This is how much I love you guys. Yesterday I spent all day, literally all day, typing in my month's work for my WIP. More than 17,000 words. More than 50 pages of story. I worked from about 2 o'clock in the afternoon to about 11 last night. I considered typing this in last night and just couldn't do it. My fingers weren't working anymore. I then considered waiting until this upcoming 3 day weekend to get it up but I said no. I said last weekend of the month and I'm sticking to it. So I did it this morning. And it figures. This is one of the longer chapters. But, alas, here it is. This is one of my favorite chapters, just for the history alone I gave these characters. I had actually forgotten how intense it was until I started typing it in.

And I want to point out that the character Detta and Marko encounter in this chapter is the one I'm affording her own book. I hope you see why I loved her to pieces enough to write her own story. Not to mention she wouldn't stop bugging me until I did.

I also heard a rumor that the site now has a 15 chapter limit on stories. I just checked the few updated in the last week and there's one with 30 chapters updated just yesterday and one with 18 a few days ago. I'm leaning more towards "not true" on that one, simply from what my eyes have seen. I'm guessing people were having uploading trouble with their stories. I think my master file is too big to upload because it just won't. I have to break off the chapter and upload it alone in order to get it to work. I don't know. But just in case there is (which I highly doubt), if you see this part labeled Part 1 and another story crops up with Part 2, you'll know why. I just want my bases covered.

Enjoy!

vVv

The ocean was so different here. Although in open water, the waves were significantly smaller, the water murkier, even at this hour of night. The breeze off the water was warmer, more humid. Summers in New York were always hellacious; the buildings trapped in the heat that the tar would soak up. Occasionally you'd come across a wind tunnel but it was far from pleasing. All it did was slam sweltering heat, exhaust and the stench of urine into your senses. But as unappealing as that sounded in her head, Detta missed it. There was nothing bad about Santa Carla but New York always rang true to her, even now in her vampire life. It fit and here she was at ease on her own. It was a place that she could truly call home. Santa Carla was growing on her but if Marko weren't with her, it just wouldn't feel right, not entirely.

As she sat on the bench that looked out across the tiny portion of beach, Detta waded around in her senses, figuring out what was going on. Marko was scoping for dinner, probably flirting up some pretty little thing in the amusement park. He felt her presence though and she knew he'd find her soon. There was something else, a new connection that she felt. The thoughts she was receiving were confused, lied to, there was an attempt to comfort there, a little fear and youth. Laddie drank from the bottle. She wondered how it had all played out. She could have easily found out, just tap into Star's mind but she decided to leave the girl with her privacy. She was torn. Detta knew that. She didn't want Laddie to die but Star was suffering as a half vampire and didn't want him to go through that pain either. She hadn't been one long but Detta could tell that it had already worn on her. Star was going to starve herself to death before she fed and if she did, by chance, succumb to temptation, she'd probably throw herself into the sunlight before her mind had a chance to forget her past. But if she had been turned against her will, would that remain, that animosity from human to undead life? Detta's unresolved issues with Ted superceded her human life until they were resolved. It's likely Star would feel resentment and hate if she were turned completely. But how could that be resolved other than with her own death?

Dwayne felt different as well, more of a protector. He wanted to shield Laddie from it all, much in the way Star did, and Laddie took to him, a father figure, Star the mother and Paul. Paul was the goofy big brother he never had. It hadn't been long since Laddie drank but each member of her vampire family had taken their role with Laddie. David was done with him. Detta knew that. Her and Marko? Well, she'd probably have more interaction with the kid than Marko would but that's not saying much. Detta was never fond of children. Marko, he couldn't care less, really. He'd be better off without one around but he'd just make it obvious what was his and keep Laddie away. Detta wondered, though, just what made Laddie run away from home to begin with? He hadn't been gone long, Detta could sense that, and he wasn't damaged like Star was. Detta felt a childish reason bubbling to the surface; he didn't get what he wanted, or didn't want to finish out a punishment. Whatever the reason was, it was warrantless, she knew that much.

Detta felt pressure on the bench next to her and was eerily reminded of David when he had sat down next to her those years ago, before she knew any of them. But out of the corner of her eye she saw Marko's patchwork jacket flash past as he stepped over the back of the bench to settle himself next to her, draping his arm around her shoulder. Detta leaned into him, resting her head on his arm. He countered and reached across her with his free arm to grab her knees and shift them over his legs so they draped across him, her body turned to his.

"Everything all set?" he asked.

Detta nodded. "It's all done. I can hardly remember any of it now."

"I know. That's the thing with unresolved issues. They stay unresolved until you resolve them."

"Gee, thanks for the enlightenment, Captain Obvious. What would I do without your pearls of wisdom to guide me?" she laughed up at him.

Marko rolled his eyes and smiled down at her, bringing his lips to hers. "You know what I mean. When you're human with something like that, it feels like a weight is lifted. When you're a vampire the memory is lifted. When you live as long as we do, you can't have excess memories like that staying in your head. They end up becoming an unnecessary weight."

"And what happens if they stay?"

"You mean if the problem remains unresolved?" Detta nodded. "Then you suffer. You have that resentment, the anger, sadness, whatever it is that's attached to that memory. It stays with you."

"And if you can't resolve it?"

"Then it's a burden you carry for eternity."

"That sucks."

"Your eloquence is what I like about you," Marko started, a grin spreading across his face before Detta pushed him and stood up.

"Oh shut it. Come on, let's go. I'm hungry. Find anything good?"

"You like Mohawks?"

"I can handle a Mohawk."

Marko and Detta walked along the boardwalk, back towards the people and their prey. Detta had been right. Food definitely was not a problem in New York City. Like Santa Carla, the beach was littered with runaways; only here the numbers were double, maybe even triple. People were darker, on edge, but if you showed a hint of punk or nonconformist angst, they would accept you as their own. Marko was able to infiltrate a group with ease, the lot of them up for the taking.

On their way back to the throng, Detta stopped at a dimly lit shop. The windows were lit with red and orange lights, backlit with purple. Tapestries with odd pictures and symbols hung in the windows. A faint smell of incense made its way out the door as Detta looked up and saw the sign that read 'psychic' hanging over it, creaking slightly in the small breeze. Detta looked down at the door again before looking over at Marko who had walked a few paces ahead and stopped.

"Lets do it."

He looked confused. "Do what?" Then he realized the sign Detta was standing under. His eyebrow cocked and a sarcastic smile started to spread across his face. "Are you serious?"

Detta shrugged her shoulders. "Why not? It'll be fun."

Marko walked back to her, his eyes shifting around the scene. "If she's real—"

"She is. I can feel it."

"If we're found out—"

"Who'd believe her?" Detta whispered, her own eyebrow raised now. "She won't say anything, I know she won't. She operates under discretion. You sense it. You know you do."

"Yeah, still, doesn't ease the anxiety any more. There's still a risk."

"There's always a risk. But maybe we can find out about this connection. Whatever it is, maybe she can help; enlighten us because we've obviously hit a roadblock. Don't you want to know?"

"I do. There's no other way to do it, is there?"

"Can one of the guys tap into that area?"

"Even if they could I wouldn't want them digging that deep."

"Alright then. We do this, then we eat. Ok? For me? Humor me after my night."

"As if you can remember it."

"I can . . . sort of . . . a bit . . . shut up."

Marko smiled and grabbed her face, kissing her lips and then her forehead before walking around her to open the door. The air inside the store was thick with incense, the ambiance dark. Lit candles were spread around the various bookshelves and glass counters, all held items for sale. Books on witchcraft, crystal balls of all sizes, medallions, jewelry, every piece of odd and end one could imagine a psychic selling, she sold it. Various herbs and stones littered each corner while tarot cards and palmistry kits encircled them. It was elaborate, all the trinkets and tapestries and lighting. It could have been a fake to anyone but Detta could feel the grounding in the shop, the reality. The thousands of fake psychics out there that hawked false prophecies gave those with real talent a bad name. This woman, wherever she was, was one of the genuine ones.

"I've been waiting for you."

Both Detta and Marko jumped and turned around, startled by the woman that appeared from behind a curtain that neither of them had heard approach. They were both too engrossed in the room to notice. The woman saw the startled and shocked looks on their faces and her face dropped, her eyebrow raised.

"You kidding me? You two been standing outside my store for five minutes. That thing ain't nearly solid, you know." The woman motioned towards the tapestry handing in the window. It was sheerer from the inside than it appeared from the outside. One could very clearly see people walking past the window. Detta turned back to her, shock still on her face. "Don't need to be psychic to see that. Besides, I have a trip in the back that's connected to the door. Tells me when someone comes in. Little shits try stealing from me again and I'll hex them! So, what can I do you for?"

Detta was expecting a gypsy; someone that looked like Star with a wispy, mysterious voice that spoke in vague sentences. Her clothes matched the part; flowing dress, glitter about, bangles up her arms, but her Brooklyn accent and hard-ass attitude was the exact opposite Detta had imagined in a person like her.

"We'd like a reading."

"Together or separate?"

"Together."

"That'll be thirty. You're in luck. I'm running a couples special this week."

"Lucky us," Marko mumbled under his breath as Detta elbowed him in the ribs.

"Ooooh, a skeptic, huh? Yeah, you've always been like that. Won't believe something until it's proven. I'll make you a believer, kiddo. Follow me. The name's Layla, by the way. And I swear to god, you start singing that song and I'll slap you."

Detta fought back a chuckle as Marko stared at her in disbelief. She was tucking Detta's money into a pocket in her dress while she let the two behind the curtain and into the back room. It was small, a single circular table in the center, chairs around it with candles scattered about on tables around the room. There were no windows back there and yet even more tapestries hung around the walls. Marko ushered Detta into a chair then took a seat himself, followed by Layla across the table,

"Yeah, used to be a bathroom. I figured it would work better as a reading room. I can't do this out there. Right hands, lets go."

Detta placed her hand, palm up, in the center of the table. Marko removed his glove, tucked it into a jacket pocket and did the same. Layla grabbed one hand at a time, looked at it quickly and then looked back up at them.

"First off, you're vampires."

Marko's free hand clamped down on Detta's knee as she spoke. "Ok, and that means . . ." she started nonchalantly.

"You serious? It means you're vampires. Suck blood, only come out at night. The whole shebang."

"And your proof?" Marko asked through clenched teeth.

"Proof? Aside from the fact that your asshole just puckered so tightly it made a sucking noise? I can sense it. You, kid, are far too old to be this young and you . . ."

"Detta."

"Detta, you are new to the game. You had to. It was this or death."

Marko laughed. "You still can't prove we're vampires."

Layla laughed this time. "No, but you can prove to me you are. We all know the truth. You're just denying it. Go ahead. Come on. I won't tell."

Detta looked up at Marko, a question mark on her face. Marko's face plainly stated no, they weren't going to cave for this woman. But she broke into their thoughts.

"Please. You two think you're the only vampires that come in here? Those white faces on St. Mark's? It's not all paint. Come on. Your secret's safe with me. I swear. If I tell, you can kill me."

They looked back at each other and Marko read Detta, her thoughts clear. She trusted this woman. She could see the truth in her. Marko couldn't deny it. He saw it too. It was just, normally, out of the question to expose yourself to a mortal without bleeding them dry afterwards. It was Marko that slid into his vampire form. His reflexes were faster and if he needed to react, he could. Detta's eyes bounced from Marko to Layla but her expression never faltered. She wasn't surprised. He slid back to human form and Layla spoke again.

"Now that wasn't so bad, was it? I thank you for not eating me." Marko nodded reluctantly as Layla continued. "Now that that hurdle is out of the way we can move on." She picked up each hand and examined the palm, studying it, extracting information. When she had examined both, she looked back up at them, her face expressionless. "Do you want the past first of the future first? Neither are very pleasant."

Detta and Marko looked at each other and he answered. "Past."

Layla nodded. "You're looking for a reason for this connection you two have. A pull, a drive towards each other. When you met you had that feeling of fulfillment and when you turned her," she looked to Marko, "you opened up the connection even more. You allowed yourselves to wander in and out of each other's psyches looking for answers that you haven't been able to find. That connection was broken recently but only for a short period of time. You two felt empty, despair, hollow, yes? But you got it back and all was well. But no one knows why this is. When Detta was human, she made you human, kid. You felt again. You had emotions that ran deeper than your next feed and it scared you. She couldn't feel it to the extent that you could because you're a vampire and for that you almost envied her. Now you both know what it's like even though he—"

"Marko," Marko interjected.

"Marko still feels it a little more because of his age. When you both were human, you had this hole that just couldn't be filled. No matter who you bedded down with or who you thought you loved, you always felt something was missing and that you should be searching for it. I think Marko said it said it best when he said 'what once was lost now is found.'"

Detta sighed but Marko's face remained stoic, attempting not to show any emotion. "A lot of people say that," he replied.

"They do but it's just a little more poignant with you two. See, your souls are what we call mated. I guess you could say they're tagged to attract each other. Every time it's reanimated, it finds its mate at some point in its vessel's life. That goes without question. What remains a variable is how long that meeting lasts. Once mated souls come together, they stay together until one, or both, loses its vessel." Layla saw the contemplative look on Detta's face at the word vessel. "It's what us futuristically minded folk refer to as bodies as, you know, the bag of bones you're sitting in now?"

"Thanks," Detta answered sardonically.

"I can see the lives you two have had. Not all of them, but many."

"Was it us," Detta began. "You know, our bodies in those lives?"

"Layla shook her head. "No. Different vessels, different names. Unfortunately Hollywood likes to fudge the concept of reincarnation. The only thing that you carry from life to life is your soul. That's it. The looks, the names, even the personality, get left behind with the vessel. The pain you felt when your connection broke, it was equivalent to the death of the vessel. Each of your souls thought the other had died. For a soul to lose its mate is agony."

"I know," Marko and Detta whispered simultaneously.

Layla smiled. "But you know how that ended, don't you? This life, though, is different from your last ones. You're defying nature, making the vessel last longer than it should. Your time together will be longer, of course, and it will end the same way it always has. As backwards as it sounds, immortality isn't forever."

"So we'll live a long time then?" Detta asked, excitement in her voice."

Layla's smile dropped. "There's not a lot more to tell of your past. Should I finish that?"

"Yes, please," Marko answered. Detta turned to him but before she could speak, he cut her off. "I want to hear this."

Layla turned to Detta. "You'll get your answer in a moment. Now, with past lives, not everyone is fortunate enough to live a long, healthy life each cycle and you two are no exception. You've had a mix, both long and short lives, sometimes ending together, sometimes apart."

"So we've been with each other in every life our souls have had?" Detta asked.

"That's right. The whole concept of mated souls is that they mate. But you wouldn't recognize yourselves if you saw yourselves in the past, as I've said already. You've had lives where you've died old, died young, one dies before the other, even one where you killed each other to escape punishment."

"Punishment for what?" Marko frowned.

Layla smiled again. "Oh, just Christians. Anyway, I think I'll tell you your most recent life together. You should know what you were doing before you came into your current one. It was Massachusetts in the 1600s—"

"Oh shit, I was burned at the stake, wasn't I?" Detta jumped in.

Layla slumped her shoulders and frowned. "Talk about jumping the gun. You going to let me tell the story or what?" Her accent was more prominent when she was angry.

"Sorry. Go ahead."

"You're too kind. Where was I? Right, Puritan Massachusetts. You two lived further inland, away from Salem and Boston, in a little village in the woods. You were religious folk but nothing like the rest. Your whole village was like that. They were able to see the hypocrisy that carried across the Atlantic so you all quietly went away to live on your own. You were happy."

"Did you know our names?" Detta asked.

Layla shook her head. "Sorry. You had two daughters and three sons," Detta cringed at the thought of the pain, "and they helped you farm. Detta, you were a seamstress, a quilter. People paid you for your work. Marko, you were a carpenter. You had managed the building of every house in your village on top of tilling the land. You were a loving family and you loved each other, all of the couples did. No orgies or anything but you guys were definitely having more sex than the rest of the colony combined, something that was forbidden under their religious law. To the rest, it was copulate to populate. For your sect, it went beyond that. It was a means to show love and bring yourselves pleasure.

"This made the men of the Bay Colony jealous and almost resentful although outwardly they were outraged. The women were disgusted, appalled that such devilish fornication was being had so close to them. They wanted something done. Because they all feared each other, they did."

"Feared each other?" Marko asked.

Layla nodded. "Don't get me wrong. Some actually believed the shit they were spitting but many didn't but they acted the hypocrites to save their own asses. It was a means of survival.

"Anyway, the men put together a team, armed themselves, and went into the woods to lay siege on the village. It was small so you were easily outnumbered. At gunpoint everyone, men, women and children, were corralled into a barn. The men were held at one end while the women were made to strip. The colonial men saw them as nothing more than savage bitches, dogs, and so they should act as such. You were shot once," she nodded to Marko, "in the leg, for trying to help. The men then decided to go hunting." She shook her head. "And they called the Indians savages. They let the women run out of the barn, the female children too. Gave them a head start and then went after them. Some of the women were raped before they were killed. This included you and your daughters. Others, the hunters didn't even want to touch them. All of the bodies were left in the woods for the elements to take of.

"The men put up more of a fight. A couple escaped, including your oldest son, but the rest died in that barn. The colonials set it on fire before they left. When that had burned down, they decimated the rest of the village, wiped it clean off the map. In a matter of weeks it looked like it had never existed."

"What happened to my son?"

Detta looked to Marko when he spoke, his words soft yet strong. In this life, he wasn't one for children but the idea that he had had a son in a former life sparked something in him, almost a swell of pride for his boy, the one he never knew.

"You taught him well. He made it to New York and was adopted by an Indian tribe. He became a liaison between the white man and the Indians. He married, had children, lived a long life but it was scarred by what had happened. He never forgot it."

"And why did we need to know that life?" Detta asked.

Layla shrugged. "You didn't need to know but it might explain some things for you two. More so for Detta. There are other lives, Marko, that would be a bit more enlightening for you."

Marko turned to Detta. "You do have a tendency to get hunted, don't you?"

"Cute. I think it explains David, actually, why we don't click. I think he was the one that hunted me then too. It would explain the exposure thing I have with him, the fear of his rape, in any sense of the word."

"What he did to you was rape. It just wasn't sexual," Marko interjected.

"I know."

"Unresolved issues," Layla intervened, "can carry on from life to life until they're resolved. If you don't work things out with this David now, chances are you'll run into him again in the next life."

Detta shuddered. She didn't want him around now, let alone in the next life. "And what about our future?"

Layla's face dropped; her look became forlorn. "There are things that I'm not allowed to foretell. It would be unethical. Yes, even we prophetically enabled have a code of ethics. That list is pretty big but I will say this. A crisis is coming. The ball has already started rolling on that path but the real trouble has yet to come. Do not warm to strangers." She reached out across the table and grabbed both of Detta's hands in her own, clasping them tightly. "You must remember, your blood is stronger now." Layla smiled lightly before releasing her hands and standing up. "Well, I think that's enough information for you to process for tonight. You can always come back but this session is done."

Detta and Marko stood up as Layla ushered them out of the back room. They gave their thanks as they moved across the store and out into the ocean air. It was a lot to mull over but it was enlightening as well. At least now they had an answer for their connection. It wasn't much but it was more than they originally had. Mated souls. Soul mates. A rather simple yet romanticized view behind their feelings for each other. Detta always had the notion that the concept of a soul mate was just someone that you knew to be perfect for you, just a feeling. Not such an intense physical and psychic connection. She guessed that she should consider herself lucky. Not many people had the opportunity to feel such drastic emotions.

"What did you think?" Marko asked when they had walked away from the store.

"Informative. Who da thunk that we were soul mates that were tortured in our last lives?"

Marko grabbed her hand and spun her around to face him, gripping them onto her waist to pull her in. He studied her features, her eyes, brushed his fingertips along her cheeks, across her lips. He bent his head down and his lips met hers. Now more than ever it felt as if they were the only two in the world. Everything else faded away when they came together. Marko pulled away first, looking back into her eyes before kissing her forehead. He reached down and grabbed her hand to lead her along the pier.

"You liked the idea of having a son, didn't you?" she asked as they carried on.

"I did but there's nothing I can do about it now. I'll never happen. We infect, we don't procreate."

"Still, the thought that you had one made you proud."

"Yeah but this is what I have now," he said, shaking her hand in his. "It's all I need. Maybe we'll get a dog or something."

"Right. A hound from Hell like Thorn?"

"I was thinking a Wolfhound."

"A cuddly little thing, then."

Marko laughed and draped his arm around her shoulders. "You hungry?"

"Starving."

"The group I was talking about earlier is right over there."

Detta looked in the direction Marko pointed. A mass of black huddled along the railing, dotted with bright pink and blue. She spotted a few Mohawks and a lot of make-up.

"Oh, the punks. The nonconformists conforming."

The groups recognized Marko as they got closer. A couple of the girls looked disappointed at the sight of Detta. She only smiled broadly, her sedate appearance a stark contrast to the crowd. Marko was greeted with numerous phrases, his name, some pats on the back, before he introduced her.

"This is my girl, Detta, guys. She's cool."

"I hope so," Detta replied sarcastically.

"Well, sometimes."

Detta smirked and attempted to elbow him playfully in the ribs but he had edged out of the way.

"Holy shit, Detta?"

Detta looked up and glanced around the group for the voice who said her name.

"No fucking way. That can't be you."

The accent wasn't as heavily stated as Layla's but it was there, probably because he was excited. Detta could feel his heart pounding.

"I thought you were dead!"

There was a guy standing close to her now, a look of utter shock on his face. She had a feeling that she should have known him but nothing was clicking. His familiarity was almost on the tip of her tongue and when she had thought she'd come close to reaching it, it receded back even further. A contemplative look crossed Detta's face before it fell into a look that said she had given up the search.

She looked to Marko who looked just as confused as she did before she spoke. "I'm sorry but am I supposed to know you?"

The guy looked anxious, grasping at straws in an attempt to get her to understand. "You fucking serious? Detta, it's Jackie. You know, your brother?"

vVv

Reviews are always appreciated.