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Rated M for language, sexuality, graphic violence.

"from Morn To Noon he fell, from Noon to dewy Eve, A Summers day; and with the setting Sun Dropt from the Zenith like a falling Star."

- John Milton, "Paradise Lost," bk. I, l. 742-745

Chapter 1 – With the Setting Sun

JPOV

I lay naked and spent in Maria's tent, a tangle of legs and arms surrounding me, entangling me, a cage of flesh and stone. I was tired. Tired of feeling, of fighting, of passion. Of hate. And love, if you could call this love. No, I would not call this love.

I closed my eyes pretending to sleep, wishing I was not pretending. I would love to sink into oblivion and lose myself in nothingness. Let the world fade from my thoughts and retreat into stillness. How ironic that I, who dreamed of war as a boy, who had done little but fight for over two decades, was now resting on the outskirts of a battlefield after celebrating victory, longing for peace. Longing for quiet. Longing for solitude.

Distant memories fluttered on the edges of my consciousness. A covered porch on a summer day, magnolia blossoms out a window, a gentle hand running through my curls, a soft smile, kind eyes. Maybe I was dreaming. I tried to hold onto the images, but they drifted away like smoke through grasping fingers.

As much as I tried, I could not block out the world around me. I could hear the soldiers' revelry, feel their euphoria. I could smell the sickly sweet scent of the fires as they transformed the last of our enemies into piles of ash; I could taste death on my tongue.

My eyes slowly opened and I pushed my yearnings aside. Tranquility was not likely in the midst of war. I turned my head to face the companion to my left. Soft lips leaned into mine and a tongue languidly caressed my own. Long limbs twisted around my calves and I felt strong arms pulling me closer into the hard planes of his chest. "Where did you go, Jasper?" Peter whispered.

"I'm right here," I answered softly, shifting so that he was on his back and I was covering his body with my own. I dipped my face down to kiss him again, slowly and sensuously, our tongues sliding against each other and our breaths mingling. My hands reached out to cup his face, stroking his jaw and tilting his head back so that I could kiss him more deeply. I felt his quiet moan against my lips.

As my mouth trailed over his skin, down his neck, licking and biting, I heard the rustling of movement as Maria untangled herself from us. I looked up to see her sitting beside us, leaning back on one arm, her knees bent and her legs open, her other hand moving over her breast, gently squeezing her nipple between her middle and ring finger before continuing down her body, over her stomach and between her legs. Her dark hair was wild around her shoulders and her eyes darkened as she took in our naked forms. I felt the waves of lust pouring off her and thrust my hips against Peter below me, feeling the hardness of his cock pressed against mine.

He moaned again, hips bucking upwards, his hands wrapping around my waist and sliding up to my shoulders, pulling me closer. Another wave of lust ran through me, the atmosphere in the tent charged. Peter brought his legs to either side of mine and bent them at the knees so that I settled between them, my hard length sliding between his cheeks. His hands smoothed down my back, over my hips, across my buttocks, down to my thighs. He slowly slid them back up to the curve of my ass, fingers digging into my skin as he again lifted his hips towards me. "Take me," he commanded in a voice ragged with need.

I caught his groan with my lips as I slowly slid into him. Beside me, I heard Maria's murmurs of approval as she watched us intently, continuing to stroke herself. As I pulled out, then slowly pushed back into him, I saw Maria mirroring my actions with her fingers. Peter's head was back with his eyes closed, lost in the sensations of our bodies joined together. When Maria saw my eyes trained on her, she smiled a bit and brought her hand from out between her legs and took her fingers in her mouth, cheeks hollowing as she sucked on them. Then she rose to her knees and leaned towards us, bringing her fingers to my lips.

I wrapped my tongue around them tasting her essence and was nearly overcome by the powerful feelings radiating from her. I released her fingers and lowered my head to gently scrape Peter's neck with my teeth as his chest arched upward with my thrusts. His breathing was heavy, his cock rock hard between our stomachs. His hands had moved from my body to his sides and now clenched the blanket below us.

I pushed everything from my mind but the feelings pulsing through me – Peter's pleasure, Maria's desire, my own ecstasy. I lifted my head from Peter's neck to watch Maria again. She had returned to her previous position, legs open, fingers buried deep between her thighs, her thumb rubbing over her clitoris. Her mouth was slightly open and her tongue peeked out to moisten her lips. Her eyes never left mine.

I took the emotions with which I was being bombarded and reflected them back out in a forceful surge. Maria's head dropped back with a cry and her chest heaved as Peter thrashed below me, grunting with need. The feelings were returned to me ten fold and I was lost in the sensations, the feel of Peter wrapped tightly around my hard length, the lingering taste of Maria on my tongue, the sounds of Peter writhing below me and the sight of Maria pleasuring herself.

Nothing existed save flesh upon flesh, the tension building within me, the storm of passions buffeting us. I quickened my pace and felt Peter's legs wrap around my waist, his heels driving my body harder into his. I pounded into him, relishing the feel of my cock encased in his satiny grip.

Maria's cries were coming faster and I could feel Peter tensing below me. He cried out as I felt his cock pulsing between us, his release coating our stomachs. As his muscles tightened around me, I could feel my own release approaching. I thrust three more times, deep and hard, stiffening as my own orgasm overtook me. I shouted out in pleasure, vaguely registering Maria's own keening cries, as I came deep in Peter's embrace.

After a moment, I rolled off of Peter and onto my back, closing my eyes. I felt Maria crawl over and settle next to me on the other side, her head against my shoulder. My fingers reached up to loosely run through her hair. They tangled in her dark tresses like an unsuspecting insect caught in a spider's web. She hummed in satisfaction. "My beautiful boys," she crooned softly. We lay that way for several moments, enjoying the lingering feelings of gratification that still resonated in the tent. I knew they would be over all too soon.

Peter finally stirred. "We should go check on the soldiers," he said, rising and pulling on his pants.

I nodded in assent, leaning to kiss Maria on the top of her head before grasping the hand Peter reached out to help pull me to my feet. When I was standing, I brought my hand to the back of his neck, pulling his face towards me for one last hard kiss. He smiled softly at me before exiting the tent.

"I'll be out in a few," I called to his retreating back.

With every second that passed, the world was intruding on our pleasurable oasis. The smells and sounds of battle began infiltrating the cracks of the private fortress we had erected in this tent. It was always that way. I could lose myself in the passion we shared, but only fleetingly; it never lasted long. And it was never enough.

I stood at the doorway of the tent looking out at the camp. The fires scattered across the ground illuminated the dark oppressive smoke rising into the night sky. Occasional screams pierced the air as one of our enemies, unfortunate enough to be captured by soldiers in a playful mood, suffered a slow death rather than a quick merciful dispatch. Neither Peter nor I discouraged or tried to prevent such acts, although we both found them distasteful. It was difficult enough with these newborn soldiers to keep them from killing each other.

I wondered, not for the first time, if this might be hell. The never-ending fighting, the constant death, the unsettling screams, the acrid smells, the scorching heat, the burning fires. My heart no longer beat; I was near indestructible. A soulless demon of the night, lethal and terrifying. Was this reality to be my eternal torment – endless days of war?

Maria's small arms reached out to encircle my waist. She leaned her head against my side. "Jasper?" she asked. "What troubles you?"

"Nothing, love," I answered, although I knew she didn't believe me. Whereas before in times like these after a successful campaign I had felt pride emanating from her, I now felt concern and… distrust? It was so faint that I at first thought I imagined it, but I knew instead that Maria had just become more adept at controlling her emotions around me. After decades we knew each other well.

"I know this is hard on you," she conceded. "But it has to be this way. Once Benito set things in motion, there was no other choice. It's kill or be killed. You know this."

"I know, Maria." I sighed, still staring out into the night. "I'm just… tired."

"We'll have time to rest soon, my darling. We all but destroyed Leandro's forces this time. They weren't nearly as organized as we've seen in the past and it will be months before he'll be able to regroup. As long as Ramon doesn't move from the west, Peter should be able to handle things for a while."

"You'll feel better after you hunt," she added.

I nodded, giving her a small squeeze before turning to look for my clothes. I got dressed then set out into the night, looking for Peter.

It was true that Leandro had not been very organized this fight. He must be getting desperate. We were one of the most formidable covens in the south. Newborns were so unpredictable and hard to control, but with my ability to influence emotions combined with Peter's natural strategic and leadership skills, we were able to form a cohesive fighting unit. When not fighting, our days were spent training the soldiers and keeping them from destroying each other. It was like dealing with children, all volatile emotions, distractibility and complete lack of impulse control – children, that is, with an uncontrollable blood thirst and unparalleled strength and speed.

I walked slowly through the camp, examining the fires and scanning the ground for any remaining evidence of our enemies. I spotted Peter talking to a small group of soldiers, a female with soft brown curls, a taller male with cropped black hair and a short stocky male. He squeezed the taller male's shoulders, nodding his head in approval. I reinforced the feeling and sent a shot of pride and appreciation towards them, letting them know how well we were pleased.

To the left I heard some growling and scuffling and went to investigate. Two newborns were locked in struggle, a jangle of emotions emanating from them. I blanketed them with calm and pulled the snarling combatants apart. They glared at one another until I sent them in different directions, giving them mundane tasks to accomplish and effectively redirecting them from their grudge. I didn't know why they were fighting, nor did I care. These petty altercations were common among the newborns and were often about nothing at all – a perceived slight, a wrong look. That we were able to diffuse them with both the help of my abilities and Peter's considerable diplomacy skills was one of the reasons our forces remained strong while others' floundered.

Peter had finished making the rounds and walked over to join me. "We only lost two," he informed me. "Maria will be pleased."

"Mmm," I vocalized in acknowledgment.

He stared at me for a moment, noting my reticence. I knew he could sense my returning melancholy. "Jasper?" he stated questioningly.

"It's nothing, Peter." I told him, although as with Maria before, I could tell he knew I was lying.

I sighed. "I just need to get away from here for a little bit. Sometimes it's… too much."

He nodded, as if he understood what I meant. I wasn't even sure what I meant.

"I'm going to track Leandro for a bit," I decided. "Make sure he's really retreated and can't cause any further threat."

In reality, I knew Leandro was not an immediate threat; I really did need to get away. Away from the smoke, away from the carnage, the fighting, the heated emotions, the roiling passions. These conflicts drained me.

"Alright, Jasper. I expect we'll be starting our way back to Monterrey once we break camp." He looked at me intently, studying my face. I wondered what he saw there. After a long pause he asked hesitatingly, as if he were afraid of the answer, "You will be back, won't you?"

My eyes roamed over his face, taking in his delicate features, the wide eyes, the refined nose, the full lips with their slight curve upwards at the corners, making him look as if he were always smiling. I reached out my hand and cupped his face, running my thumb across his cheek then down across his lower lip, his beautiful lower lip.

"Yes, I will be back," I stated firmly, staring directly into his eyes.

He nodded, seemingly assured.

"After all," I added softly to myself as I turned and walked away, "Where else would I go?"

#####

I ran. I had no direction in mind. I initially followed Leandro's trail, but I wasn't really interested in his whereabouts. We had decimated his army. Maria was right; it would be months before he could create a force large enough to be any sort of threat again. If I paused to stop and think about it, I suppose I would have recognized that I was simply running away. But I didn't stop to think. I just ran.

I hadn't even stopped to tell Maria I was leaving. I left that to Peter to explain. I didn't want to face her, didn't want to feel her calculating appraisal, her dissatisfaction, that niggling trace of distrust.

I didn't want to feel anything.

I knew she would be annoyed at my absence. While Peter was remarkable at handling the newborns, he couldn't control them all on his own. Maria would be forced to interact with them on the journey home. She preferred to have as little to do with them as possible outside of rewarding them for a job well done. They were a means to an end. Nothing more. Expendable and disposable.

I ran for days, taking shelter when the sun rose and venturing back out at dusk. If a traveler was unfortunate enough to cross my path, I fed on him. I was a true creature of the night, stealthy and deadly, a silent executioner. Eventually, I found myself on a familiar road. My pace slowed and I came to a halt. I was perhaps a mile outside of Galveston. I realized I was standing at the place I had first encountered Maria.

She had been so beautiful, so terrifying in her otherworldliness, yet I had been too foolish, too constrained by manners to give my fear the respect it deserved. Instead I was captivated by her smile, her apple red lips eternally damning me with one kiss.

I endured the fiery conversion, my humanity expunged in a blazing inferno.

I awoke to endless night.

Maria's face was the first thing I saw, her pale skin glowing in the moonlight, like a luminescent pearl against a backdrop of black velvet. She was so resplendent I thought she must be an angel. She gave me a soft smile and held out her hand to me. "Come," she said. "You must be thirsty," her voice so mellifluous that I was lost in its dulcet tones, the words curling over my body like satin ribbons. At first I did not even recognizing the melodious sound as speech. Again she beckoned with her hand, entreating me to take it.

"Come."

I reached out my hand and placed it in her outstretched palm. Her fingers closed around it. "Good boy," she said, as she smiled. I could feel her pleasure at my action and I felt pride in her approval.

"Run with me," she enjoined.

I followed without question, still dazed and confused and somewhat stunned by the sights and sounds before me. The moon shone overhead, but it was as if it were the sun, only like no sun I had ever known. The world was completely illuminated by its silvery glow. I could see each separate leaf on a tree far in the distance. I watched the individual dark strands of my angel's hair dancing in the wind as the air rushed by, propelled as if by a hurricane, but it was only our inhuman speed which caused the breeze. I could hear insects and the tiny movements of rodents as they made their nightly rounds. And the smells… so enticing and pungent and delicious. The world itself was familiar, but absolutely everything about it was different, more textured and complex and brilliant.

We were nearing a campsite when I caught a whiff of a powerfully heady scent, its aroma so compulsory, I couldn't have stayed away if I tried. We slowed to a walk as we approached and a man rose from his place of rest by the fire.

"Go on," my angel directed. "You must drink. It will soothe the ache."

With that I noticed the burning in my throat, an almost unbearable pain that clamored to be assuaged. How I had not been aware of it before this moment seemed impossible, the torment was so insistent.

The man turned to me to speak. I noticed he was dressed similarly to myself.

"Major," he addressed me, "Do you travel on foot? May I be of assistance to you and your companion?"

I didn't answer. I was mesmerized by the pulsing in his throat, his beating heart accelerating as he began to sense our strangeness. His scent drew me closer. His fear washed over me in a wave as I gripped his arms, hearing the bones crack beneath my fingers. His scream of terror rang out into the night as my teeth sunk deeply into his neck.

I was awash in horror and in joy. His blood spilled down my throat, a feast of heavenly ambrosia, a divine palliative to the burning flames. The soldier, for I now recognized him as such, twitched as the life drained from him, his tumultuous emotions buffeting me: fear, betrayal, anger, grief, hopelessness, pain, longing, terror. I wanted to tear myself away from his agony, yet I couldn't bear to part from the glorious nectar and the exquisite pleasure it brought me.

When not a drop of blood remained, I released his still form and it crumpled to the ground. I was overwhelmed by confusion, by the swirling onslaught of emotions, the pleasure and pain intermixed until I couldn't tell one from the other. Had I just killed a fellow Confederate soldier, my brother in arms? Was this really my body that was aroused and thrumming from the feel of his throat beneath my mouth, the taste of his blood on my lips?

What kind of monster was I?

My angel seemed to understand my bewilderment. She wrapped her arms around me and pulled my face down to hers. "It's all right, sweet boy," she whispered. "Well done. Now let's get you cleaned up." Her tongue peeked out from between her lips and traced the line of my jaw, down my throat, across my chin, licking away traces of blood from the fallen soldier. Her lips met mine and when her tongue entered my mouth, I could still taste his delicious flavor. I groaned in pleasure. Pain and confusion faded away and I was flooded with desire.

"Nettie, Lucy, come help Major Whitlock with his clothes," Maria said and I looked up to see the two blonde companions I had first encountered with her on the road to Galveston. I hadn't even noticed them arrive. My shirt was slipped from my shoulders by one of the girls. The other tugged me to the ground and reached for my feet so she could pull off my boots. As each foot was freed, she brought it to her mouth and kissed its top. I felt hands at my waistband and then my pants were being pulled past my hips, down my legs and around my ankles. Soon I lay naked on ground.

"Lovely," Nettie crooned, as her fingers trailed across my chest.

"Mmmm, yes, lovely," Lucy uttered in agreement.

Their hands roamed across my body, down my thighs and legs, over my shoulders, my chest, my belly, my arms, my hips, the touch of their silken fingers sending jolts of pleasure through me. Their lips and tongues followed their hands, moist mouths kissing and licking and caressing every inch of my skin. Maria was leaning over me, her mouth never leaving mine, her tongue sliding against my own in kisses slow and deep. Her one hand was buried in the curls at my neck, softly stroking my skin. Her other had found its way to my chest, her fingers teasing my nipples.

I was incoherent and overcome with sensation. The feelings were unlike anything I had ever known, the level of pleasure almost unbearable. Every nerve ending responded to their sensuous ministrations until I felt like my skin was burning with an icy fire.

Then I felt a mouth enclose my rigid shaft in a wet embrace and my entire body lifted off the ground. I cried out into Maria's mouth, overwhelmed by the ecstasy pulsing through me.

"Do you feel that?" one of the girls asked, her voice thick with lust and tinged with wonder.

"Oh, yes," the other panted. "Yes, I feel everything."

"Everything."

Her mouth was back around me and her hand stroked my sack as her tongue swirled around the head of my cock. Someone lifted my hand and I felt another tongue wrapped around my fingers as they were sucked into a waiting mouth.

I was writhing on the ground, unable to control my movements. My mouth emitted wanton moans and other unintelligible sounds. Maria's lips moved from my mouth to behind my ear and down my neck, licking and sucking until she reached my chest. She traced her tongue around my nipple then took it into her mouth, scraping her teeth lightly against my hardening flesh.

The sensations were too much. Desperate whimpers left my throat as hands and mouths and tongues pleasured me with rhythmic strokes. Maria returned to my lips and as her tongue plunged into my open mouth, my body tensed and I released in a surge of rapture.

I don't know what good it did to remember that day. I had no idea what led me here. I was now agitated thinking about the soldier I had first killed. I had drank from hundreds of men since that time, experienced all of their fear and pain, but remembering the sound his bones breaking beneath my hands, his terrified screams, his accusing betrayal filled eyes disturbed me. It made me uneasy.

Maria wasn't here to distract me from my thoughts this time. Nor were Nettie and Lucy; they had long since been destroyed by Maria when their ambition became a little too apparent for Maria's comfort.

I had struggled with my actions, unable to fathom how I could have so easily taken the life of a fellow soldier, one of the men I had sworn to protect and lead. When I thought of the taste of his blood, my head spun in remembered bliss, but I still believed I should have been strong enough to control my urges. I was a military man, disciplined and regimented.

Maria had been so patient with me, leading me to an understanding of my new life. She gave me purpose, helped me hone my special abilities. I had a new army to lead and a new cause to fight for. Maria's desire for revenge was strong and her single minded drive to fulfill her mission was inspiring. Soon I was her willing officer, helping to build her forces and command her troops. Her mission became my mission.

Somewhere along the way, however, her mission had changed, mutating from its original intent of reclaiming her coven's territory, taking back her homelands, to expanding her holdings far and wide. As the strength of our army grew, so did her greed. I was no longer sure what I fought for.

We already controlled much of the south, from Mexico to most of Texas. We were able to feed unimpeded. As long as we maintained our forces, our enemies posed little threat. Yet Maria's ambition seemed intent on pushing the boundaries of our territory even further. I knew in my gut that she'd always want more.

The officer in me resisted this open ended campaign we conducted. I preferred specific objectives with defined military goals. If we had no end game in sight, no real picture of what a victory would entail, we were destined to wage an unending war.

I began to grow frustrated with myself. I had run to get away from the fighting for just a little while, and all I was doing was thinking about it. Thinking about killing – I couldn't get the soldier's expression out of my head, his harsh accusing eyes… thinking about Maria, her conviction that there was no alternative to the way we lived… the way we existed. Thinking about the unending years stretched before me, always fighting, always at war.

The never ending years.

My feet took off again before I realized it, as if trying to outpace the speed of my thoughts. I tried to empty my mind and concentrate on the wind against my face, the sounds of the night, the rhythmic pulsing of my pounding legs. I was no longer a soldier, jaded and battle weary. I was a specter of the night, a child's nightmare existing on the edge of nothingness. If I could empty my mind, it would almost be as if I didn't exist at all.

I don't know how long I ran – when you are nothing, time ceases to exits, but I once again found myself stopping at a familiar place. I was in Houston, at the edge of town. I stood in front of a modest farmhouse.

The long front porch sagged a little in the middle where the wide stairs led to the front door. The wood was rotted in places and it had that weathered, beaten look. To the left of the house stood a tall magnolia tree, its trunk sturdy and proud, its limbs reaching up to embrace the night sky. It was taller than I remembered.

I walked over to the tree and placed my hand against the trunk, feeling the roughness against my skin. I reached out and touched one of the broad leaves, enjoying the sensations of the smooth waxy surface on the one side and velvet softness on the other. Creamy blossoms hung ponderously from the branches like corsages on a debutante's wrist. Their perfumed scent stirred something in me, faint memories from another lifetime.

If I closed my eyes I could hear laughter through the kitchen window, a soft voice, gentle and kind. I could see a boy sprawled on his back, his head resting on an aproned lap, legs bent and a lazy smile decorating his dimpled face. I could almost feel the fingers running through my curls, massaging soft circles on my temples, nails gently scraping my scalp.

A pang of longing pierced my chest and I was overtaken with such a feeling of loneliness that my knees nearly buckled from under me.

My fingers dug into the wood of the tree and I shook the trunk with an angry roar. White petals rained down around me, snowy teardrops blanketing the earth. I grabbed a branch between my hands and lay my forehead down against it, wishing vainly for the release of tears.

My fingers clenched and I felt the branch splinter beneath them with a loud crack. I saw once again the eyes of the angry soldier, the hurt betrayal, the accusatory stare, his bones snapping as I gripped his limbs in my deadly embrace.

And once again I ran.

A/N: Thank you to everyone who reviewed or put this story on alerts! I really appreciate it! Special thanks to my lovely beta, OnTheTurningAway. Check out her story First, written for the Devirginizing Edward contest here: http://www(dot)fanfiction(dot)net/s/5686364/1/First