Tag: Vampire

Coming July 1, 2015: Viper

Coming July 1, 2015: Viper

Turned into a vampire at the age of 19 and forced into a life of darkness and violence , she is the reason why the gangsters, the murderers, and drug dealers fear the night…Working as a hired assassin for drug dealer turned record label founder, Rio Mendez, Viper is on a high stakes mission to bring down one of the biggest music industry moguls in the world-Lucas Barnes, the man responsible for turning her into a vampire and murdering her entire family right before her eyes twenty years ago. Relying on her wit and will power and with the help of some unlikely friends, Viper must uncover some hard truths before facing the entity that stripped away everything that she once loved.

Viper_Cover_for_Kindle

“I have more than nine lives you son of a bitch. I am coming for you.”-Viper

Another Excerpt of Viper ( 3 More Chapters to go)

Another Excerpt of Viper ( 3 More Chapters to go)

We make it to the inside of my warehouse successfully. However, I am drained to the point of exhaustion, leaving Michael responsible for loading her into her tank. She had started to wake up and slowly begun to uncoil herself, when Michael without any real effort tossed her over into the Olympic sized pool, large enough to make Shamu and his friends happy. I peered over into the glass and she seemed a bit confused as she thrashed about and swam in circles, and when she neared the glass, staring at me through the Plexiglass with idle curiosity. Her large black eyes staring straight through me before she opened her mouth to introduce me to a wide set of knifes for teeth. Forty feet of raw muscle is now swimming around in my holding pool. I am not worried about her slithering out, for with push of a button I can seal the top of the pool off.

I remain stretched out on the concrete flooring of the warehouse: 20,000 sq. feet of what used to be a metal processing plant. It cost me damn near a million dollars to renovate this place to my liking: a double level dungeon of pain and suffering and a habitat for my snake babies. Michael stands over me, surveying my version of paradise. “What the hell Viper? How many snakes do you have in here?” In row after row of snake tanks, varying in size and shape and placed on shelves specifically built for that purpose. “I don’t know…like 200 maybe?” I mumble, my brain trying to calculate exactly how many I have in my collection. “What the fuck did I get myself in to?” “Let’s see, I own a couple of King Cobras, a few water Moccasin’s also known as Cotton Mouths, uh.. a dozen diamond backs, a Boom Slang-which was quite difficult to acquire…a spitting cobra, I think three Taipan’s…about five or six Bush Master’s, ten Black Mambas’…” I continue to name what I could remember in my collection all to Michael’s dismay.

There is still a lot of daylight left surprisingly, and I have completely worn myself out. Too tired to feed or do much of anything else I pass out right in the middle of my warehouse. I awake to the vibration of my phone a few hours later. Damien had done his job and now I owed him. Michael has 300 years’ experience in warfare, bloodshed, and mayhem. But I can hope that his stomach is strong enough for what is about to take place next.

Michael offers me his vein and I accept it-from his wrist of course- and I do not take long to take what I need. He is always watching me with a quiet yearning, and as I can take him I can taste it in his blood. His blood is powerful, rich and laced with something that fuels every cell in my being. Flashes of memories from a past too distant for record, and in the mix of all of that, I see his face. I cannot wait for this conversation, to know about more about the man who kneels before me, offering me than just his vein, but his life. I owe him more than what he desires, and when all of this is said and done, I can rebuild a life that I had dedicated to darkness, into something guarded by the sun-with him…maybe. I seal his wound and close off all thoughts of a happy ending with Michael. I have work to do.

The sun has set, and after a few silent moments of both of us engaged in our own thoughts, there is a loud bang on the metal door, and of course screams of terror. I can recognize those screams anywhere. It’s Rio’s bitch ass, and he is not happy. I quickly slipped on a pair of black denim that I had brought along for the trip before opening the heavy door. In comes Damien, his mouth dripping with blood and flesh, dragging a very panicked Rio. His arms were tightly bound behind his back, as were his feet. Blood dripped from a huge gash on his forehead, his mouth swollen and his face bruised. His eyes widened when I came into view. “Hello there Rio,” I say calmly. “Long time no see. Did you like the renovations I made to your house?” “You stupid bitch! That is why I ordered you dead-“-“And you see how far that has gotten you. I am still here. So how have you been? Heard from C-Dollas?” He gasped at the realization that it is I whom was responsible. “You’re a muthafuckin’ psycho you know that?” “And you are a lying bitch of a man,” I say without emotion. Damien dumped him in the middle of the concrete floor, directly in front of the holding pool where Rosa swam around anxiously. She approached the side of the glass facing us, staring at Rio whose face grew paler by the minute. “What the fuck is that?” He stammered. “Oh,” I say casually piling my braids into a big bun. “I know how much you miss your homelands in Brazil, so I thought I would bring a little bit of that luster to you…That is Rosa. She is the legendary anaconda of the Amazon that is in fact the largest ever discovered. And guess what? She is all mine.” I smile, flashing my perfect pearly whites and Rio screams again in terror. “You are a sick bitch!” “Yes I am,” I declare proudly. “And you should have known better than to fuck with me Rio. How could you? You have been lying to me for twenty years! I trusted you-you of all people I trusted after everything that happened to me. I trusted you, I did all of your dirty work without question, often times with minimum pay…I killed your enemies, protected you…I am the reason why the streets feared you…and all this time you were under the thumb of the one vampire you pretended to hate so much.” “Vipe-Viper it wasn’t like that,” he stuttererd, struggling against the rope that held him tied. “It wasn’t like that…-“ “Well what was it like? Because your little friend C-Dollas told me everything-“ “C-Dollas was lying!” “Now, the man was many things, especially a liar, but I can smell a lie a million miles away. He didn’t lie. But even as death stares you straight in the face you still lie.” I turn to Damien whom was nervously pulling at what remaining skin he had on his hands and asked him to grab a chair from the back of the warehouse. Michael had disappeared and I could not blame him. This is going to be a long night.

When Rio is strapped in the leather office recliner, facing the holding pool where Rosa remained submerged in, it was time for some unanswered questions. “Rio, you are going to die in some shape or form tonight, “ I say standing in front of him and gazing deep into his eyes. His bald head had become glazed over in sweat, and the purple robe that Damien had drug him in apparently was his only article of clothing. Rio must have been entertaining a female guest when Damien burst in on him. What a surprise. “But how you die, depends on your level of truthfulness. Understand?” He nodded as a single tear slid down his cheek. “Now, let’s begin. I know that you have been working for Lucas for as long as I have been working with you, which means when we met you knew all there was to know about me before I told you. I know all about the Immortal Gene, what it means and now that it is activated, a part of me wishes to use you as a messenger to Lucas….” His eyes widened in surprise at the mention of the gene being activated. “How?” He asks, squirming in his seat. “Not going to tell you, but trust me I have done the research.” I continue. “Why did you leave town when I brought Kevin back after the attack in Miami?” Before he opens his mouth to answer I answer for him, slowly putting together the pieces. “Wait, let me guess: you were supposed to bring Kevin and I on a silver platter to Lucas. But you ended up having to hand only Kevin over, right?” He nods. He is telling the truth, good. “That was the whole purpose of my stint in Miami.” He nods again. “That night when we” (referring to Damien, Michael and myself), “attacked the hotel I had a brief encounter with Kevin and your sorry ass turned him into a werewolf. Why?” Rio took several deep breaths before answering. “Why Rio? If Kevin was supposed to be made vampire to act as Lucas’ second in command and you are under Lucas’ wing, why did you turn him into the one thing that vampires hate?” When he didn’t answer, I beckoned for Damien to come and the zombie-vamp’s eyes lit with excitement. Rio, in a fit of terror, spilled the beans on everything. “Lucas is trying to create a new breed of vampires. Since he couldn’t access the Immortal Gene he went with another option-werewolves. Kevin is to be the first of the experiments being done. He wants the ability to walk in the sun. Vampires can’t turn into werewolves if bitten, but if vampire saliva enters the blood stream of a werewolf, something happens-“ “What happens?” I demand, having some sort of a clue. I instantly remember the white werewolf with the blood dripping from its fangs. “They become vampire wolves, with all of the perks and abilities of both species, including the ability to walk in the sun. He is creating a serum that fuses both to inject in himself.” Now everything made sense. “And with you, C-Dollas, and whatever Lucas had going on with your record labels, it was all a plan to recruit new guinea pigs for this experiment. How successful has he been so far?’ “Viper please, let me walk away,” he pleaded. I can’t stand the sight of traitorous men who think it is fair that they beg for their lives when they have ruined the lives of many. “Let’s not do this Rio. You and I both know that cannot happen. You betrayed me, tried to have me killed in the Everglades by two werewolves, and you sent someone to my house-“ –“I didn’t send anyone to your house! I thought you were dead!” Well if he didn’t send someone, who the fuck did? “Since you won’t tell me how far he is in to his research, tell me this: where does Lucas lay his head?” “Why the fuck do you think I would know something like that?” “Because you know everything about everyone. Every mission you sent me on, you knew the victim’s address, telephone numbers, work numbers, the wife’s cell phone number, where their kids if they had any went to school, how much was in their bank accounts, and even the side bitches they were fucking when their wives or girlfriends were getting their hair and nails done! Don’t fucking play with me Rio! Where does Lucas Barnes lay his head?!” Without thinking I punch Rio hard in the jaw, cracking the bone and snapping his head back.

His head bobbles around in a daze, his mouth swelling even more. Michael appears out of nowhere looking like a million bucks as always and I really could do without his presence right now. Rio mumbles something unintelligible and I grab him by the shoulders and force him to look at me. “Rio, tell me where Lucas’ lair is.” “Lucas…Louisiana,” he struggles to spit out from a useless jaw.  Louisiana! That makes sense. The fucker has a soft spot for the state and that is where my adoptive family’s originates and where all of this bullshit started. “Where in Louisiana?” I demand. “He has a mansion, near the swamps and the mausoleum. That is all I know.” I know exactly where that is. My father used to visit Louisiana quite often  and he often spoke of one his private client’s estates-the mansion, and now I know which client and why.

I take once last look at Rio, and regret ever thinking for one second that he was my friend-or something close enough to it.  His head slumps to the side, his mouth agape and drooling uncontrollably. “You have two options,” I say stooping down to his eye level. “Option number one: I feed you to Ms. Rosa over there. She is starving and let’s just say she had a rough travel.” He struggled against the rope in a desperate attempt to escape, and Damien and I look on in amused delight. “Option number two,” I continue, “You have already met Damien.” I point to Damien, whom is standing next to me with a huge toothy grin, fangs fully extended and dripping with saliva. “Damien has been quite lonely for some time now since his maker met his unfortunate demise, and upon meeting you at the Hotel in Miami, Damien has taken an extreme liking to you.”  Rio takes one look at Damien and releases an ear piercing scream. “Well that is no way to treat someone who has a crush on you,” I scold making it clear that I am enjoying every second of this. “Viper please!” He begins to sob. Huge drops of tears stream down his faces as he begin praying in his foreign tongue. “Prayer is not going to save you Rio. So what will it be? You can spend the rest of your life as his bitch –“ I say pointing to Damien whom is rubbing his hands together greedily. “Or you can find yourself in Rosa’s starving belly. Now what will it be?” Rio continued to sob, and I almost felt bad for him. Almost. “You have ten seconds Rio otherwise I will decide for you…10, 9…” “You said you would give me the mate of my choosing and I choose him!” Damien exclaimed excitedly. Fuck it. I will have to find Rosa something else to eat before I send her back home. “Well, Rio consider this your lucky night. You will not find yourself in the pit of Rosa’s stomach, although personally that would have been my first choice. However, do not get too excited. When I turn you and you don’t transition into a zombie-vamp as Damien had become, you will still find yourself as Rosa’s date and Damien will be out of luck.” I turn to face Damien whom is prancing around with joy. “I cannot wait to taste your sweet dick in my mouth,” he coos, forcing Rio to dry heave over the side of where he was strapped. “Seriously Damien, I do not need to know about your plans. Whatever goes on between you two love birds is none of my business.” “Well before you turn him,” Damien said stroking himself through his torn scrubs. Michael frowns with disgust. “Fuck dude, take that shit elsewhere.” Rio fights against the robe to no avail. “You know what?” I say stretching. “I will leave you two alone. Hopefully, Damien doesn’t forget about how badly he wants you as a mate and kills you in the process.” I motion for Michael to follow me. “No! Wait!! Viper!! Nooooo!” Rio shrieks; his eye wide with terror as Damien continues to pleasure himself in front of him. Michael pushes the metal door, holding it open for me to walk through like the gentleman he is. I don’t even bother to face Rio. I simply call out behind me, “It won’t hurt so much if you actually allow yourself to enjoy it.” With that, Michael closes the door behind us, and thankfully my warehouse is sound proof. I had grown tired of listening to Rio scream.

Viper: Chapter Excerpt 2

Viper: Chapter Excerpt 2

Panic erupted the instant the entire building was left in darkness. Humans were scrambling to get the lights back on, running, and within seconds screams of terror echoed throughout the hotel. The sound of bones crunching, and the gurgling sounds from a victim choking on their own blood was a sign that Damien had materialized and begun feasting. The tension in the air exploded into full- fledged violence as werewolves transitioned, and vampires took full advantage of the confusion and snatched random humans from their seats and fed mercilessly. Rio surrounded himself with his bodyguards whom ushered him into a hasty retreat to the elevator, while Kevin was left unattended by his pack who were busy seeking and destroying feeding vampires. And through it all, Lucas and his entourage sat completely unbothered, seeming to enjoy the spectacle that this event had become…that is until a snarling werewolf charged in their direction, taking the head of one of Luca’s men, and disemboweling his female companion. The werewolf charged again, this time at Lucas, and with a movement to fast for a human eye, he dodged the advance and then without missing a beat snapped the wolf’s neck.

I reach for my specially calibrated 9mm once I have Lucas in my sight. Perfect. And without a second thought, I open fire on the very being that I hated with every ounce of my existence. The Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. I shoot three times, each bullet whizzing past the unintended at the speed of light toward their intended target. Like everyone else he heard the explosion of the gun, and turns in my direction, his eyes widening in recognition, a subtle slip in vulnerability, and one that I am going to take full advantage of. He flips out of the way, successfully avoiding the silver nitrate that fills the hollow points, sending my hallowed missles in the direction of another vampire consumed in bloodlust, and turning him into ash upon contact. I don’t bother to fire again because I cannot afford to lose another bullet, and Lucas leads me into a chase. I know that I just may be being led into a trap, but vengeance consumes me, and I follow in pursuit.

Gunshots ring out behind me as I follow Lucas up the emergency stairway. I hear Blondie call out my name as police sirens echo in the background. The snarls, howls, the tearing of flesh, the heightened and desperate pleas for help that fill the lobby are deafening. I should turn around. I should leave all of this alone….but as the memory of this sick son of bitch forcing himself into my mother’s body flooded my vision; vengeance reminds me of my purpose. Lucas Barnes was going to die by my hand one way or the other….even if I have to blow the whole goddamn hotel up just to make it happen.

The fucker dematerializes when I am all but a few feet behind him, and I abruptly come to a halt. Somewhere off in the distance, closing in is the sound of a helicopter. The roof! The motherfucker is on the goddamn roof! I dematerialize to the roof, where I find him boarding the helicopter without a care in the world. I wish I had a rocket launcher to blow that bitch clean out of the sky. He turns to face me as the copter ascends and blows me a kiss. “It has been years Nicole! My haven’t you changed? Well, it was great but I have some other businesses to attend, oh and one more thing…” One of his men pulled an unconscious body from the backseat and dangled the very familiar young man out so that I may see him. “I don’t know how you fit into any of this, but from what I have heard you have been a very busy vampire. You should come work for me.” “How about I just ram a spear up your ass and watch you choke on the handle?” I spit. He laughs heartily as if that was the best laugh he had in a long time. “You know you have changed?! You’re no longer that pathetic little girl I met that day your bitch ass father tried to run off with what was mine. And did I tell you that your mother’s pussy was the best I ever had?” I wish I could recall what happens next but I cannot. I black out. The last thing I remember is lunging onto the helicopter, and forcing my way inside. I suppose that is what he wanted to happen because I was punched square in the face by one of his henchmen. There is not much room in a four seater copter to do much damage, and I could hear his maniacal laughter in the background as I fought two of his men, werewolves with a vengeance. I managed to pull out my 9mm and shoot one in the face at point blank range, and it was a disgusting sight to watch his face literally melt off. “As much as I would like to catch up on old times, I have an empire to run. Tell Rio I will be seeing him soon,” Lucas says in the background as I bite a chunk out the neck of his second minion. I didn’t notice that he had been looming behind me until he grabbed me by my collar and yanked me out of the helicopter and into the air sending me on a 20,000 foot drop to what was likely a very painful death. As I began my plummet I realize that the young man was none other than Kevin. Fear, and something else I had not felt in over 20 years: remorse. As Kevin’s unconscious body continued to dangle outside of the helicopter’s doorway while the pilot guides it off into the horizon, I continue my descent.  I don’t even have time to poof myself out of midair because I hit the ground hard, like a meteor. I am instantly consumed with the agonizing pain of every bone in my body shattering on impact.

I failed you mommy.

I failed you Lindsay.

Daddy you can still kiss my ass.

Kevin, I am sorry.

I welcome the darkness that surrounds me, and I hope that I am not awakened to the fiery pits of hell and brimstone.

Viper: Chapter Excerpt

Chapter Six

After several attempts to reach Rio by phone, I run to the guest room where Kevin had taken refuge, phone, wallet and box in hand. The door was locked, no surprise there so I break the knob clean off and push the door open. He jumps off of the bed in shock and disbelief. “Ay man, what the fuck are you doing?” I hand him his wallet, and his phone, and shove the box in his hands. I am not sure if I have enough energy to do this (and I pray that I can bring this man out in one piece), and grab him by his shoulders and dematerialize without a second thought. He screams his lungs as I drag him through the molecules, and because I am traveling with more than just myself I struggle to maintain that form as we move at almost light speed back to California. The fact that this man is nearly twice my size in weight, not to mention the stress of knowing that someone has located us and was bold enough to flex a move, mixed with Kevin just acting like a straight up pussy, I barely manage to poof us to back to Rio’s townhome in Baldwin Hills.

We collapse in a heap on the manicured lawn, and I can feel the slight tingle and burn of the sun’s rays cresting over the horizon. I have less than forty minutes to find Rio and get myself to safety. There was also the slight complication that I need to feed. I tried to be patient and give the man a minute to orient himself, but as he blinked several times at me like a blind man given his sight for the first time, I picked him up the collar and drug him to the front door, where we were greeted by his personal guard. With the sun’s rays less than an hour from burning me to a crisp and knock both men down, and force my way through, dragging Kevin with me. The house goes into an uproar, I find myself and Kevin surrounded with guns drawn, and with the surge of adrenaline building, I eye the thick blue-green vein pulsating in the broad neck of the white body guard that was built like a brick house.  He will definitely do.  Just as the shit is about to get real with every last one of the men (except for Kevin) becoming a part of my breakfast, Rio comes strutting down the stairs, dressed in a black silk robe followed by a woman who was a least ten years his junior following behind in a similar garb. His face is beet red, and his nostrils flare and as I watch every muscle in jaw flinch in anger, I wonder if he will ever have enough nerve to drive a stake through my heart.

“What the fuck are you doing here?!” He roars, bypassing his men and leaving his plaything for the night at the base of the stairs. “Are you fucking insane? He is supposed to be In Miami! He has a show tonight and two nights from now, he has a meeting with the press!” “Well if you had not been so concerned with getting your dick sucked you would have answered my calls,” I retort sharply. I turn towards Kevin, whom was standing a little too close for comfort next to me, and ask for the box. “Someone was kind enough to send us not only his cell phone and his wallet, but the eye of his road manager.” Kevin inhales sharply upon receiving word of his manager and what I could assume long time friend’s demise. His sudden grief saturated the air, with a heavy, dewy scent and although not much moves me anymore I motioned for Rio to let Kevin pass and find solace in another area of the house while we discussed what needed to be discussed.

Once Kevin was out of sight, I hand the box over to Rio and he reluctantly accepts it. Once he opens it, the smell of the decaying contents was enough to make him toss it to the side, nearest the stairwell. He smoothed his broad hands over his bald head, his shoulders slumped in defeat. He motioned for his guards to take refuge elsewhere and then beckoned for me to follow. His little play thing decided that she should come too, but was quickly reprimanded and sent right back to where she belonged: the bedroom. He led me to his office where most, if not all of our arguments have taken place, and closing the door behind me, he plopped down on the cream colored sofa, his robe sliding up his thighs and bunching into his more “private regions”. I really wish the man had put some pants on at least. We are close, but we are not that close.

“What happened?” He finally said through clenched teeth, and once I gave him the rundown, his expression grew more serious by the minute.  When I was done, he got up and punched a hole in the wall facing the sofa.  “This is all the way around fucked up.” He said with a hint of exhaustion. “I know.” I say nodding my head. “I don’t have many options left Viper.” He adds softly. “I know.” He sighs and moves over to his desk, and reaches into the bottom drawer and pulls out a .45 and several hallow points and took a seat on the leather office chair, and stares at me intently from behind the desk. “This could be the work of C Dollas. I have not spoken to him, haven’t been able to reach him…” “C Dollas works for Lucas,” I anxiously reply as I march over closer to his desk. He looks at me in disbelief, and to be honest, I could not believe it myself. But whatever Lucas was up to, it was something big because C Dollas was no rookie in the industry or in the streets. “I found out that one of the promoters from the Kevin’s former record label invited Kevin and his crew to the mansion. C Dollas doesn’t deal with anybody that he is not in cahoots with.” “Maaaaaaaan Viper…goddamn!” He groans, massaging his temples. “Cancel the press conference,” I say firmly. “Send out a statement stating that it did not work out between you two professionally and you are hereby releasing him from his contract. Therefore, to most of the other record labels would see him as a free agent…or better yet tell the media that Kevin has opted to go independent, and in the mean time we can quickly stage a dummy record label under his name to give the world the impression that he is in fact independent.” I hold my breath as I let my suggestion sink in. “I don’t know Viper,” he said warily. “Neither Lucas nor C Dollas is gonna buy that. When I found Kevin he was completely broke and on the brink of eviction from his landlord.” “For all they know Kevin could have been stashing whatever money he was paid…” “And what exactly is that going to do?” “Buy us, better yet ME some time.” He stares at me with a mixture of defeat, regret, confusion and something else I cannot exactly pinpoint. “You know what Viper,” he begins slowly. “I told you that I wanted to retire. I am tired of all this street shit and even when I was really at the top of my game, I ran my organization with a plan: to leave it for the next man hungry for a come up and start my label and go legit. I think I have done more than my fair share of making good on my word: I gave you Lucas’ brother. I fucking handed him to you on a silver fucking platter and you still bring this bullshit to my door. Look, I tried to convince you to just in some shape or form to move on, but since you insist on embarking on this suicidal plan that is going to not only get you killed, but Kevin killed too, I don’t want any more parts of it.”  The long silence that followed as I processed every single word that this selfish and greedy former Brazilian kingpin had to say and if it wasn’t for the that blasted sun I would have- “I have to go Rio,” I say urgently. “The sun is rising which means you have 12 hours to figure out what the hell you are going to do. You are in this shit as deeply as I am and for all of the bodies that I have drained, murders I have cleaned up, men whose lives I have ended on your behalf, I would have thought that your balls would have been a bit bigger at least on the strength of loyalty. But I see, loyalties like people change. Good day Rio.” With that I dematerialized myself back to my Hollywood apartment, unfortunately leaving Kevin alone with Rio to sort out the mess.

If Rio is thinking what I know he is thinking, then he will have more than one reason to fear the night.

http://septembershope.wix.com/author-delizhia

NEW WIP: VIPER

NEW WIP: VIPER

I only have one rule: don’t touch me.

There is only one man I have and will ever listen to, and that is my boss Rio. And for the record, he is only my boss because I allow him to be. He promised me he would help me get revenge on the CEO and founder of Drug Money Records/mob boss Lucas Barnes, in exchange for my services as his body guard and hired assassin. I have no problems with death. As a matter of fact I thrive in it: it is in that cloud of darkness that I find myself at my best. I have not only tasted death, I have devoured it, bathed in it and now I am one with it. I am the Grim Reaper.

Once I have accomplished my mission of watching Lucas choke on his own innards after impaling him on a nine foot stake surrounded by my infamous pitt vipers, I am exiting stage left of this cursed life that was forced upon me 20 years ago, and maybe, God will have mercy on me and grant me the peace that I desperately need and deserve. Lucas Barnes is my end game.

They call me Viper, but in the shadows I am recognized as the Pitt Assassin for reasons that you will come to understand in due time. I am a goddamn myth in these streets. I am the reasons why hustlers and gangsters alike fear the silence of the dead of the night, why the slightest bristle in the wind forces them to shoot their own body guards in a nervous panic. I hunt them just like they hunt those that they prey on: the weak and the desperate. I do what I will with them and then I feed them to my pet vipers.

I hate what I do, the reasons why I do what I do; I hate what I am and most importantly, I hate the man who did this to me. So let me reintroduce myself to you: They call me Viper. I am an assassin. And I am a vampire. My maker: Lucas Barnes. My mission: kill Lucas and everyone he has ties with and put an end to a tragic story that should have ended 20 years ago.

He raped my mother.

He killed my father.

He killed my sister.

He killed my mother.

He made me watch.

And then he turned me into a monster.

If it is a monster he wants, then it is a monster he gets. And whatever you do, don’t get in my way.

For more excerpts please check out my website at: http://septembershope.wix.com/author-delizhia

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: 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.