FATED
Of Blood and Magic
Delicious David
Copyright © 2020 Delicious David
All rights reserved
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
To all, that stood beside me in every circumstance
Blurb
The last remaining survivor of a rare vampire hunter clan, Becca, unknowing to her, is set to soon be the soulmate of a millennium-old vampire, Luke. The coming and binding of the strings of their fate and the fiery passion they wield, is soon to be tested by the cold claws of the symmetry of life and death situations.
After a millennium of being hunted down by the vampire hunters and living his undead life without a mate, with the coming of a new millennium as the prophecy proclaims, his soulmate will come from a place most unlikely and he is fired up to see it is Becca, from his arch enemies.
He seeks her out and makes ways to force her to be his mate. In this sizzling romance, the rage of Luke piques the dark cravings of Becca and she begins to succumb to him. What does the future hold for them? Will Luke’s barbaric attitude push Becca further away, or can he adjust enough to win her over? Will Becca ignore her feelings and destroy Luke as she was trained to do? Find out in this story.
THE PROLOGUE
Sometimes, I dare say that the word rage or the primary emotion of it does not explain or communicate the real anger and fury a being feels when they are said to be full of rage. But definitely, there is, however, one being that could give you the meaning of rage in its whole “awesomeness” and full power, that the mere sight of his eyes burns away the calm, peace, and good that any other being cares to have.
In his eyes lies years of struggles, hardship, and rage. Many stories have been told across the world of his exploits but, alas! It never compares to having the real being by your side. For centuries, the ancient clan of the vampire hunters fought tirelessly to kill the vampires and rid the world of their pure evil, but killing just one being—HIM, has been hard. Contracting witches to work with the clan has been their most significant win yet. However, the vampire’s soul is far too strong to be killed by mere mortals. He is said to be the direct descendant to Ambrogio, The First.
The rage he feels is nothing compared to the sorrow that burrows deep in his cold heart. That sorrow of searching every corner of the world all for one person. One person that would be his mate. That one person that was made solely for him. That one being that would reign with Him for all eternity. Sometimes, living alone makes you want to die, but when you cannot just die, because of the undead life, you die with every minute that passes. The witches in harmony with the hunters made a pact with the devil to bind his soul in the center of the earth just below the city of Transylvania, Romania.
With the use of black magic and blood, the Wiccans and the vampire hunter present at the sealing, sacrificed themselves to seal him away till the end of time. Waist deep in the rocks and his head covered with a bronze metal head covering, he is sealed with time, blood, and ancient chains to hold down his beastly self. Nothing was going to stop his sealing away.
With nothing to live for and no one to fight for, he dies away slowly, yet, lives even more for the emotions and feelings that have ever been—finding his soul mate. His fated queen. Like a dog on a leash, he obediently stays sealed away, no movement but thoughts though waning, was strong enough to wander and wander around the city, in search for HER. Her existence is not what keeps him, but the hope that she is out there, and he will someday meet her. HOPE is a great thing. Some people call it having faith.
In here, he just waits and suffers the brunt of being caught by the clan and giving up because there was no mate by his side to smile and fight all “evil” with him. This is a never-ending suffering. Fire cannot kill him, swords cannot kill him; nothing now can kill him, but the rejection by his destined mate. The denial that no matter what, he would never see his fated queen. Never would he be accepted by his fated mate, or would she like him? Would she see him as too old for her queenly self? These thoughts are hot and burn faster than hells fury.
But nothing has gotten him this close and alive than the hope he still has. It preserves him.
Behold, his senses have come alive. Alive to the scent of the richness, rareness, royalty, and sweetness in this blood!
“That is her! I have found my mate! That scent is rich and sexy! I must get out of here and make her mine, no matter what it costs me,” he growls under his breath.
The city above has now become useful. His whole existence and being came alive instantly. Now, his suffering had a new meaning—all to meet the one woman that was meant for him alone. The city now has a use at last. Over the years, as the pages of time kept opening and closing centuries crawling slowly away, he had always seen nothing good of the world above. There were a lot of gory events, the streets were dull, and they reeked of the awful smells of disorderliness, greed, and selfishness of the crazy mortals.
But now, everything has changed. He has found her. The one person that he searched through the years and found her not. The seasons have changed, the times are different because the scent is now so strong that he cannot stay bound by the measly magic and sloppy sacrifice is made to hold down a direct descendant of The First.
His life voyages and travails in an instant flashed through his eyes like an epiphany and then realized he had lived a great life. That scent made everything he had been through all worth it. Now, the chains that cut through his old skin never mattered to him anymore. Suddenly, he could feel his youth flame burning in him. The fountain was never going to quench from the new scent.
Slowly, his old aged skin started becoming fresh and soft again. The wrinkles and sag of time became anew. His hair was turning silky, red-flame back. His rage turned to power, and his power mixed with his hope gave him all the strength he needed to wield his way out of the center of the earth.
The earth above quaked as he powered his way from the shackles of his enemies. People in the streets above were running around, all in hopes of not being crushed by a rock. It was the old city of Transylvania after all.
FOR HER, HE WILL DO ANYTHING. FOR HER, HE WILL RISK BEING KILLED BY THE RESTRAINTS. FOR HIMSELF, HE MUST SEE HER.
He doesn’t have time to disbelieve what he’s accomplished. His fated mate is so close, and he can almost feel her.
He is in total need of her. There’s a subtle victory, but her scent was fading...
Time was running out, the sweet scent, the scent of his destined mate, was fast beginning to fade away. The only choice was leaving the restraints he so despised. Nothing was going to take his soul mate away from him this time, not again. With a growl, he begins a little ancient chant... raba da shiba da bintusta, rabadasintubinti sta. Slowly, bronze metal head covering snapped, leaving his head bare. He sighs. A newer strength came over him. He growls as he pulls himself from the rocks fastening him to the earth. He does this slowly as he remembers the incident that gets him caught and cast away like a vermin. He remembers the ritual that was made to keep him away forever. The blood of the Wiccans and vampire hunters of that day, centuries ago. As he pulled and struggled his wrinkled flesh away from the rocks, the chains became more potent on him. The hold on him became even more potent than ever.
He sniffs around to make sure his love is still around and close by. Will she see his s
truggles and come to his aid or kill him when she sees him? So many thoughts came rushing to him. However, he never gives up his battle. The chains begin to glow red hot with smoke filling the center, where he was. It is seeping out his life force. The escape wasn't going to be an easy task. He could hear the screams of those present at the ritual. The more he pulls, the more he is skinned like a barbecue.
The chains start to burn with them glowing as he begins to hear the chants of his captors. He is almost there out of the restraints. The metals fall at his feet. His hands are free. He is weak, and he starts to hear more chants from the chains on the ground. These chants are from the blood of his captors as they made his “prison” from their blood and general life force. With his skin almost pulled from his body, blood seeps out from his being steady. He attempts to pull his lower body from the earth, and in the confusion of what to do, he shouts, making more vibrations from the core of the earth, leaving the surface somewhat weak. He attempts to remove his sore legs from the ground, and he is held back with an invisible hand.
The rocks start to cover him from his feet up. The thoughts of losing his fated love begin to ebb him into sadness and slowly, depression. He has lost. He has suffered his fate yet again and lost to his weakness. Nothing compares to this his new weakness. He resigns to being a captive again. As his knee is almost covered up in rocks, he wakes up. He isn't about to give up. He growls heavily and pulls off his right leg from the earth, tearing his ligaments apart. Flesh, bones, and blood now remained in where his leg used to be, with his left leg freeing from the earth with clawed marks and blood. He is free! Free and weak. He hasn't won yet. The rocks will soon catch up with, but he is weak. Filled with blood, his life force almost away as it escapes with the air, and losing a limb; all he can think of burying his head in the sweet breasts of his beloved, her scent gives him a jolt of all the power he needs to wrestle himself through the earth. The earth seems to move to pull him back to themselves, and at this rate, he will be pulled back, and surely, he will lose her forever.
She calls out to him in his head, “come to me.” He pulls through and jets through the surface and out of the cursed earth in which he laid captive, and unto a dark alleyway. He is covered in blood, tired from the “fight” and hungry from centuries of hungry. He is thirsty. The thirst is nothing compared to the thirst finding his fated mate will quench. She is his love, his everything—the single reason to want to carry on living in this cursed world. Nothing is more critical... nothing is more important than his beloved.
The scent is very faint now. All tired and very weary, all he can smell is the refuse littered around him and dog poop that has smeared his right leg, or what's left of it. Steps behind him are the earth from whence he came, gradually and slowly, it closes up. He won! This is the first of all wins. I will stop at nothing until I find you, “the chaos I will bring upon this earth will be an ant compared to centuries ago, in my golden days! Find her; I must!” He groaned.
He has lost a lot of blood. He staggers crazily, and he can't see a thing. His vision is blurred from so much loss of blood. I must find her, and destiny has brought us both together. Nothing can stop this now. He tries sniffing her scent again, he gets it, but it is still faint. He is losing it, and IT IS GONE. He collapses into the refuse and is knocked out.
CHAPTER 1
THE ENCOUNTER
FEW HOURS TO THE BREAK OF DAWN and look, and Luke is still passed out in the dark alleyway, all still, collapsed in the refuse dump. Momentarily, he hears footsteps approaching him, and he moves slightly. Looking around, he finds the place very familiar. “I think I have been here before,” he mutters under his breath.
The air around feels familiar, the old brick walls, the rhythmic flickering of the streetlight in the distance, and the dents on the wall beside him.
“Have things not changed around here after so long?” He ponders.
The footsteps reach him, and he must get away from the sight before he is discovered sloppy in a pool of his blood and torn flesh looking all gory and messy. He recoils into the corner and stays still, hiding in the dark as he looks at the couple approach holding hands. In the dark, with Luke's blur vision and weak self, it is hard to make out what they looked like. He could, however, tell they were about to fuck in the dark alleyway. “Is this how it is done now? I take it back, things have really changed!” He soliloquizes.
With soft moans in the distance with the male partner turning the female to her back, he pulls her hair and pins her on the sturdy brick wall. She resists a little, he tells her, her resistance makes him hard, with her replying, “I know, baby.” She lifts her skirt up a little to reveal bare buttocks. Still backing him, she feels his cock in his pants, and a greedy partner couldn't wait to romance her again and opens his zippers to fuck her. With her right hand on her pussy, fingering herself, she grabs his cock with the left and led his already erect cock to her ass hole. As they do their “business,” footsteps are heard. This time, it is just one person. His silhouette stands tall at the beginning of the alleyway, just after the flickering streetlight. With a hood over his head and a nine mm handgun held stylishly with an intent to kill, he walks slowly to the unsuspecting couples having the fun of their lives. To them, if life ended then, it was a life well spent.
Luke looks closely, watching to see what would happen next. He is drained of his blood, his leg and skin need regeneration; he needs blood for that. He had sworn not to engage in anything needless after he was captured centuries ago. It was apparent he may need to intervene, but first, he needed to watch his prey. Give it time to act otherwise. The dreaded silhouette walked down to the couple and hassles the man, “give me all your money,” he howls at him, fastening his gun to sides, threateningly.
“Hey man, can’t you see we are busy here?” The man replies, staggering back. Oblivious indications he was drunk and just wanted to fuck his woman and walk home. The silhouette, leaving no room for reasoning, pulled his trigger and left in his sides, blasting open his guts and liver. The loud bang left the woman in shock as her mans cock escapes the confines of her ass hole and falls dead on the ground.
She begins to shout and beg in fear, “please, please, please. Please don’t kill me,” she said. I have nothing on me, she follows with a whisper with her nude on her knees with both her hands together as though she was praying to her creator. “Please!!!!!” she shouts.
“No one will hear you here.” He says with a hysterical grin on face. “Haven’t you heard that this is an abandoned area of the city? This used to be a bar for lifeblood meals for vampires of the old?” He says, holding her. “Suck my cock, woman. I want you to choke on it.”
“I said this place was familiar to me. Some things just have to stay within the confines of time. It time to die for you fool.”
Like a shadow over the robber, Luke descends on his neck, ripping it open in an unusual way, not regular to vampires. The blood splatters over the brick walls and the woman down on her knees. In shock, she stays mute and scared.
“Go, leave here this minute, and if you tell anyone what you saw here, I will come for you too!” He roars.
“Yes, yes, yes, sir.” She says as she runs away.
“Stay away from this area; it is dangerous,” he warns with a deep baritone voice. He drains the robber of his blood, and a lifeless dismembered body is left.
With beautiful skin, all turning soft and young, the real red flame hair became brighter and slowly, but steadily, his leg starts to grow back. “What bitter blood he has, such a waste of human flesh!” He blurted out with strength in his voice. “I think this will do for now.” The cock crowed as it signifies dawn, and Luke is gone with the crow, vanishes into thin air.
TWO MOONS PASSED since the escape of Luke from his eternal prison and no word of him. Today is the day for the long-awaited monthly ball for the high, mighty and wealthy of the city. The dames, dukes, and mighty in the city come to dance monthly, wearing ceremonial regalia, laughing and lounging while being
served by the commoners. It is truly a time to be careless in style.
The nightlife for the day was indeed a spectacle. Royalties from different cities come, snake dancers, gypsies, and performers all come to make the event more than a ball, a magnificent ceremony at best. Not only did royalties and artists come to enjoy themselves, but there were also thieves, rapists, kidnappers, and robbers in the crowd. To each, his own agenda, but surely, the ball must surely go on nonetheless.
The ambiance of the ball is one that clearly depicts the different classes of people in society. In a new age, the creation or recreation of lords and lady system was played in a colorful display. In the center of the ball was a large bonfire with gypsies dancing next to nude drunk and laughing. It was an erotic display of their lifestyle for who cared to watch them. Sitting with pride, where the rich and mighty, holding their glasses stylishly chatting away. The moon was full, and everywhere was well-lit. The festival, as it was referred to, some attendants soon became really crowded. With music blaring through everyone's ears, you can only hear what anyone says by speaking directly into their ears. Everyone now in sync, dancing to the music, movements were in symphony with each other; you would think everyone was under ecstasy, something they called cloud nine. It seemed weird as the euphoria in the atmosphere looked somewhat dangerous.
Becca McCoy, on the other hand, felt moved by none of this. Like a young adult who prefers the comforts of her bedroom—man extreme introvert—she was just “passing through.” The thoughts of sweat and other body fluids of humans (as she refers them) rubbing each other with heightened palpitations and senses of the crowd coupled with their weird demeanors, it all just spelled nothing but disgust to her. But she had to come for the ball nonetheless.
Fated (Of Blood and Magic Book 1) Page 1
