Thursday Threads 208

Ambrosia took delicate sips of her tea. She looked up at the night, pin pricked with glittering diamonds but never outshining the moon, reminding her there was a sun as its rays reflected on the lump of celestial rock, creating a silver stream of light in her world of darkness.

She finished her tea, gazing ahead. “You can come out now. We’ve stalked each other for hours, day after day. I’m tired of fighting.”

Like a shadow, Damon moved through the thicket into view. “I imagined you’d drink something stronger.”

“Nothing cleanses the palate of blood like tea.” She poured him a cup, her eyes never leaving him. “So what now, Hunter?”

He gulped the tea, swiping his hand over his mouth when finished. “I’m no hunter if the prey chooses not to run.” He smiled.

It was the first show of warmth from any human and Ambrosia liked it. “Can I suggest a truce?”

Damon studied her porcelain complexion, glowing in the moonlight, surrounded by luscious dark curls. “What about the deal with your family? I know you have until dawn to kill me. Or you die.”

“I have places they will never find me. I can’t kill you, you can’t kill me. It’s like we’re meant to coexist. I like that.”

He leant over, his lips crushing hers. He looked into her eyes of black. “Your family can have you.” He snapped silver cuffs on her delicate wrists, her skin blistering as he walked back into darkness.

249

Written for Siobhan Muir's Thursday Threads at The Weird, the Wild and the Wicked

  

Daily Picspiration Piece Traitor

A little treat for those who are already familiar with my vampire, Luke and his companion Claudette. A little back story for you written for my Daily Picspiration entry as I continue with the story for this year's Nanowrimo. xxx    

Traitor

Picking up a pencil, Claudette scraped it along the desktop, gouging a trail the length of the desk, again and again until the pencil snapped in half. She threw it to the floor, admiring her work on the antique desk. This was Luke’s sanctuary, a place where he contemplated, relaxed, plotted and studied. He allowed no one in unless invited. Invitations were rare. Once behind the large oak doors, Luke shut out the world he had created, the world where the metallic taste of blood hung thick in the air, where the constant groans from slaves murmured throughout the walls, their wails and screams echoing through his bones, where his family laughed, argued, fought and feasted. 

It wasn’t a lifestyle choice, being a vampire. He was taken. Murdered. Only to be given life by the vampire who stalked him, wore him down before brutally feeding from his pulsating neck. Life had been good. Luke, an original Knight of the Garter, knighted by The Black Prince himself, the age where chivalry was standard, where knights jousted and fought for honour, love and bravery. Luke loved his life. But Francois set his sights on him, desired him, and hungered for the pure blood that ran through his veins. But Luke didn’t give up easily which only endeared Francois more to his quarry, respecting Luke’s fortitude, his desire to live, his spirit to fight. 

Luke still carried these traits now, over eight hundred years later; the spirit of the fight, loving his prey to run, defend, fight to the last which was pointless against a vampire but addictive to his soul. Yes, vampires had souls. Luke’s soul was like any other soul belonging to a vampire; dark, mysterious, black and predatory. He savoured the hunt. He relished each victim on their own merit. But he had only ever taken one into his world; Claudette. 

He remembered the evening he first saw her, at the opening of the Louvre in 1793. He followed her in as she admired the limited works on display. He read her thoughts on every painting and sculpture, learnt much, hungered for her more. She chatted politely, curtsied when royalty approached. Her spirit captivated him and he spent the next three nights following her until he could bare it no more. Arm in arm they walked to a quiet spot by the Seine where he revealed his true self. She ran, screaming which only aroused Luke more causing his fangs to extend. 

Giving Claudette a head start he strolled along the river bank, her scent in his nostrils; the thick smell of fear, the metallic scent of her blood mingling with sweetness of her sweat. He caught her, mid flight, whisking her off her feet, burying his face in her neck, an insatiable thirst. But he couldn’t finish. He needed a companion since Francois had died. Wanted Claudette. She would forgive him in good time just like he had done with Francois. 

Claudette stared down at the desk, at her handy work. Luke would know it was her. Luke would now know what it was like to be betrayed. The etched W in the desk meant one thing to both of them; witch. Luke’s dalliances with the young witch had brought shame on the clan, his own clan. How could he hide the witch from them and keep her powers to himself? It was treachery. And Luke was about to find out how traitors were dealt with in the vampire world. No mercy would be given. it didn’t matter that he was their leader, the head of the family or the most powerful. It just made Claudette more determined for with Luke out of the way, she would have the witch to herself and become head of the family. With Kian by her side, they would be unstoppable. 

#BlogFlash2012 Day 1 Thinking

It's here! #BlogFlash 2012. 30 days of blogs for August, 50-100 words for each one starting with day one; Thinking. I was a bit nervous in signing up as a 100 words a day on a prompt I felt was a challenge too far but then I thought it would be fun and those of you who know me know that I like a challenge. So here it is, my first apprehensive entry in  #BlogFlash 2012. Hope you like and enjoy meeting a character you have recently been introduced to in 'Scarlet.' xx

The First Drink

‘You think too much. This is your new life now.’ Jacob eyed the work Louie had just finished; the neat mark on the woman’s neck as she lay under the tree like she was sleeping. ‘And how did she taste? Better than the filthy rats you feast on?’

‘Forgive me taking my time when taking a life. It does not come easy to me even if I am a vampire. I will contemplate as long as I need.’ He stared at his first human kill, not wanting to admit the thirst he now craved or the conscience he still held. . .   



100 words

Scarlet 5 Sentence Fiction

What it’s all about: Five Sentence Fiction is about packing a powerful punch in a tiny fist. Each week Lillie will post a one word inspiration, then anyone wishing to participate will write a five sentence story based on the prompt word. The word does not have to appear in your five sentences, just use it for direction.

This week: Scarlet

And there she was, sitting alone beside the river; her full, plump lips as red as the blood coursing through her veins, causing a stir of desire to erupt deep within him.  The journey to find her, the one, didn’t take long despite the throng of people going about their business, not noticing Louie as he glided through until he sat next to her, the opportunity of his find over whelming him.

Her smell was intoxicating, her skin pearlescent with beads of sweat from the Louisiana heat and when her eyes met his, he knew she was his; dark pools of emptiness and despair waiting to be rescued and he felt obliged, as well as excited, to do his bidding.

The music became louder, an underlying throbbing beat, matching his heart and hers as they became one; sinking his teeth into her slender neck and drinking until her body became limp; he had had his fill.