Chapter 4

Origins

Florence, Italy

1891

"I will not go Father," said Fitzgerald. He steeled himself against his father's wrath that was sure to come. Victor looked with disdain around his son's research laboratory. Bubbling beakers, bowls of concoctions, and stacks of books littered every surface, a sign of what occupied him day and night. "I have my work here. I am close to a cure for what plagues us. The scourge-"

"Silence, Fitzgerald! This is over! I've indulged you for too long. There is no cure for what we are. The heritage of nosferatu is a gift not a curse. Ambrogio's destruction had nothing to do with vampirism. He refused to control himself and met with the consequences of his greed. You must stop this search for a cure. It is a waste of your time and talents, Fitzgerald!" Victor moved closer to his son.

"How can you speak that way about your son…my brother? He was killed for what he was…hunted like an animal and killed for a crime he didn't commit. But they were so quick to believe he did it."

Victor's features softened at the agony on his son's face. "Fitzgerald, son, Ambrogio has been dead for almost a millennia now-"

"Ambrogio is not dead, Father. I wish he were because he would have hope of coming back. Our kind…we cannot die. We can only be destroyed. This immortality is a curse of which I can find a cure and-"

"Enough, Fitzgerald!" Victor lifted his son from the floor by the strength of his power until he hovered in the air by several feet. Fitzgerald couldn't move, only hear. "Son, your research is now forbidden! I am destroying this laboratory. What will the other clans think about my control if I allow you, my son, to continue…that I am turning my back on our kind…that I hate who we are…that I am looking for a cure to make us like the lowly humans? You are traveling with this family to America. We have work to do there."

When Victor left the room, the hold was released and Fitzgerald fell to the floor.

New Orleans, Louisiana

1891

"But mother, I don't want to go to the Gala. I would rather stay home and practice casting. I've nearly mastered flame throwing," Olivia said. She sat before the large vanity mirror while her mother pinned up her hair.

"My dear girl, you are becoming two free with your language about the craft. Your father can never know what I've taught you. We have-"

"…renounced the craft, all sorcery, and the dark arts. We are now the priests of the old religion of Santeria that the Orishas have proclaimed…I know mother, I know. I won't tell Father, but when I become seventeen I want to be what I truly am. I will no longer pretend, Mother, I refuse to no matter what Father desires," said Olivia, her jaw set with determination.

Maya hid her irritation. Teaching her daughter the art of casting had been a mistake. She continued to assert her desire to be a witch when she was supposed to become a priestess like she and Rowan. It was time to find her a mate as well.

"My dear girl-"

"Mother, I'm no longer a girl. I am a woman now, nearly seventeen. I want to be treated as one. Grandmother was about to lead a coven when she was seventeen-"

"No, dear, that was your great grandmother and times were much different then." Maya leaned forward and wrapped her arms around Olivia's shoulders. She looked at their reflections. "Olivia, you are becoming a woman and… as much as you might be against it, your future is solidified. It is time to find you a suitable mate-"

Olivia's eyes filled with tears. "No, Mother, No…I don't want a mate. My only interest is casting. I want to be a High Priestess like you one day, but not of the old religion…but for divination. This is my calling, Mommy, I don't want a mate!"

Maya held her tighter. "Oh Olivia, you remind me of myself at your age, my dearest." Maya reached for a cloth and soaked up her tears. "I will never let you go off on your own in this cruel world without the protection of the Orisha. New Orleans is friendly to those of us with dark skin, wide noses, and thick lips. But beyond our village, there are those who think we are accursed. A black witch would pose a greater threat my dear. Most of the women they tortured in Salem in those trials on these very shores were white, but our foremother, Tituba, barely escaped with her life. I cannot have you in danger-"

"But Mother!"

"Stop your whining at once Olivia! You will dry your tears. In life, we cannot have all we desire. I have given you the gift of casting because it is your birthright, but you must keep it inside for yourself. It cannot be a way of life. Dry your eyes my dear, get dressed, and prepare for the Gala. You never know, the one who is to be your mate may be there." Maya kissed Olivia on the cheek and left her there silently weeping.

Maya rushed from Olivia's room and into the one she shared with Rowan. He was away visiting the elders which would make it possible for Maya to have uninterrupted time with Victor. She sensed the need to spend more time with her daughter discussing her future, but her desire for Victor crowded out her reason. There a swift knock on her door and Maya's sister, Sheba burst into the room.

"Maya, you have to stop this! We can't go to that Gala tonight. It wouldn't be right," said Sheba.

Maya spun around. "What are you talking about, Sister? You've been wanting to go to the Founder's Gala all year."

"Yes, that was until I found out that your lover would be in attendance and-"

Maya rushed to her sister. "Lower your voice. Someone could hear you. Where is this coming from?" Maya whispered forcefully.

"I have it on good authority that Victor Grantaspare will be attending the Gala tonight. You had to know I'd find out just like Rowan will when he gets home. Ever since that feud between the Mantrangas and Provezanos it has been hell on earth in New Orleans with the assassination of David Hennessy and the lynching of those Italian men. That's what happens when vampires from rival clans try to coexist in one area. This controversy had grown to a magnitude that those blood suckers can no longer keep their secrets under the table. Victor Grantaspare is coming all the way from Italy to bring peace. That's what I heard. Then I remembered how giddy you've been these last weeks about this ball. This is your chance to reconcile with your demon lover."

"Sheba, I won't talk about this with you or-"

Sheba tensed her body causing the mirrors to shatter in the room. "Maya, you promised Mother, Rowan, me, that you were no longer involved with Grantaspare. You have been lying and using the craft to cover the fact that…that…you are one of them or close to it, haven't you?"

Maya began to weep. "I-I-I'm sorry…Sheba…"

"At least you are not denying it-"

"I don't have the strength to lie anymore. I love Victor. I let him partake of my blood after I gave birth to Olivia. You know how I suffered with melancholia after having her. He promised me it would make me feel better and it did. I cast a spell to prevent my transition and it has held for over 16 years." Maya sat on the bench at the foot of her bed. She became silent. She reached for her sister's hand and pulled her down beside her. "Sheba, I need you to tell you something. I feel a tremendous sense of relief that I can share this with you. I am going back to Italy with Victor. I need you to take care of Olivia for me. She is just as headstrong as I was. She is determined to be a High Priestess of her own coven. She doesn't want to carry on the old religion. She says she doesn't want a mate, but I'm sure that will change when she meets the right one-"

Sheba's face lost all its fury. He expression became stoic and stony. "You can stop now, Sister. I don't need to hear anymore. I don't profess to be without blemish in my own life or to stand in judgment of you, but I must speak my mind. That you are selfish and greedy is of no surprise, but I never imagined that you were completely daft and able to be taken advantage of. Victor has a wife, children…He is one of the Supreme Vampires…and you think he will somehow give that up or perhaps incorporate you into that life as his concubine? You would leave your order, your family, your fate to become some vampiric witch hybrid? All of this is nonsense, but most importantly it is putting this family in peril by linking us to-"

Maya looked beyond her sister at the snow globe on the bureau. With a quick gesticulation of her arms, she cast her sister inside the globe. Maya walked to the bureau and peered into the globe. There she saw her sister sitting as if she were a figurine.

"I'm sorry, dear, Sister. I had to get you before you got me. I felt a spell coming at the end of your monologue. Don't fret. I'll release you after the Gala. Take care of my Olivia."

Maya turned away and began getting ready for the Gala.

"This night smells of opportunity," said Massimo, a wicked smile spread across his lips. "There's a wildness about these American lands that I love." One of his raven curls fell across his forehead.

"The wildness is in the women and not the land, Brother. It's the democracy. Makes one yearn for liberation," said Giovanni. Massimo and Giovanni chuckled in the back of the carriage. Francesca pursed her lips at her brothers, but she continued to stare at Fitzgerald with concern.

"But it is hands off as you have been made well aware, Massimo and Giovanni, there will be no intimate contact between any member of the Grantaspare family and humans. We are here to spread peace between two warring clans…not make trouble for them," said Benito. He was their paternal uncle and part of their entourage.

"You don't have to worry about Fitzgerald whose had a horrible temper for how many centuries?" said Massimo.

"No, Massimo. I think he's tricked us all. He is not angry that Father destroyed his laboratory for the research. I think he was really harboring a harem of beautiful girls and he didn't want to share," said Giovanni who was smiling and revealing his set of dimples.

"You may be right. I remember the days when our brother indulged in his share of fleshly delights more than any of us," said Massimo.

"Massimo, Giovanni, enough," said Francesca.

"Stop this carriage! I need some air," said Fitzgerald. The carriage continued along, but he opened he door and jumped out.

Benito made a motion to go after him, but Francesca stopped him. "I'll go, Uncle and ensure he gets there unscathed. You watch these two brutes," she said before opening the door and following after her brother. She caught up to him coasting just above the trees. She spoke to him mentally since the wind whipping around them made speech impossible.

Brother, are you okay?

Francesca, please rejoin the family. I am fine.

We can rebuild the laboratory when we return to Italy. It pains me to see you so…

Sister, I am about to descend. Flying and communicating like this will drain our strength.

Fitz immediately dropped 20 feet and landed beside the road. Francesca joined him.

"Sister, I appreciate your concern. I am fine," he said as they began walking to the grounds of the Gala.

"Ignore Massimo and Giovanni. They never really knew our brother. Ambrogio is more a myth to them."

"I know, Francesca. I hate it when they celebrate my reckless behavior when I was just trying to make sense of his destruction. But I'm tired of mourning for him. He decided to align himself with the Church, knowing they would not accept him once they found out what he was."

"There is no need to mourn him now. Embrace this immortality that you have and you will get that one thing you lack, Brother."

Fitzgerald stopped walking and Francesca followed suit. "An pray tell what do I lack?"

"Love, Brother, Love. That's what you lack."

"We are vampires, Frannie. That is not possible for us. We can lust and thirst, but not love or be loved. As you very well know, our affection is designed to lure and enchant with one design in mind."

Francesca smiled at his term of endearment. He only used it when he felt she was being immature in a way that needed correcting. "I wasn't referring to the love of humans. It is possible for you to meet a female vampire whom you will love-"

"If I was capable of laughter, that's what I'd be doing now. Love is to be eschewed by those who are wise. But sister, I shall make an appearance at this Gala to spread peace and good will. Then I will make my exit. Please give me regrets to Father. If he asks for me."

"Okay, brother, but promise me that you from hence forth will be open to love if it should come your way."

"I promise Francesca, but such a cheery disposition doesn't look good on a vampire."

"Oh, Cousin, isn't this Gala the best?" said Esther. She guzzled down her third cup of punch.

Olivia looked a her cousin whose face held an expression of contentment and excitement. By contrast Olivia was frustrated and angry. She didn't want to be there flashing cheeky smiles for the haughty women and men in attendance. The lecherous gazes she received from the men angered her even further. She wished the bodice of her gown didn't make such a drastic dip, but her mother had insisted she wear it.

"Esther, why are we even here? The only other blacks in attendance besides our family and a few others are the servants. Not that I care to find a mate, but if I did there are none here. And where is Auntie Sheba?"

"I'm not sure, but I know that our parents will find mates for us. Until then, I wouldn't mind having a beau to take me on moonlit walks through town," said Esther. She stopped scanning the ballroom to glance at Olivia. "Stop sulking, Cousin Olivia. My mother wasn't feeling well so she stayed home which is a blessing because I can talk to whomever I want now. Wow, Olivia, look. Your mom is talking to the gentleman over there with all those people around him. He looks important."

Olivia followed her cousin's line of vision. Her mother was standing beside this very tall peculiar looking man. The contrast between his white skin and black hair was striking. Her mother was staring at him as if he was saying something very important. There were others around him just as tall, but Olivia saw only her mother and the man. This was her opportunity.

Olivia grabbed Esther's hand and pulled her around the corner. "Esther, dear Cousin, I need a favor. I need to leave now. Please tell Mother I went home…because I was…feeling sick…my flow came. Tell her I'm sick because of my flow."

Esther looked like she pitied her cousin. "Oh, how dreadful Olivia. Such bad luck on this night of all nights to get your flow. Now I understand your sour mood. I should get your Mother-"

"No, Esther. I don't really have my flow. It is a pretense. When Mother asks, tell her I went home because I was sick with my flow."

"Oooo. You want me to deliberately deceive Auntie Maya. Where will you really be? And it is going to cost you, Cousin."

Olivia rolled her eyes. "I have a project I'm working on for the Academy that I really need to complete. I'll be working on it tonight. What do you want?"

Esther leaned in closer. "You can't pull the wool over my eyes, Cousin. I know you are casting, and I want you to teach me. My mother refuses to show me anything but those boring rituals of the Orisha."

Olivia glared at Esther. "Yes, Esther. I'll teach you, but not tonight. Do we have an agreement?"

Esther nodded and they said together, "May the Orisha watch between me and thee while we are absent one from another."

Olivia left Esther without a word.

"Did you make much progress on your research, Dr. Grantaspare?"

Fitzgerald turned to face the vampire whose presence he had sensed behind him.

Fitzgerald had escaped from the throngs of people at the Gala to the grand library for a minute alone. He had already decided to leave while staring up at the full moon. The sight of a female in a ball gown running into the forest caught his attention until he felt the presence enter the room behind him.

"And what research is that…Mr…?" Fitzgerald said.

The man of stocky build with dark brown skin laughed for a long time before answering.

"Dr. Grantaspare, don't mistake me for a man of ignorance just because I have black skin. I know you have been working for centuries on a cure for vampirism and that the powers that be in our community want you destroyed because of it. That is why your father destroyed your laboratory and dragged you here. It is in part to quell the war between the Mantrangas and Provezanos, but it is also to show that you don't hate your own kind. He can't have the son of a Supreme hating vampirism. But I am here to offer you the opportunity to continue your research…here on these shores of course."

Fitzgerald sauntered toward the man to get a closer look at him. He smelled calm and nonthreatening. "You have failed to identify yourself…Mr…?"

"My apologies due in part to my excitement that I was able to find you alone. Dr. Toussaint, but you can call me Bannaky. As you can sense, I am one of your kind. Unfortunately, the burden I carry as a black vampire still makes me somewhat of a second class citizen even though I have immortality, but that is a discussion for another time. I've talked too much already. What do you think?"

"Dr. Toussaint, I must say. I don't know how to respond."

"Then don't…respond. Here is my card. Mull it over. At least meet me again to discuss more of the details. It was nice to have met you, Dr. Grantaspare." Bannaky extended his hand and Fitzgerald grabbed it. They shook and he was gone.

Fitzgerald returned to the window, remembering the woman he saw running into the woods. He hastily swiped his brow with felt hot to the touch. He was sweating. The familiar pangs of thirst began to command his attention.

Brother, where are you?

He heard Francesca's voice through the blur of thirst.

In the library.

She was there in an instant. "Fitzgerald, here, have a seat. You're sweating. You're very warm." She looked into his eyes once he was sitting. Her sharp intake of breath signaled alarm. "Fitzgerald, your pupils are dilated fully. You have all the signs of extreme thirst, but you shouldn't. We were all sated enough to last until we returned home."

"I-I don't know," he said. He felt his fangs lengthening.

"How long have you been feeling this way?" Francesca asked. She pulled up back his lips to see his fangs appearing.

"It started when we got to New Orleans, but has become more pronounced since we arrived at this Gala, Francesca. I have to-"

"No, Fitzgerald you can't go off by yourself until we figure out what's causing this. You are not rational right now."

"Let me go Francesca."

Francesca was torn between concern for her brother and joy at the thought that his mate was somewhere in the vicinity. She moved back. Fitzgerald rushed to the window and raised it. He looked back at his sister. "Don't come after me. I have the beacon. You'll know where I am if I'm not back soon. Please don't tell Father about this."

And then he was gone.

Olivia was close to giving up. Her casting practice was not going well. Even though she had all the elements mixed precisely and performed the incantation flawlessly, there was barely a flicker of a spark.

She stomped her foot and cursed at the full moon. "Be damned!" She wiped her hands on her ball gown that was stained with dirt that matched her face mottled with mud from the puddle she'd fallen in on her way to this spot. Her hair was a shock of frizzy pin curls.

But to Fitzgerald this strange peculiar girl whom he had been watching for over an hour held him transfixed. He had tracked her scent to a clearing deep in the forest. The closer he got to her the more intense his thirst became. Every part of him was screaming for her. He wanted her. He hesitated when he saw her gesticulating hands and heard her chanting over a pile of branches. His thirst subsided and was replaced by total fascination. She must have performed her ritual dozens of times. Now her machinations were becoming comical.

"Edgar, what am I doing wrong?" she said. He could not see whom she was addressing. Fitzgerald scowled until he saw a large, black furry spider perched on a branch. She held our her hand and it landed on her outstretched palm and scurried to her shoulder. She flopped on the ground and leaned against a tree. "It shouldn't be this difficult to throw fire, Mr. Poe. Why does it look so easy when Mother does it? I'm tired, dirty, and stinky. I should probably give up." When she leaned her head to what looked like a baby meglamorph, his eyes widened as he waited for it to bite her.

"Mr. Poe, I guess you are right. I should try again. If you can spin a web, I should be able to throw a flame." Olivia held out her hand. The spider jumped from her shoulder to her hand. She placed him back on the branch.

"Mr. Edgar Allan Poe, I will try again."

"Wait, Fitzgerald, no, no, no….I had a giant pet tarantula? That settles it. Something is wrong because I hhhhaaaaaate spiders across all time, past lives, future lives." Olivia jumped from the sofa and shook her whole body.

She felt him watching her in that way of his that made her feel naked and exposed. She returned to her side of the sofa. "Sorry."

He smiled at her. "Quite alright, darling. As I was saying..."

Olivia repeated her incantation while moving her body around the pile of twigs. At the appointed time, she rolled her wrists and flicked her hands. A fireball of yellow and red flames soared from her hands and consumed the pile of twigs.

"Ah! I did it! Edgar! I did it." Olivia celebrated by throwing her hands over head in victory. Unfortunately, flames were released into the trees. Each time she flung her arms, flames shot out and consumed whatever stood in its path.

Fitzgerald ducked to miss a ball of fire headed for his head. Olivia was screaming frantically as the flames licked around her feet. Fitzgerald flew up high above the fiery fray. He circled in search of a way in. He dove for her and scooped her up in his arms. By the time he had flown them far from the perimeter of the flames, he could see people running from the Gala and surround buildings to see the flames.

Olivia opened her eyes and what she saw made her scream. The abnormally large coal black eyes stared at her. A cold hand covered her mouth.

"Please don't scream. I'm not going to harm you."

Her eyes darted in all directions. She was cradled in the arms of this strange man who reminded her of a younger version of the man her mother was speaking with at the Gala. It was cold and dark, but it felt like morning.

The Gala. What happened with my casting? Is it morning?

Olivia's thoughts were choppy.

The Gala was last night. Your casting was…successful. Yes.

Olivia frowned at him. Unclear why she could a voice answering her thoughts.

Olivia began to shake with fear. "What is your name? I promise you are safe. I will not harm you."

"O-Olivia."

"Olivia, it is a pleasure to meet you…officially. I am Fitzgerald. Last evening, you set fire to a portion of the woods when you were…casting. Is that what it is called? Are you a witch?"

That question angered Olivia. She sat up in his arms and that's when she felt the pain of the burns on her arms. "Ouch! I'm not quite a witch. But I did cast the flames that seemed to have burned my arms. I have to get…home. Thank you…but wait…I remember now. I remember what you did last night. You flew down and saved me! How did you do that? Are you a wizard…or a sorcerer?"

"I just came out and asked you like that? I wasn't afraid of you with those black eyes?" Olivia said. During the story, she had made her way to his end of the sofa and was now perched on his lap.

"Yes. I think I fell in love with you that night-my intense blood thirst and sexual desire notwithstanding-you were fearless, Olivia, and determined to cast those flames. I could have watched you try all night. It was simply fascinating." He caressed her hair. She blinked and sighed not wanting to move from this spot.

"What happened next? Is that when you bit me?" she asked eagerly.

"No. Even though your blood would have helped me tremendously. I was weak and crazy with hunger, but I couldn't do it. I wanted to heal your burns and I needed full strength. I used the beacon to call Francesca and she-"

"Beacon?"

"The device you took from my jacket with all the dazzling colors. You inadvertently answered Francesca's call. That is how she knew where to find us earlier."

"Oh…It's obvious she doesn't like me…"

"No, it's more that she hates the situation we are in. She blames you, but you are my life, Olivia…"

She hugged him. The love that filled her heart was beginning to feel familiar. She pulled back. "So Francesca came and-"

"Francesca came bearing two large elk. My thirst was sated. I healed your burns and Francesca and I took you home."

"What happened to my spider, Mr. Edgar Allan Poe?" She asked with another shiver.

"We did return to retrieve him from the burned out patch of woods."

"How did I take the news that you were a vampire?" she asked leaning against him.

"You were excited and made me promise to help you with your casting."

"But how was that possible? You were only in America for the Gala right? And how old were you when we met? I was almost 17, you say? When did I become a vampire? When did we first make love? When did my mom cast the spell? How?..."

"Darling, please accept that you won't get the answer to centuries worth of questions tonight. We will have to leave this apartment soon."

"I'm sorry," she said. She made a move to go back to her side of the sofa, but he wouldn't let her.

"There is no need for apologies. You have a right to know it all, just not all at once." He kissed her lips gently. She leaned in him to deepen the kiss. He pulled back first, but she spoke. "I can't imagine forgetting you."

"Not knowing was its own sort of gift, darling. I never forgot and that pain has been indescribable, but this is the end of that…"

"I am sorry for your pain, Fitzgerald."

"I am thankful that you could forget me to spare your pain."

They held each other for a moment.

"As for the age question, Olivia, when we met, yes, you were 16. I appeared as a man of twenty-five or thirty. I never really kept up with it. In actual years…I hope this does not frighten you, but I was born as a human in eighty-nine."

Olivia frowned. "Seventeen eight-nine? Sixteen? Fifteen?"

"Six hundred and eighty nine after the death of the carpenter-"

"You were born in six hundred eighty nine A.D. after Jesus…wow? That is some major cradle robbing."

"Well, that is immortality. Getting back to the story-"

"No, wait, Fitzgerald…I don't discount the depth of our love, but you'll never convince me that I am the only woman you've loved in over thirteen hundred years."

"Darling, we are straying too wildly from the story."

"Okay, but we will have that discussion one day."

"That sounds reasonable. After that first night, we became…friends. My family and I were in New Orleans for about two weeks of which I saw you every day to help you with your casting. After I returned home to Florence, I gathered my research, accepted Dr. Toussaint's offer, and moved to New Orleans. I convinced my father I was moving to help him keep an eye on the Mantrangas and Provezanos. Francesca was the only one in my family who knew the truth. She visited often and you two became friends. You kept me a secret from your family because I was helping you practice your casting. Everything was going well until about the seventh month. The simple reason is that being friends became untenable. We both loved and desired each other and it only grew more in those months. I managed my thirst pretty well. But you being young and tempestuous decided to take matters in your own hands. Instead of telling me how you felt, you gave me a love potion. I didn't take it of course. It wouldn't have worked-probably burned my flesh-but I let you think I did. That was when we had our first kiss. We came really close to consummating. You asked to bite you...make you a vampire...but refused. I was trying to find a cure then not to infect someone else. You mistook my denial for rejection and... you disappeared."

"I sounded very unstable, Fitzgerald."

"No, you were young and in love."

"Olivia! Olivia! Please stop running! You will hurt yourself," Fitzgerald said. He scanned the mass of trees and saw her run from behind a rock and down the path. He zipped after her but was thrown back by the line of fire she threw at him.

Fitz righted himself and flew over her. He spoke to her mind.

Darling, please stop before you hurt yourself.

Dr. Grantaspare, stop following me before I hurt you! You don't want me and I don't want you. Leave. Me. Alone.

You don't mean that. You're hurt because you think I rejected you.

Olivia stopped unexpectedly and extended her arm up to where he was in the sky flying above her. She had a clean shot at him. The line of fire caught him unawares. He slammed into a tree and fell to the ground a couple of feet in front of her.

Olivia scowled and ran past his body. She looked back and he still was there still not moving. She stopped and ran back to him to make sure he was okay.

He looked like a statue. "Fitzgerald, get up. I know you are pretending." She dropped to her knees beside him. With her hand, she carressed his face. "Fitz?"

His eyes flew open. "No has ever addressed me in that way."

Before she could respond, they were airborne and he was kissing her. She held on to him because nothing else was stable. Between the kissing and the flying, Olivia was becoming dizzy. In the next moment, she felt solid ground below her and his body above her. His lips were on her neck, molding into her flesh. She opened her eyes and saw tall grass on all sides of them. He turned her head so their eyes met. "You want me to take your virginity and your humanity at the same time," he practically growled at her. "There's no going back if you consent."

Olivia flinched. There was a wild carnality in his eyes that she had never see before. It frightened her and aroused her at the same time. "You can't take what I am giving to you." The cloth of her pantalets ripped at the seam when he pulled at them. He rained kisses down her chest and torso stopping only to inhale her scent in a way he hadn't allowed himself in the last 7 months. The pleasure of her aroma blinded him. He bit her first on the inside of her thigh in the juncture between her leg and pelvis. She arched her back and dug her heel into the earth. The pain of the bite was overcome by waves of pleasure. He moved over her, settling between her thighs. She heard the echo of her own cry as he simultaneously sank his fangs into her neck and filled her core with his manhood.

"Fitzgerald?"

"Yes, darling."

"You should probably skip over the graphic parts…"

Olivia leaned forward to kiss him but stopped within inches of his lips. "I think I want you to bite me down there again."

Something flickered in his eyes which she knew meant, 'yes.'

Three swift knocks at the door filled her with anger. They were both at the door at the same time. Fitzgerald looked through the peep hole.

"Who is it?"

"It's your friend, Stacia, from the museum."

"What? I told her not to come. I'm sorry. I called her."

"Olivia, you should go to the bedroom. She shouldn't see you. I'll take care of this, and then we must leave."

"Okay," Olivia kissed him on the cheek and disappeared behind the door of the bedroom.

"My dear, Olivia, you are a sight for sore eyes. I know you don't know me, but I am Maya, your mother. Whatever that monster has told you is a lie. You must come with me at once. Byron is downstairs waiting for us."

Olivia turned around. She was frozen with shock. In this life as in every life since her first one, she had been orphaned or adopted. Seeing her mother disarmed her, giving Maya the upper hand. She didn't have to use her powers because Olivia fainted. Maya scooped her up and absconded with her out of the window.

This story is turning out to be more than I was trying to make it. :-| Once I start writing, it won't let me go...so I had to stop it here for now. As always, thanks to those who send a note. You are my fuel. More to come...