Category: romance

Blind Salvation: New Character Alert

Rothbart

Using his sword, he sliced the head clean off of the Night Stalker and stepped back to watch it disintegrate onto the floor. The fifteen or saw Night Stalkers that were in his presence looked at each other with unease. “I had her!” He bellowed as he scanned the creatures that stood before him seeking another victim. Instead, he kicked an old woodened table and sent it crashing into a wall. He was back at the abandoned cellar of an old Victorian styled house that had become his home. Stupid Night Stalkers and their aversion for sunlight; sometimes they proved themselves to be nothing more than useless and this moment was one of those times. He should have just broke into the house and grabbed her himself but then he knew he would have had to come face to face with Lucinda and he was not sure if he could steady himself in her presence.  He punched a hole in the wall, the plaster exploded from the impact. That blind woman-no that Seer would have been an excellent bargaining chip to lure that arrogant prince and then his father to their doom.

“We can attack the mansion as soon as the sun sets,” one of the Night Stalkers, the oldest of the bunch who was once a lively man in his late thirties and a promising career in politics from the 18th century suggested.  Rothbart eyed him hatefully but did not say anything. He could attack the mansion tonight and while the Night Stalkers offered a useful distraction he could go inside and retrieve the Seer and ultimately lure the prince to his death. And after the prince, the King…followed by the queen and then… he shook his head. As much as he hated Lucinda for leaving him with a bitter heart he was not sure if he could bring himself to kill her. But, he could make her suffer.  “Leave,” he commanded the Night Stalkers who did not hesitate to relieve themselves of his presence. “Return as soon as the sun sets,” was all that he said as he watched them head into various parts of the house to hide from the last few remaining rays of the sun.

He dropped his sword, a hand- made blade constructed from the fiery embers of the Vatican made from the finest of alloys and then blessed by the Pope himself, and slumped on the ratty green sofa he had purchased over 40 years ago. The thought of Lucinda always sent him down a road of memories he unsuccessfully tried to bury deep into the black box he held under lock and key. But it was too late. He closed his eyes, and trued to distract his thoughts with remembering when the last time was he had taken the time to shower. It had been days-no, weeks maybe? He ran his fingers through his thinning blonde hair and remembered how Lucinda used to do the same. On nights when he could steal her away from the responsibilities of a future queen, they would secret themselves away to foggy streets of London, laughing and joking and headed wherever they pleased, and she would find that moment when he would lose himself in her grey eyes and run her fingers lovingly though his hair to the very tips.

How he missed those beautiful eyes of hers…and that thick mane of red hair. He used to lay it across his chest after several rounds of love making, while she cuddled next to him talking about the burdens of the throne and how demanding her father had been. Damien had been a fledgling then-the equivalent of a teenager, and Rothbart looked forward to those stolen moments with the vampire who had not only stolen his heart but his soul. Making love to her had been an experience that was irreplaceable and since their split he had not lain with another woman since then. She was insatiable and sensual-the perfect mix and it had been he that had taught her what she probably now used to entice her male suitors. It was he, Rothbart, who had been her first.

He grimaced at the memory. How could a love so perfect end so tragically? He was more than willing to leave the Order just so that he could spend his days and nights with her. He would have gladly turned a blind eye to the mess of Night Stalkers that her people carelessly created just so that he could build a relationship with her father, the King. And, then when he died and was reborn a few hundred years or so later, he would have come back to her…their love would have never had to end. But no, she would always be “Daddy’s Perfect Princess”. His blood would never be good enough for her and who he was would never be accepted, even if he did put down his sword. She had to marry a vampire. He wondered if she was married even though she was pretty much dethroned and replaced by her brother. He wondered if she truly loved her mate and if she ever truly loved him. He seriously needed to get it together. He needed more time. He would not attack the mansion tonight. Lucinda was what the Seer was to the prince: his life and his death. He still had plenty of time left to exact his vengeance.

Blind Salvation: Kennedy

Kennedy

Kennedy was not sure what to think. It was common for Marisol to do a drop in but this was a really inconvenient time. She had two vampires in the house and she definitely did not need any more complications. But then, she could not hide the excitement of her best friend being able to meet the man-well vampire- that had pretty much stolen her heart and saved her life in less than a week. Hubert barked in excitement as she opened the door and she could see the shadowy outline of her curvy friend. Marisol wore her hair “big” today: it was a wild, giant mass of dark tightly coiled curls that sat proudly on top of her head and surrounded an oval face, tanned skin, thin lips and a single dimple. Marisol leaned in for a hug and then stooped down to pet and rub the all too eager Hubert who panted and wagged his tail so hard that Kennedy was scarred he was going to tilt over.

“I tried to call you girlie,” Marisol chirped. “But you-who the hell is that you have hiding in your house?” Marisol all but swooned as she took in the full visual magnificence that made Damien, Damien. Kennedy turned to see him standing a few feet behind her, right at the entry of what was the living room. Of course what she saw was a shadowy outline but then, for just a second, she could see in color the most handsomely chiseled face grinning at her. And then there was those midnight blue eyes that stared straight into her, piercing more than just her heart, but the very fabric of her soul. And then it was back to shadows and outlines. She blinked twice.  “Well aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend Kennedy,” came that smooth velvety voice of his interrupting her thoughts. “Oh yes! I’m sorry,” Kennedy chuckled awkwardly. For a second, she could see clearly. She saw his face and lord he was beautiful and he wanted…her. She beckoned for him to come closer and he took her into a full embrace. “Marisol, this is-“ “Her mate” Damien replied before realizing that he used the wrong terminology. What did humans call each other? Marisol chuckled. ”Mate?” “He means uh, boyfriend,” Kennedy said trying to laugh it off. She would definitely have to school him on some common human vernacular and terms.

Marisol offered her hand for a shake, one in which Kennedy could tell Damien was reluctant to accept. “I was just stopping by to invite Kennedy over to my family’s place for dinner. Alejandro-“ Damien frowned and held Kennedy possessively at the mention of another man’s name. “Who is this Alejandro?” He heard himself say. Kennedy laughed. Marisol glanced at Kennedy awkwardly, giving her a puzzled expression. Kennedy simply shrugged. She had no idea why Marisol would bother to mention Alejandro’s name. She had no interest and never had any interest in dating her brother. He was a nice guy but… there was no chemistry there, well at least on her part. “Alejandro is my brother and he had asked me to stop by and see if Kennedy would come by,” Marisol said carefully. “My dad is cooking this time and he said he needs an unbiased connoisseur of his cooking to judge his ‘culinary mastery’-his words. Alejandro thought-“ “Well, she isn’t coming,” Damien said firmly. Kennedy gently released herself from Damien and softly placed her hand on his cheek, a gesture he welcomed wholeheartedly. “It’s ok Damien. I got this.” She turned to her friend who was glaring at Damien as if she wanted to give him a piece of her mind. “You know what Marisol? I can’t tonight. Damien and I were about to take off for the night-“ “Are you ok?” Marisol said, returning her heat seeking glare to Damien who offered her one back and she backed away to the door. “You know what mija? Just call me. I will tell my dad and Alejandro,” she said with more emphasis on the ‘dro,”that you had to do a rain check. I will save you a plate.” Marisol was out of the door before either Damien or Kennedy could reply. “That’s your best friend?” He said skeptically. “Hey, you did come off a little strong…” Kennedy said calmly. “And why would Alejandro-“ “Look, there is and will never be anything between me and Marisol’s brother. The man has always had a soft spot for me but I see him as nothing more than family.” Shaking her head and feeling a mixture of emotions that she was ill prepared to deal with. She needed to go back to why Damien had been in her room packing her things.

She inched her way past Damien and journeyed to her parent’s room to find the shadowy figure of Lucinda resting comfortably on her parent’s bed. “Has dinner left yet?” She said sarcastically. Kennedy just brushed her off. There was no way she was going to deal with that right now. Suddenly she felt overwhelmed and trapped. She could feel Damien’s presence behind her and even though she was annoyed with him, she could not stay upset with him. Spoiled prince. “Please don’t be angry with me,” he said apologetically. “I just don’t like the idea of another man being with you and enjoying your company.” She smiled. ‘It’s ok Damien. But try to chill. I don’t want her thinking that I am in a controlling relationship where I am being abused.” “I would never hurt you!” Damien exclaimed, outraged. “Well in a lot of human relationships, women sometimes find themselves in the presence of men who beat them, control them and just do horrific things to them.” “Damien would hurt himself before he hurts you,” Lucinda interjected. “And now that we have that established, Damien please take note that the sun will be setting soon and Rothbart has been parked outside of this house for God knows how long. We have to go.” “Who is Rothbart?” Kennedy asked. “Kennedy, before your friend rudely interrupted us I was about to inform you that a man, a threat to my kind has been spying on us.” Damien tried to explain. “Why?” “Because he is a Slayer and that is what he does,” Lucinda added, sounding as bored as ever. “I will take care of you. I promise.” Damien swore as he closed her suitcase. “So how do you plan on transporting her out of here?” Lucinda asked getting out of the bed. Damien frowned at Lucinda whom like always, smiled at him pleased with his response. “Damn it Lucinda! Can’t you at least be of some assistance?” Damien spat. “Call father. Have him send an escort. You can’t dematerialize you, her, the dog, or her things… and neither can I .”  Kennedy could feel Damien’s gaze and the subtle realization flooded her senses: Once she left this house, her life would never be the same. “Hubert! Leash!” she called to the retriever. She slipped on a pair of flip flops and Hubert hurried over to her with his leash. “Call whomever you have to call. We are ready to go.”

Blind Salvation: Damien…

Damien

Phaedra had spent the last thirty minutes digging into the family archives. The large room was a spacious as a mid-sized class room and filled with wall to wall volumes of books documenting the family’s history. The Draco Line, the name of his bloodline had been in existences for hundreds of thousands of years, extending well beyond the beginnings of humanity. The 17th century chandelier that hung 20 feet above their heads was the only supplier of light in the room. When she finally found what she was looking for, she glanced at Damien with a smile of victory and motioned for him to join her at the small woodened table that was the focal point of the room. The large, heavy book was thick with pages made from Egyptian papyrus leaves; an indicator of its antiquity and his mother carefully opened the book and gently flipped a few dozen pages before landing on the right page to begin her lesson. “Aha,” she said using her index finger to scan through the wording that was written in the Old Language. “Here we go,” she said. “Seers, the mystical peoples whose origins that tie them to the Neters of Kemet and the lands of Mesopotamia,” She read. “You see, your mate is of African ancestry,” She continued reading. Damien nodded, totally aware that his “mate” was black and had long dismissed what should never be considered an issue. Phaedra continued on: “They are to be approached with caution for their powers are many and great. They can see into the future, into the past and into the mysterious realms that we vampyr have yet to aspire to. Seers are mostly birthed as female, although there have been reports of males. They appear as blind or severely lacking in sight due to their strange colorless eyes, and some may be rendered unable to see into the physical realm with great clarity, which gives them greater power in the mystical and the spiritual. Their abilities rest primarily within the elements, some even able to call forth the weather to do as they please, but the most common element is fire. Seers are notoriously hunted by Slayers and Lycans alike for their gifts and are often deemed as a threat by Faeries whom are also gifted with the elements. Seers are not immortal but are close to it with life spans exceeding that of 1000 years. Seers make formidable opponents in battle when properly trained which is why it is of great importance that vampyr revere instead of fear them. The strongest gift possessed by a Seer is hiding in plain sight.” She closed the book. “So, that is it?” Damien inquired. “That is all the knowledge that we possess. The rest of the documentation focuses on the genealogy of the various Seers that have aided our family since the 2nd century A.D.. I had a Seer once when I was young, and your father’s closest confidante was a Seer. I did not like his confidante at first because I thought she was vying for my husband’s attentions,” Phaedra chuckled. “But, in the end she proved herself loyal until the day that she died.” “How did she die?” “Rothbart.”  Damien froze. “Father said that the Slayer was spotted in the area. Have you any word on that?”  “No, your father has not said anything more.” “Aren’t Slayers only destined to kill Night Stalkers?” “They are destined to destroy what their beliefs tell them to and Rothbart is hell bent on destroying anything that is not human. But enough about that,” Phaedra said quickly. “When do I get to meet your mate?” Damien smiled and rubbed his fingers through his raven colored hair;. “Soon. I have to be sure that father will not make an attempt on her life because of my refusal to marry Guinevere.” Phaedra sighed. “Your father will not kill her but he surely will not make her feel welcomed. Before you came he was working out an agreement with Stefan regarding the arrangements of your marriage to Guinevere.” Damien rolled his eyes at the mention of Stefan and Guinevere’s names. “Guinevere has been sick with grief and worry that you will not wed her because of your love for what she perceived to be human. The entire aristocracy is talking about it.” “I don’t give a rat’s ass about what a bunch of superficial pricks think.” Damien retorted. “I don’t either and neither does your father but he has to do something. But, you were wise in informing us about this particular Seer because now it changes things.” “How so?” “Your father’s law states that no vampire can wed a human; but your Seer is not fully human, which is a slight technicality that happens to work in your favor. You are free to be with this Seer.” Phaedra smiled triumphantly. “The only thing is unless your father replaces you with Lucinda to the throne, your mate will not be accepted as your mate and she will definitely not be accepted as Queen which means that you may still have to marry a vampire at least in writing to maintain your position.” “Fuck!” Damien slammed his fist on the table. “Do not fret my son you  still have time. I will work with your father to absolve the betrothal to Guinevere. Unfortunately this may come off as a snub to Stefan and his family and I am sure we will be met with some retaliation, but then again I do not think Guinevere wants to come face to face with Lucinda again.” For the first time, Damien could smile with relief as he felt the burdens that came with the throne were lifted from his shoulders. Thank the good lord above for his sister, his mother, the technicality in his favor, and the fact that Kennedy’s father was a Fae. He reached across the table and pulled his mother into a heartfelt embrace. She laughed in delight. “I have never seen you this happy,” she said displaying a toothy grin. “Oh you have no idea what this means mother,” he said. He kissed his mother on the cheek before releasing her. “Go to your mate son but the next time you return bring her with you!” Damien had dematerialized into the nothingness before Phaedra could finish her sentence.

It was well into the afternoon when Damien appeared at Kennedy’s door. He was enthusiastically greeted by Hubert when caught the same vague presence of evil close by. He locked the door behind and peered out of the window and noticed the same red Honda that had been parked off and on outside of her house for the last few days. He focused his sight on the driver and recognized him instantly. Rothbart! Using his vampire abilities he extended his senses beyond the interior of the house. Kennedy was upstairs talking to Lucinda. Good. Rothbart was up to something and whatever it was, he was going to have until nightfall to act. He needed to take Kennedy somewhere safe and get his sister back into the safety of the mansion. He could take Kennedy to the mansion too but then again, he would be putting her in possibly more danger-safe house. There was a safe house a few miles east that he could take her for a few days.

He dematerialized into the first level bedroom where Kennedy slept and where they had shared some of their fondest memories and searched her closet for a duffel bag. When he found none, he stumbled upon an old suitcase and made a mental note of how much he hated the color forest green. He popped open the suitcase and left it in the center of the room and went into various drawers of hers grabbing whatever he thought she would need for more than just a few days. Hell, after today she would never live in this house again. He must have been making so much noise that Lucinda called out to him from the doorway, looking completely puzzled. “What are you doing brother?” She asked, her arms folded tightly into her chest. “Look through the peephole of the front door. Rothbart.” He said not breaking his stride as he dumped more clothes into the suitcase. Lucinda’s eyes widened and in an instant she disappeared to the front door.

The suitcase was full.

Damien cursed. “I’ll just buy her whatever else she needs,” he mumbled to himself. Lucinda returned, her expression paled and those grey eyes of hers filled with disbelief and terror. “He is really here,” she whispered with emotion. “How long has been here?” “I have no idea,” Damien sighed. “Probably as long as I have been here…what is Kennedy doing?” “I’m right here Damien,” Kennedy said from behind Lucinda, still dressed in a pair of grey sweats, a white tank and her braids pulled back into a single braid, like his. He smiled at the sight. “Kennedy,” he said carefully. “You have to come with me for a few days…” “Uh, ok but may I ask why?” Kennedy said as she gently eased passed Lucinda who remained where she stood, but this time her eyes were focused and her head tilted as if she was listening for something. Damien heard it too, someone was approaching the door. Lucinda’s hands became like talons: their form extended to long, pointy and sharp; her eyes narrowed and her fangs retracted giving her the appearance of a living nightmare. Damien’s eyes narrowed too, until Hubert barked and Kennedy’s smile lit up and then came the voice that proved itself to be more than just a simple inconvenience. “Kennedy open up! It’s me Marisol!” Lucinda growled, Hubert barked once more and the love of his life chirped with excitement. “Oh my God I finally get to introduce you to my bestie!” Kennedy squealed and hurriedly moved past Lucinda without noticing the violent rage that bubbled through Lucinda’s veins like poison in a hot cauldron. “We do not have time to deal with another human Damien,” Lucinda said between clenched teeth. Damien sighed and shook his head. “I know…but this human just might be useful,” he added rubbing his jawline. “Can I eat her?” Lucinda gave Damien a wicked grin. He frowned. “No.” “You are absolutely no fun.” “Just suck your teeth in and retract your claws. This human is not blind…”

Blind Salvation Excerpt: Damien

Damien

Damien glanced back at the portrait of Kennedy seated between her parents and saw something shocking. Her mother had the same colorless eyes that were a classic feature of a Seer. He looked at Kennedy once more who was headed back down the stairs with Hubert. Kennedy didn’t know her mother suffered the same plight as her. He took one last look at her father. He was much darker than both of them; but he strong features, a broad pointed nose, big muscled shoulders, hazel green eyes…even while sitting he could tell her father was over six feet like himself but there was something else off. He stepped closer to the picture for a closer inspection and realized something: Kennedy’s father was not human, at least not all of the way. Behind that smile of his and within the rows of perfect white teeth was a pair of retractable daggers. Not vampire like his…but Fae. And judging by the way that Kennedy was all too comfortable around him and his sister-not that either of them would hurt her-but her parents had raised her in the dark. Literally. She had no idea who she was.

He watched her cautiously and slowly walk down the steps back onto the first floor. His woman was a Fae? Or at least part Fae? He had thought the species to be long extinct after the wars and there had been one; a successful one at that had thrived in the human world of Bridgewood? How could his family not have known? The Fae and vampires were not enemies-not exactly friends but not enemies. They were a peaceful people who proved themselves formidable against vampires and had their own abilities and skills that put a lot of supernatural creatures to shame. And her parents left her alone after raising her as a human…without giving her the tools to properly defend herself…if Damien had never showed up in her life…He shook his head at the thought. But, then he remembered from his early teachings that the Fae never left their young in the manner that her father left her…whether they were half breeds of Full Bloods the Fae were proud of their history which means that her father had to have been running from someone or something. And as for her mother, a Seer, he doubted she did not know what she was or what she could do. He scratched his head. He was going to do some digging around tonight.

“What is the matter dear brother,” Lucinda asked startling him out of his thoughts. She turned to face the portrait and jumped back in shock when she noticed Kennedy’s mother. “Her mother was a Seer too?” Damien shook his head. “How could she not know?” “I don’t know but I have an idea,” He said as he started for the stairs. “What? Do tell me dear brother.” Lucinda said excitedly as she followed behind him. “They were running from someone or something.” “From who?” “I don’t know but keep quiet. I think Kennedy is upset remembering her parents. The trip upstairs was hard on her.” Speaking in hushed tones, Damien convinced Lucinda to stay at the house with Kennedy. He instructed her to not mention anything about his discovery of Kennedy’s parentage, something Lucinda promised to not do.  He needed to go back to the mansion and confront his father.

He met Kennedy downstairs who was busying herself in the kitchen with making herself a sandwich. She had already gave Hubert some fresh food and by the slight grumbles from her stomach, he knew she was starving. “Does your sister like the rooms?” She asked as she slapped  some Miracle Whip on a slice of wheat bread. “Yes she does,” Damien said taking a seat on one of the bar stools. “How are you feeling?” She sighed, and then grabbed some sliced turkey from the container and folded it neatly onto the bread. “I guess I am alright. It’s just that…I don’t go upstairs much. It is has been five years since…” She grabbed a thin cutting knife from the drawer and then a tomato that she had lying on the counter to slice it. But instead of slicing her tomato, she sliced her finger. “Ouch! Damn it!” She cried out dropping the knife and rushing to the sink to clean the wound. Damien was on her in an instant and took her hand and without thinking, took her bleeding finger into his mouth. She gasped in shock and he trembled from the taste. Her blood was like a dark, rich wine of the finest age. She definitely was not 100% human. He moaned but then quickly caught himself and removed her finger out of his mouth and replaced it underneath the cool water from the sink. The wound was not deep but she definitely needed a band aid. “Stay right there,” he commanded as he darted off to the downstairs bathroom and searched the medicine cabinet for a box of band aids. He found them. In seconds he was back in the kitchen wrapping her finger and trying to figure out how he was going to explain himself.

“When was the last time you fed?” She asked interrupting his thoughts. “Uh….” The last thing he wanted to discuss with her was his eating habits. “When was the last time that you have fed? You do drink blood don’t you or is there something you are not telling me?” “I fed the night before…” he said not wanting to look at her. It was funny, here he was a Prince and an heir to the greatest throne in vampire bloodlines and never once in his 300 years of existence ever felt ashamed of his thirst. But, now as he stood facing the only woman he would ever love and the means to his existence and he could bear the thought of her knowing what he did. “Do you kill them?” She asked quietly. “Who?” “The victims…do you always kill them?” He cupped her face as she stared back at him, her eyes wide and searching…and again, straining. “Would you reject me if I told you yes?” He asked, finding himself fearing her response. “No. I would not…” She said. “Then yes, not because I do not value life but because I have to. If I don’t, they will come back as-“ “Night Stalkers.” She had become an expert at finishing his sentences. He smiled and placed a gentle kiss on the bridge of her nose.

With her finger on the mend, and her neck still packed down with healing herbs and her head still bandaged, he knew that there was so much more to Kennedy that needed to be explored. She was resilient and had she been vampire, his father would have without a doubt approved of her. He gathered her in close just for that familiar and his favorite scent of hers entered his nasal cavity and ignited his sense. Her valley was blossoming and readying itself for him. He growled. “Kennedy, you are determined to make me deflower you sooner than I intended…” He murmured into her ear. “No fair!” She said playfully pushing him away. “You and your extrasensory capabilities! How did you know I was…” “Horny?” His voice deepened into a low rumble. “I can smell it.” He stalked her into the corner by the door; she backed away, nervously anticipating what he was going to do to her, and loved every moment of it. He pinned her wrists to the wall and hoisted her up , wrapping her legs around his waist so that he could push himself into her, allowing her to feel what would always be ready and waiting for her. He hungrily took her mouth and with one hand gripping her firm yet juicy behind, and the other caressing her soft and supple skin underneath her tank top and…”Ahem!” He was not sure how long his sister had been standing there but he knew one thing was certain: he wanted Kennedy with a longing that surpassed all reason. Just like that smooth mocha brown skin of hers, her core was hot and judging by the ache in her voice she wanted him just as badly. He bared fangs at his sister for the interruption and carefully let Kennedy down. He kissed her neck-the other side of it of course and she flushed with slight embarrassment. Lucinda grinned from cheek to cheek and chuckled as Kennedy slipped passed her and into the bedroom.

“You ache for her badly brother,” She cooed. “Why the wait?” “I have only known her for three days and she is a virgin. I don’t want to pressure her into anything.” He grumbled as he leaned against the wall. “ At her age?” Lucinda said in disbelief. When Damien didn’t say anything she looked around to where Kennedy had been and said carefully, ”But the way that you keep invading her space like that she does not have a choice. She cannot resist you and your charms. No female can.” Damien sighed. “I don’t want her to see me as a monster…” Lucinda calmly approached her brother and gently laid a palm on his shoulder. “I do not believe that she does brother.”

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.