was able to witness many parts of America that most people her Gramps' age hadn't. She'd been to the mall of America, seen Mt. Rushmore, held her mom's hair back in Vegas while she puked, been to the Grand Canyon, and so much more.
They hadn't stayed anywhere for more than six months, just enough time for Evelyn, Lyn as she liked to be called, to put back enough money so they could travel somewhere else. They stopped whenever they ran out of gas money until they could get some. At times they'd been so broke that every meal they'd acquired had been through a soup kitchen or otherwise homeless shelter. But if a volunteer approached them to offer sympathy it would be brushed off and sorely misplaced. Instead, the concerned volunteer would be subject to stories that would have them almost rolling on the floor with laughter. Lyn and Della were happy, too content with their lives for any sort of pity to be afforded to them.
From four until fourteen that was the life Della knew. When they'd come to Michigan, Della had been forced into a public school. After having to be home-schooled her whole life, she almost didn't realize how you were supposed to act in a classroom setting. It was like a scene out of Mean Girls, when Cady gets up to go to the bathroom without asking and gets told to sit down, practically having to cross your legs to keep from pissing yourself- yeah that had been Della for the first couple of months. It was as if every move she made was scrutinized and wrong. She became bored quickly with the things they taught in class, things that she'd already learned in her years of homeschooling. When her teachers realized she was beyond their subject, the faculty tried to push for her to join AP classes, and her mother thought it was a good idea.
Della did alright in AP, to be honest. She'd exited high school with a 2.7 GPA and the only reason she didn't get a higher score was because she just honestly didn't care. Her mom was dying and Della was busy trying to take care of her and spend every last moment she had by her side. She lost her Mom at sixteen. Right in the middle of her sophomore year. If she could have dropped out she might have, but her Gramps wouldn't have allowed it.
She could remember like it was yesterday, 'If you're going to be living with me you will have a job, and an education!' It was the firmest her Gramps had ever been towards her and she commended him for putting his foot down.
And so that lead to today, feeling trapped in Detroit, being a waitress five nights a week at a local diner, and taking a couple classes at a time at the nearest community college in order to gain some kind of degree. College was at her Gramps' insistence. If he hadn't sold the travel trailer before she'd gotten her license then Della would've been gone at eighteen, back to a familiar lifestyle, one that she missed deeply.
Della sighed from her position behind the wheel of her beat up Oldsmobile when her phone started blasting the theme music to American Horror Story. She picked it up and answered the call, not bothering to see who it was, because there was a one percent chance that it wasn't her Gramps.
"Hello?"
"Delphia, good morning. Are you coming home?" His rough and tough old man voice came loudly through the speaker. With age came hearing loss, and because he could barely hear you he thought you must have a difficult time hearing him, and so his need to shout your ear off intensified with every syllable that pushed through the receiver. It was quite humorous.
He really was a lovely man.
"Yeah I'm on my way now. Had a rough night at the diner and ended up having to stay a little while longer than usual," while it was true that Della worked graveyard at the Diner, she did not work the weekends. Her Gramps didn't know this, and he would never catch on because the man went to bed at 9 pm sharp.
"That's alright, Hun, I was calling to ask if you could run through the pharmacy and pick up my medications?"
Della internally groaned, "I'll do that, sure. Be home in a bit."
"Thanks sweet pea."
As they hung up Della quickly pulled a brush from her overly large tote bag she kept in her backseat for occasions like these. As she drove she raked the bristles through her matted hair and vowed to buy a leave in conditioner that might help with the tangles next time this happens. When she made it to the pharmacy parking lot she took a makeup remover wipe from the back seat bag and washed all that flaked and running mascara and eyeliner from her face. When she was satisfied she quickly threw her ridiculous mane up into a pony tail and left her car.
Usually Della wouldn't care about her appearance but one of her Gramps' best friends was the lead Pharmacist at this particular establishment. If she showed up there looking like a hot mess that had far too much fun the night before, well, it wouldn't be long until her Gramps heard about it and Della didn't want to go there. Thankfully she never dressed up when she went out for the night, and since it was winter no one would question her attire, because winter coats were the best.
Honestly, her Gramps and his friends gossiped almost as bad as the ladies on the church choir.
The bell rang as she opened the wide grocery doors, signaling a customer's entrance to the store. She quickly made her way to the back, smiling at everyone she passed. She'd always done so. It was rare that a scowl graced her features, the only reason she'd glared at the baby-faced Jeremy that morning was for asking about her name. That was a massive no-go for Della.
"Ah, Delphia! Your presence is a much-needed sunshine on this dreary winter morning," The pharmacist, Herman Read, grinned a wide lopsided smile as he saw her.
Della smiled broadly in return, swallowing her laugh at his words as she answered, "Herman, darling, I must apologize! I'm afraid this isn't a social call!"
Mr. Read placed his liver spotted hand on his heart, "My dear Delphia how you wound me terribly, perhaps another time! What might I do for you today, Miss Payne?" He winked.
They'd mock flirted like a late nineteenth century/early twentieth century courtship for years, Delphia because she got a kick out of the old man and Herman because he loved the girls' quick wit. The assistants at the pharmacy thought to two were incredible and that the banter was almost inappropriate, but they couldn't help smiling. It had become a joke between Della and Herman's wife, Sarah, that Della was trying to catch herself a rich man. The words were never spiteful, Sarah knew it was all in play.
If there was ever a couple still in love after fifty years, it was Herman and Sarah.
"Alas, darling Herman, it is my Grandfather!" Della's face turned solemn as she relayed the devastating news, "He's nearly run out of medication, you see, and if it is not replaced soon I worry for his decrepit joints as arthritis sets in!"
Herman's gasp was audible, "Delphia! This will simply not do!"
"That is not even the whole of it, Herman, he's also nearly run the course of his blood pressure and heart medications!" Della brushed the back of her hand against her forehead, "Please, darling Herman, if there's anything you can do for my Grandfather, I beseech you to hurry!"
"My dear, you do not have to ask for I have procured your Grandfather's medicine in the form of capsules! Please, take care to remind him that he is to take all medicines once with every meal to relieve him of the pain that his age demands he feel! I could not stand to see you suffer more."
Della's eyes grew wide and her smile radiant, "Oh- darling Herman, whatever would we do without you?" Her arms flared out in front of her and she drew him into a hug over the counter. When she released him she slipped her debit card through the machine, as the total was already flashing.
"Do not fret, Delphia, for I will always be here to procure medicinal assistance!" He stated, mock bowing and dipping his head so low that his comb over nearly brushed the counter.
"Good day- sweet Herman! I hope to speak to you soon!" Della waved, the grin never leaving her face.
Herman's laughter could be heard until she exited the front door of the store. Once back in her car, pill bag in hand, Delphia was off once more. This time she wasn't far from home. It only took a few minutes and she was pulling in the short driveway and shutting off her car.
Her Gramps' house wasn't all that impressive. It was a brick two story with a nice little porch that had four brick columns holding up the roof. The back there was a quarter acre of property and a fire pit that was dug when Gramps' wife was still alive and a derelict swing set that hadn't been used since Della's mom had been a child. The back garage remained locked securely, hiding a 1969 Ford Shelby, GT500 Mustang in a mint condition with only twenty thousand original miles on it. It was her Gramps' pride and joy, even if it had only been driven a handful of times in the past fifty years. Her grandfather was a Ford retiree, and with a deep sense of loyalty and pride he'd never purchased anything other.
Della unlocked the side door and stepped inside, quick to lock the door behind her and kick her shoes in the general direction of the shoe mat near the dryer. Instantly she was assaulted with the fresh, clean scent of home and something that was very close to the smell of apple pie. She smiled slightly and walked down the hall that was lined with hundreds of pictures, a bitch and a half to dust on cleaning day but the memories each picture held were priceless. Not a single picture was a simple portrait, they were all Kodak moments.
She picked up that trait from the grandmother she'd never met, apparently.
As Della made her way towards the kitchen she could hear her Gramps prattling about. "If that's apple pie I smell you're going to be in trouble with your doctor, young man!" she called just as she turned the corner into the small, cramped kitchen.
Louis Payne had aged rather well. In his seventies now, he still had the look of a fifty-year-old man, although his white hair protests the notion. His wrinkled face wasn't as wrinkled as one would expect, but for the laugh lines that had formed after years of mischief and fun. His brown eyes always gave off an amused hint to his demeanor, which was why Della could hardly ever take him seriously despite the fact that he had tried to be firm with her several times over the years.
"It's sugar-free." Was all he said, giving his granddaughter a wink and a smile as he opened the medicine bag she placed on the counter.
"I bet my ass it's not," She responded indignantly, but smiled back nonetheless.
He laughed as he was putting the pills away, "Don't tell your aunt."
Della scoffed, "I'm not suicidal."
It was a known fact Louis' eldest daughter was a controlling, drug addicted, psychopath. Whenever she wasn't the one in charge of the show she got angry, and when she got angry there was a fair chance that you would be swept up in a whirlwind of flying objects and harsh words. No one was safe, even the little only lady in the grocery store who accidentally bumped carts with aunt Mary would fall prey to her spiteful behavior.
Although she wasn't diagnosed bipolar, everyone knew she was. She'd been one of the main reasons Lyn had taken Della and left town for ten long years. Mary had almost beaten her own sister into an early grave herself at eighteen during a flare of anger. All over who Della's father was, something that Lyn had taken with her to the grave. Not that it mattered to Della, she didn't particularly care, she had lived a full life without a father and if he one day got in contact with her she probably wouldn't spare him a second of thought. Aunt Mary was someone that even Della didn't cross purposefully. It wasn't that Della was afraid of a fight- she simply didn't want to cause more problems for her Gramps, because he was the one who always bailed Mary out of jail.
"Good thing, too. Do you want some brunch?" He questioned, pulling some pans out from their place in the cupboards, "I wasn't up for anything this morning but I think waffles are in order."
Della smiled and got up to retrieve the package of sausages from the fridge. "Alright, old man, waffles and sausages then I'm upstairs finishing my homework before bed."
They laughed and joked while they made breakfast together, it was a typical morning for them and it didn't surprise Della one bit that her Gramps had waited until she got home from 'work' to make breakfast for himself. It was something they'd been doing since the day she'd arrived with her mother at fourteen; the only routine she'd ever truly had. It was why she had been anxious to get away from baby-faced Jeremy that morning. Her Gramps would not eat breakfast without her there to share it with him.
With pancake batter on their faces from 'accidentally' turning the mixer up to the highest setting and syrup dripping from the sides over their overloaded plates they sat speaking jovially about history, something Gramps was entirely enraptured by. Their shared fondness of history was something that had brought them together when Della had first lost her mother. She had felt so alone and detached, until Gramps had sparked her interest when he rambled off about the French and Indian war, which had instantly piqued her interest. For years they spent their morning discussing anything at all that had historical merit. Gramps had been the reason Della had decided to major in History.
Today, the spoke about ancient Italy and the Roman Empire, because the paper she had yet to write for her Ancient Civ class was due Monday. Then Louis decided to bring up Della's future.
"I hope that one day you can find what you're looking for. I have the highest of hopes for you, sweet pea." Gramps smiled at his only granddaughter.
"I want to travel," She confessed, knowing that her Gramps was completely against it but she had to get it out there that this was what she wanted to do, she didn't want to stay in one place stagnating like most people. Complacency was not in her nature.
Gramps' lips twitched up in a small, sad smile, "You're as stubborn as your mother was, you know that? Free-spirited and determined to do what you feel is right for you. You're a nomad by nature, I think," He shook his head with an exasperated expression gracing his features, "You know, I admire the tenacity. I've always been proud of the woman Lyn became during her travels. Not to say she wasn't wonderful before she'd left but she really came into herself during those years the two of you were out gallivanting the country."
"Mom always talked about you and Grams, you know? She loved you, even though we weren't around," Della stated before taking another bite of waffle and grinning at Louis from across the table. "She told me every time she called you asked her to come home and she flat out refused. She really was adamant that we stay gone, but I think she regretted not visiting a couple times a year."
"I sometimes wished Lyn would find a good job, a good man, and settle down with you somewhere to give you both some stability. When you two came back after Lyn had been diagnosed with Lupus I could see how miserable you both were to be stuck here. I know Lyn had far more planned for the two of you. She was thinking about selling the trailer and using the money to move you two to Europe after you graduated. She had it in her head that you two would travel the world together." Gramps smiled almost forlornly as he dipped another bite of his own waffle into the syrup that had coagulated on his plate. "I think that you'll just have to do that for you both. Maybe one day you'll find love- someone that will follow you in your travels. A like-minded man, just be sure he's a good one."
Della, not having it in her heart to scoff at the idea, smiled kindly, "Gramps, men aren't good. They're vultures and parasites, love is just a notion that children believe in. It's an illusion of happiness based on ancient ideals."
Louis laughed, deep and hearty, "I'll tell ya, you are just like Lyn's clone. You may not look much like she did but the way you think, your words, and your actions make you just the spitting image of the woman," He grinned at his granddaughter, "One day, your opinion will change."
"Care to make a wager on that one, Gramps?" Delphia grinned slyly, "Winner buys the loser a drink?"
"You're on, sweat pea. You'll lose, though. Even if it takes another twenty years, you will lose," He winked at her, getting up and gathering some of the dishes.
"That's what you think!" Della exclaimed, grabbing the rest of the dishes and meeting him at the sink.
It was one of the better meals they'd had together in the last few months, and it meant so much to both of them that words could not express the feeling of happiness and elation that had surged through that kitchen in the hour they'd spent.
It was almost fitting, that this meal would be their last together. Once the dishes were done and Della was beginning to make her way up the stairs to her room to work on her essay, Louis Payne had collapsed in a heap on the living room floor, shattering his '# 1 Grandpa' coffee mug as he fought a losing battle in order to breathe.
Author's Message
Yeah, so, I'm not scared to kill people in my stories. I'm writing about vampires, the human eater ones – people are gonna die. I'm only a little sorry I killed Della's grandpa.
Typically, updates will come on Wednesday or Thursday. Since tomorrow is my birthday I decided I'd get this out a day in advance.
Anyways, a big hug and virtual cookies go out to the lovely people who favored, alerted, and reviewed this week – you guys are fantastic! Also to my beta, MissVoltriKingsfan, she diligently gets these chapters back to me so you're all one step closer to reading my sucky work, grammar problems effectively slain!
I do have a favor to ask you all, however. I've thrown a poll on my profile. Let's face it, Della will be a vampire. She might have a power, she might not, but I am torn between a few options and I would like your opinions so I can begin incorporating a bit of it into her human life. I will also have an option for no special ability, since I know that sometimes we just want normal little man eating vampire bitches walking around. I promise the abilities I can't decide between aren't to over-powered, like mind control or clairvoyance or some shit. So I'll have to poll up until probably next Monday. If you guys could just clicky my name and pick one that you like, that would help me out a bunch!
Since it's illegal to eat children nowadays, I've become forced to eat reviews and favorites for breakfast. Nom Nom Nom.
Don't forget to Feed the Beast.