Steal Me From Heaven

by Crawford, Toni

  “Why?” he asks.

  “It is my last night as a human, and all I want is one hour to myself.” The answer is good enough for him. He opens the door to his bedroom. This place is old, I realize. He takes the clothes to an empty closet and starts filling the hangers.

  “Where are we?” I ask.

  “In North Carolina. You’ve probably never heard of this estate, especially the behind the scenes part. The backside and underground of the mansion are secret. The front side is for the public, with many rooms refurbished for display. The staff are all employed and paid well by me. The funds generated provide an excellent source of income for me. I built the Biltmore House in the eighteen hundreds. I had a lot of time on my hands and needed a distraction. The rest of the story is just that, a story. The continuous line of guests allows for an easy meal except for the other day when it was a Holiday, and I fed from Sarah.”

  “You mean you kill the visitors?” I ask in shock.

  He laughs at my comment. “No, they are given a private tour where we drink their blood and erase their memories. Some people are more than willing to offer themselves to a Vampire. They are sometimes offered more.”

  “Like what?” I ask. He hisses at my question, but answers anyway.

  “Employment, servitude. Some are turned eventually after a few years of loyalty, and sometimes sex.”

  “And you?” I ask. He hisses again.

  “I have offered all of the above. I’m not going to lie to you.”

  “Tell me about Marion,” I ask, not caring what Jessica warned me about. Maybe I question him out of jealousy.

  “She was my first wife. I told you.”

  “Not everything,” I reply. “I deserve to know.”

  “I guess you do.” He walks over to the big comfy chair and sits down. He motions me over, and I come. I sit on his lap. He stares across the room, refusing to look at me. I watch his face as he talks. “She was my soul mate. My human soul mate, that is. We were married young as many couples were back in those days. It was in sixth century. We lived in England. The Queen saw me at court one day. She wanted me. She sent the guards for me. I refused her. I told them I had a wife and was not interested. That night, she found a way to alter my drink with a drug. I awoke to find myself in her bed. We were not clothed. I did not honestly know if we had sex or not. Her husband walked in on us. I ran out the window. I didn’t think he saw who I was. I told Marion immediately when I returned home. She knew I never lied so she believed me.”

  “The King’s fury sent his guards to my house when he ordered my death. They ripped my screaming wife from my hands. That night as I waited in my prison for my approaching death, the Queen came down to see me. She said she was sorry to have gotten me involved in her marriage and revealed herself as a Vampire. She had staged our bed scene for her husband to make him jealous and pay attention to her. The King had my wife and intended to kill her after my death. She planned to get her back if I chose to become a nightwalker. I accepted her offer. I would gladly give my humanity for her life. She informed me that her husband was a Vampire also, but one much stronger than she. She could not fight him alone.”

  “She gave me some of her blood for the next three nights. When they hung me in the square, I died. They buried me outside of town, and I awoke in a coffin six feet under the ground. I dug my way out. I killed three people before I could handle my thirst. I lost my memory for several weeks. When it returned, I looked for the Queen, but he had killed her. I found out later that Marion was not dead. The King wed her instead and changed her name. I changed my identity and sought after a plan to win her back.”

  Something registers in my mind. “Do I remind you of her?” I nervously ask, remembering what his sister said.

  He looks at me through and through. Maybe I shouldn’t have brought it up. “You are not the same, but underneath I sense her. I see the same qualities.”

  Okay, not what I wanted to hear. I try to get off his lap but he holds me tighter.

  “Now, don’t be upset. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, but I said I would never lie to you.”

  I forget my anger and slide back down resting my upper body on his chest. He smells my hair. I can hear his thoughts. “I need a bath, don’t I?” I say, already knowing the answer. He picks me up and carries me to the bathroom. To my delight, there is a large Jacuzzi tub. He places the stopper into the drain and turns on the water. I think I need to pee, but realize that I am incapable of it now; habit, I guess. I remove my new top and pants I got from Jessica and step into the tub. He opens a bottle of something and squirts it in the water. He turns on the jets and bubbles start forming around my body. I smile. He starts removing his clothes to join me.

  “I know what you’re thinking and it is not eleven just yet. I promise to leave then,” he says.

  “Do you have an internal clock or something?” I ask.

  “Something like that.” He doesn’t offer a detailed explanation. “Scoot up.”

  I slide forward, and he slips into the tub behind me. I lie back against his chest, and his arms enclose me. He holds me for as long as he can stand it before saying, “Let’s wash that hair.” He squeezes shampoo onto my head and scoops up water with his hands to lather it up.

  “Now hold your breath.” He places both hands on top of my head and pushes me under the water between his legs. I can feel his hardness beneath me. He’s not letting me back up. I struggle to get up. His hold is tight. I think of the waterfall and of drowning, the hand on my ankle pulling me down. I look down at my feet in the pool. Jacob’s face rises up to meet me. He was holding me under that night, and he’s doing it again in this bathtub. I slam my head back against his privates. He yells out but holds me against the floor of the tub. How long have I been under here? It seems like minutes, but yet I’m still alive and breathing. No, I’m not breathing. I open my eyes and see his face above the surface. The bubbles are dancing above my head. The spigot is thundering in my ears. I relax and give in.

  He releases my head and pulls me up. I turn and slap him across the face. His head snaps to the left. Then he looks at me through darkened eyes, long teeth, and tightened face. His muscles flinch, and the hairs on his arms stand up. He growls deep and low in his throat at me. I want to run. I try to get up. He reaches for me, but the bubbles make my body slippery, and I escape his grip. I stand but before my leg gets out of the tub to touch the floor, he is towering above me, the water and bubbles descending down his rigid body. He pushes me back into the water. I am now sitting in his spot.

  “I was trying to teach you another lesson but I guess you learned two instead. Lesson number four is that you can hold your breath indefinitely. And as you have figured out, lesson number five, never slap a Vampire.” He lowers himself back into the water and hovers over me on all fours, his face inches from mine with his fangs still exposed. He whispers, “Now let me show you what else you can do with lesson number four.” He lowers his head into the water and pulls my thighs up. Next I feel his tongue between my legs licking my slick flesh. I squirm in his arms, but he stills me with his thoughts.

  How long did he say we could hold our breath? I think.

  Indefinitely, he answers.

  After I am exhausted, and he is just getting started for the night, he lifts his head out of the water and shakes his hair out. He tells me that it is nearly eleven and that he must go get dressed. He says this hour apart is like the night apart before the wedding day.

  I dry my hair with a towel and take off his robe. I let my body air dry. I walk out into the closet and retrieve the green box. Opening the lid, I stare at my lingerie that is duplicating as my wedding gown. I run my fingers along the red belted waist. I see myself wearing it. I see him touching me in it. I close my eyes as I feel the silk under my fingers. The satin is as smooth as cool water.

  My mind races back to the waterfall. I am there on the edge of the cliff again. Jacob comes up behind me and caresses me. He is breathing hard. I look in his
eyes and tell him to go ahead and do it. He jumps with me in his arms. We hit the water and separate. I swim as hard as I can for the surface. He grabs my ankle and pulls me to him. I panic and struggle to free myself. He pulls me into his chest and kisses me. He parts my lips with his tongue while wrapping his mouth around mine. I expect to drown but air passes between us. We look up and see men above us on the cliff. Shots are being fired into the water. One hits me in my side. I am bleeding. Jacob presses a hand to my wound. He bites his wrist and presses it to my mouth. I struggle against him for a few seconds but then I open my mouth and drink. We are trapped beneath the surface. I am still bleeding. My wounds are slow to heal in the water. He is my oxygen. He is my savior. He is my Jacob, my lover. How is this possible?

  I try to think back even farther in my mind before I was standing on that cliff. I see a cavern lit by torches, a drawbridge surrounding a moat, and men moving about and talking. I am not bound by chains. I am free to come and go as I please. I see someone approaching me. “There you are,” he says to me. “We need to get you indoors. Trouble is approaching with the rising moon. He means to steal you away again.” I walk towards the cavern. People are bowing their heads as we approach. I smile and nod back at them.

  We enter through the big wooden doors. I see a man standing in the middle of fog, his eyes rolled back into his head. He looks creepy and as old as dirt. He holds a staff in one hand. Chanting in a low voice, he motions for me to approach him. I am led over by the man whose arm I hold. The old man reaches towards my face. He grabs hold of my hair and rips it out by the follicles. I scream. A hand clamps down on my mouth.

  “He will find her and take her,” the old man says.

  “I’ll kill her first before he has her again.” He slides a knife out from his belt.

  “There may be another way,” the old man says, “a spell. Are you sure you are that obsessed with her?”

  “Do not question my intentions. What do you need to proceed?”

  “I have her hair. That is all, but we might as well take her blood.”

  Just then the man beside me bites my neck. The pain sears through me. I have never seen this side of him before. The old man rushes up with a vial to catch the blood as it slides down my skin. I grab the man’s knife in his hand and stab him. He lets go of my throat. I run out the doors and into the night. I hear struggling back in the cavern. It sounds like a fight erupted. I run towards the waterfall. I hear him calling my name. My name—if only I can make it out. It grows louder in my head. Guinevere.

  I’m Lady Guinevere. My head is starting to pound. How can this be? I was not a Vampire, yet I haven’t aged. I calm my breathing and try to steady my nerves. I look at the clock. It is almost midnight, the hour of my wedding and the day of my death.

  I slip the nightgown over my head and slide it down my body; it hugs me well. I choose not to wear panties since it is see-through lace in the rear. He will like that. My hair is curled just right, and I am wearing it pulled to one side, exposing my neck. I debate whether to wear the robe for cover-up. He can remove it, I decide. I slip it over my shoulders and walk over to the shoes. I am not one to wear shoes in bed so I do not put them on. I hear a knock at the door. I know it is him.

  “Come in,” I say.

  He opens the door slowly. I see that he is wearing a black silk robe tailored to his body, accentuating his muscles underneath. He smiles when he sees me. He looks around the room.

  “I did not have time to light the candles,” I explain.

  “No problem,” he says as the candles glow to life. I am not surprised. Next the blinds open, and I look out at the countryside, land as far as one can see and stars as bright as a million suns. He glides up behind me and wraps me in his arms. He kisses my bare neck, and I lean back to him. I try not to think about who I am. I do not want him to know that I have at least part of my memory back.

  He unties the silk belt and opens my robe. He then slides the sleeves off my shoulders and down to the floor. He hisses when he sees my bare backside through the lace. He lowers behind me and sniffs my body as he stands back up. I hear him sigh. I turn to face him, but he stops me. I swear I see tears in his eyes. I want to look again, but I choose to stand still. He is sniffing me again. I feel like I’m on the menu, but I guess I am. I do not know if he likes my gift or not.

  “What is your name?” The words slide off his tongue.

  I choose not to tell him, instead saying, “I don’t know.” I’m afraid my thoughts may have given me away.

  He comes around to face me now. “You are remembering, but the details are jumbled,” he says as he smiles at me. “Where did you get this gown?” he asks.

  “It’s a gift from your sister. She thought you would like it if I wore it for our wedding night.”

  “It’s not her gift to give,” he says. I am confused.

  ”I can take it off if you don’t like it,” I say.

  “I very much like it.” He bends down and kisses me, pulling the strap off my shoulder. He peels it down to expose my left breast. I watch as he works my body with his experienced hands and tongue focusing on my nipple. His hair falls forward and covers his face. I reach down and lift it up so I can see his lips move across my breast. I see his mouth widen, and I brace for his bite.

  He pierces the skin on the plumpness of my breast and sucks in my blood. Step three is beginning. I grow weak from the pleasure, and he steadies me on my feet. He reaches up with his right hand and slowly draws my gown down to around my waist. I fight the urge to bite him. He will tell me when it is time. He leaves the holes open and bites my other breast. I can no longer stand. He picks me up and carries me to the bed. He lays me down, still drinking my life into him. He does not close this wound either. I do not understand. My blood flows down my curves and onto my abdomen. He slides his hand up one of my legs, exposing my thigh through the slit. He lowers his head and kisses me. Then he bites my femoral artery and sucks. I come close to climaxing then. I move my leg to draw it up towards me. He snarls and wraps his arms around it, holding me still. I wish he would just bite my neck as usual.

  This feels foreign to me, but still I find the pleasure in it. He is sucking hard on my inner thigh and rubbing his hand along the outside of my leg and butt. I feel his fingers upon my flesh stroking me to orgasm. I am close. My legs begin to quiver. My brain is numb. He withdraws his fangs only to pierce my other thigh quickly. I shatter. Ecstasy surges through my body. I want him inside me now. I pull for him to come up to me. He continues to suck and rub my sweetness. Then he tastes more than my blood. His head is between my legs before I know it. A whimper escapes my lips, and I spasm uncontrollably. He lets me squirm in his hands and does not hold me. My skin crawls beneath him. My body releases, and I again pull for him to take me now. I beg.

  He hisses and raises his head. He grabs my waist in both hands and pulls me down to him. I scream as he enters me hard. I feel the slippery blood on my breasts and thighs as he works his body over the top of mine. My blood is seeping into the bed and all over my white nightgown. I am growing hungrier by the smell of it. I am being depleted, drained dry. I want to bite him. He stops thrusting long enough to bite my jugular and take several deep draws. He turns my head to the other side and bites me there as well. Blood oozes into my hair. I feel my life passing. He begins working his hips again as I rise up to meet him. My eyes are becoming dark. I feel my teeth lengthen.

  “Bite me,” he orders.

  “Say my name,” I beg to hear it from his lips.

  “You know your name. Now bite me.” He refuses to tell me.

  “I will bite you when you call my name,” I say. “Let it escape from your lips.”

  He rolls me over on top of him. He is in the submissive position now, and I am the predator. He is still hard and tight within me. I sit up, straddling him, and begin to work my hips. He groans with pleasure.

  “Whisper my name.” I coerce him with my body to tell me. I rub my hands across his muscular chest an
d abdomen then squeeze his nipple. I arch back and take my other hand behind me to cup his balls, giving them a light massage.

  He lets out a sigh. “…Marion.”

  I think about slapping him but then I remember lesson five all too well. I close my eyes, pretending I do not hear. I am still rocking against him. My body is weakening. I need blood.

  “Bite me, Marion. Do it now. Your heart is stopping.”

  He calls me by her name again. I cannot argue. I open my mouth and come down on his throat violently. He cries out in pain. The warm liquid begins to satisfy me. I drink as fast as I can swallow. The blood fills my mouth, and I swallow again. I close my eyes as I suck on him. He is now rocking my hips for me. I can no longer move. I feel the surge of pleasure between my legs and soften my grip with my fangs. He exhales. I do not want to pleasure him, not when he thinks of me as his first wife. I feel another orgasm approaching, but I fight it back down. He notices and grunts. He works my body even faster against his solid sex. I grow agitated. He keeps whispering her name. He is telling me that I am hurting him. Well, he hurt me first. He’s the one who got me kidnapped by King Arthur. I was forced into marrying the King after he killed his first wife. Merlin put spells on me to make me stay, to make me obedient, to make me forget my real husband…Jacob. I was married to Jacob, and he found me again. The King didn’t recognize him. Jacob became close to the King to be able to get closer to me, and I fell into his arms again. When Arthur found out about the affair, he ordered me killed. Jacob rescued me, and we ran off to the woods and got new identities. Then I don’t remember….

  I feel my fangs grow even longer. He is squirming beneath me. I hold him down by his shoulders. I feel different. My fangs feel like a weapon. I hold his throat, but I no longer drink.

  “No, love, you don’t want to do this. You know most of it. Try to remember. We were together for many centuries living off the land. Arthur lost his interest in you after a while. Then Merlin cast another spell on you. He took your memories and put you in a deep sleep. Arthur did not want me to win and have you. You have been in my care, hidden for over two hundred years. I have been giving you my blood for the past few months hoping it would wake you up. It finally worked. I guess they knew you had awakened so they found you at my other home and stole you from me. Since my blood was in you, I could locate you. I rescued you two nights ago. I found Arthur and Merlin in the cavern but you were running away."