All throughout the night, Eric and I exchanged glances, a permanent smirk set on both our faces. I found myself after a while with my eyes glued to his perfect body, studying every inch of him like he were a work of art. My lip caught between my teeth and the skin broke, releasing a small, but steady, stream of blood. I sighed at the sudden pain, and sucked my lip between my teeth, swallowing my own blood. Eric's head snapped around; he must have smelled the blood. His eyes returned to the crowd, and mine resumed ogling the Viking vampire.
Was I really forming an attraction for him, or admiring his…beauty? From the first night, there was no doubt that Eric was indeed incredibly handsome, and even then he was able to spark some arousal within me, stirring up my insides with something I had not felt in years. Many, many years. And I loved it. I loved the way being around him put me on edge, had me uncomfortable and unable to speak. The way his words and comments with those damned flirtatious undertones caught me off guard and had me stammering, searching for what to say next.
No one has ever had that effect on me. I was always sarcastic, an insult, an innuendo, and extremely vulgar words were something that never ceased to leave my mouth. But with him…I found myself with my breath caught in my throat, unable to retort as quickly as I normally could. Maybe I honored the bond between Hound and Keeper too much. Or maybe I was beginning to feel something for him. Unlikely, as I had long given up on trying to love, or feel anything really, for anyone. I couldn't possibly feel something for another. Especially my Keeper. I peeked over at him.
"You're staring. What?" I asked.
"They're glowing. Your eyes," He said, almost in wonder. "Why?"
"Heightened emotions," I answered vaguely.
And those were the last words spoken between us until the club emptied out and Eric dismissed Pam for the night. He ushered me down the hall, his hand resting on my lower back, and into the bedroom, locking the door behind us. Briefly, I wondered why we were in his bedroom and not returning to my own home, but at this point, I could not care less.
I looked around the room. It was different than the last time I was here. Unkempt. Like a tornado had blown through and destroyed the windowless bedroom. When Riggs had attacked Eric, his bedroom still looked clean, but now, it was a total mess. Sheets no longer on the bed, but on the floor. The clothes in his closet were strewn about, along with the items that used to sit on top of his dresser. Tempted I was to ask what happened, but the scene before me only brought back memories of the night I was taken from Alistair.
I sat in the candle light, awaiting his arrival. Alistair had a very busy night at the club, as he was entertaining a large group of businessmen. His job was to play the piano as best as he goddamn could, and ensure that these men would have the time of their lives, and leave a very, very hefty tip. This was a big break for the small night club, Alistair told me. Never before had they seen such wealthy men, especially not in this part of Louisiana. It was a small town, one that you would only come by if you were traveling through the state. Not looking for a night out on the town. Big hot shots like them usually stuck to the big cities, with more prominent clubs and expensive places to stay.
Here in St. Martinsville, all we had was a bed and breakfast, which also served as a pub, and Louie's, the club Alistair played at. And it only attracted a small, loyal crowd. Of vampires. The bar was vampire friendly; a haven of sorts, for them to congregate and enjoy themselves, discuss their favorite blood types and such. Humans rarely came by, and when they did, the vampires did their best to control themselves in order to remain unsuspected of any shady activities.
Alistair loved the company of humans, though. And they loved him. He was such a charismatic man, so full of love, so vibrant, so lively. And a damn good piano player.
The very first time I saw Alistair, I was amazed by the hold he had over everyone. I had walked into the bar, clad in the most elegant dress I could find, and certainly stuck out from the quaint, homely appearance of the other patrons. And that was the point. To attract his attention, lure him in, and then take him down. I could have done it right then and there; shifted, and dragged his wailing body down to the depths of the Underworld. But I liked to play with them first.
"What'll you have, miss?" The bartender asked as I took a seat at the end of the bar, away from everyone else.
"You wouldn't happen to serve blood, would you?" I smiled, flashing my fangs.
The bartender smirked. "We do. What type would the lady be interested in?"
"Oh, I have no preference," I said. "Just as long as it's blood, I'll drink it."
He served me a glass, and watched as I took a sip, savoring the taste. "We're pretty discreet, ma'am. How'd you find out this was a vampire bar?"
"I just had a feeling," I said simply, spinning the bar stool around to watch the piano player. The bartender leaned his elbows on the counter. "Who's that? He plays very well."
"That's Alistair Delacroix," He answered. "But you're lucky we're all vampires, otherwise you'd have wound up with a stake in your heart, missy."
"I guess I am lucky," I replied absently, staring at the man, who sang as loudly as he could without missing a note, playing the piano perfectly, his fingers grazing over the keys with ease.
The night went on, and Alistair never left the piano, even if he stopped to chat with the others. He simply swiveled in his seat and addressed everyone around him. At one point, so engrossed in a conversation, he leaned to the side and rest his elbow on the keys accidentally, and jumped at the sound elicited by the ebony beast behind him. I, along with him and the others, laughed aloud at his act. If he could have blushed, he certainly would have, as embarrassment was written all over his long face.
His face…yes, his features looked like he was created by the Gods themselves. A strong jaw line, shadowed by a dark stubble that failed to make him look unkempt, but more attractive, as if it were possible. His short, dark brown hair sat atop his head, slicked back, a few strands falling into his deep, cerulean eyes hidden behind a pair of bifocals. Beneath his ivory dress shirt lay his wide shoulders, and with each movement of his arms as his fingers danced ever so gracefully over the keys, his muscles flexed beneath the fabric, so much so you needn't strip him of his shirt to see what perfection lie underneath.
Such a shame I wouldn't be able to witness such beauty after tonight, I thought. I might as well make this night worthwhile.
And worthwhile it had been. Alistair had caught sight of me exactly as I had wanted him to, and stepped away from his piano to approach me. He was a gentlemen, yes he was. So polite, and so tentative, even to touch my hand as he complimented my looks. The way he hesitated before setting his large, calloused hand on top of mine, I thought he was going to ask permission first.
"Your hands are too rough for a pianist," I remarked, tracing my fingertip along his palm.
"Yes, well, before I decided to play full time here at Louie's, when I was still a human, I was a carpenter," He retracted his hand gently, and stared at me with those big blue eyes of his. "You are very beautiful, Miss…?"
"Miss Foster," I replied. "And me, beautiful? Oh, you're just a flirt."
"Not at all, Miss Foster. Simply stating the truth."
I glanced at my skewed reflection in the blood stained glass. My hair was relatively short, especially for this time period. Most women had their hair grown down the their backs, but mine stopped at my shoulders, and hung down in black waves. My face was pale, and thin, heart in shape. What I stared at the longest before looking back at Alistair and smiling, were my eyes. Small, and a deep, rich golden color. I always wondered why I was stuck with this color, and couldn't have blue or green eyes like the many humans I have met.
Later on, I awoke beside Alistair, naked, after hours of lustful sex. The vampire's stamina impressed me. I smirked, and began collecting my things, and prepared to kill him. I rose from the bed and watched his sleeping form. So peaceful. He stirred and opened his eyes when my foot caused the floorboards to creak.
"Dammit," I cursed.
He sat up and questioned me as to what I was doing, where I planned on going during the daytime. You'll burn up, he said. You can't leave, not yet, he went on. The more time I spent with him, talking endlessly about whatever came to mind; all the things we have been witness to, the loneliness that being what we are created…I opened up fully, and so did he, and through this we found so many things we held in common, despite the grand difference in what we are, the difference he was not aware of. Not yet. I began feeling something I had never experienced, not in all my three thousand years. This man, this vampire, awakened a part of me I didn't know was there, one full of love and passion.
We did this for weeks. Talked, laid together and watched the moon. Conversations flowed, and never once were they dull. Each glance shared felt as if we had seen each other for the very first time.
I couldn't kill him.
No, I couldn't. I loved him, I loved this feeling, far too much to let go of. Being an Elder, no one questioned my whereabouts or what I did with my time, as I was free to do as I pleased without being under a watchful eye. But, I was a Collector. And being one, I was on a strict time period. I had to bring something down for the demons. I just couldn't bring myself to leave his side.
Stressed and conflicted, I confessed to Alistair what I was and my purpose for being here. I told him why I was at the bar that night, and all the while I feared his reaction. He showed no emotion, and that scared me the most. He was so full of it, and now he showed none. After a long moment, he took me in his arms and held me close, saying he loved me and believed it to be fate that brought me here. Alistair made me promise I would never hurt him, and I swore on my life that I would do all I could to protect him.
And it was then that he gave me my name, Adrian, after looking at me with a critical eye, scratching his beard and searching for something that would suit this nameless Hound.
"It suits you," He said. "The name is just as beautiful as you are."
And now, weeks later I sat in the living room by the front window, the candle glowing brightly next to me, waiting for my pianist to arrive home. Suddenly, the ground shook, and the flame grew higher, and hotter, burning with the intensity of the infernos in the Pit. I knew who was here. And thankfully, Alistair was not.
The door blew open, and from outside, stepped in six tall, muscular men, naked and smoldering like a fire that had just been extinguished. From the back of the pack of Hounds-my pack-stepped the second in command. Riggs. The pup and I had a love/hate relationship, often taunting each other for no reason, arguing incessantly. And when we weren't doing that, we sat together and enjoyed each other's company, talking, telling jokes. Despite my hatred for his generation, I held a certain affection for him, and from time to time, I referred to him as a brother…and our relationship had escalated from that, to lovers after quite some time…until recently, that is. But now, he was an enemy. His gaze held suspicion, a lack of trust for his leader.
"What are you doing here?" He asked. "It has been well over a month. The demons were beginning to wonder if you had died."
"I'm alive and well," I said, walking away from the window and toward the naked Hound. Although I am female, I was taller than him, if only by an inch or two. "What are you doing here?"
"Checking up on you," He searched around the room. "The place smells strongly of vampire. You're not keeping one for yourself, are you?"
"No, I am not. Simply taking advantage of my time here, and indulging in the vampire's blood. He's too good to dispose of so quickly," I averted my gaze. I hate lying to him.
Riggs grinned and laughed. "You seem to do that with all the vampires before you bring them down. Why waste so much time on this one?"
I hesitated before answering. "He's entertaining. A fun one, really. Different than all the other mindless vampires I've taken. I suppose I got caught up and lost track of time."
"It is one thing to lose track of time for an hour, but for a month? You aren't romantically interested in this one, are you, because you know what consequences housing a bounty entails, I'm sure," Riggs eyed me skeptically.
"Of course not," I looked away.
"You're lying."
"I would never lie." I stared him in the eye.
"Then allow me to See you."
I straightened my posture and looked down at him. "I am your Elder. You will do no such thing."
"Only one whose words are not pure would deny another to See them."
"Are you implying that I am a liar?" I said, stepping closer. "Such implications against your Elders could have you killed."
"Let me See you," He said, reaching for my wrist.
I tried pulling away. "Riggs, no. No!"
He lurched forward, the both of us toppling over onto the dusty hardwood floor, crashing through the table and knocking the bookcase over, and sunk his nails into my neck. My body tensed, every muscle as rigid and hard as the floor underneath me. My memories flashed before my eyes, every little detail playing out for Riggs to see; the sex, the nights we shared laying under the stars talking for hours until the sun began to rise. He violently withdrew his claws, and slammed his fist into my jaw. I rubbed the throbbing spot, and stood, my hands gripping his throat tightly.
"How dare you disobey me!" I roared. "I should kill you for this."
Riggs simply smiled and confirmed the pack member's suspicions, that I was housing, and in love, with a vampire. The others looked on in disgust, spitting insults at me, treating me as if I were just another Hound, and not the Elder they were to fear. And respect. I sniffed the air. As I did so, the others began to follow, smelling the same thing I had.
Alistair.
"No," I whispered.
He walked through the doorway, and dropped his things, looking around the room at the men surrounding him. His face seemed paler than usual, and I could sense the uneasiness churning his insides. Slowly, he asked what was going on, and I directed him to leave, to go into the bedroom and allow me to deal with the Hounds. As he began to leave, the pack grabbed hold of him, and began burning his flesh.
I let go of Riggs and rushed forward toward Alistair to rip him away from the savages, but halted abruptly in my tracks. Unable to move, I was bound by a spell that trapped me within the shadows I used my entire life to travel in. Now, instead of being able to move with ease, I was frozen. I couldn't even move my jaw to speak.
The ground began to warp beneath me, and I heard the familiar crackle of the flames and the screaming of lost and tortured souls.
No, no, no, I thought. This can't be happening.
I focused on Alistair, tears streaming down my cheeks, and telepathically, I promised that no matter what, I would return. The last thing I saw before being sucked into the earth below me, was Riggs knock him unconscious….
I sat on Eric's bed, my bottom lip quivering, eyes burning with tears that I struggled to hold back. I couldn't hide them anymore. I collapsed onto my side in a fit of sobs, murmuring Alistair's name between each ragged breath. Eric rushed to my side and picked me up, pulling my limp body into his lap, and held me close to him, his hand massaging my back soothingly.
"What's wrong?" He asked gently, the concern in his voice surprising the both of us.
I wiped bloody tears from my eyes and looked at Eric. "Riggs…a long time ago, I was in love. With a vampire. One I was supposed to kill. And…" I began crying again, but took a deep breath and calmed myself. "I swore I'd do whatever I could to protect him, but then Riggs found me. And took me away from him. Not even I could have gotten away, not with the spell he used. And…the night I almost died, I found out he was killed by Riggs," I choked. "Riggs killed him. And now I have nothing left. Nothing to look forward to, nothing to love. Fuck, I'll never love again."
Despite the pain I felt at that very moment, I didn't believe the last words that left my mouth. I stared into Eric's eyes and thought briefly that maybe love wasn't dead, even if he hadn't felt the same way, the adoration I felt for my Keeper was enough, and I felt oddly contented in the fact I could still feel.
Eric wrapped his arms around my waist and whispered quietly that I'd be fine, his words delivered in a reassuring monotone. My eyes began widening as I felt his lips on my forehead, an affectionate kiss, and shivered at the feel of his soft, cool lips on my skin. I enjoyed the feeling, the comfort it brought, but at the same time was caught off guard. Affection doesn't seem normal for the Viking. I looked up at him, confused by the kiss and began to pull away from him, muttering that he needn't take care of me.
I'm a three thousand year old Hound, for Christ's sake. I shouldn't be this heartbroken. I stalked off toward the door, set on escaping this place, the Vampire whose face I couldn't bear to look at. Eric only reminded me of him.
With inhuman speed, the blonde crossed the room and dragged me back down onto the bed, pinning my body beneath his. Blue eyes searched mine for what seemed like an eternity, and I could feel the reluctance, the hesitation, oozing out of him like blood from a fresh wound. He seemed to be at war with himself, fighting to do the right thing, to pull away and maintain the relationship we already had. I knew it would be wrong to do this.
But, sometimes wrong was just right, and that's all my body kept shouting at me. To let it happen. I couldn't fight it anymore. And neither could he.
The Viking dipped his head down and crashed his lips upon my own, kissing me as if his life depended on it.
Taking a deep breath, I pulled away, staring at him skeptically. "Eric…what are you doing?"
For the first time in all the days I've known him, the cocky Vampire stammered, and he looked as if he was fighting to control himself, even though we both knew now, deep down, that it would be futile.
"Your pain…I can feel it. And all I want to do, all my body will let me do, is try and make it go away," Eric sounded unnerved, almost scared of the feelings that drove him. "I don't understand it. I don't like not knowing why I'm feeling like this."
I ran my hands over his biceps, searching for the right words to say, but nothing seemed appropriate. I hadn't even been able to explain my own feelings, and couldn't begin to comprehend why he felt the way he did.
"Sometimes…it's best not to question these things," I said softly.
His brows furrowed as a slight smile curved his lips. "Adrian, what have you done to me?"
"I could ask you the same thing."
Our lips met once more, and a whirlwind of emotions crashed over me. Every nerve ending felt as if it were on fire as his hands roamed every inch of my body. I tangled my fingers in his hair and tugged him closer, deepening the kiss.
One item after the other, our clothes were strewn about the room, tossed carelessly aside, and I inhaled sharply at the feel of his skin, cold as the dead of winter, pressed flush against my own form.
Like fire and ice, I mused, shifting underneath him. I lost myself in Eric, in a wild euphoria, ecstasy overwhelming me as his scent flooded my nostrils, at his body that contoured to every curvature of my own, as if he were made for me, and I him.
With a chest rumbling moan Eric reached down, and my legs were wrapped tightly around his hips as he forced his length inside of me.
. . .
The next morning I awoke, pleasantly sore from the previous night, and slid closer to his body, tugging the arm that was already snaked around my waist up to my chest. I ensnared my fingers within his, and closed my eyes, falling once again into a peaceful, much needed sleep.