True Mate Saga Book One: Demetri

Chapter Eight

No action is without consequence.

Demetri sat staring unblinkingly at the fraying floral wallpaper in his rented room. He could hear the humans that resided in this expanse partially dilapidated accommodations, their conversations, and their activities. He could differentiate how many different televisions were on and how many rooms were watching different channels from one another. Demetri could hear the animals outside and the cars as they drove by the motel, the families inside said vehicles he could hear as clearly as if they were in the room with him.

Yet Demetri focused on only a signal heartbeat. Three doors away from his own, Delphia was still awake despite him having left her as she began to fall asleep two hours prior.

He had wondered if he had given away too much information during their conversations that day, surely not, since she would soon be one of his kind so legally he had done no wrong. His largest concern was whether or not she was now frightened of him. Her reaction to his presence in her room that morning had caused a certain panic that he had never felt before, her scream of absolute terror forced him to think he had harmed her with his prodding of her person while she slept. He had not ever had the need to be gentle with a human before and was under the impression that lately he was exercising control in its utmost form, a fact that was growing more and more tedious by the day. When she had apologized and explained herself, Demetri was hit with another sobering realization of Delphia's humanity.

It was another reminder of how human his mate currently was. Her humanity was making it rather difficult for him, though he still did not know her and her reactions well enough to truly introduce her to his world and turn her. From what he could already discern, Delphia was liable to run off the moment she awoke in her second life as things stood at this moment. No, he would not turn her until his two months were drawing to a close and not a moment sooner unless he was left with no choice.

Even still, he fought the urge to take her to the bayou and turn her. Tonight. Surely Aro would be pleased with the idea, if only to bring his tracker back sooner.

At least as of that morning Delphia had warmed up to him enough to jest with him, Demetri had seen that as a sure sign that she was feeling something of the mating bond they shared, at least it was a start. He need only push it in the right direction.

After her reaction when she had thought him a member of the Italian Mafia, Demetri was no longer certain that she had been able to place any measure of trust in him. She had clearly lied to him about having currently or in the past had an issue with the criminal organization. Though she'd made a correct statement out of it in attempts to cover the lie. Had she have had any sort of conflict with the Mafia, she would or at least should be dead. Her lie, despite the fact that he knew she more than likely couldn't trust him enough to tell him the truth about whatever it was that had frightened her to such an extent as to cause her body to become ridged, her heart beating so quickly she seemed to be on the verge of a heart attack, had caused him to need to feed much sooner than he anticipated.

As soon as he had left the room he'd flitted out into the bayou and found a man to drain. He had done so with great vigor, taking every last drop the man had to offer before cautiously breaking his neck and tossing him for the alligators to feed from. Demetri's instincts were fighting back with a vengeance, and he'd stood around staring at the corpse of his meal until the alligators had come and then had wrestled the animals in order to expel some of his frustrated energy.

When he finally came back to himself, after an hour or so, Demetri was forced into reason. The simple thought of someone influential making an attempt on his mate's life had nearly forced him to bite her then and there, to save her from possible human death if she were to run across her own enemies. And in his experience the Mafia had actually been a quite formidable foe, for a group of humans.

When Demetri had returned to Delphia's room he was assaulted with the faint scent of the local coven leader, Marie Laveau and one he did not recognize, but assumed it was one of Marie's coven. He assumed that they had either entered Della's motel room without permission or she or had somehow met Della during the day. Either way, Demetri's mind ran over every possibility and probability.

And if he found that Laveau harbored any malicious intent for his mate then the New Orleans coven would cease to exist, and soon.

When Della made no mention of having been threatened or harassed, Demetri decided that he would not leave his position near her besides for feeding purposes. Her safety was his utmost priority. He would need to assert himself and his rank in the vampire world over the residing coven, should Delphia wish to remain in New Orleans for much longer.

Perhaps his worries were unfounded, perhaps not. The only way for him to discover the truth would be to gain Delphia's trust. So far, he realized, he had been doing an awful job at accomplishing that task. He was glad that Felix or any other member of the esteemed Volturi was not around to witness his current behavior, for he would certainly become the new court jester for the better part of a century.

Demetri had never attempted to court a woman before, human or vampire. His ex-wife Cassiopeia and he had merely matched out of mutual gain and as a way to combat the loneliness of a mate-less existence. They had not loved, and they had not been mates. He had not courted Cassiopeia, they had no reason to have done so. After his wife, he'd not had to court any of his conquests, as he had been accustomed to simply taking what he wished to have.

That behavior would not do when it came to his own mate. Delphia was his equal, together they would be partners, two different halves of the same being currently on two planes of existence. Soon, they would be equal in every sense.

Hearing shuffling and the creaking in Della's room, Demetri noticed that she had finally gotten into bed. It wasn't too much longer after that and her heartbeat slowed enough for Demetri to realize that she had finally fallen asleep.

What a waste, Demetri thought. Having not slept in well over a thousand years he could no longer imagine how such a form of unconsciousness would feel. He imagined that sleep would be like floating in an abyss of nothingness, only to eventually free fall into wakefulness several hours later. He wondered what sleeping dreams were like, and if his nightmares would be more like memories of his own indecencies.

Forgoing nightmares and delving deeper into the realm of philosophy, what of the vampire's soul when final death is at last obtained? He knew what the theists would say. Vampires, once dead, would belong to the innermost circles of hell. The soul of a vampire had been sold to the Devil himself the moment they had crossed over into that life. But what of the other religions of the world?

Demetri wondered what he would be damning Delphia to when he turned her into one of his own kind. Thoughts like these had never entered Demetri's mind before. It was as if as silent and statuesque as he was at the moment it was the absolute opposite in his wandering cognizance. The gears in his mind turned over as rapidly as a humming birds wings as he thought over philosophy and theology, two subjects he had refrained from contemplating in his unnaturally long lifetime.

An overwhelming feeling of powerlessness was beginning to wear on the thousand-year-old immortal. Demetri had never dealt with such feelings, aside from being caught under the vengeful gaze of Jane or the paralyzing vapor of Alec. There had always been a clear path for him, and easy or at very least pliable way to complete his tasks as set before him. In the past ten days, he had not had a clear path. Every plan he compiled was shot down in less than two days. Delphia was different, his limited knowledge of her character in comparing her to other human's he'd heard of showed as much.

Demetri was jolted from his thoughts as he heard the familiar ring of a cell phone three rooms down. Since the majority of the humans who were staying in the motel were asleep, he was easily able to focus in on the conversation as Delphia answered the call, though the conversation from the other end was much more difficult to discern.

"Miss Payne, this is Officer Branson with the Detroit PD, I'm sorry for the late night call." A man's voice came over the receiver, though his voice was slightly muffled due to the distance and barriers.

"That's alright Officer, what's happened?" Delphia's voice was calm, if still groggy from sleep, and Demetri could hear her rustle in the covers, as if she was pulling herself up.

The officer sighed, "I'm sorry to inform you, but tonight I answered a call of a house fire and it happened to be your grandfather, Louis Payne's, home. We're not sure yet, but we think it is directly related to a case we were working on with a local drug lord."

Delphia's voice was heavy, as if she were choking back emotion, "Why would a local drug lord want to burn down my Gramps' house?"

"Unfortunately Miss Payne, we can't fully answer that question at this time. We suspect that it has something to do with Mary Payne and her history with this particular man."

"Is Mary being arrested again?"

"That brings me to another issue I wanted to discuss with you, Miss Payne. It seems that your Aunt has gone missing. She hasn't been seen in three days around any of her usual spots, and she didn't show up to work. For my report, I'd like to ask where you are and when the last time you saw your Aunt was?"

Della sucked in a breath and heaved a sigh when the officer reported Mary missing. Demetri did not know how she would handle this situation. He was under the impression that Delphia did not harbor any real connections in her family, from standing on the sidelines and observing her during her Grandfather's funeral. Now, he would reap what he sowed in consequence of his actions with Mary.

"I'm in Louisiana right now. I don't know for how much longer. I'm a traveler, so I don't really stay in the same spot for too long. The last time I saw Mary was right after my Gramps' funeral a few days ago at the reading of his will." Della answered, seemingly calm.

"Alright, Miss Payne. Do you think for any reason Mary would follow you?"

"No, Officer, she wouldn't. First of all, she had no idea where I was going. Second of all, she doesn't care enough about me to follow me anywhere. I'd like to ask something about the house, sir, if I can." Della stated.

"Of course, Ma'am."

"Is there anything that can be saved, or is it gone?" Her voice was losing its calm façade and Demetri was standing, ransacking his brain for a justification in bounding into her motel room.

"I'm sorry, Miss Payne, we were unable to reach it in time. The house has been burnt to its foundation."

Demetri was standing outside now, seeing the light on in Della's room he quickly walked down to the vending machine by the office and bought a bottle of water while Della and the officer wrapped up the phone call. He opened the bottle and dumped over half of it onto the ground and then walked back to Della's door, should he need an excuse for entering he could use the water bottle.

The sound of a wailing banshee assaulted his sense of hearing and he cringed as it grated against his ears. Though the discomfort in the sound was high, what was worse was the fact that the noise of utter helplessness came from his own mate. Demetri had heard the sobs of millions of humans, victims of both him and the rest of the Volturi, over his thousand years on this earth. Never before had he felt so compelled to make them stop, at all costs.

The feeling of powerless panic rose deep within his body. He felt as though his undead heart pounded in his chest for the first time in millennia, though he knew this to be a trick of his emotional state. As a vampire, he had never felt such a jitter in his body. It was as if the whole thing was alight and his instincts were on fire, ready and willing for his brain to decide what needed to be done.

Forgetting himself and caving to his instinct, Demetri slid the little plastic card that he'd stolen from Delphia through the door of her room. The only light that was on in the room was the one on the nightstand by the far left side of the bed. On the bed itself, Delphia was sitting with her back against the wall, knees pulled up to her chin and her forehead resting across them with her arms wrapped tightly around her legs as if keeping herself hidden, protected, and safe from the world around her. Her wails had quieted only by a fraction, and it was clear that she had not heard him enter.

It was a sight that Demetri would not soon forget, his mate looking utterly helpless and lost. The sight almost forced him to feel the same as she clearly did, but his age and instinct told him no. No, he caused this, he must fix it. His very instincts were reminding him that had he not killed Mary, then she may have been able to pay off whatever debt she owed the narcotics dealer, and perhaps the house would remain standing until the next threat.

Despite his thoughts, which were growing louder by the minute, Demetri flitted over to the side of the bed Delphia was sitting on while she wasn't paying attention to anything around her. Without warning her that he was there, Demetri laid one arm underneath her legs and snaked the other around her back, lifting her just enough to make room for himself and place her back on his lap.

I should not even be here; I have caused this. He scolded himself mentally, but his instincts would not allow him to leave. His inner beast hissed and growled at the thought of doing so. No, he was meant to protect and care for the mate that the gods had given him. Despite his feelings of guilt, he would remain and do as he was meant to.

"What is it, bella cara, what has happened?" He inquired in the most soothing voice he could muster, regardless of the fact he already knew the situation he still found himself wanting to know exactly what her thoughts on the matter were.

Instead of flailing and perhaps even raising her voice with him for barging in, Delphia opened her arms and threw them around his torso, pulling him so that they were almost fused together. Two halves of the same whole. Demetri mused, as he ran his hand down her long red mane while she cried.

Delphia did not answer, only remained snuggled closely against him. She was slowly calming and her wails had quieted to sniffles in a matter of minutes while he held her, whispering to her in Italian, phrases that praised her beauty and told her of his feelings for her and the bond that they shared. He apologized sincerely for the pain that he currently caused and all that he knew he would cause in the future. All of the Italian seemed to be working on the woman, as she finally let out a shaky breath and looked up at him. Her eyes were swollen and red rimmed. There was no mascara, and no eyeliner to be seen. The beauty of her seemed only to magnify without the aid of these products and Demetri found himself placing a delicate kiss to her forehead.

Demetri was so caught up in his mate's deep blue eyes he hadn't stopped to take in the expression of utter astonishment and fascination on hers.

"Demetri," she said calmly, through a voice that was already thick with emotion.

"Si, diletto?"

He looked down into her face and she was staring into his eyes with a fervor that, had he not had a phenomenal sense of smell, he would have though her aroused.

"Do you mind telling me why your eyes are red without contacts?"

Demetri nearly panicked, mentally berating himself for his absolute carelessness. After a thousand years of living as a vampire, the number one rule being do not expose oneself, how could he of all vampires have forgotten about his crimson eyes? Was the stress of his situation actually wearing on him this much? Aro would be displeased when he saw this particular moment. To save him grief from both Delphia and Aro, Demetri quickly concocted the first lie that had come to his mind. Mentally thanking Felix for having read the article on this particular human fad and pestered Demetri about it for days afterwards.

"I had them tattooed over several years ago. I have recently been covering them." Demetri explained.

Demetri couldn't tell if Della had bought the lie or not, she gave no indication as she placed her warm hands on each side of his face and looked closer at his crimson orbs. Her face so close to his, Demetri had to fight to focus on her face, and not the blood that was flowing beneath her flesh. Quickly, Demetri began thinking about literally anything he could to distract himself from her tantalizing scent. In the back of his mind he realized that he would have to feed more regularly now, to maintain the color if she were to see it. Though he could always maintain the contacts, if he so chose.

It dawned on Demetri that this was the first outright lie he'd ever spoken to his mate. His stress level rose a bit higher as his beast snarled at him to bite her, that way they would not have to lie to their mate any longer.

"I bet that hurt like a bitch." She whispered, her own eyes glancing down at his lips and back up into his eyes. Demetri tried not to smirk as he noticed the movement. Clearly she was as attracted to him and he was to her.

Not knowing how much it would hurt a human to have their eyes tattooed, but guessing that it would indeed feel as Delphia had described, Demetri nodded in affirmation of her comment. Crisis averted for the time being, Demetri took Della's hand in his own noting that she had yet to move from his lap and quite content with the arrangement despite the call of her enticing blood. He moved his lips to her forehead once again.

Della remained silent, now staring down at their laced hands and completely unaware of the internall struggle Demetri was having. When she looked back up only a couple of minutes had passed. "How do you just know when to come?" she inquired, her head cocked slightly to the side giving her an inquisitive look.

"I am not sure what you mean, Delphia."

"I don't know, like, you seem to show up at the right times. At first, in the bar, I hadn't wanted someone to talk to. I was just there to do some shots for my Grandpa because he'd just passed away. When you showed up and we spoke for hours on the subject of ancient history like my Gramps and I always had it was like you'd just known that for some reason that was what I needed in that moment and you were there. Then, in the alley, I knew that I was in trouble. I knew that I would end up in the hospital but I wouldn't go out without a fight. Then you just show up like you somehow just knew that I needed a hand, following me or not. And then again tonight." Della took a breath before continuing, "Part of me wants to scream at you, vent my frustrations and disbelief. These last couple of days have been life changing and insane. I don't know how to feel about these events."

Demetri wanted to tell her everything in that moment. It was the hardest ten seconds he'd ever had to endure, holding himself back from confessing the truth of their bond and his immortality. He knew that she wasn't ready to hear it. In fact, she wasn't even ready to face her reality at the moment, she was keeping the topic from the reason for her upset on purpose. Not that he minded, he had his own inner demons he was wrestling. He was biting his tongue so hard with his over sharpened teeth that venom pooled in his mouth in attempts to heal the wound he'd inflicted on himself. He swallowed the venom before he opened his mouth to speak.

"I will always know when you need me, bella cara. The how is not important, the only detail that matters is that I will be there for you through the very pits of hell."

Della looked at him, her eyes seemingly burning into his soul when next she spoke, "When are you going to tell me the truth?"

Again, Demetri had to stop himself from actually professing the truth as she asked for it, once again reasoning that she was not ready for the truth. "In time, diletto. Now please, what has happened tonight that caused so much distress?"

Della snorted and rolled off of his lap and to the opposite side of the bed, pulling herself up so that she was in a sitting position. Demetri was saddened by her sudden departure, as it was like opening the floodgates on his load of stress and unfortunate ponderings, from him as her warmth left his naturally cold body but nonetheless intrigued by her reaction to his practical confession to the fact that he was keeping secrets from her. He had expected anger, and to be told to leave. But of course, nothing would be as expected with Delphia.

"Nice change of subject, Demetri." Della huffed and snatched his discarded water bottle, drinking the rest of it in one swallow.

"I believe it was you who changed the subject in the first place, Delphia." Demetri pointed out, amused by her perception.

Della flashed him a smile, her eyes were less red at this point and he was glad to have provided a distraction at least momentarily, "Well it's not exactly every day that I see red eyes when I look up. I'm not buying that tattoo story, by the way. I've only ever heard of someone tattooing the whites of the eye, not the color bit."

"The sclera and the iris." Demetri corrected.

Della sneered mockingly, "Yeah, that. And I am still fighting myself here. I don't know whether I should yell and scream or tell you what happened. But for some crazy fucking reason I feel like I should just tell you so here it is: The Detroit PD called and told me my aunt was missing and the house I've lived in for the past seven years, the one my mom grew up in, was burnt to the ground."

If he were judging by Della's voice alone, Demetri would say she was most effected by the burning of her family home. He opened his mouth to speak and she shook her head.

"You wanna know what's really bothering me about the whole thing, Demetri?" He nodded for her to continue as she briefly paused and looked at him, "What's really bothering me is that the house burnt because of Mary's probable drug debt with one of Detroit's finest." She spat the last word in such a way that it told Demetri that Della truly did not believe the narcotics dealer to be one of the city's finest, "She has always had a bad drug problem; it wouldn't surprise me if she wanted the house in the first place for something of value to use to barter for more damn drugs. Wherever she's run off too, though, I'm sure her dealer will catch her. I just hope that she has the decency to feel remorse for what she has caused. There were so many memories in that house, decades of memories in fact. It's like she spit on Gramps' memory and that's not alright, If I knew where she was I would gladly drive after her and drag her to the DPD by her fucking hair. I'm lucky I got the mustang out of there at least, I wish I could have taken more."

"Why could you not have taken more?" Demetri questioned, turning his body so it was facing hers and crossing his legs so that he could fully see her face as they spoke. His internal struggles would have to be pushed to the side for now.

Della sighed and looked down at her hands and shrugged her shoulders. He could smell a fresh round of tears welling up in her eyes but she seemed to be choking them back, taking a few breaths before she answered, "I couldn't really afford to keep a bunch of things in storage. Since I don't plan on ever having a home somewhere in particular and the car was packed enough as it is, there wasn't much I could take in way of mementos."

He could not tell her that he had arranged for a nomad indebted to him, the day after he killed Mary, to box all of the pictures in the home, along with any possessions in the room that smelt mostly like Delphia, and have them shipped to Volterra. Felix had agreed to transport them to Demetri's suite. It was to be a surprise for after she'd been turned, and even though she may thank him to know that he'd had such foresight, if he told her now what he had done he figured that she would find the behavior strange and quite possibly flee.

Demetri realized that for all his arsenal of words, he had nothing he could say that would be a comfort to his mate in this situation. He had killed her aunt, and therefore the woman was not simply running from her dealer and her debts. Demetri hadn't even thought to locate and end the narcotics dealer. He couldn't shake the responsibility that his actions had brought upon his shoulders as his mate attempted to regain control over her emotion once again. No action is without consequence, I would do best to remember that, he told himself. Demetri had never had to think about killing humans before, this behavior was strange to him and it was now contributing to his helpless feelings and the restraint he had shown thus far.

He could not simply stop killing the humans, and he could not continue doing so without contemplating his mate's reaction and how his actions might affect her.

The fact that she didn't know about his true nature was starting to get in the way of her own happiness, and his. Though the thought that she may not see the way he did when the truth was revealed kept him from following through with his mental plans for abduction. In truth, he began contemplating how he could justify simply turning her and whether it would be easier to find himself a boat that would take him across the Atlantic or to wait until Delphia was turned and take a private plane, flown by their own kind as to keep Delphia from slaughtering the pilot.

Hopefully things would go back to the way they were soon.

"Hey, remember that statement I made about coming in here without permission?" Della's voice, free of tears, called his attention to her face once more.

He nodded, bracing himself for her anger. But, as usual, Delphia was full of surprises.

"I'm glad you ignored it." She whispered, smiling kindly at him. "But only this one time. Don't get any ideas Dem."

Demetri felt his face stretch into a grin, praising the gods that Delphia was smiling, even if it were just a small one. He reached up and brushed some hair out of her face and leaned over to kiss her forehead once more. He was so intoxicated with her scent that now that he'd thrice placed his lips to her warm skin he could not get enough. He mustered every bit of self-control he could.

He only wondered how he would feel once he kissed her properly.

At the now much faster speed of his mate's heartbeat, Demetri pulled away, his tongue darting out to run across his lips for a teaser of how her mouth would taste but there wasn't much of a flavor to go on. Now is not the time for that, he cautioned himself as he watched Delphia's eyes glaze over and smelt the faint scent of arousal glide into his senses. Knowing that he couldn't properly restrain himself where she to act on her instinct, he quickly made an excuse to leave as her blood began to race and the melody that called to him, urging him to continue what he'd just moments before started, "I should let you get your rest, diletto."

Della had wished him a good night as he exited the room quickly. The call of her blood had become stronger with each passing nanosecond in her aroused state and Demetri felt he had no choice but to feed once again. He made way to the bayou, not bothering to stop at his room as he walked at a human's pace into the swamp. He had half a mind to hunt down Laveau and find out just what it was she had been trying to find when she'd gotten close enough to his mate that her scent lingered on his mate's clothing. He strummed the cord attached to Laveau's mind, she was home, but decided against visiting tonight.

He was gone for only a couple of hours, stalking down someone until finally, just before dawn, he found an older man and drained him dropping his remains into the bayou for the alligators. There was no chance he could keep this up without drawing attention to himself. He would have to feed elsewhere in Louisiana for the next week or so, though even still the human authorities may believe there to be a serial killer on the loose. Though he was certain humans came up missing all of the time it wouldn't hurt to be more cautious. Especially now that he had to keep his eyes the same crimson color so as not to attract further suspicion in Delphia.

Also, Laveau would take it as a personal offence and Demetri's actions would shame Aro. Vampire etiquette was boring, but it kept the balance and the secret. The only problem Demetri was having was that Dlephia's scent called to him so strongly that he had trouble stopping himself. Though he wasn't usually so over indulgent in his feedings, the scent of Delphia's need for him had been unexpected and had caught him off guard, almost forcing him to crave a sustenance that blood could not give him, and having to settle for second best, and he would light his self-dismembered body on fire before he fed off animals like those mutant Cullen's

Demetri had been gone for two hours when he walked back into the motel parking lot. The first thing he noticed was the absence of the black Mustang that he'd come to recognize as Delphia's vehicle. His eyes shifted to see a note on his own door. Growling, he quickly walked at a human pace to the it, since the sun was beginning to rise and he'd rather not attract the attention of early rising humans. Furthermore, he would have to get inside soon or risk exposing himself. Though, he looked up, it looked like storm clouds were rolling in. He pulled the letter from the door, repulsed by the chewing gum that held it in place as it stretched along with the letter.

Wiping his hands of the disgusting stuff, Demetri looked down at the paper.

Demetri,

Tag, you're it.

Love,

Della

"How infuriating!" Demetri growled loudly, folding the letter and cramming it into his pants pocket.


Author's Message

Btw, if you're wondering about the whole soul monologue I had going on, don't worry Demetri is just speculating. He's not Edward. :p

I think I can no longer get away with a T rating. So I'm scaling it up to M with this chapter, but don't worry, still no real hanky panky for a while. Just sexual tension, violence, etc. ;) By the way, I am going waaaay out of my comfort zone when I involve anything sexual. I'm essentially trying something new here so if it's terrible in later chapters go ahead and tell me. I can always go back and edit it all out and toss this a T rating again (if the violence isn't bad). Or I can go back over the scene and try to make it better. You'd think I'd be more mature about it, but here I am, talking about hanky panky instead of outright calling it what it is.. at 24.

EDIT: 5/14/16 Added more angst and inner feelings.