Well, its time for a LONG OVERDUE update of the series. The first book of this series was published 11 years ago. Can you BELIEVE that? 11 years ago?! It has survived a multitude of my personal ups and downs, but you know what? It’s still here.
So let me get on with the reveal. Each book in the series will be getting a NEW look and interior. Just, stay tuned.
Cullman Alabama, known for hosting one of the oldest strawberry festivals in the United States, its sweet potatoes and overall southern charm, lies an abysmally dark secret that only memories from the past can recall. As a historically known Sundown Town [a community that excluded Black people from simply existing through laws, policies and threats (even acts of) violence, Cullman, Alabama was the furthest place from her mind before Andrea received the call that would drastically change her life. When Andrea and her two best friends, Divine and Kelly take a road trip from California to Alabama, not only are the thick tendrils of racism still prevalent, but there is something insidiously sinister and dark, leaving a deadly mark on the city’s residents. Moses told himself this would be his last mission and then he and his wife Cassandra were done. Finished. After this, he would leave vampire hunting to the younger cats who had nothing to lose but everything to gain. As far as Moses – also known as Mo’- was concerned, they were going to cash out on this final hunt and go live out their golden years on a beach somewhere in the South Pacific. However, something in his gut told him that this wouldn’t be an ordinary vampire hunt. Too many black folks- especially kids – were coming up missing. And as the Sundown town that he knew the city of Cullman to be, Moses understood that there was more than one way for a black person to die… especially if the unfortunate soul was not home before the streetlights came on. Cady never considered to Grams to be crazy, but she also didn’t consider her as sane either. But, despite the mojo bags, blessed charms and daily ancestral rituals, Grams stood as a pillar of the community. And with the recent uptick of missing black kids and adults, Cady would soon realize that everything her grandmother had taught her would become a powerful weapon for the survival of their community.
Coming 6/19/2027
The next individual I call is someone I wouldn’t even fuck if I was blind. The decrepit motherfucker is some sick combination of everything that could go supernaturally wrong on top of being the result of a fucked up science experiment. Damien. He is a flesh eating vampire, the only one I have ever encountered and one I would have no trouble leaving in the sun to rot. I had heard of horror stories involving victims being allergic to vampire venom and instead of transitioning from human to vampire without losing much of our original physical appearances, these victims transition from human to Igor with fangs and a penchant for human flesh. Not only will they drain a victim dry but they will pick the bones clean of flesh. They are the absolute worse and a threat to vampire survivability and their makers have to control them, otherwise civilization will cease to exist. Damien is an expert at hiding in the shadows, which makes him very difficult to locate considering that his maker was killed ten years ago by another vampire. I am not sure over what, and Damien is not much of a talker so that will always be a mystery to me. He owes me in the sense that since his maker has died, I had made it a point to check on him from time to time to make sure that he is clean with his kills, and by clean I mean that that shit does not hit the news. He will be useful in the event of a confrontation with werewolves and tracking Lucas.
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.
“I have more than nine lives you son of a bitch. I am coming for you.”-Viper
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.
Molecular travel gives me an interesting advantage. I get to see shit that I don’t want to see, and I get to see shit that is beneficial to me, and not one of the humans that bypass is none the wiser. Somewhere in these walls Michael was on lock down with two or three other criminals awaiting trial. I bypass several other officers underneath the bright lighting of the hospital sterile hallway and on the elevator. I can sense the presence of a non-human entity, and the most I can do is remain hopeful that it is Michael and not something else. Werewolves had the most advantage when it comes to blending in with humans because they are human-until they shift, but for the most part they can live pretty normal lives without having their jobs or relationships impacted. It would not surprise me if I came across a werewolf who happened to be a cop or some other jail house worker. My main concern is though I remain undetected in this state of invisibility, a wolf can sense me without ever having to see me, and I do not need a physical encounter with a known enemy.
I continue moving through the airwaves, navigating the second and third floors, eavesdropping on what was supposed to be private but non work related conversations, and ignoring the various combinations of blood scents and my increasing thirst. How I would love to sink my teeth into the neck on one of these hot blooded and self righteous cops…as soon as my thoughts shift to my more basic needs, I catch Michael’s scent just down the hall in one of the many locked cells that contained men awaiting their day in court. A custody assistant is locking the cell containing an inmate clearly high off of some sort of hallucinogen. I can smell the toxin coursing its way through his veins, pumping straight into his heart and forcing its way to his brain. He reeks of a sour, musty odor, evidence of his lack of personal hygiene; his eyes are wide and wild with confusion and panic; and he glanced over in my direction, where I hovered in molecular form and screamed in terror. The officer, a white man in his early thirties with a receding hair line, looking slightly unnerved shoved the inmate inside and locked the door, before hurrying off to put in some much needed space between himself and the drug addict. In the room next to him sat Michael, along with two other roommates who seem to be more concerned with their personal issues rather than the excitement that had taken place right outside of their door.
Michael senses my presence because he glances up from the cot on which he sat, solemnly with his hands folded in his lap. He looks across from him on the bunk beds, where a wannabe hardened thug lay spread eagled on the top bunk, in his oversized orange jump suit and unkempt afro, and then on the bottom bunk sat a preppy looking white kid, no older than 22 with that Justin Bieber styled hair and scrawny body. I hope that Michael has sense enough to not alert his two best friends that there was another presence close by, and thankfully he doesn’t as he returns his gaze back to his folded hands. Just outside his door is an air vent. Perfect. I can slip in through the vent and into his cell, feed and then dematerialize both of us out of this shit hole without a second thought.
Once inside the vent, for dramatic purposes I filter myself out as a mist, and creating a set of bewildered looks from the two wannabe’s. I only do this when I have a particular man of wealth and power and who is use to extending his hands as if he is a living persona of godhood, and I need him to know that he is not in control: I am. It is a perfect method in creating an atmosphere of terror, and I love the kick that adrenaline gives me. I filter out of the vent in a cool white mist, like the morning fog that blankets the busy city streets into my solid form and then as usual…all hell breaks loose. Why can’t things just run smoothly for me?
The wannabe thug screams like a little bitch, and in a flash I silence him with a snap to his neck. The prep turns a ghostly white, his blue eyes wide like a deer caught in some headlights, and without thinking I snatch him in a vicelike grip and sink my fangs into his throat in a cobra like strike. Michael watches with an amused sort of curiosity, yet I am too consumed in the richness of this young man’s warm blood as it fills my belly and calms my thirst. The fire in my throat is gone, and the muscle cramps in my gut have eased. Now I can focus.
Several officers obviously heard the commotion and came rounding the corner like a heard of buffalo. I break the handle to the door and motion for Michael to follow me. I don’t have time to clean up after myself so I grab Preppy’s body and sling it over my shoulder for future disposal. In my twenty years of living my life in the shadows, I have yet to create any progeny of my own and I am not about to now. We are greeted by at least five officers, two of which are on their walkies demanding back up, the other three with their guns drawn. Michael, who happens to be standing to my left takes a fighter’s stance, which instantly pissed me off. He should have done that shit prior to his arrest. “Freeze! Don’t move!” An older, more seasoned officer commands; his knees bent and his heart rate steady. I glare at him, and use my will to force him into submission. The other officers glance at each other uneasily and one even takes a step back. “Don’t move!” Another commands boldly. I maintain my focus on the seasoned officer, my will crushing his psyche, twisting the very confounds of his mind until he buckles from the mental pressure. I tighten my hold, bending his will until it snaps and he cries out in agony. I crack his cranium without having to move anything but my will. He drops to the floor sobbing, his ears bleeding, his peers rush to his aid, and another one shoots. I step to the side, barely dodging the bullet that had my name on it, and in a blur too quick for the human eye, I decapitate all five officers. The inmates scream in terror, their cries echoing throughout the halls in a chorus of fear. I gotta get out of here before more reinforcements come, and I can hear their heavy hurried and desperate movements scattering about the halls. I grab hold of Michael and dematerialize all three of us (if you count Preppy’s dead and drained body) to the one room dungeon where Damien had stood guard over my unconscious body.
And thank God he wasn’t there.
It takes a lot to impress a reader such as myself. It takes a lot to convince me to try something new; to give an author whom I have yet to discover a chance at becoming a permanent fixture on my bookshelf. But Ms. Cage is something different. She is fearless; she takes her readers on a journey, and once that journey is complete, she leaves you begging for more. From mermaids to vampires, to werewolves, she is unstoppable and I am anxious to see what else she has up her sleeve. So with that being said, Jessica Cage is my Author of the Month. And please check out her books that are posted below and dont be afraid to stop by her Facebook page to say hello.
https://www.facebook.com/jessica.cageauthor?fref=tl_fr_box&pnref=lhc.friends
Viper….
I take my time dematerializing to Miami. I stop along the way in a few cities including Dallas, Texas, Baton Rouge, Louisiana, and then finally Myrtle Beach, North Carolina to feed. There is no way I am depleting my energy resources all at once especially not knowing what type of dangers I will be facing. I feasted on a young hustler whom was busy getting his dick sucked in the alley by what I would assume to be one of his clients, followed by an under dressed woman with bullying tendencies at one of Louisiana’s local bars, and then finished off with a police officer who busy doing everything else but protecting and serving. And three hours later I was back in front of the same snobby hotel that Rio had set me and Kevin to.
I can’t pick up Kevin’s scent anywhere, or Rio’s musky scent. I check my phone and search my email for the itinerary, and Kevin is scheduled to perform at a very popular strip club called King of Diamonds. I hate strippers. I hate strip clubs. The only good stripper is a stripper writhing underneath my grip as I tear out his or her throat. The smell of sex, money, greed, lust, lies, deceit…irritate the fuck out of me. Not that I am a saint. I probably have a first class seat in hell (if there is such a place) with my name on it. But I am full, and I have a mission to accomplish. Besides, places like strip clubs, night clubs and bars are swarming with vampires, werewolves, and other beings that I don’t fuck with.
I flag down a cab, and the driver is a middle aged and disgustingly overweight bag of human filth and disease. Even if I were dying of thirst I would never sink my teeth into that living sack of puss. The only reason why I am inside this piece of shit called a cab is because I have no clue where King of Diamonds is actually located, and I do not have the patience or the time to try to figure it out. I have been inside many strip clubs, but this would be my first experience at King of Diamonds. This is going to be very, very interesting.
The sack of puss attempted to engage me in unnecessary conversation, but after delivering a glare that should have killed him, he resumed his drive, which was less than 30 minutes from where he picked me up at. I gave him his ridiculously high fare and no tip, and he skirted off into the night. The club was packed, there was a line wrapped around the corner to get in. Every hustler with a few dollars in his pocket to spend, every rapper that happened to be in the area, women of all colors and body types and barely dressed came out to support Kevin…and of the course the silicone fused strippers. I will give King of Diamonds its props, however. The strippers were of high caliber since this was no ordinary strip joint found in shadier parts of the city. No, this was where real ballers came to play, and one was spending a few thousand on a round of top shelf liquor, then that he should just stay home. King of Diamonds is not a place for rookie hustlers even though many tried to get in.
Fortunately, I did not need to worry about getting passed the bouncer. I dematerialized inside the building. The interior was built similar to that of a stadium, circular seating surrounding an actual boxing ring where I guess the contests ranging from twerking, to advanced forms of stripping took place. I stick to the shadows, avoiding eye contact with the vast array of men seated nearest the bar area. The scents that clouded the atmosphere were intoxicating, mixture of blood types laced with variant levels of liquor, drugs and hormones. I also picked up the all too familiar scents of older vampires lurking around looking for their next meal, and there was something else that I could not quite figure out….the scent was vague, yet heavy enough for me to pick up, and awfully thick. It made the saliva in my mouth thicken and my fangs lengthen, and my body tensed as if preparing for a fight and then the realization slammed right into me: werewolf.
Great. Exactly what I needed at a time like this. Why the hell was a goddamn werewolf in King of Diamonds in the presence of several and very old vampires? Something was not right and now was not the time for me to find out. Moving past the bar I near the VIP section, and nothing but ass and tits bounced near and around me. One stripper sashayed past me and gave me a look that was clearly an invitation for some fun, and I ignored her. Even though I do not do men, I don’t do chicks either and I am not about to now. She looked surprised but my rude decline but just as quickly found her someone who was more than happy to accept whatever it was she offered. Several women ranging from tall and busty to short and curvy bypassed me and asked if I needed something, but this time I was forced to lie and say I was waiting for someone otherwise I would have drawn unwanted attention to myself.
I found an empty table nearest an exit and took a seat. Still no sign of Kevin or Rio. I glanced at the flyer that was lying on the table, and it confirmed that he is definitely performing tonight. As I read the flyer, a dark entity crept up next to me and took a seat. Another vampire, and an old one at that. She was dressed in dark blue business attire, with creamy white skin with peachy undertones, blonde hair piled neatly on top of her head in a bun and green eyes that eyed me with a delighted curiosity. She smiled and said, “Wrong night for a baby vampire to be out alone. Where is your maker darling?” I glared at her. “And why should that be any of your concern?” “Normally, I don’t entertain younger vamps but you my dear intrigue me. And those that intrigue me get a warning.” She smiled once more, but this time showing me a fine set of lengthy and sharp fangs. “Whatever you are here for, drop it and leave. All of these people are dead, they just don’t know it yet.” “What the fuck are you talking about?” I lean in closer to her, listening intently to what she has to say. As much as I would like to run a stake through her heart, I know that I have to listen. She chuckles to herself as if what she is about to tell me is a joke, and she motions for a server, a short haired and thickly built young woman dressed in nothing but a thong and some heels struts over to our table carrying a trey with liquor filled cups. “Thank you so much darling,” the vampire said taking a drink and seductively eyeing the stripper. The stripper winked at her and quickly left to attend to the other patrons. “Tonight is the annual blood fest. That is why I asked you about your maker because this blood fest started half a century ago taking place in business establishments that sell sex, liquor and drugs. KOD is the perfect setting for such a feast, and all of the more seasoned vampires know about it….” She leaned in closer and added in a whisper, “And babies are not allowed unless by invite.” She sat back to watch my expression as the energy in the building darkened. More “seasoned” vamps had entered the premises. I sigh and then lean in towards her, beckoning for her to lean in closer as I say, “So if there is supposed to be a blood fest,” I whisper. “Then why the fuck is a werewolf here?” Her eyes widened as she glanced around nervously. “Where?” She asked anxiously. “I caught the scent when I first entered and I can still smell it. You don’t?” She inhaled deeply and the center of her irises illuminated a soft red glow. Translation: Get the fuck out of here. She got up quickly and with a speed that clearly wasn’t human and disappeared into the crowd.
Vampires don’t fuck with werewolves. Ever. I was still a newly turned vampire right after Rio found me when I got into a fight with a werewolf. He was older than me by twenty years, and had Lucas been decent enough to properly school me on the life of a vampire, he would have told me that werewolves were no joke and the only threat to a vampire’s existence. I fought him with everything I had but the bastard was stronger, faster, and much more experienced and if it wasn’t for another vampire who had watched the whole thing take place, I would not be here. It took two of us to kill the fucker, and once it was done the vampire informed me that a bite from a werewolf is lethal to our kind and that they are our natural enemies. He told me that my best bet to deal with a werewolf is to run like hell, because once they have one of us in their sights a fight is imminent.
I don’t blame blondie for leaving. Once I became aware of its presence I wanted to leave too, but unfortunately, duty calls.
I could simply leave both of these foolish men to die gruesome deaths on general principal for fucking me over. Rio already had it coming, and Kevin probably just on association…But in all real honesty I need Kevin to track down Lucas. Or to at least draw him out of whatever hell hole he was hiding in.
A light skinned stripper with long mermaid like weave, with thick legs and more than bountiful assets stepped into the arena taking center stage. The guy dressed as a referee came out and introduced her as “Candy Cane”. The crowd went nuts, as she demonstrated showmanship by parading out in front of the crowd dressed in a red and white bikini, courtesy of her nickname when one of Kevin’s songs came on called “The Trap”. The audience cheered, and even the strippers that worked the crowd became hyped over the heavy, slow bass of this popular song. She gyrated and clapped her ass cheeks together and then whined her way down to a perfect split before tossing away the top. Several ballers who had the ring side seats rained thousands of dollars on her as she continued to put on a show. As the song winded down I caught Kevin’s scent somewhere off in the crowd nearest the stage. I guess the stripper was his introduction.
Once she was off the stage, the referee was met with the promoter of the club to introduce the performer. The promoter, a muscled Latino with perfectly bronzed skin and arched eyebrows stepped into the forefront, dressed in denim, a jean jacket and a Polo took the mic and yelled into the crowd, “Ladies and Fellas it is my pleasure to introduce to you my friend who is also one of the greatest up and comers in the game to the stage. Ladies hold your panties, Fellas hold your drinks. Please give it up for my boy, Kevin Baaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrrrrnnnnnnnneeeeeeessssssss!” Kevin struts up into the boxing ring looking as if just the other night never happened and he was still signed to his brother’s record label. He takes the mic and scans the crowd and smiles like a little boy in a candy store as the stripper struts by him and plants a kiss on the cheek. He playfully slaps her on the ass, which for some reason makes me want to kill him more, and then cues the DJ to drop the beat.
The audience is captivated by his lyrical flow, the content based around his life in New York and how his father left a legacy shrouded in fear and pain. I had to give it to him, he was good but time was of essence. I slipped closer to the front, receiving a few hateful glances from patrons who actually paid to sit where they were seated. I did not see Rio, but I could sense his presence just beyond the ring. I also had the displeasure of sensing the very close presence of the werewolf who had called in reinforcements because just three rows ahead of me I detected three more, all male and looking more than ready for a fight.
Kevin breaks into another song that is just as hyped, and the strippers lost their ever lovin’ minds. Lap dances ran rampant, thongs and skimpy tops came off. The liquor kept coming and so did other things…I wasn’t sure exactly how I was going to make it past the three werewolves. Clearly these entities were hired because whoever the owner was knew about the yearly blood fest and was taking protective measures. Why vampires would be this sloppy is beyond me. As the song concluded, all hell started to break loose. One of the patrons got a little too hostile over a stripper paying too much attention to another paying customer and started an argument with the other customer, bringing attention from the werewolves. That was my cue to disappear behind the ring and make my way into the “Employees Only” entryway.
Once my heart rate normalized, I followed the scents and sounds that filtered down the corridors. Thankfully the halls were empty, but the sound of my boots slamming against the linoleum floor did not help my cause. I dematerialize and ride the airwaves, searching the halls until I come across Kevin’s dressing room, and guess who is inside? Rio. I materialize inside and the man is not very happy to see me. He was in the middle of entertaining another one of his associates in the spacious room, and for me to magically appear out of thin air sent him over the edge. His associate turns ghastly white at my appearance, and just for show, I smile at him with lengthy fangs on full display. Both one of them seemed to know what to say, and quite frankly it would be better for them to not say one mumbling word.
I should kill both of them. No. I should kill the middle aged acquaintance of his and make him watch. As I deliberate on what would be my best course of torturous action, I caught the associate hit a button on his phone, and I knew right then he activated a call for security. “Son of a bitch,” I growl as I snatch him and toss him to the other side of the room like an old shoe and I grab Rio and dematerialize. His screams could be heard echoing throughout the halls but I get him outside of the club and into the safety of the dark parking lot. I drop him onto the pavement as I take form. He attempts to scamper away but stomp my foot down on his leg, stopping him right in his tracks. His fear spiked the air with an intoxicating smell that triggered a very familiar hunger despite the fact that I am already well fed. I lower my fangs to intensify his fear. Yes Rio, you have absolutely and positively without a doubt fucked up, I think to myself. I should drag his ass back to my storage facility and force him to pick his own snake. Too bad my Anaconda had not reached maturity for me figure out if constrictors were capable of swallowing a human. I find myself completely lost in my own sadistic thoughts that I don’t even hear them coming.
Someone nailed me in the back with 6000 volts of electricity that made me forget that I am a vampire with unlimited strengths and abilities. The last thing I remember as I hit the ground was Rio’s face smiling in relief.
I have more than nine lives you son of a bitch. I am coming for you.
Lucinda
Lucinda could not stop the tears from falling as she recanted the days when she had first taken a sip from the cup of true love; and what a sweet, addicting taste it was. Better than blood. The night that she had met Rothbart had changed her world forever; and despite all that she had been through she would gladly relive those moments again, even for just a short while so that she may remember what it was like to have her own slice of heaven. She had just been crowned future queen; her parents just having concluded one of the grandest balls in her honor featuring the most prestigious vampires from across the globe to offer their tribute. She was the bell of the ball so to speak, the envy of every vampire female and the object of every male vampire hoping to make a name for himself and claim a seat of power. Lucinda, daughter of Hadrian the Great and his darling wife Phaedra of the Draco line, was to be the first and only to be named Queen without a male consort or a king. It was a first of blooded royals, and Hadrian would have it no other way. She had proved herself fit and capable to rule over the Draco line with fairness and brutality (if needed); she was fearless, strong, intelligent and strikingly beautiful. She was the eldest of her siblings, Damien barely being what humans would consider a teenager at the time and it would centuries before he became the male that the line would need to rule; and she commanded attention in the same manner her father: without effort. Life could have not been any better. She was a true celebrity of her time and it was during this time when she would have to choose what was more important: love or her family.
She had just dined on an aging man of middle class status and was parading down the dark foggy streets of London in one of the sapphire blue, silk gowns that covered the shoulders yet made a V shaped dip deep into her bosom before curving around the rest of her luscious body all the way down to her ankles. It was of course the 15th Century, a time that in her mind remains the highest peak of humanity, and of course she was barefoot, but who would dare notice at such a time in the darkest hour of night? She was sated, excited about her future and the plans she had for the direction she planned on taking her family in. She planned on going on the offensive with the Slayers; they would become the hunted until each and every last one of their heads were mounted on her bedchamber’s wall. She planned on seeking and rooting out the last known remaining werewolf clans and subjecting them back under vampire rule; but not before she successfully aligned her family with the most powerful wizard of the time: Merlin.
She had been frolicking childishly along, lost in her own thoughts and schemes when she noticed a man trailing behind her, and based off of his stealthy and carefully orchestrated movements, she could tell he was a Slayer. How ironic, she remembered thinking to herself as she continued to pretend like she did not notice him.
Her plan was to isolate him in the alley that was coming up ahead, and there she would use the darkness to her advantage and ambush him there. She could take him. He was a young Slayer too. Blond hair. Around Six feet. Bronzed skin, broad shoulders with thick muscular padding wearing nothing but a pair of plain brown trousers, beat up leather shoes that she assumed he robbed from a bum, and a trench coat that more than likely concealed dozens of weapons. He was only a few feet behind her, and she could feel his eyes burning on her. If he thought she would be an easy kill, he was going to be highly disappointed when he was resurrected however many years from now when he realized it was she who killed him.
“Milady,” he called from behind her, his voice raspy and cold…and tingly deep. She stopped and slowly turned to face him, offering her warmest, toothiest smile with a hint of fang. “Yes?” “You should not walk the streets barefoot,” he said coolly as he took his time approaching her. “You might catch fever.” She laughed. “Let us not play this game Slayer,” she said dangerously. “You know that my kind are not subject to fever.” “I am not trying to play a game with you vampire beauty,” he said once they were less than three feet away from each other. “I only said what I said to get your attention.” “And what kind of attention do you seek? Most Slayers only seek one kind of attention and many of them died once it was achieved.” “Only to be brought back to life to finish the job started,” he challenged looking at her straight in her eyes. She raised an eyebrow. “Then what do you want?” “I want to get to know you. You are like the night’s mystery to me and I want to solve it.” “The night’s mystery?” She snorted. “Can you blame a lad for trying? I just want to get to know you. Why would I hunt the very one who makes my heart quicken without a trace of fear or hatred? Listen. I know you can hear it.” She did not want to and told herself that she should kill him and be done with it but she listened anyways. His heart did beat faster and when she took a moment to closely examine him, she realized that he was strikingly handsome. His features were fine and full of youth and promise. His cheeks lightly flushed, and for a man who was probably older than the city’s oldest senior his face was baby boy soft. Not a trace of hair. He stood there, without a weapon drawn, waiting for her to hear his heart beat and he smiled when she did. “Why would you want to get to know the very thing that you love to kill?” She asked, unsure of where this was going and where it could potentially go. “Because when I look at you, I see more than the strength of a bloodline that has survived centuries of hunting and killings from Slayers. I see a woman, divinely created in search of the one thing that she has yet to find just I have searched and have been unsuccessful…” “And what is that Slayer?” “That one thing that can stop and restart time and give hope to the hopeless all at the same time: love.” She scoffed and laughed and dematerialized quickly leaving the Slayer standing in the dark alone, baffled by his obvious sense of buffoonery. Little did she know she would see him again. And again. Always after she had finished her hunt . She knew that he was watching her, studying her, and working desperately to capture her attention…something that she began to find quite endearing.
This went on for months, her parents none the wiser. They trusted in her ability to hunt alone, without being accompanied by an escort or even going as far as to have her prey waiting for her at their castle. Rothbart seemed to always be waiting in the shadows until one night when she lured him out. Dressed in a petticoat, her red hair free and flowing in the gentle breeze of the night, she sat on a park bench listening for her latest victim. She could sense Rothbart’s presence somewhere in one of the nearby thickets and called out to him, tired of the game. “You can come out Slayer,” she cooed. “There is no point in hiding when we both know that I know you are there.” He slowly emerged from behind the thicket, his hair damp from perhaps showering before stepping out to begin this routine of theirs. Dressed in what she noticed were new breeches with a wine colored tunic, it warmed her to know he dressed to impress her. He did not look so…ratty. As a matter of fact, he looked quite handsome. “Join me as I wait for my meal,” she said with a sly smile.
He cautiously inched his way to the park bench and took a seat, less than a breath of a hair away from Lucinda. The instant that their elbows brushed each other, the connection was breathtaking. She hissed slightly as he jerked. “What is this magic you bring Slayer?” She demanded, rubbing her elbow. “The magic I bring to you princess is that of my heart,” He responded calmly. “How do you know my station?” Rothbart sighed and shook his head. “I tire of these games. Ye be Hadrian’s daughter. How could a Slayer not know that?” When she did not answer immediately, he continued. “Are you mated?” Her eyes narrowed but she answered, “No.” “But you are to be queen and you have found no mate befitting of such station?” “You ask dangerous questions Slayer,” she hissed. “Indeed. Have you a fear of the male species?” She growled. “I fear nothing!” “Then, why do you push me away?” She turned her head, debating on simply dematerializing but then changed her mind. “Do you not find me attractive?” He asked innocently. She tried to maintain the resolve to not look at him but he pressed her again. “Lucinda, tell me you do not find yourself attracted to me and I will leave you alone forever.” That made her turn her eyes to meet his, and the moment she did her heart began to beat erratically and her breathing slowed. His mouth, lush and pink and full-how she wanted to press her mouth against his and taste the sweet nectar that she knew he had to offer. He stared at her in a way she had never experienced, not even from her own kind that made her body crave something much more carnal than blood. “What do you do to me?” She questioned as she lost herself in his hypnotic stare. “Nothing. Yet.” His last statement shocked and aroused her, and being a virgin vampire she could only imagine the things that he would do to her. “I am a Royal Vampire in all manners. My bite is-“ “I am immune to your bite,” he said. “My father would not approve,” she said, thinking about the punishment she would face if her father found out about their brewing forbidden relationship. “Does your father make the final decision in everything?” If his question was meant to provoke her, he succeeded. Her nostrils flared and her face turned beet red. “No. If I am to be queen then I am free to make my own decisions.” He smiled, displaying a perfect set of white teeth on a strong, chiseled face. “Then are you saying that you are free to choose me vampire?” For the first time in her 200 years of living, she smiled genuinely. “I am. But the question is do I choose you Slayer?” He held his grin, his eyes twinkling at her question. “Then choose me vampire,” he whispered. “Choose me and I can show you what the love of a man is like. You vampires are so cold and calculating. Let me warm you with my love and you will never regret it.”
Since that meeting on the park bench they stole whatever moment they could with each other and a few weeks later, Rothbart made love to the virgin vampire; opening her up to all of her secrets and mysteries that came with a female-human or not, and she gave him her heart. He even surprised her with a small cottage that he purchased on one of the more secluded areas of London. Their affair lasted a good five years before its discovery, and once it reached Hadrian’s ears he launched an attack on the Catholic church of London, nearly razing it to the ground. He stripped Lucinda of her title before the courts, humiliating her in the worse possible way and sent her to live across the seas to Romania for a time being. Hadrian almost lost his life to Rothbart, had one of his men not sacrificed his own. Her father had sent her away so quickly that she did not have time to send word to Rothbart her whereabouts and by the time she had discovered the nature of the results of her affair, Rothbart had all but disappeared. She was under close guard for a good decade before she was trusted to be on her own once again, only for her to find herself forced to marry Alexander and what was once her throne handed over to Damien. She lost everything all because of what the man she chose to love was: a Slayer. And now, this same Slayer, sought vengeance against her family because he too suffered a broken heart.
She concluded her story with a sob and once she was done she dematerialized to her room where she could finish morning the loss of something she knew in her heart she would never experience again. A part of her hoped that the saying about vampires only loving once was false; she wanted to love again and she hoped that if such a second chance existed, that it would not end tragically and that she too could look forward to a happily mated life filled with babies and dreams for the future. Damien simply did not understand his blessing.
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.
