Protecting Emma

by ML Michaels

  The sizable crowd gathered to witness that evening’s fund-raiser stood poised around the ballroom greeting her with hoots and hollers as she floated forthright into the room.

  These same people let loose with an unearthly howl moments later, as a handsome partner who shone in his air of regal distinction joined her on the floor.

  Aidan appeared that day in a smart overcoat of ebony linen with a slick white shirt underneath and matching trousers. A pair of knee high black pleather dancing boots completed the look, which earned obvious approval from the ladies in attendance with the most fervent response coming courtesy of an elderly woman who stood front row center at the side of the ballroom.

  “You go, stud!” she exclaimed, pumping her wrinkled fist in the air as she heralded the gentleman’s entrance.

  “OK, so this begs the question,” Callie mused, adding as she stole a self-conscious glance around her, “What percentage of our audience is here to support the universal fight against violence toward women and families? And what percentage is here in a near desperate attempt to score Aidan’s phone number?”

  All coherent thought fled her mind moments later, as her noble dance partner struck a low bow before her waiting for her answering curtsy before engaging her in a spirited reel, spinning her in broad circles around the room to the sound of a classical piano—one played in the corner by Helen Feek, one of her counselors at the shelter.

  For just a moment, their public surroundings dissolved leaving the two of them swirling and swaying in their own dreamy otherworld of romance and grandeur.

  Staring deep into his emerald eyes, Callie thrilled as Aidan fixed his hands around her buxom waist and twirled her across the floor, their feet floating graceful as they performed a carefully rehearsed dance that nonetheless brimmed with emotion.

  Their bodies moving closer together than was fitting for a traditional Victorian dance, the couple’s proper reel soon evolved into something of an intimate tango. They writhed shamelessly together as the assembled crowd roared with approval.

  Losing herself to the feeling, Callie found herself immersed in a sinful tango that claimed her being whole, once again immersing her and her lover in an intense web of mutual desire.

  Shutting her eyes tight, Callie just barely heard the keys of a classical piano above the pounding of her own heart. Suddenly her senses brimmed with an aura of serenity tinged with the heat of bare, raw desire.

  The illusion was shattered moments later, as she heard the sound of a loud, rude voice erupt from the crowd before them, bringing her attention to a man whose face and voice seemed eerily familiar.

  “Well just look at the fat cow,” she immediately recognized the weasly face and slurred voice of Peter Thompson, the ex-boyfriend whose boorish, abusive ways had first inspired her career at the shelter. “Trying to be some sort of a dance star. I’d like to knock you right off that hoity toity new pedestal you’re on, heifer!”

  An eerie silence overtook the crowd as the featured dancers at the center of the room froze in their places, the music that guided their movements ceasing abrupt as both turned to face her tormentor.

  “That’s him,” Callie whispered to a silent Aidan. “That’s the ex-boyfriend who made a sport of hitting and humiliating me.”

  She jumped as her lover met these words with an unearthly roar, turning his head to show a startled Callie the face of a man transformed.

  Aidan’s emerald eyes now glowed an unearthly shade of gold, his full lips parted to reveal a set of fierce sharp fangs that he now bared in the direction of her surly ex-boyfriend. Raising his hands before him, her transformed lover now revealed a set of elongated fingernails that bore a chilling resemblance to claws.

  Charging headfirst into the crowd, her enraged defender attacked the man who insulted and threatened his lady, knocking him off his feet with the swipe of a claw before baring his sharp fangs savagely in his direction.

  Jumping to his feet with a startled scream, a frightened Peter raced from the scene with frenzied steps, the crowd parting before him as he escaped the ballroom.

  Racing to the side of her noble defender, Callie rested her hand on his shoulder as he covered his face with his hands, turning toward the crowd as she addressed them in an amplified voice, “Hey, everyone. As you can tell, my partner here is not only a great dancer, but an amazing actor as well. And I sincerely hope that you enjoyed our little dramatic presentation here today. Hey, who doesn’t love vampires?!” she paused here, adding as she shifted her gaze in the direction of the man she loved, “I know I do.”

  ***

  “Why did you defend me back there? Why didn’t you turn and run?”

  After the fund-raiser came to a rousing finale with the performance of a group dance, its two stars retreated to a room adjoining the grand ballroom, specifically, to an equally elegant space that Callie quickly identified as Aidan’s bedroom.

  A study in elegance that found its centerpiece in a lush canopied bed of pure lavender satin, the room served as a private refuge of the couple that now lay with their bodies entangled down the length of his lavish cover.

  “Why are you here with me now?” Aidan repeated in anguish, cupping Callie’s flushed face in two tender hands, “When you now know me for the monster I am?”

  Turning her face, Callie pressed her soft lips to the palm of Aidan’s hand as she stared deep into his eyes.

  “My abuser was the monster, Aidan, not you,” she assured him, adding with a gentle smile, “You didn’t run away when I needed you, now did you? So why would I abandon you?”

  She took in her breath as her lover surged forward to grace her lips with an impassioned kiss.

  “Somehow I knew from the moment I first saw that you would accept me. You’re the kindest woman I’ve ever met, Callie,” Aidan praised her, adding as he cast his gaze downward, “I only wish I had met you in college, before I met the awful vamp who attacked me at a campus party—changing my life forever.” He paused here, adding with a shrug, “Of course, it was my affliction that allowed me to frighten away my mother’s abuser—just as I did yours. Still I can’t help but feel like something of a freak.”

  He smiled then as a determined Callie swept him up in adoring arms, covering his body with hers as she graced his carved face with a virtual rain of sweet baby kisses.

  “You’re not a freak, you’re an angel,” she whispered, adding as their arms and legs entangled between them, “You’re my angel.”

  The besotted couple made quick work of their clothes as they lost themselves in an impassioned cocoon, their sweaty limbs entangling as they collapsed on the bed in a passionate frenzy.

  Ravishing his lady with a rain of kisses that graced her face, her neck and her tender breasts, Aidan swept her up in his arms and rolled over on top of her, his shaft soaring erect as he growled his arousal and pulled her closer to him.

  Running his adoring hand over the rounded stomach that other Peter had mocked, Aidan kissed her senseless as their bodies writhed together, their nipples scraping against each other to create additional friction.

  “I want and need to be one with you,” he growled against her lips. “Now, my sweet.”

  With these words he fully and finally joined them as one plunging his long hard shaft to the depths of her wet femininity. Their hips claimed their usual electric rhythm as they rolled wild across the length of the bed, their lips uniting in what seemed a timeless kiss as their tongues and fingers joined between them.

  “I love you,” they said in unison, dancing to their own spoken duet as their cries of passion set fire to the night.

  The End

  *****

  Cherished for Centuries: Historical and Contemporary Vampire Romance

  19th Century, England

  The moon was big and bright tonight, enough to light the way for two young lovers meeting in secret. It was considered improper for unmarried men and women to meet privately this late at night and would surely cause a blow to the lady’s
reputation, but both of them thought it was a risk worth taking. After all, they were sure that they were meant for each other, and any ramifications to the lady’s person would easily be corrected by the young man’s offer of marriage.

  In fact, the very idea of marriage has been occupying the young man’s mind for quite some time now, almost to the point of distraction.

  “Asher, are you sure you’re alright?” the lady huffed, stomping her foot in anger. The young man known as Asher shook his head, bringing the lady’s hand to his lips for a kiss.

  “I’m alright, my love. I’m sorry for worrying you,” he took a deep breath and faced her, steeling himself to ask what could very well be the most important question of his life.

  “Lisbeth,” he started, and she tilted her head with a smile, patiently waiting for him to continue. “We’ve been seeing each other for a while now. I know your father doesn’t find me suitable for you because I’m not of noble birth but,” he dropped to one knee and pulled out a ring from his pocket, making Lisbeth gasp. “I promise I will do whatever I can to make you happy, Lisbeth. I’ll work hard and give you everything you want, everything you deserve. So please marry me,”

  Lisbeth’s eyes started tearing up, making Asher panic. He stood up and cradled her face with his hands, worried that the reason she was crying was because she didn’t want him. Lisbeth grabbed the front of Asher’s coat and pushed her toes up, pressing her lips to Asher's. He was surprised, but he responded with fervor.

  After a few moments, they pulled apart, smiling at each other. Lisbeth extended her ring finger for Asher to put the ring in, but just as Asher was about to oblige, when the sound of people laughing interrupted them.

  Asher pushed himself in front of Lisbeth, shielding her from any potential harm. Lisbeth clutched at Asher’s back as forms started to make its way out of the shadows and into the light of the moon. Five men revealed themselves, their eyes red and their faces split into a wide grin, making them look crazed, almost feral. Their clothes were caked with dirt and grunge, with cuts and broken seams here and there.

  “Ooh, such a sweet rendezvous we have here,” one of them sneered, coming closer to the couple. Asher held Lisbeth’s hand tightly, resolved to run as soon as they could escape.

  “Gentlemen, it’s quite late. I’m very sorry for disturbing your group. Please allow me to escort the lady home, now.” Asher implored, but the leader of the group shook his head while the others continued laughing maliciously.

  “What’s the rush, young lad? Surely, the pretty lady wouldn’t mind if we joined your little...fun,” he reached out his hand to grasp a lock of Lisbeth’s hair only for her to slap it away. The man growled, and Asher kicked him to the ground and pulled Lisbeth into a run.

  The couple turned at an alley, Asher knowing a shortcut to get to Lisbeth’s house. He took a left and collided with someone’s hard chest. Asher and Lisbeth stumbled into the ground and were surprised that the person Asher collided with was the leader of the group.

  Asher stood up quickly, pulling Lisbeth to her feet and holding her to his chest protectively. ‘How had he arrived here before they did?’ Asher thought. The sound of rushing footsteps from the other side alerted him that they were surrounded.

  “Please, you can do what you want with me, but let her go,” Asher begged, but the leader of the group shook his head.

  “Such gallantry. But I’m afraid we’re creatures past that, boy.” As quick as a blink, he had Asher in a chokehold and raised him up in the air. Lisbeth screamed but was quickly subdued by the four men, pulling her and holding her to the wall as they cackled.

  Asher pulled at the leader’s hands desperately, his eyes burning with hatred for this mysterious man. The stranger opened his mouth in a wide smile, and Asher’s eyes widened at what he saw.

  The man’s fangs elongated, sharpening until the tip almost glinted off the light from the nearby lamppost. He laughed at Asher’s continued struggles, enjoying himself.

  “I like you, boy. Therefore, I’ll give you a treat.” He put Asher back down to the ground and turned him towards Lisbeth, who was struggling in vain from the men who tore her dress little by little. Asher continued to fight against the man’s hold, but he was too strong.

  “I’ll let you watch, as my friends enjoy undressing your woman. And then, we’ll drain her of her blood while we enjoy ourselves with her.” Asher growled as his struggles increased, and the leader cooed in awe, adjusting his grip on him. “You entertain me, boy. So I’ll throw in something special.” He tilted Asher’s head to the side, and Asher yelled as he felt the man’s teeth sink into the spot where his shoulder and neck meet, the man sucking his blood greedily.

  Asher’s legs started to quiver in the extreme pain he felt, and he unconsciously closed his eyes to block it out. The sound of Lisbeth’s scream snapped him out of it, and he cried as he watched the group savagely rape her in front of him, biting into her wrist, her neck, and her breast while one of them entered her. When the first was finished, another took his place and by the third Lisbeth ceased her resistance, her eyes empty and turned towards Asher and the leader of the group.

  The leader, instead of draining Asher completely, dropped him to the ground and went back to the group. Lisbeth’s arm twitched she extended her arm weakly towards Asher. He forced his weak body to move, but he could barely crawl towards her. He helplessly extended his hand, inches away from her, before the man stomped on his back, preventing him from coming closer.

  “Fighting till the end. I like your spirit,” the leader snarled.

  “What shall we do with them, sir?” one of the men asked, kicking Asher in the stomach.

  “Leave the boy. I like seeing him battle in vain.” He crouched on top of Asher’s body, forcing him to look him dead in the eye. Asher’s eyes glared, filled with contempt and abhorrence for this stranger and his band of vampires who attacked them without cause or mercy. “Find me, boy. Try and kill me for what I’ve done. I’ll gladly take you on.” He turned Asher’s head to the side and leaned close to his ears, whispering his name then let him go. He stood up and adjusted his clothing.

  “What about the girl?”

  He smirked evilly at Asher and turned to walk away, before giving his order.

  “Burn her.”

  The men nodded in agreement and quickly did his bidding, setting Lisbeth’s tattered clothes on fire and throwing them all over her.

  Asher’s eyes pooled with tears as he could do nothing but scream and watch as flames slowly consumed his beloved.

  ***

  Present Day

  Asher breathed heavily, wiping the sweat of his brow as the memories from his past haunted him again. He would never forget the moment his life changed…or more accurately, the moment his life ended.

  He glanced at the alarm clock, noting that he had woken up three hours before he had to but decided to get up anyway. He threw the covers down, stretched the taut muscles on his neck and arms and stepped in front of the salmon ladder.

  This was his routine now. He’d exercise at home then take a ten mile run around the city to clear his head. Of course, regular exercise didn't do anything for him anymore because he wasn’t human. Technically, he didn’t need to work out. He just needed something to clear his mind, and doing these things just added to his preparation for the big day that he’d finally kill his murderer and maker. A day he was starting to think wouldn’t happen at all.

  About 200 years had passed since that fateful day, give or take a few decades, and a lot had changed in the world during that time. Asher had stayed on the sidelines of a couple of wars, and joined a few out of boredom, but never enough to cause a huge shift for the winning side. Just enough to quell his frustration over a lot of things.

  And a lot of things had happened after he had woken up.

  He remembered waking up in a cell, the guards telling him that police found him next to a burnt body. Since Lisbeth’s family resented him and weren’t aware she left that
night, they accused him of killing her. He was hanged, and the next night he dug himself out of the ground they buried him in. The sun weakened him, and over exposure to its rays made his skin burn. But as soon as the sun was down, he was strong enough to lift a car with one hand, his eyes could count every tile on a bridge from miles away, and his ears could pick up sounds from three blocks over. It was hard trying to tune everything out, and it took him months until he was able to pass as a regular human being, but he had managed.

  Another thing he had managed was his need for blood. He only drank enough to survive, and he didn’t enjoy the process. He made sure that his victim didn’t remember what happened, and he never drained more than he had to survive. He even licked the wounds clean, so there wouldn’t be a mark, and then he’d move on with his life. For a while when he was just a young vampire, he thought that nothing could be worse than his predicament. Unfortunately, life had a way of proving him wrong.

  Asher let go of the bar and dropped gracefully back to the floor. He swiped his hand through the sweat on his abdomen while walking into the bathroom, and he proceeded to strip.

  Life gets crazier each year,’ he thought, letting the spray of warm water soothe his muscles. He contemplated the first time he had seen her again, and how his heart did a double take after every encounter.

  Asher’s eyes widened, struck dumb at the impossible sight standing a few feet away from him. She looked older, but as he looked closely, there was no mistaking her shining violet eyes, that slender nose, those lips he always ached to feel, and the slight freckle on the side of her nose…

  It was Lisbeth, in the flesh.

  But how? Asher couldn’t believe it. He had watched her burn that night. Even if it was her, how is she alive 75 years since then, and still looking as young as she is now?