Positive that he had lost his mind on drugs or was just batshit crazy she began again to struggle and fight against him. His reflexes were lightning fast, almost as if he anticipated every blow before she moved. Her hands, her fists, her knees, she fought with everything she had in her but never hit him once. Squaring her chin, she raised it to meet his eyes. Eyes that seemed impossibly dark and that sent a ripple of fear through her. "I don't know what the hell you're on, but I sure as hell don’t want your blood. Get the hell out!"
Suddenly she was no longer standing in the middle of her kitchen, she was pressed against the wall. His hand was no longer around her throat. Instead, one of his strong hands encircled both of her wrists, and he held them tightly together against the wall. She trembled as his other hand moved to her thigh. His touch was cold against her skin as his hand glided over the surface. His voice was reverent as he spoke, "It is astounding. I had heard the legend but had always assumed it as nothing more than immortal lore or wishful thinking."
"People are born with birthmarks every day. I promise there is nothing spectacular about it at all." His eyes moved slowly, examining the birthmark on her leg. She had been to doctors from Baton Rouge to LA in an effort to have it removed. Every test she had done only solidified the fact that she was stuck with it.
"That is where you are wrong, little one. You are human. There are things in this world that you have no idea exist. You are more wondrous than you can imagine. I found you; now you are mine. Under my protection. You now belong to me. You will have no need for fear, no one would dare to touch you."
Kat had been positive the man was one sandwich short of a picnic, and her mind raced as she tried to think of how to get away. He released her hands, and one arm moved down around her waist, and he pulled her to him. She felt her body begin to shiver uncontrollably, and the world around her began to disappear. When she next awoke, she was in an unfamiliar bedroom. Luxurious furnishings, the window open, a warm breeze blew through the window carrying the sweet scent of magnolias, which filled the room. Throwing back the covers she ran to the window and looked outside. It wasn’t so far of a landing if she jumped from the window. Quickly raising the screen, she began to crawl through. A sudden searing pain had her screaming out as her foot crossed the window sill. That was when she noticed the intricate design that encircled her ankle. Almost like a tattoo. What she could only describe as a madman appeared in the doorway in seconds, eyes burning through her like she was some sort of meal. Looking back at him at that moment, she realized monsters didn't live in dreams, hide under the bed, or in closets - monsters were real.
Chapter Two
The sound of the funeral dirge going by his home brought a smile to his lips; the old him would have gone out and joined them. Now, his world had changed. Years of darkness, of fighting for the life he wanted to live had put Alexei Vanzetti in the top ranks of the underworld. Unfortunately, that had set him directly in the sights of others hoping to move up the ranks, and that was exactly what had him on alert and not able to truly enjoy the dirge that was now halfway down the block. The invitation to the dinner had arrived just days before, and the mystery around it had only done more to get him there rather than to push him from attending. He could still hear his mentor in his head, the warnings preached to him for years upon years something of a mantra. “Do not ever think they want to get to know you for friendship. There is no friendship in hell.”
Now he was curious, why now? Could he have accidentally stumbled upon something in his last trip to the old world? His quest to find out more about why he was the only one he knew that not only turned from human years ago but had also awoken something else. Something much darker had led him to the oldest towns in Europe; something deep inside him knew that the answer was there. Nevertheless, that had just led him on a wild goose chase reading old lore. Everything pointed towards the birthmark on his thigh, the raised design that seemed so decorative. Yet some nights, while he lay in his bed, the darkness surrounding him, it seemed to burn from the inside.
His mind ran through the names he had come across on his last trip; nothing was coming to mind that was linked to this Eugene Tussand. In fact, until the yellowed parchment seeping with aristocratic flair had arrived, he had not heard of him at all. Now he was fully up-to-date. Well, as up-to-date as he could be on a man that apparently did everything he could to be as invisible as possible. All he knew was he was like him. He had been around long enough to not have to worry about much. Everyone he asked seemed to fear the man, yet they all went to him. If they needed something, he was the one they went to for protection, for money, hell – for information. Something to be said for that, he thought.
He turned from the window and pulled on his leather jacket before heading to the main room of the home he lived in for the most part by himself. The only others there were those he kept around to take care of things. His cook, Martine, who never questioned his need for food despite the fact it was not something necessary for him to survive. He just enjoyed it. The only other regular in his home was Mason, his right hand for otherworldly and human life. Having turned him early on, he was bound to Alexei, and over the years had proven himself loyal. As he opened the door to the office to grab the directions he had printed to the New Orleans home he needed to drive to, he heard a cough behind him.
“You sure you should go by yourself? I mean, can’t you take a date or something; maybe that new demon you met, what was her name? Anastasia? I mean, she followed you from Russia.”
He turned and frowned. “Yes, I am sure. I will be fine; it is refreshing and a bit disturbing, though, that you worry so much about me. I am starting to think you are the one who needs to get a date.” Smacking him on the shoulder he passed by, heading to the garage. “I will not be home for dinner, Martine.” He shut the door and threw his leg over his bike before taking off down the road. Each mile closer he seemed to be pulled to get there faster, his hand shifted, and the engine grew louder and louder as he sped towards his destination. When he finally arrived at the gated drive, he pulled up to the box and hit the button.
“Yes?”
“Alexei Vanzetti, I have an invitation.”
The elaborate steel gate slowly started to open. Slowly he turned his bike into the opening, drove forward, and parked in the large circular drive. The water fountain in the middle was lit with a color that changed every few seconds. His pulse seemed to be racing; he had no clue why but for some reason he needed to get inside that house. Just as he was reaching the front door, it opened, and the man that stood there took him back for a second. Years had gone by since he had met someone so powerful, someone who would not just cower to his demands. And this man wanted something, he could tell. But what? And at what cost?
“Hello. Thank you for coming. Make yourself at home.”
He walked in and shook the offered hand, the grasp firm, only further raised his concern. “Thank you for having me.” Accepting a glass of champagne from the nearby waiter, he walked into the room that was apparently set for the evening. His eyes were drawn to the extreme beauty that surrounded this man. Everything was the best. Even his help seemed to be perfect, stunning beauties and most—human. Just as he was about to comment on the home, his breath caught. His eyes fixated on the woman that appeared at the top of the stairs. What caught his attention, even more, was the fact that a burning had started, right along his birthmark. The fire surging inside him seemed to be moving, growing. Moreover, he didn’t know why.
Chapter Three
Kat had spent the morning getting ready, sitting at her vanity, primped, polished as per the master's instructions, wrapped in a robe wondering what he was going to make her wear when Mila, one of the many servants required to meet the demands of the Master of the house strode into the room with a large dress bag. "Master Tussand selected this himself for you to wear this evening. As you know, he is having one of his associates over and wishes you to be looking your best. Do hurry, he should be here shortly."
Reaching the top of the stairs her hand rested on the rail. She had been paying no attention as she started down. Until she felt it. Eyes following her, burning into her. She looked up and at the bottom of the steps was a man she had never seen before. Most of the visitors that came were handsome, but there was something about this one that seemed to stand out from the others. It was more than just the leather jacket that he wore. Others would come here dressed perfectly in suits with designs on to impress Master Tussand. The stranger seemed to emanate confidence and power.
Just what I need, another control freak. Let's get this over with. His eyes never left hers as she descended the stairs. When she neared the bottom, he reached out his hand.
Master Tussand appeared from out of nowhere, his hand reaching out and taking hers. "You look exquisite tonight Kathryn, I knew that dress would fit you perfectly."
Reaching the bottom step, Kat ended up standing between the two men. The air seemed charged around her, tiny jolts of electricity dancing over her skin. Tussand guided her to stand at his side, his arm wrapped around her back, one of his hands on her hip; the possessiveness of his embrace made her skin crawl as he reached out his hand to the stranger. “It is a pleasure to finally meet you, Lord Vanzetti. Welcome to my home. This is my companion, Kathryn.”
Kathryn watched as the two men seemed to stare at one another, sizing the other up. In a voice a smooth as the satin of her dress he spoke, “It is Mr. Vanzetti, thank you.” When his eyes turned to her, their gaze seemed to lock. With a simple nod of his head: “You have a lovely companion; it is a pleasure, Kathryn.”
Tussand pulled her closer against his side as he chuckled softly. “Why strap yourself with the title of a common human, Vanzetti? We both know of your lineage, the status you have achieved. You have earned the title. I suggest you take it before sometime takes it from you.”
The sound of a bell ringing softly interrupted. “Dinner is served,” the old butler proclaimed from behind them.
“Ahh, just in time, I do find myself hungry this evening. Let’s sit and enjoy our meal. You can tell Kathryn and I of your recent travels. Are you hungry, my dear?”
Kathryn smiled sweetly, hiding the fact that her teeth were gnashing together. “Yes actually, Master Tussand, I’m suddenly starving.” With his hand on her elbow, he guided her to the dining room. She was more than aware of Vanzetti following closely behind. The men took their places at each end of the table as she made her way to her chair in the center. Looking between the two was like a chess match. She suddenly felt to be the pawn.
Chapter Four
He waited until the human beauty sat at the table. His senses told him she was entirely human, yet something was not right. And when she walked, he could have sworn he saw something on her leg. Something that couldn’t exist; of course, he wanted it to, but it was not possible. Years of looking for it had proven that. Turning toward his host for the evening, who was still prattling on about the lack of acceptance of his position and questions about his travels he smiled, letting his fangs glisten in the light flickering from the candles set on the large cherry table.
“I truly was enjoying the literature and architecture of the European countries. Nothing more. I enjoy the life there, all the culture. Rome, for one, was a favorite. I found a few pieces to bring home as well. Maybe you can come to my gallery and take a look. I have amassed quite a collection.” He took a bite of his dinner, hoping that the response would be enough to bring the conversation away from his travels. The fact Tussand knew so much about them was a bit concerning. Especially since he didn't see any reason he should.
Thanking the servant that was bringing around the next course he looked up at the calculating stare of his host. He could tell there was something more there. The question was what. And this woman, this stunning woman whose mere look in his direction sent heat running down his every cell, who was she and why did he have the sneaking suspicion that there was some other reason why she was here? She didn't seem like this monster's type. He chuckled, unfortunately out loud, thinking that he was considering him a monster, when in fact Tussand was the same as him: an age-old vampire. The only difference was he still held something for humanity. Humans, to him, did not exist to be just food. They were living beings who deserved some semblance of safety.
"Something amusing, Alexei?"
“No, I'm sorry; just a thought. Again, I apologize." He smiled and busied himself eating the meal as the Vampire on the other end prattled on about his last trip to England. He was distracted from genuinely listening by the beauty that was sitting across from him. Something about her was just mesmerizing him, and that in all his years had never happened before.
“Alexei, join me, will you? Let us go discuss a few things in private. Shall we?” Tussand set the napkin down next to the plate and pushed his heavy chair back from the table.
“We shall.” The look had changed on his host’s face, and the air in the room had taken on an icy chill. Something that always signaled one thing and one thing alone: trouble.
He followed Tussand out of the room, down a dark hallway decorated with original artwork probably worth thousands of dollars and found himself torn. Something wanted him to go back; the feeling that he was leaving something very important behind was overwhelming. His pulse quickened. His body instantly felt clammy, and the world around him started to feel as if it was on some circus ride from years ago. Reaching out he braced himself against the wall, just for a second, to regain his calm.
“You feel it, don’t you, the pull?”
He straightened his back and forced a look of assurance, of sheer confidence onto his face. “I don’t have a clue what you are talking about, but I suggest that whatever you are trying to say you just spit it out. I do not play games. Why did you call me here?”
“Well, that is simple. Power. And I think you are just what I need to achieve it.”
“Excuse me? You're mad. Seriously mad. You have been drinking tainted blood or something.” Something was not right. He knew two things. One, that woman was somehow linked to this creep’s crazy ideas. And two, he had to get out of here. He started walking backward toward the entrance of the home. “I don't know what idea you have about me and my past travels, but you are obviously delusional. Unfortunately, you have taken that poor woman along with you. Why she stays I do not know but as far as I am concerned. You can figure your little problem out by yourself.” Turning on his heel he stormed out the front door; just as he swung his leg over the seat of his bike he heard the voice of Tussand in his head. “You will be back. You need what I have, and I will be waiting.” Gunning the engine, he took off down the road toward his home. His mind filled with questions. His body shook and his skin felt as if it was about to peel back. I just have to make it home, he thought.
The streets whizzed by, the houses a blu
r to his eyes as he raced past, darting through the traffic that had started to come out in preparation for the Mardi Gras festivities that night, each one juggling for that one spot to park. Women in their finery, prepared for whichever ball they were headed to, men in their tuxes, tails flailing in the wind that had started to blow. The final turn into his drive finally came into view, the tall wall of vines blocked the view of the estate, his body barely staying on the bike, his hand gripping the throttle to stay up; something was wrong, he knew it deep down inside. The world seemed to be ebbing, colors fading to dull versions of the brightness that once filled his eyes. His breath seemed to come harder, and he knew that his very life force was draining. The question he could not fathom was why. He had not been without sustenance of late. His station allowed him to not have to worry about that. Hell, people threw themselves at him from the stories they had heard deep in the night at parties and such or the voodoo stores on the strip. He tried to contact his staff in the house with his mind, but only empty thought returned. He looked at the gate in front of him as his bike slowed; he hoped he had enough to at least do that. When the gate opened at his will he was genuinely shocked, the energy to do that was not what he expected and must have been his last as the bike came to a stop and he slid off to the ground.
Chapter Five
When the men had finished dinner, Kat had felt a wave of weakness come over her. She knew that Tussand and his games were truly starting to wear on her. As Kat left the formal dining room, she had to grasp the railing to the stairs, using the strength in her arms to pull herself up the staircase to the second floor to her room. Closing the door behind her, Kat stood leaning against it, closing her eyes trying to gain her strength. She heard the main entrance to the house close with a slam. She smirked. At least this one doesn’t seem to be as enamored by Tussand’s supposed charms.
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