Her father released her vampiric powers, much to her dismay. It was bad enough being pregnant, without adding more pressure. However, she was learning to handle her new vampiric gifts, all except for the odd craving of salty foods--namely blood, which she refused to drink. Well, maybe once or twice she bit her husband during sex, but that didn’t count. Audrey giggled.
"What’s so funny?" Porter asked, coming up from kissing her rounded belly.
"Nothing," she grinned. It was amazing how much closer they’d gotten with time. At first, there had been some adjusting, but their stubborn ways finally did catch up to what their hearts and brains already knew. "Just thinking."
"Of?"
"Us," she giggled again.
"Care to share why thinking of us is so funny?" Porter asked, moving to tickle her sides.
"No." Audrey giggled again and the baby kicked her in protest. She flinched, rubbing her stomach. "Ow. Your son is beating me today."
"He doesn’t like you teasing his father," Porter laughed, rubbing his face against her stomach. "Do you, boy?"
The baby kicked the side of his face and they both started laughing.
"He’s strong," Porter said with a measure of pride.
"Just like his father," Audrey sighed dreamily, leaning in to accept her husband’s kisses.
"Mm," he agreed, adding, "Just like his mother."
"Oh, really!"
Porter and Audrey parted to see Clara hovering in the doorway. Audrey had been a little stunned to see her mother’s wings for the first time, but now she was used to it.
Clara shook her head. "Every time I turn around I find you two--lip locked!"
"We really should get our own place," Audrey said, nuzzling Porter’s cheek.
"We have our own place," Porter answered, well aware they were talking solely for Clara’s benefit. "I’m just not done torturing Dorian and your mother."
"Oh!" Clara huffed, flying away.
Audrey giggled and no more words were needed between them as Porter lifted his wife into his arms and carried her off towards their room.
The End
FATE OF THE HEART
By
Mandy M. Roth
Dedication:
Michelle, not only do you not mind the frantic late night emergency calls you seem to encourage them. Thanks for always being there to help verify that I’m well on my way to creating another bizarre tale, and thanks for adding your own weirdness to the mix.
Prologue
France, 1754
Jean-Pierre ran forward, unable to make sense of the carnage around him. The smell of blood was thick in the air and the demon within him wanted to rise up.
Who could have done such a thing? Why would they want to tear his home apart?
"Elise Marie, ma sucré?" Panic ripped through him as he searched through the destruction. The walls had been torched and the smell of death clung to the air. Running full force through his home, he stumbled over the something. He gasped as he looked down to find Elise Marie’s limp body lying on the cold floor.
Pulling her into his arms, he held her tight. "Why?" he cried out as he rocked his wife of one night in his arms. She’d agreed to the turning and he’d been prepared to bring her over to an eternal life of youth and strength. But it had all been ripped away from him. Stolen, in just the blink of an eye.
"I swear that I will avenge your death. All who did this will feel my wrath."
Jean-Pierre let his fangs extend and felt his eyes shifting colors. There would be no mercy for the ones who had slain his wife, his sweet Elise Marie. It mattered not that they had most likely come to slay him--the great vampire who had lived among them in peace for so many years. His own foolish heart had led him out amongst the living. When he’d seen Elise Marie’s sweet face, he’d known that she was the one for him. The one that would be his wife--his life mate.
The townspeople were suspicious of his affection for one of their own and had come to put an end to him.
"I will find you again, my love. I promise you that, ma amour."
* * * *
Jean-Pierre stood near the edge of the large black cauldron. The three hag sisters cackled as they tossed the last of the ingredients into the mixture. He watched as the lock of hair he’d cut from Elise was absorbed into their potion.
"Tell me what you see, sisters." He didn’t want to wait around for their magic to take hold. He needed an answer. He needed the power of the seers regardless of how touched in the head they were.
Unlike his kind, the hags never went to the surface, not unless they were forced. They lived in caves and underground dwellings, rarely venturing out, and almost never coming into contact with humans. It was bound to drive them insane being cooped up like that for centuries. They were destined to be twisted in some demented way, but he couldn’t think about that now. No. Now, he had to find out when he would see his love again.
"Be silent, vampire," they answered in unison, as they always did. Each sister was as blind and as ugly as the next one. If it wasn’t for their supernatural expertise, he’d have never called upon them for help. He needed their guidance, regardless of how he felt about them.
The cauldron bubbled and the greenish-brown brew let off a pungent gas. Jean-Pierre coughed and covered his mouth. "Do it! Assure me that she will return."
"We warn you that you risk the wrath of the powers that be. Your loved one died and it is not wise to go against fate."
"I do not care about fate or the powers that be. Elise was stolen from me, and I will not rest until she is in my arms again. My heart is weak without her."
The cauldron rocked and its contents spilled onto the floor. The sisters backed away quickly and grabbed one another. "You have angered the gods. You will have your love back. Two hundred and fifty years from now, when you have learned to control the demon within you, she will return. But be warned … your weakened heart is no longer your own to bear, and the misconceptions of humans will never change."
Their laughter filled the room as Jean-Pierre turned to storm out.
"I do not care, so long as I have her returned to me."
"Then so shall it be, vampire." They laughed in union. "Where do you go now?"
"I go to kill every last man and woman that took part in her death. They thought me to be a monster before, ha! Now, they will see what pure evil is."
Chapter One
America, present day
"Are you sure that you want to go to this party?"
Elise looped her arm through her grandmother’s and smiled. "I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. Dubois Manor has been empty for ages. I don’t recall a time that I haven’t been fascinated by it. The new owner’s idea of throwing a Halloween Party for the entire town is genius! He’ll win them over in no time flat." She took a deep breath in and savored the smell of the fresh, October air. "I need this, Grandma. I need to be someone else for a bit."
"I understand, dear," her grandmother said, patting her hand. "Well then, let’s find you a costume. Do you think they’re still open? It’s late, you know."
Elise knew that her grandmother worried about her. Hell, everyone in the town worried about her. That’s why she’d decided to wait until sunset to go find a costume. Broad daylight meant that the entire town was out and about, and she wanted no part of that.
"What do you want to go as? How about a genie? That would look sexy on that tiny body of yours. I have a sneaky suspicion that you’ll be meeting the man of your dreams soon, my dear, and it’d be nice if you could blow his socks off--both literally and figuratively."
"Grandma!" Elise said, laughing. Reaching to open the costume shop’s door, she collided with someone else. "Ouch!"
"Excusez-moi," a deep, heavily accented voice said. She glanced up to find a tall man with chin-length black hair standing before her. Light blue eyes stared down at her and her heart beat faster. His large, muscular frame blocked the rest of the sidewalk and for a moment, she could have sworn tha
t she knew him.
Steady, think happy, calming thoughts, she thought to herself. The last thing she needed was her heart rate to skyrocket. Her grandmother would call an ambulance and she’d spend Halloween in the hospital--again.
The breathtaking stranger before her was dressed head to toe in black. With his pale skin, blue eyes, and dark hair, he commanded her attention. His full lips formed a smile and she could see the muscles in his thick neck working. He pulled the shop door open and bowed his head slightly. "S’il vous plait."
"Oh, devilishly good looking and French … you can hardly beat that, can you, dear? See, I told you Mr. Right would appear soon," Grandmother said with a hint of mischief in her voice.
"Umm, thanks," Elise said, as she entered the shop. She didn’t want to look away from the man. There was something so familiar about him, yet he was a perfect stranger to her. She’d never been to France. Hell, she’d never been outside of Pisqualla.
Jean-Pierre watched the woman as she did her best to avoid looking at him. He could hardly contain his excitement, being this close to her. She was even more beautiful than he remembered. He’d spent over two hundred and fifty years searching for her, knowing that she’d return to him a some point in time. Now, he’d finally found her and it took everything in him to not grab her and hold her close.
He’d sensed her presence almost twenty years earlier. He’d purchased a home, long ago, on a whim, and found it odd that he’d sense Elise Marie in the same small town. Venturing to Pisqualla, he’d found no sign of Elise Marie, but had felt her near. It wasn’t until a month ago, when he’d decided to stop in to check on his property, that he’d finally seen her. Jean-Pierre couldn’t believe his eyes. She’d been sitting on a bench in the park with the woman who accompanied her now, a woman that had paid him a visit once, long ago. His Elise Marie was back and standing right before him.
Elise chanced a quick look over her shoulder and found the handsome stranger looking at her. Her face reddened and she quickly looked away. "Margaret," she shouted, with a bit too much enthusiasm.
The shop owner turned and flashed a large smile. "Elise, how are you doing tonight?"
"Good, Margaret, thanks. So, what do you have that can transform me into something beautiful?" Elise asked, softly. No part of her wanted the sexy stranger to overhear her.
"Oh, sweetie, I’ve got nothing here that can even compare to you, but I’ll give it shot," Margaret said, chomping on her bubble gum. For a woman in her early sixties, she acted more like a teenager than she should. There had always been something odd about her that Elise couldn’t put her finger on. Margaret narrowed her eyes on Elise. "You aren’t planning on going to that big ol’ shindig up at the Dubois place, are you?"
Elise nodded, sure that a lecture was to follow. Everyone seemed to have an opinion on what she should and should not do. Sure, her heart was bad and she’d already exceeded the time the doctors thought she had, but she was still breathing and that was all that mattered. They treated her like a porcelain doll--always had.
From the moment she’d been born, she’d been treated with kid gloves. Her heart had given out on her a few days after birth, but miraculously, she’d survived. Now, with twenty-five years under her belt, she’d outlived what the experts had told her family. As much as she wanted to celebrate, Elise knew that her heart wouldn’t hold out forever. In fact, she’d been going through pills at an alarming rate and knew that the end was approaching quickly.
The announcement of a Halloween party at Dubois Manor had been the ray of sunshine in her otherwise dismal existence. She’d been forced to move in with her grandmother when it became apparent that she’d not be able to work full time any longer. But none of that mattered now. What mattered was finding a costume to wear to the party.
"Elise, you can’t be serious about traipsing up to that old place with a bunch of drunks and sinners. Lord only knows what kind of man bought that place. Who comes into town and throws a party like that before he even introduces himself? I’ve heard that he’s the devil himself. That whole line of Dubois is, you know. Come straight from hell they did … mmmhmmm," Margaret said. "Betty Sue, you going to let her go?"
Elise glanced over at her grandmother and laughed when she saw her doing her best to ignore Margaret. Zealots seemed to flock to the tiny town and for some reason they’d elected Margaret as their leader. It was odd that she ran a costume shop, but then again, everything about Margaret tended to be odd.
Elise was about to comment on her rather rude remarks when the sexy stranger walked up. He laid a long black dress with what looked to be a spider web pattern all over it on the counter. It was sheer and had a creepy yet erotic flare to it. "I think this would look stunning on you. It would bring out your green eyes."
"Nonsense! Elise wouldn’t be caught dead…." Margaret stopped instantly and looked around nervously.
"It’s okay, Margaret, I know what you meant." She looked up at the stranger and laughed. "So, you do speak English."
"Oui, I speak many languages." He put his hand out. Elise was immediately struck by how pale and smooth his skin was. "I am Jean-Pierre."
Taking his hand gently, Elise gasped as a surge of energy ran up her arm. He felt so familiar, so right. "Elise."
"Elise. That is a beautiful name."
"Thank you. It was my mother’s idea. She said that I visited her dreams before I was born and told her what to call me." She had no idea why she’d blurted out something so personal and so insane to a complete stranger. Elise attempted to pull her hand from his, but he held tight.
"I am pleased that your mother listened to her dreams," he said, bringing her hand to his cool lips.
Elise’s knees weakened as Jean-Pierre kissed her hand. He flickered his tongue out and over the back of her hand and her heart fluttered. Dizziness swept in and, for a minute, she saw two of Jean-Pierre standing before her--not that it was a bad thing.
Reaching out to steady herself, she felt Jean-Pierre’s other hand move around her waist. "Are you well?"
"I’m … I’m…." His blue eyes held her attention and she lost her train of thought.
"Take your hands off our Elise this instant, you hooligan!" Margaret shouted.
"Elise, dear, are you okay?" Elise heard her grandmother talking to her, but couldn’t seem to look away from Jean-Pierre. Something about him held her attention. "Elise Marie Wiseman, answer me this minute or I will call an ambulance."
"I’m fine, Grandma. I promise."
An ambulance? Jean-Pierre thought to himself. Why would one as young as Elise need an ambulance? His vampire senses allowed him to sense death and sickness and both times that he’d seen Elise with the other woman he’d assumed that the sickness that he sensed was that of the old woman’s. Now, as he noted the concerned looks of the sales clerk and elderly woman, he realized that the sickness he sensed was that of Elise.
His throat tightened and he fought the demon inside him down. He’d never dreamt that she’d be ill. Looking at her skin, he saw that it was as pale as his own. Her green eyes looked tired and it hit him just how tiny she truly was. "You are ill."
She looked away, as if she was ashamed of this fact. "I’m fine. They worry too much. They’re always going on and on about me and treating me like a child. It’s really rather silly. I’ll probably out live them."
Jean-Pierre knew that she lied. He could smell it on her. She knew how near the end she was but she hid it from the others. She would not slip away from him again. No, he’d waited too long for her to return. She was his everything and his blood alone could save her--make her whole, healthy, and immortal.
"You should be home, resting," Jean-Pierre said, softly, not wanting to let go of her.
You should be in my home where you belong, he thought to himself.
She looked up at him with wide eyes. "I said I’m fine and I meant it. I just need a minute, that’s all. Sometimes things just get away from me. I’ll be fine in a minute." Sweat beaded on her fore
head. He could sense how her heart struggled to keep up its frantic pace. It was so weak, so tired, and so stubborn to have held on as long as it had. She had suffered much in her life and he hadn’t been there to ease her pain. Guilt washed over him as he thought of what he could have done to help her all these years. A few drops of his blood could have eased her suffering, strengthened her heart, at least temporarily.
"Had I only found you sooner, you would not have suffered so." He stroked her hand and was pleased to find it so warm and inviting.
Elise smiled softly and reached her hand up slowly to his face. Running her thumb over his bottom lip, she sighed. "Why would you say such a thing?"
It hit him then that he’d spoken aloud. Telling her that she was his reincarnated wife seemed a bit much so he opted for a different reply. Leaning down to her he let his lips hover dangerously close to her own. Warm, welcoming breath greeted him as she moved in to meet his advance. Fire shot through his groin, as her sweet mouth pressed to his. When she parted her lips and allowed his tongue to slide in, he thought that he would melt into a puddle on the floor or come in his pants. The idea of peaking before the act itself shamed him. He was conditioned to be patient, not to almost lose it the moment he touched Elise’s sweet lips once again.
It had been too long without the feel of her kiss. Too long without the touch of her hands, the feel of her warm pussy wrapped round his cock, and too long without hearing the soft cries of ecstasy fall from her lips. She’d been a fierce lover who gave as good as she got. The best part of it all was that she’d been his and his alone. The need to claim her again was strong and he had to focus on something, anything, to keep from doing it in the middle of the shop.
The shopkeeper’s voice boomed in around them, but Jean-Pierre used his supernatural gifts to block her out. Her disapproval was evident, but he didn’t care. Still, there was something about the woman that bothered him. Now wasn’t the time to worry about that though. No, now he had his Elise back.
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