Category: Paranormal

Blind Salvation: Kennedy

Kennedy

The pain that shocked her system was indescribable. It sent a fire that swept through her and consumed every fiber of her being that she felt her convulse again, over and over under her body went limp from exhaustion. She heard the familiar and loving voice of Damien, encouraging her, reminding her that he was right there and then…she hurled. Violently. Until there was nothing else left but dry heaves. A few minutes later she felt herself being lifted, her clothing removed-something she struggled against until she was reminded that it was no one else but Damien- and then her body relax as it hit the deliciously warm and sudsy water of her tub. The side of her neck ached, and she was aware that Damien was careful not to brush up against it too much. The wound was raw and the creature that did that to her, that vampire had clearly wanted to do more than kill her. Her eyes snapped open at the realization, and the tall, shadowy outline that defined Damien, spoke in soft tones to her, reassuring her that they were alone.

Guinevere was the creature’s name, and she only knew that because another one had saved her. Another vampire. And, now here she was with Damien. He cleansed her tenderly before scooping her into his arms and wrapped her in the plush robe that he had discovered in the huge walk in closet. Her mother’s. Kennedy made a mental note that maybe it was time to get rid of some things. Her parents were never coming back and all of their reminders did not help. He propped her up on the bed and she could feel him staring at her. “I don’t know what happened,” she whispered. Between the pain and the awakening fear, she did her best to fight back the tears that flooded her already bad vision but it was too much. She almost died again. “I was at the park with Hubert and she came out of nowhere,” she stammered. “She said I was the reason why you looked at her with disgust…” ‘Guinevere,” he growled. “It was Guinevere.” “Who is she and why?” She could sense Damien fidgeting around in discomfort, and it was then that she realized that there was still much more she did not know about this man or vampire. “I am a prince,” he stated with no emotion. “Guinevere is to be my bride-not by my choice. I want nothing to do with her-““-So you are engaged?” Kennedy said feeling like she just got punched in the stomach. “Yes,” Damien said dryly. “Courtesy of my father who is the King.” “When were you going to tell me?” Kennedy could barely speak, not without giving away the fact that her heart was breaking. “I have been working on finding a way out…” “I see…” “She won’t come for you again,” Damien said quickly taking her hand. “My sister Lucinda took care of that.” “And how did she know about me? How did both of them know about me?” “Guinevere caught your scent even after I showered last night. Her family has a legendary ability to track virtually anyone or anything which made them incredibly skilled…hunters. I did not know that she would find you so quickly if at all but I clearly underestimated her ability. Lucinda had been following Guinevere because she never liked her and she too had caught your scent mixed with mine…and she was able to save you. She saved you because…because of me…” Damien allowed his last statement to trail off as he studied Kennedy’s heartbroken expression. Tears streamed down her lovely brown face like a spring rain and gently wiped her face with his palm, collecting each tear as if it were a precious diamond.  He could feel the pain-not just the physical pain of the attack but the emotional turmoil that she suffered. Because of him. She was an intelligent woman. She was independent. She was not some feeble minded nor emotionally needed woman who yearned for basic companionship. She trusted him; something that he did not want to lose. As Damien continued to study her, he realized only a woman in love would allow any of this. He could feel it in her smile and the way her heart would beat erratically and frantically in his presence. Kennedy felt his gaze and put her face in her hands. This was too much. The man that she lov- the man that she…she… “I love you Kennedy,” he blurted out. The man that she was in love with was about to be married to someone else. Life sucked. Balls.

“Did you hear me,” he said. “I love you.” She had heard him the first time but could not find the strength to say it back. He had struck a chord and the floodgates reopened and more crystal tears poured down her face and her soul cried out for the release. “I love you too,” She finally managed to say. “Hopelessly in love with you…” And then she sobbed until her very soul was tired.

Blind Salvation: Damien

Damien

He made it to the mansion with just a few minutes to spare. He had just enough time to shower and dress and as he entered his version of King Louis XIV luxury suite of indulgence, he found his sister, the ever beautiful red haired beauty and royal princess Lucinda casually sitting on the edge of his 16th century styled poster bed. She glanced at him with a slight smirk on her face, looking as devious as ever. Dressed in a midnight blue strapless Christian Dior gown, she crossed her legs and eyed Damien with a look of suspicion. “You have been with a human,” she said still smiling. “I can smell her all over you. The night of the presentation and you fulfill your carnal desires with a human…” “Get out of my room Lucinda,” Damien seethed as he walked right past her and into his walk in closet that was the size of a one bedroom apartment. “Why are you acting so testy?” She teased as she slithered behind him to antagonize him some more. “I am sure father would be quite proud to know…” “As the future King of this bloodline I can do whatever the hell I want. The only thing I am obligated to do is marry the shrew and eventually give us an heir. Now get out of my room Lucinda!” Baring his fangs at his spitefully wicked sister, he turned his back to her in his continued search for something to wear. Unmoved by his anger Lucinda took a seat on a crimson red ottoman that was situated nearby and regained her composure. She fiddled with her hair which hung down loosely in a side ponytail that was curled at the ends. “My husband would have made a fine king had daddy changed the laws of the monarchy,” she said finally. “Alexander is a fine vampire who values civility and the rightful order of a society…” “Yes, well Alexander should watch himself,” Damien warned. “I have heard of his proclivities and you would have been better off marrying a Lycan than the likes of him. Hell, Rothbart would have been a better choice for you…” Lucinda gasped at the name. “Don’t say that name again in my presence.” She demanded. “Why?” Damien turned to face her. Her demeanor had transitioned from pretentious and snobbish to ghastly pale and frightened at the mention of the Slayer’s name. “You are the reason why I am even in this position. Yes, dear sister did you think I had forgotten your silly little games you played on the Slayer? The same Slayer that hunted our bloodline to damn near extinction and who left his mark on Father? You are fortunate that father did not kill you for the deeds that you have done. So, for you to come in here and taunt me about my personal affairs you should be residing in eternal hope that I do not exile you to destitution and have your precious husband executed on the spot!” Lucinda’s perfectly symmetrical face had turned beet red at the memory. Her wolf grey eyes had glittered with unfallen tears and she placed her face in her hands. “I really did love him Damien. It wasn’t a game.” Damien took a moment to study his sister and based off of her scent he could detect no lie. “Yeah? Well, tell that to Father because Rothbart has returned.” Lucinda wiped her face and stared into Damien’s midnight blue eyes. “I hope you killed whatever human you were with tonight,” she said. “I can tell by your scent that she is more to you than what you are willing to admit.” Lucinda stood up and strengthened her resolve. “If you care about her you would have killed her because now that you are about to meet your future queen I will leave you with this warning. Please consider it a parting gift from me because after tonight Alexander and I are leaving Brigewood forever. Guinevere is not the feeble minded, socially inadequate shrew that most of the members of the aristocracy believe her to be. I met her a few times and she is sadistic and evil and power thirsty. You are a prize to her: a hard earned prize and she will not settle for being second place in your life. She intends to utilize her role as your wife to its fullest capacity. Do not underestimate her.” Lucinda turned then dematerialized to the Great Hall in the house leaving Damien alone with his thoughts. He found the old world suit and tie that he was looking for and made his way to shower off the remainder of Kennedy’s mouth -watering fragrance before heading down to meet his Fate.

As always Damien was dressed to impress with his black tux and Prada’s finest leather Oxfords. With one quick glance in the mirror, he could not help but admit to himself that he looked like a living god. His long raven hair was freshly pulled back in his signature braid, the tux fitted his muscled form to perfection. Yes, he was definitely eye candy and Guinevere should feel honored that he was forced to be in her presence. He dematerialized to the Great Hall where his father and everyone in his family’s bloodline were waiting. The Great Hall, the largest room in the house was where his parents hosted many a dinner. The seating amounted to 300 and tonight it was filled to maximum capacity. Decorated in Old World Medieval elegance themes with two banners representing both families (Damien’s being red and Guinevere’s being bright green) mounted on opposite walls facing one another, Damien sighed at the spectacle.  Seated at glass tables with expensive linen’s draped across the top, each of the 300 or so guests represented every well known fashion designer from Christian Louboutin, Christian Dior, Coco Chanel, Giorgio Armani, Versace, and Marc Jacobs just to name a few. The female’s kept their gowns simple, most of them strapless and of varying colors. Most of the males were dressed in a tux and carried themselves with an air of regality that one would have thought they were in the presence of kings-not one king. The servants had worked tirelessly at preparing a feast that was fit for an emperor: serving the finest of fish, chicken, wines and a variety of side dishes that would make the Food Network look like a dish served in the local school cafeteria. Then of course, on each of the dining tables that could seat a total of ten people were helpless and very terrified and nude humans tied down as offerings for the supposed to be special day.

Working his way through the crowd he said his hello’s and performed the appropriate greetings to everyone according to their station before he finally made his way over to where his father and mother sat. His mother, Phaedra looked as divine as ever, an exact replica of her daughter, the only difference was the black mole that sat proudly above the right side of her mouth. His mother was known for uniqueness among the vampire race: she was not bloodthirsty, she did not take pleasure in terrorizing humans and she even held a certain level of respect and sympathy for them…except for tonight. She could not afford to make her husband of 600 years appear weak in front of hundreds of vampires vying for and secretly plotting for his position. He kissed his mother lovingly on the cheek before bowing to his father who gave him a slight nod in acknowledgement. “You made it on time,” Hadrian said feeling pleased with his son’s obedience. “I had no choice,” Damien replied as he took a seat next to his mother who gently patted his hand. The human male that was tied to the table and gagged gave Damien a pleading look, which Damien ignored. After tonight he was definitely going to feed. “Where is the wench?” Damien asked suddenly feeling irritated. His father laughed heartily. “She should be coming down soon, son.” “And then can I go?” His mother gave him a surprised look. “Damien, Guinevere is a lovely female. Why would you be so anxious to leave?” “Because Damien’s loins are calling out to him,” his father chided.  Damien ignored his father’s reproach and focused his attention on the door fifty feet ahead of him. He hated his life at this moment. He honestly did. If his father- and just then the door opened and everyone in the room fell silent. A tall, slender built female with magnificently dark hair and emerald green eyes met his gaze. She wore a forest green gown with thin straps that barely supported the most exquisite set of breasts that Damien had ever laid his eyes on…next to Kennedy’s of course. Her neck was bare and from her ears hung a pair of diamond earrings that illuminated a blinding sparkle. A knowing smile greeted him, as if she knew everything there was to know about Damien’s past, present and future; and she took her time approaching his table. Her father, Stefan, walked proudly behind her, his long blonde hair sprawled out across his shoulders giving him the resemblance of a lion instead of a proud and respected vampire. Her mother was as tall as she with equally magnificent dark hair that kept wrapped in a bun and she wore a simple black gown that gently caressed her small ankles as she walked. Guinevere was definitely excellent eye candy and clearly she found herself a stylist to make her look presentable for this occasion. But, as Damien watched with dread as his future wife proudly approached his table, his chest ached for only one woman: Kennedy.

Once she had finally reached the table where Damien and his parents sat, she bowed respectfully to Hadrian, and then Phaedra and finally to Damien. When her eyes met his, her irises lit up with desire and Damien respectfully smiled at her. Realizing that his enthusiasm was not the same she averted her eyes to the floor and she straightened her stance with her father guiding her over to her seat next to Damien. Hadrian stood up and proudly bellowed to the crowd, “To the future King and Queen of our glorious bloodlines! May they have many heirs and a prosperous existence!” The crowd erupted with cheers as champagne glasses were passed around. Damien was not in the mood to drink anything. He could feel himself being watched and he turned his head to face Guinevere whom had been studying him as she took a sip of her champagne. “Am I not to your liking milord?” She asked plainly. Phaedra turned to look at Guinevere who gave an awkward smile and a raised glass. Phaedra glared at Damien who simply shrugged and returned his attentions to the crowd.

It was a good while before the cheering and clinking of glasses abated and then once Hadrian was finished giving his speech addressing the importance of bloodlines and unity, only to conclude on a high note of praises towards Stefan and his family could they eat. Becoming more frustrated and irritated by the minute, Damien eyed the human hungrily and before the first plate of food was served to his table he savagely bit the frightened human. He tore deeply into the man’s jugular and with vicious pulls he drank the life forced that helped him deal with his irritable mood. Once he was finished, Damien raised his head to notice everyone in the room staring at him, even his father and mother who gave him a look of surprise and horror. Guinevere smiled and followed suit, dropping her fangs, the strike was swift and hard into the man’s thigh. Soon, a feeding frenzy erupted and Damien took this an opportunity to leave.

He dematerialized to his room where he found his phone hidden behind a desk and hooked up to a charger. There were no missed calls and then just as he was about to search for the name of the only woman he could think about came a familiar scent. Guinevere had followed him. He bared his fangs in annoyance as she took form in front of him. “Who is she?” She demanded. “Why are you in here?” He snarled violently. “Who is she?” She demanded again. “I am to be your wife and you have done nothing more than look at me with unfortunate dismay as if I were some human!” She screeched. “I don’t even know you and you are acting as possessive as a fool in love you delusional twit,” he snapped. “I am required to marry you, and if you thought that by acting as an insecure teenaged girl in the throes of a tantrum was going to make me look at you with anything more than dismay you have another thing coming.” Well that got her attention. “I will have you know that this is as much as a sacrifice for me as it is for you.” She retorted. “No it isn’t,” Damien replied coolly. “You and your family are elevated from that lowly station that you were given-for goodness sake Guinevere you get to be a queen with every right and privilege afforded to that title. So what exactly are you sacrificing? And whoever this she is that you keep inquiring about, well there is none. So, with that being said, why don’t you remove yourself from my presence before you embarrass yourself and your family any further than you have already.” Tucking his phone in his pocket, he disappeared out of the room to another, more remote location in the house leaving a furious Guinevere trembling with rage and mumbling a vow of vengeance. “I will find out who this woman is Damien.” She inhaled deeply and smiled. Guinevere’s family was legendary for their ability to track the even faintest of scents, which was how her father had found favor with the king.  Guinevere stalked out of Damien’s room with a twisted smile. “Let the games begin,” she mumbled to herself.

Blind Salvation Excerpt…: Kennedy

Kennedy stretched and relaxed back into the toasty warmth provided not only by the comforter that she was wrapped in, but by the arms of the man who had become almost like her guardian in less than 24 hours. She could hear the slow and deep inhales and exhales as he lied beside her with her body folded protectively into his arms; his body completely still and the perfect reprieve from the mundane existence that she had possessed for most of her life. She had never known what it meant to be fully contented, even with all of the amenities that her parent’s success had provided, her lack of sight had always proven to be a hindrance which made her feel like she was living a half-life. However, since the moment this man, Damien had saved her from a torturous and perhaps fatal encounter she finally had the feeling that life had given her a purpose: which meant that she would no longer be a prisoner of the dark.

She moved again, only slightly, desperate to not disturb him, but there was a sudden awakening blooming between her legs. She tried not to think about the way he kissed her with such gentle reverence; he was careful yet deliberate; his lips full and soft and a sensual delicacy that she wanted to secretly devour. No man had ever been successful in gaining her trust let alone her desire. She had grown to accept the possibility of spending the rest of her life alone unwanted and without unconditional love. She assumed that every man she would ever meet would only be able to love her conditionally: as long as she was financially stable he would give her his time and attention; he would feed that private longing of acceptance and when the time came for when he had had his fill she would be back to square one again. And yet, not even a full 24 hours later Damien had done more than earn her trust: he found the secret key to the unlocked chamber hidden beyond the gates of her beating heart.

Relax Kennedy, she thought to herself as she accidentally brushed her behind against the iron rod that protruded lengthily from between his legs. Could that be for me? She chastised herself again for wishful thinking and scooted further into the bed away from his hips. In response, he gripped her waist a little tighter and pulled her in closer, with that iron rod gently pushing, searching for an in, increasing the growing hunger for something a little more primal than food. With his arm around her waist he began to nuzzle the base of her neck and then he began to leave a trail of soft kisses from her neck to shoulder, and as much as Kennedy’s mind screamed for her to tell him to stop she surrendered to his silent demand. His body was calling her and she responded.  And then he began to purr.

The noise was barely audible, but with her eyes being weak her other senses had kicked into overdrive and so she knew what she heard. Strange, yes, she had never heard of a man purring in response to intimacy but hey, she was making noises too. She turned to face him and in the shadowy darkness she could see that internal spark that she knew everyone possessed and could be best identified as the “soul”; but his was not the golden light that she typically saw in regular people, no his was the color of a blue flame and she did not know what to make of it. She did not care. His purring grew louder as he took her mouth and eased his tongue into hers; guiding her, teaching her, showing her all the things that he could do to her if she let him. And she would.

He released her mouth and continued with his trail of kisses down her jugular and before she knew it he ripped her oversized shirt completely off. And then the purring turned into something else. He growled. Not the vicious snarl that one would expect from a dog, more or less like a lion who had its prey in its sights. But for her it was not frightening; it was orgasmic. The fire that lit through her had rocked her to the core. Her core had ripened and after a moment of contract and release the euphoria that flooded her system was maddening. “Don’t leave me,” he whispered huskily as he gently sucked, licked and teased her nipple until she exploded again. “Pleeeeaassse,” she begged. She could not have been sure what it was she was begging for but whatever it was she needed to have it. He slid his hands underneath her and pulled her sweats down and threw them to the floor exposing her. “You honor me,” he said reverently. “Oh God you honor me…” “Please be gentle…I haven’t done this before,” she breathed. Oh how she wished she could see!  He kissed the inside of her thigh before answering. “Don’t worry, I will not take you like this,” he said his voice having deepened. “But I will not leave you lost in this state either.” He kissed the insides of her thighs, sending more shockwaves into her core which reverberated throughout the course of her body, before he plunged in head first. She never knew that her voice could reach a pitch that high, but it did. He kissed, licked and ravished her until she could no longer take it and once she released she felt his body begin to vibrate uncontrollably with hers and they both cried out and he collapsed in a heap next to her. Wow was the only word that came to mind.

Blind Salvation Excerpt Post 3

Kennedy

It was almost noon when Kennedy stretched and yawned and proceeded to drag herself out of bed. What a night. Hubert was already in the living room as if he had been waiting for years for her to awaken. “Morning, Hubert,” she said as cautiously made her way into the kitchen. There was enough light for her to see into the kitchen and her stomach let her know immediately it was time for her to put something in it. Cereal would suffice and thank the Heavens she still had half of a box of Frosted Flakes waiting for her at the top of the fridge. Hubert had snuck up behind and barked, causing her to nearly drop the cereal, letting her know that his bowl was empty. So before she grabbed herself a plastic bowl that she kept in one of the many cabinets that made up the kitchen, she went to the cabinet underneath the sink and reached for a can of Purina and opened it and dumped the contents into his food bowl. She then grabbed his second food bowl which she filled with some of his dry food and last but not least she grabbed a water bottle out of the fridge and gave him some fresh water. “There ya go Hubert,” she said. “Sorry about that…”  It was then that she realized that Marisol was not there and being that her friend knew better than to leave a note, Kennedy thought best to give her a call. She didn’t mean to interrupt Hubert’s feast but she could not settle herself enough to eat without finding out what happened to Marisol. “Hubert,” she commanded. “Phone.”  Slightly disgruntled but obedient Hubert went into parent’s bedroom and retrieved her IPhone 6 and after she took it out of his mouth she patted his head lovingly and said “Good boy. Now go eat.” Hubert wagged his tail happily and then greedily went back to his food. “Siri, dial Marisol.” Kennedy spoke into the receiver of Apple’s best -selling product. “Calling Marisol,” the operating system responded. Marisol picked up on the first ring. “Hey girlie,” she said cheerfully. “Hey Mari, I was just calling to check on you,” Kennedy said as she grabbed a bowl and poured the contents of the cereal box into it. “I know my friend and thank you. I left early this morning because my pops wanted me to handle some business for him. Are you ok?” “Yeah sure, fine I just wanted to make sure you were ok. We had quite a bit of wine last night,” Kennedy chuckled. “Girl I know…I was knocked out cold. I didn’t want to wake you but if it makes you feel any better Hubert escorted me to the door this morning.” Marisol said laughing. “Always the gentlemen,” Kennedy chuckled. “But anyways, Kennedy I won’t be back for another couple of days. My parents have quite a bit of work cut out for me and I need some time to get everything sorted. But call me if you need anything or if you just want to talk.” “Thank you and same to you. I am so glad you are back Mari,” Kennedy said with a sad smile. “Me too. But look I gotta go mamacita. Talk to you later.” “Later,” Kennedy said as she ended the call. “Well Hubert it’s just me and you again today,” She said to the golden retriever who was too busy indulging himself in his food.

It was evening by the time Kennedy had found the resolve needed to head to the market which was a few blocks away. With Hubert leading the way, and her trusty cane, she was not all too concerned with the journey. All that she needed was a few things: some milk, bread, body wash and a couple of T.V. dinners and snacks and then she would be good to go. Dressed in some DKNY skinny jeans, a pair of black UGGS, and matching turtleneck and leather jacket she was good to go. She allowed her braids to hang loosely and she covered her eyes with a pair of dark sunglasses she bought at the mall a few years ago. She did not feel like “looking into the souls” of passerby’s along the way. She just wanted to get in and get out without any hassles-not that she was anticipating anything in particular but the point it she wanted to be inside before it was too late.

Of course Hubert was the center of attention in the local Safeway. All of the clerks knew him and random customers could not help being drawn to the laid back retriever. Hubert took all of the attention in stride and Kennedy could not be more proud. Once her groceries were paid for, she was out the door with Hubert leading the way. She was minutes away from her house when the catcalls started, and it was not long before she could sense the presence of more than one man looming behind her. “Hey baby, looking good tonight,” one shouted loud enough for the world to hear but close enough for her body to tense up. Hubert could sense her uneasiness and stopped where he was and turned around and growled and snarled at the assailants who simply laughed in devious glee. “Awww wook at da widdle doggee,” A man with a deep voice teased. “Baby girl wanna have some fun tonight?” Came another deep voice. Kennedy began to nervously tug at Hubert’s leash hoping for an easy retreat. “Its ok,” she said nervously. “We don’t want any problems.” Hubert’s barking became more incessant as she could sense the perpetrators move in closer. “Man fuck that dog,” one of the men snapped. “Get her!” Before she knew it she dropped her bags as one of the men kicked Hubert sending him whimpering. “Hubert!” She cried as she used her cane to swipe at the men. They laughed when they realized she couldn’t see where she was going. “This is going to be easy,” one man said as he grabbed ahold of her cane and snatched it out of her grip. Another came from behind and grabbed her by the waist when she heard the violent scream of another and sounds of flesh being torn from flesh. The man who grabbed her cane knocked her to the ground and she hit the pavement with a hard thud. “Hubert!” she called completely terrified and only slightly dazed. She cursed herself for being blind and she felt the familiar nuzzle of her wounded pet letting her know she was ok. “Hubert we have to get out of here.” But the dog wouldn’t move and when she tried to get up he used his 150 pound weight to sit on top of her to keep her down. She knew instinctively that Hubert was protecting her but she couldn’t help but wonder what made him do that. She could hear more screams and the crack and snap of bones being broken and she covered her ears.  It felt like an eternity before Hubert got off of her and as she remained crouched low on the ground she felt another presence staring down at her. “Please don’t hurt me,” she whimpered. “I won’t,” came the silky deep voice of a man that sounded nothing like the perverts that attacked her. “My name is Damien,” he said. “Take my hand.” She reached up to the dark shadowy figure’s outstretched hand and he hoisted her up with no effort on his part. “Do you need medical assistance?” He asked with concern. “I-I-I-I’m ok,” she stammered. “Some punks attacked me and my dog and-“ “They shall hurt you no more. They are gone. Are these your groceries?” It took her a second to process that question. “Yes, yes they are. But could you hand them to me please? I am blind and-““ No need to explain. I can see that. I will gather them for you. Here,” Damien said handing her her cane and Hubert’s leash. “Here is your cane and your dog’s leash. You have a good dog. He is very brave. He risked his life for yours.” She gladly took the cane and his leash. “I owe him my life,” she said reverently. “How injured is he? I heard the bastard kick him.” She started to cry.  Hubert nuzzled her, communicating that he was as shaken as she was but otherwise ok. “He is just fine. No visible injuries. I think he is just a little shaken but he is fine. Let me walk you guys home.” “No! That is fine,” she stammered. “We can take it from here…” “I can understand your apprehension but believe me if I wanted to hurt you I would have. I cannot walk away without making sure that you and Mr. Hubert are ok.” Damien gave her a minute to allow what he said to sink in and when it did, Hubert barked in agreement and she meekly gave him the ok with a slight nod. He grabbed both of her bags and motioned for Hubert to lead the way, in which of course of he did.

“By the way what is your name lovely lady?” Damien said as he walked side by side Kennedy the rest of the way to her home. “My name is Kennedy. Thank you so much for doing this.” “Where is your husband Kennedy?” “I am not married.” “Then where is your boyfriend?” “I don’t have one.” “Girlfriend?” Kennedy had to laugh at that one. “I’m not gay.” “Well lover?” “Uh no.” “Escort?” Kennedy laughed again. “Uh-uh.” “Confidante?” “It’s just me and Hubert in the world.” She said softly. “Oh, do you have any friends that could comfort you in this moment of crisis?” What an odd question, she thought. “Yes, but they are busy.” “I don’t think you should be alone.” Damien said plainly. “Yeah well, sometimes a person doesn’t have much of a choice.” “Well do you want me to call your family?” He said with increasing concern. Kennedy sighed. “My parents are dead. I have no one.” Hubert came to a stop right in front of her two story home. “Well this is it,” she said with a sigh. My parents are dead… Damien could not let that last statement go. She was really alone in the world. “This is your home? It looks quite lovely. I love brownstone houses…” Damien said unsure of what else to say. “Thank you. I guess the appropriate thing to do is to invite you in for some coffee. Hubert seems to have taken a liking to you. I guess he is as grateful as I am,” she smiled. And that is when he noticed her perfection: her smile. It was so big and welcoming and made him feel…whole. Strange. “I would love too,” he said with an all too big grin. “In exchange for your coffee I could help you put away your groceries.” Damien gently patted Hubert on the head. “Good boy,” he said to the dog who barked in acknowledgement. “You don’t have to do that. Once inside I know my way around and Hubert helps me. But, come in and have a seat.” Kennedy said as she dug for her keys and opened the door. Damien smiled brightly as he was thankful that she could not see blood stains on his powder blue top.  He followed them inside and shut the door.

Blind Salvation Excerpt…

Damien

Damien sat parked in front of the monolithic mansion that happened to be his parent’s not so humble abode. Yes he was of royal blood but damn it was the only mansion of its size in Bridgewood. They would have been better off living in Beverly Hills where they would have been able to fit right in with the narcissistic and self- indulgent celebrities and plastic surgeons that took up residency in that superficial town. But his parents had an air of arrogance and regality that put even people like Kanye West and Kim Kardashian to shame. They insisted that they not even breathe the same air as those miserable and feeble minded humans. His father, who happened to be the King of their bloodline, even went as far as to threaten to eradicate every last one of those so called celebrities that lived within a 20 mile radius of their home. And so Bridgewood was the choice.

Of course, they had the mansion built a hundred years before Bridgewood blossomed into existence and simply made renovations to every decade or so to ensure that it is appropriately modernized. Flash-forward to present time, the Bridgewood Estate as it has been dubbed in the local paper had over a hundred rooms and every amenity known to human and vampire. Every once in a while some nosy reporter will come knocking at the gate demanding an interview with the owner only to either never be seen again or his memory scrubbed which has protected the family for centuries. Now, the mansion has become the focal point of many horror stories both published and produced on the big screen and sometimes Damien wished his family would just return to the Old Country where everything was simpler and less complicated.

Damien sighed. He was still hungry but after abandoning the blind woman to her own devices, he decided to just go home. He could eat there because his mother kept a room full of willing participants that would be more than happy to quench his thirst. His parents could not figure out why he felt the need to go out and hunt at all when their staff supplied them with everything they could ever need or want. But nothing could replace freedom.  His thoughts went back to the blind woman and made a mental note to return the following night. He entered in the code to the gate and drove his very expensive 2015 custom painted blood red BMW in and went straight to the underground carport.

The underground carport was a quarter of a mile west onto the estate, beneath a row of various trees and greenery that made their back yard look like a damn forest. He parked into the discreetly marked driveway and pushed the button on his phone and became as still as a statue as he and his car slowly began to submerge into the ground. It was two minutes before his car was safely parked in the cavernous underground that looked more like one of those subway stations in New York. His father’s luxury car collection was parked down there along with his mother’s black Lexus. His sister’s car was the same model as his only hers was white and he unintentionally parked right next to hers. Great. Lucinda was home.

20 feet away was the elevator that took him straight to the first level of the big house. His room was on the third floor, way at the far end and overlooking the trees. He needed to get away from everyone and everything right now. It was simply one of those days. Or nights. Whatever. Once on the first level, he walked quickly in hopes of bypassing his father’s office only for his attempt to be thwarted when his father called his name. Begrudgingly, he went inside, dreading whatever it was father felt important enough to tell him. “Yes Father?” He said stepping foot into the immaculately kept room that was filled with books, a coffee table, a desk with a matching leather seat, desktop computer with a fax machine and colored printer. The color scheme was crimson and gold, his family’s colors and behind the desk sat the undisputed King: his father, Hadrian.

Hadrian was a menacing looking vampire and his looks matched his talents. His hair was kept in a long single braid and the color of a raven like Damien’s. Instead of dark blue, his eyes were an abysmal black and a long scar extended across his face from left eye to the right side of his jaw and whoever was fortunate enough to claim that victory was no longer walking this earth. He never retracted the four inch fangs that he used many a time to rip out the throats of enemies and prey and Hadrian, despite the deep scar still remained youthful. Even at 700 years, not a single white hair. He was as tall as Damien but his brawn was much wider and thickly muscled. He was a warrior back in his prime and which lead to the many disagreements that he had with his son.  “I have made arrangements for you to marry Stefan’s daughter, Guinevere by next spring. It is time you started taking your role in life more seriously and the next step is to bring more strong vampires into the world by birth and not those pesky little night crawlers that for whatever reason keep popping up through your bite. I told you to be careful with that son…humans and their immune systems are weak and disease prone. We cannot have our food populations diminish because you can’t remember to kill them afterward.” Hadrien waited for Damien’s response and after it dawned on him what was being demanded from him Damien exploded. “I don’t want to marry that simple minded twit of a vampire! She has the personality of a rock and there is nothing we have in common. Why can’t you marry off Lucinda to some schmooze who is desperate for the throne-“ “You will marry Guinevere or suffer the consequences of failing to do so! By law you are to marry who I tell you to marry because you are our bloodline’s future king Damien! I should have married you off a hundred years ago. I think I have given you enough time to live as you want but you have responsibilities to attend to.”  “I care not for the throne father and you know it.” Hadrian glared at his son who glared back. Damien could be as stubborn as him sometimes but this was serious. He would hate to have to punish his son for failing to follow his orders but unfortunately he knew that was what he was going to have to do. “You have 24 hours to come to a decision Damien and I expect it to be the right decision.” Damien stormed out of the office without another word. There was no way around his father. They could argue from sun up to sun down and nothing would change. His father’s word was final. Hadrian returned to his seat in front of the computer screen and continued responding to his emails without a second thought.

Damien marched down the winding corridors to another elevator that led to his room. Out of all the vampire females his father could have set him up with it had to be Stefan’s daughter? His father must have owed that tired old coffin a serious favor because Guinevere was at the bottom of the social barrel when it came to bloodlines. Sure she was easy on the eye with jet black hair that she wore hanging loosely to her waistline. Yes she had eyes that shown like emeralds and soft alabaster skin. But she was a fashion failure; all of that beauty and could not figure out what to do with it. And no grace to go with any of it. She barely uttered a word and was basically the laughing stock of his race and he was being forced to wed her? Damien shook his head. His father said he had 24 hours to come to a decision, so Damien figured it would be best to make the most of the 24 hours. But first he needed to feed. He made a quick right to one of the many rooms bypassing the servant quarters, then the kitchen and finally to his destination: the Blood Room. Yanking out a set of keys from his navy blue slacks that he bought from Nordstroms, he unlocked the door. On all four walls in the secluded room hung at least 30 humans of varying ages, races, and gender. They were barely alive, having only being fed though intravenously and some of them were slipping in and out of consciousness. In the beginning they were willing participants, until the realization that they would never see the light of day again and then terror struck and all hope dissipated. This was almost more cruel than stalking a victim and brutally sending them to their death. Waiting to die was much more torturous. He selected the Goth chick with the smeared dark make up and short black hair. Like the rest of them she was nude and semiconscious. Her body was not image perfect: she was disproportionate, and he could tell that she was not really meticulous when it came to personal hygiene. She had scars on both of her wrists from frequent cutting which made Damien not feel so guilty about what he needed to do. Not that he ever felt guilty about having to feed, but with this victim, he could tell that death was what she wanted. What she craved. And he was going to give it to her. He didn’t bother to unchain her, he bit her right where she hung. The strike was swift and hard and she screamed out in shock and horror awaking the other humans who were awaiting the same fate. They screamed and struggled against their chains in terror but to no avail. Once he was finished, he left the now dead Goth right where he found her. He ignored the panic stricken cries from the remaining 29 victims and wiped his mouth. He needed to freshen up first and then he would return to that two story flat where the blind woman and the dog resided.