8 comments/ 17322 views/ 1 favorites Eternal Love By: BOSTONFICTIONWRITER Her friends thought her crazy and that she had money to burn when she bought a small parcel of land from the city in the dog park across from her penthouse condominium for one million dollars. Her friends thought her crazy when she spent all of her free time walking her land with her dog and sitting alone on the park bench in the moonlight talking and laughing to herself while listening to the brook babbling behind her. Her friends thought her crazy when she asked to be buried there in the shade of the Maple tree. Her friends who thought her crazy did not understand why she did what she did. They just thought that she worked too much and too hard and needed someone in her life. This is Katherine's story. Katherine had it all, beauty, career, and money, only, she did not have a man in her life. She was at that forty-something age where she still had a chance at love and at romance, if she wanted it, and still had a chance at having a baby and a family, if she wanted that, too. Yet, when it came to making personal life decisions that conflicted with her career, she was her worst enemy never giving herself a break or credit for all that she had already done. She knew that if she committed to a man now and/or to a baby later, that would be it for her career, her independence, and her lifestyle. Could she trade everything she worked so hard to build for love, for a man, for a baby, and for a family? It was, of course, an improbable question to ask and an impossible question to answer, especially now, since she did not have a man in her life and was not in love and had never been in love. Foremost in her life, her career came first. Now, that she was on top of her field, CEO of her own profitable company, making her own hours and working much of the time from home, her success rang empty without someone there to share it with her. She had no one to buy those cute and funny greeting cards for that she always happened to stumble over and laugh at in the card shop. She had no one to curl up to at night and wake up with the next morning. She had no one to talk to and/or listen to while sharing morning coffee or an evening nightcap. She had no one to hold her hand, hug her, kiss her, or walk with her through the picturesque park just across the street. She had no one to share a laugh or to wipe away her tears. She had no one to call seven times a day, just to hear his voice, to tell him she missed him and that she loved him. She had no one who truly cared about her in the way that only a lover would. She had no one. For someone who was so classy, cultured, and educated, you would think that she would have an army of men surrounding her and wanting her, but she did not. She was alone and she was lonely. Most men shrunk and disappeared in the shadow that her accomplishments cast. Most men did not want to constantly and contently take the back seat to her success, relegating themselves to the number two position. As most women have become accustomed, complacently accepting their passenger seat role, no man wanted only to be known as Katherine's husband. It took a special and confident man, self-assured in who he is, to love a strong and competitive woman, as was Katherine Davis. Opinionated and articulate, she knew who she was and fought for those things she needed in her life that maintained her core of strength, power, and influence. For months, since she moved to Boston from New York, sitting by her picture window while sipping a martini or working from her home office with her coffee getting cold, she watched from afar envying the people who congregated in the dog park with their dogs pairing off to walk the tree lined paths enjoying one another's company, nature, and the day, as their dogs did their business. Lonely enough to take desperate action and hoping to meet a man at the dog park, too, she bought a dog, an Afghan hound she named Ava. As graceful and as elegant as was her dog, she with her tall presence, fashionably expensive clothes and confident walk, and the dog with her handsome lines, flowing, multi-colored hair, and beautiful gait, they looked good together. She lived alone in the city, high up, in one of those penthouse condominiums that overlooked the dog park, the kind of luxury accommodations that had the doorman who knows everyone by name and who sees you coming and going even when you do not want him to see you. That's what you tip him for; to remember you on the days you want to be remembered and to forget you on the days that you want to be forgotten. She had tried bars, social functions, business meetings, blind dates, well meaning, matchmaking friends, and even the Internet to meet a man. All she met were married men, dysfunctional men, needy men, mommy's men, men looking for someone to take care of them, and players. Presently, even the players looked good to her. At least, she knew what they wanted and where she stood with them. Now, she wondered if she would find anyone. Maybe, her standards were too high. Maybe, she was looking for all the right things but in all the wrong men. Maybe, she should dumb herself down to the men's level. She laughed at the thought of acting like the dumb, sexy blonde. Certainly, she was good looking enough and had the body to pull it off. Maybe, she should turn lesbian. She laughed at the thought of licking a pussy instead of sucking a cock. Still, at least, the thought of turning lesbian meant that she would never be alone and would have a loyal community and close knit network of other women who shared her sexual orientation. Only, she was not lesbian. She liked men, the way they looked, how they smelled, the way they talked, how they felt, and how they acted. The best times of her day were when taking Ava to the dog park. Sure, she could have paid someone to walk the dog but she enjoyed the fresh air, the exercise, and watching her dog interact with other dogs and people. Besides, it was a nice break from the tediousness that her work had suddenly become and, after all, she was hoping to meet a special someone. Then, suddenly, from out of nowhere, there he was, that handsome man she met with Polo, that adorable Rat Terrier. What was his name? Frankie, Jackie, Jimmie, Freddie, that's it, Freddie, his name was Freddie. At least, he had a brain in his head and he likes tits. More than once, she caught him looking at her ample cleavage. More than once she felt him checking out her curves and feeling the stare of his lustful desire. More than once she flushed with embarrassment when caught checking out him. She wondered what he did for a living that he was out and about during the day. She wondered if he was attached to anyone. She wondered if he was interested in her. She wondered what he looked like naked in her bed at night and the next morning. Three times every day, Katherine made sure that she hit the dog park around the same time hoping to serendipitously run into Freddie. She did not want to appear obvious in her intentions but she dressed the part making sure that her clothes, hair, and makeup made her look desirable and not desperate. Always, every day, even when she was a little late or a little early, there he was throwing a ball and playing with his dog by the babbling brook or sitting on the park bench enjoying the sunshine or the moonlight while watching people and their dogs enjoying the park. Just my luck, she laughed to herself, he is probably homeless and lives in the park. She was half right. She enjoyed and looked forward to his company immensely. He was like no one she had ever met. He was different. In an odd way, he reminded her of her father, even down to his clothes. He had poise, composure, manners, and an old fashioned charming style and genuine sensitivity about him that she liked and that the guys today lacked. He was a gentleman with a wicked good sense of humor that kept her not only laughing but also interested. He was mature and grounded and had the commonsense that she wished others had. She could tell from their conversations and by his lack of concern and/or knowledge of current events, reality TV, and celebrity gossip, that he did not watch television. She remembered he even told her on one occasion that he did not own a television and did not know what television was. She laughed, he was so funny. She did not see a ring on his finger. She wondered if he was gay. She figured he was in his early forties. He had sexy eyes that were grayish blue, and the hint of gray hair at his temples gave him a distinguished appearance that she found so terribly attractive in a man. He looked a bit like George Clooney, but with a softer jaw, only taller and thinner and better looking. Hands for some reason were a major attraction for her. He had nice hands. He had strong hands with manicured nails and muscular forearms that she got to see when he rolled up his sleeves one day to pull Polo out of the bramble where he had gotten himself entangled. She imagined his arms around her holding her tight and his hands feeling her and caressing her in all the places she longed to be touched. It did not immediately occur to her that he wore the same suit every day, as it did not immediately occur to her that she never saw him and his dog outside of the dog park. It did not immediately occur to her that they were ghosts. Before this was turned into a dog park, killed by a hit and run driver 70 years ago while crossing the street, this is where they died. She never noticed the small plaque that graced the entrance of the park until now. "We dedicate this dog park to Freddie and his dog, Polo. May you rest in peace, dear friends." Devastation hit her as if he had just died today. Sorrow replaced her desire with sadness. How perfect. No wonder she could not find her man. He was dead already. Waiting for him to discover her, she did not mind waiting a little longer until the time when she was ready to join him forever in eternal love. Eternal Love I just got home from the office and I set my things down: Heavy briefcase, umbrella, and a coffee mug that says, "Greatest Boss." I look around and realize that a two story house is too big for one person. There are so many places to be, but nowhere to escape. Everywhere is the same: Somber. He's gone. It's been two months since I received the letter. A car pulled up and a tall man in uniform walked up to my door. How dare he! How dare he hand me that. How dare he! I cry. I'm crying now. And always will I cry. Still, even as I stand here, I imagine he is with me. He never truly left me, right? But, all I can hear are the tears of the gray sky behind me. Are they his tears?! He misses me too. I know it. I finally shut the door. I slip off my shoes on to the rug and begin the climb up the stairs. The king sized bed is made perfectly on his side. Not another man shall ever share it with me. I promise this. I strip down to nothing but my bra and panties. I reach for the nightgown that he had bought me. I plan to make dinner. But all I can do is hold the gown against my barely beating heart. It should cease. I love him. I am nothing without him. Nothing. I stand here for a moment. I shall skip dinner. All I want is a drink: Something, anything to numb the pain. I walk down the stairs with a death grip on the gown and into the kitchen. Slowly, I open the refrigerator. The cool air feels so welcoming. I look around and fumble through the bottles: Whisky, Vodka, Bailey's Irish Cream, and Wine. I like the idea of a smooth milkshake topped with Bailey's. Yes. Perfect. I sip from the bottle and the liquid dances in my mouth filling me with insatiable desire. I pull out some French Vanilla ice cream, scoop it into the blender and pour the Bailey's on top; smooth, sensual and calming. I take a spoon and taste the mixture. It's so palatable, but it's too thick for my liking and it's not strong enough to make me sleep. I turn to the cabinet behind me, open it and fumble through more bottles. I pour a little more into the shake and taste the thinned mixture; perfect. I walk back up the stairs into my room and drink it quickly. I cannot wait. I sit on my bed looking into the full length mirror and wait a few minutes and feel the mixture take effect. Then, I cry. God I miss him; his touch, his voice. I need to be with him: Wherever he may be. I close my eyes and open them again. The vision is blurry, but through the mirror I swear I see his body; naked, hard, ready. He's ready for me. I lay down. And I hear him whisper, "Close your eyes." I do. I know he can't be here. I become dizzy, but I do not open my eyes. I feel too good. He feels too good. I rub my breasts and whisper his name. My hands are everywhere. His hands are everywhere. Still, I cry. I reach down to feel myself; wet. I cannot control it anymore. I need release. I play with myself and begin to moan. He speaks to me. "Slow down. Enjoy." "I need you. I-I need to be closer to you." I squeeze my nipples and let out a soft cry. It feels like he is here. He's not gone from me. He's touching me: Playing with me and kissing my neck, lips, and cheek. I rock up and down. I feel it coming. I cannot breathe and my eyes are heavy. I feel him inside of me now. I throw my hands above my head and he pushes and pulls in and out of me. I can't open my eyes. I can't see him. But I can hear him. Telling me he loves me. How much he needs me and that he's going to come inside of me. He wants me. He's calling me to him. I can feel it coming now...he calls me... "Come for me, my love." I am ready for the suffering to be over. "I want to be with you forever." I struggle to breathe. My eyes won't open. "Come to me," he whispers. "I'm coming! I'm coming! I-" By Dien Eternal Love The sun was setting. It glinted gold on the horizon, burning oranges and pinks into the sky. It scattered light across the sands, turning the dunes into an undulating sea of umber and black. The heat of the day faded with the sun, leaving a cool breeze over the desert, brushing gently against the sandy waves. Chephren watched from his balcony, reveling in the feel of the night's new cool. The sun temple littered the ground below his feet; worshipers still continued to kneel even as the sun waned. The Sun God, Amun, was said to watch over the skies at day and all of humanity. His eyes saw the people kneel before his altar, if even one single citizen forgot, it was said, He might conveniently forget to make the sun rise in the morning. Chephren prayed He would forget. The night leached the fire from the sky, spreading the violet-gray. A smattering of stars appeared, shimmering in their captive blanket. Chephren began to pace, the deep tan of his feet turning a cold blue in the coming darkness. He lit no candles, but continued to pace instead, impatient. Soon, when the sun had dipped below for its slumber, she would awaken, and she would come to him. She was everything to him, his Goddess of the Night. She made him desire to turn away from Amun, to turn from his whole life, to turn away from all of his people, to turn away from the suns light. As the last of the sunlight faded from the world, the worshipers turned from the temple, satisfied with their labors. They knew the sun would rise because of them, and they would be able to sleep soundly in the bowels of their homes, awaiting the sun's glimmer upon the land. Chephren both envied and despised them, hated that they could still love the daylight. A cool breeze filtered in; there were no walls in his third-floor bedroom; only giant, round pillars of stone, cutting him off from the world outside. The desert had turned a milky white in the rising moonlight, and the white night light slid into his bedroom, coating the tapestries and sheer curtains in an eerie blue. A noise; he knew without turning that she had come, and he hardened at the thought of her standing behind him. A milky white hand, blue in the moonlight, slid over his chest. It was dappled in rings of silver and the blackest onyx. The hand was delicate and smooth, cool in the darkness. Lips pressed into the naked skin between his shoulder blades; he could feel her breathing against him, her breath as cold as the darkest hours of the night. She held him there for a moment, loosely. Had she used all of her strength, she would have crushed his bones. She ran long, red-tipped nails over the tight muscles of his stomach, trailing them over the bits of hair that grew down near the top of his linen kilt. He shivered, whispering "Sekhmet." The name described all she was: his love, his goddess, his warrior woman. A tiny hiss purred from behind him as her fangs elongated and she pulled her face away from his back, just enough to sink her teeth into his shoulder. His knees almost buckled as she drank; a world of pleasure from just that tiny sip. Every drop of blood caressed his veins as it left, the poison on her teeth turning what should have been painful into indulgence. When he turned to her, she kept her lips pressed against his skin, dragging them across the length of his shoulders. He wrapped his arms desperately around her body, wanting to feel her in his arms. Every cell of his being cried out to be closer; the pull of her body was an irresistible gravity. The white of her skin glowed faintly in the moonlight; Sekhmet's skin was so pale, she looked as though she were made of carved limestone. Her eyes turned up to him were pools of ebony, a piece of the night's sky caught in her irises; they glittered with promise. Her lips pursed and dripping crimson with his blood. Tangling his hands deep in her ebon hair, Chephren bent to kiss her; she tasted of the salt of his blood, and of something sweet, like nectar or figs. The rush from her lips was a high. He couldn't get enough of her once he had tasted her. Pulling her closer, Chephren pulled one, lithe leg over his hip, feeling her skin like stone wrapped in soft, alabaster skin. He felt her body temperature warm with his blood, and he felt a rush of lightheadedness at the sticky, sweet smell of her skin so close to him. She backed up one step, sliding her leg from his hold, then another step, their lips still tangled together. Sekhmet fell away from him, tumbling them both onto the bed. Chephren lay over her, one hand pressed into the sheets on either side of her, as she smiled wickedly up at him, her lips swollen and soft. He looked down on her, memorizing every detail of her face, her body, wanting to remember her just like this when the sun rose and she would disappear into the shadows. "Chephren?" she asked, studying his face, her eyes liquid black and curious. He shivered as his name spilled from her lips, coloring the word with everything he was, wanted to be. He heard hints of every night he had spent tangled together with her in that simple word, a name that had meant nothing until she had spoken it. Falling into her again, he distracted her curiosity with his tongue, lapping gently at the inside of her neck. Her scent was too heavy here, at the nape of her neck; he nibbled, feeling her body arch underneath him, pressing her skin against his. Reverently, he began to untie her linen dress, finding new skin to worship under every fold of white cloth. She cried under his mouth, writhing in synch with the movement of his lips. When she lay naked before him, his whole body ached to merge with hers, shook with the need to be closer. Chephren pressed his lips to her nipple, running his tongue over the tiny peak. Her body shivered in delight underneath him as he suckled, his hands running over her body as though she were fragile, his touches light as a whisper. He breathed across her skin, reveling in every movement, every moan he enticed. He kissed his way down her body, lingering over her hips, his hands following. He heard her cry out as he bit down on the inside of her thigh, and the noise drove his lust. His erection swelled his need for her becoming more painful by the minute. He knew the only cure was to plunge inside of her over and over again until his passion was spent. But not yet. Her mound was covered in a carpet of lush black curls and he pressed his lips to it, inhaling the scent of her arousal. Sekhmet twisted below him, her panting deepening as he continued his slow journey. When he ran his tongue gently over the burning, wet skin of her womanhood, her whole body convulsed in pleasure. He made each nerve, every sinew in her body sing to the tune of his tongue, and she sang his name. His heart beat a rapid rhythm to the delicious song of their nightly dance. Running her hands through his long, black hair, she pulled him forward until he pressed against her. He could feel her, wet and waiting, through the linen of his kilt. He pulled away, tearing the belted skirt from his body in one, swift, practiced motion, tossing it to the floor with a careless flick of his wrist. Her eyes devoured him, running with a mixture of pride and anticipation over every inch of his sun-baked skin. Pressing his hands into the bedding, he moved forward, sliding inside of her. It felt like fate, slipping inside of that burning furnace between her legs. She spread open to him, her womanhood pulsing around him like a heartbeat. Reaching behind him, Sekhmet pressed her hands into his buttocks, pulling him deep inside of her. Tear pricked the corners of her shining onyx eyes, glittering wetly in the moonlight as she cried his name, "Chephren!" into the darkness. He paused, savoring the feel of her heat surrounding him, drumming around him like a heartbeat. He slid back, feeling her body grip him, and though trying to stop him from moving away. Harder he pressed, all the way to his hilt, feeling her writhe below him. She hitched her hips, lifting her body from the bedding to press against him, and they breathed in unison, exhaling, and their breath mingling as he bent to press his lips to hers. Setting a steady rhythm, Chephren moaned deep in his throat, adding his voice to the notes she cried at every movement. He could feel every thrust, every movement bringing him closer and closer to the edge. Something burned in the depths of her eyes as she swung around him, pushing off of one hand to topple him onto his back. Now atop him, Sekhmet rode him, desperately, her pleasure building with their rhythm as she slid her hips over him again and again. Dipping her head, she nibbled at his neck, stinging as she drew blood. Red rivulets dribbled down his chest and she lapped at them as she moved above him, drawing him deeper and deeper into her body as her voice grew more ragged. He pushed up against her, ever deeper, ever faster. He watched her move above him, her finger tangled in her wave of ebony hair, her perfect breasts bouncing in time with her perfect movements. She was everything to him, in this moment and every other, and the sight of his blood drove her passion. Her orgasm caught her mid-stride and she convulsed around him, shouting his name to the stars. The sight of her, sweat beading over her skin as she writhed, uncontrolled and shaking, brought him to a shuddering end, and he spilled his seed inside of her, relief spilling over every cell in his body. His soul wept at the beauty of it, and his hands touched her skin, zealous in his worship. It was to the night that he owed, not the daylight. He mourned the thought of another day light without her. Sighing contently, Sekhmet lay down over his chest, her hair spilling over and around him like a blanket of night's sky. He trailed a hand over her back, tracing invisible circles in her skin. She lay there for a long time, shivering in the aftermath of their lovemaking, and he knew that nothing else would ever feel like this again. There was nothing but her. "Sekhmet?" She sat up a little, her wicked grin back as she surveyed her territory. "Yes, my love?" Chephren hesitated, unwilling to break the moment, but equally unwilling to spend the daylight hours mourning her absence. "I have a favor I wish to ask of you." "Anything you want, my dear, is yours already. You've only to ask." Her voice was raspy and deep with aftermath, her eyes glittering like her silver jewelry, reflecting the moonlight. "I want you to make me a vampire." Sekhmet froze, her eyes flashing. The smirk faded from her lips as though it had never been. "You don't know what you ask for." Chephren sat up to press a hand to her face. She watched him, watched as the torrent of emotion tore through his face, tears blurring his eyes. "I do, I do know what I ask for," she winced, but his eyes held her there. "I prayed to Amun today that the sun would not rise, that I could be with you for the day. I prayed the sun would never come again, so I would never have to see you leave." Sekhmet's eyes widened. "Your God would not like to hear you ask for such things." She stood, using the linen cloth from her dress as a robe. She walked away from him, onto the silvered balcony. Uncaring of his nudity, Chephren followed, pressing his hands against her shoulders. She stood, watching over the sands that spread out from his home. "These people pray for sunlight everyday; it is their lifeblood, their God. You cannot take that away from them." He hung his head, ashamed. "Amun may be a God, but I do not worship him any longer." Sekhmet froze, her body turning to stone beneath his hands. "You cannot want to be like me. It is lonely, and the voices of my victims grow louder in me. I have killed more people than I can remember, Chephren. I would not wish this fate on you; I am not that cruel." "But I can no longer live without you by my side, Sekhmet!" They stood silently and watched over the temple, one's thinking caught in an inward storm cloud and the second stared out into the world, her thoughts skipping over the sand dunes, the very monotonous and uncaring desert. So many lives had she lived. So many, she had lost count of the years. She watched as humans scrambled for food, as they built Göbekli Tepe, carving and shaping stone over hundreds of years. Then she watched as they began to build towns, cities, and became civilized. She had watched as they tamed animals to their will. She watched as they raise great pyramids, temples and statues in the desert sands. There was no place in the quiet civilized nation for something like her. No room left in the society of men for monsters. She couldn't continue to live another thousands lives alone, but nor would she take away Chephren's humanity. If she did, he would drink the blood of his fellow man, drink and be haunted by them as she was. But there was another way out. Turning, Sekhmet looked deep into Chephren's eyes. Those deep, black eyes had held something she had never come across before in her lifetimes of roaming. It was something she didn't know her withered heart was capable of feeling. He watched, a maelstrom of pain swirling in his eyes. But she would change that. She could save them both. "My love, I cannot become human, but neither am I capable of handing you the life of suffering I have endured for too long." She pressed a long finger to his lips as he inhaled to speak, stopping his words before they could interrupt. "I think there is only one way we can survive together. We must venture to Duat." Gaping, Chephren stared down at her, this tiny woman who had consumed his every thought, every inch of his body since they had first touched. "You would meet the sun, for me?" Death by sunlight was the least painful way to die. It would burn, for a bit, but the demon inside, the one that made her what she was, the one she fed blood every night and hid from the sun every day, would shrivel and burn in the sunlight. "If we are close enough, my love, the sun will burn you as well. Then we can live together, in Duat, helping Amun in his chariot to chase the sun across the sky. We will help to raise the moon, help to scatter the stars across the night." Chephren's eyes glowed at the thought, his eyes distant and shimmering. "We would be together." "Always." Sekhmet took his hand in hers, squeezing it gently. Their eyes met and sparks flew, and she pressed her mouth to his, unable to stand another inch between them. He ran reverent hands under her linen wrap, touching her alabaster skin, pulling himself closer. He wrapped his whole body around hers, his lips sliding along her jaw to nestle against her neck. Her built-in instinct whispered that the sun would be rising soon, but for the first time in Sekhmet's hundred lives, she ignored it, hoping the sun would hurry. She prayed, for the first time, to Ra, to Amun, to race their chariots, push their beasts of burden ever faster, making the sun rise soon. As the first rays of sunlight spilled over the horizon, Sekhmet squinted into the light, blinded. When was the last time she had seen the sun? It was beautiful, even as it burned, searing her eyes and scorching her flesh. Sekhmet barely felt the pain, so enamored with the sun was she. With her last breath she turned; Chephren was still wrapped in her arms, his skin burning as surely as hers, but he didn't look pained. He looked resolved, strong, and full of love, as their bodies turned to slow ash. Duat awaited them; finally, together. Eternal love "Please, Thomas, don't let me do this! if this is the end, then let it be the end for both of us!" Lisa sobbed in her husband's arms with the warm shower water pouring over them. "My love, you cannot be talking like that," said Thomas, lovingly placed a hand on his wife's growing baby bump "you have our little angel to think about now, you have to live for her and you have to live for me baby." Thomas tried to hide the hurt from his voice but Lisa could always read him like a book and picked up on the emotion in his voice, through the bond they shared. Hot tears filled her eyes, tears that burnt with anger. "how can you say I should live for you when you have decided to sacrifice yourself and leave me all alone with this child!?" More tears ran down Lisa's cheeks as she cried in misery sinking to her knees wishing that she would wake up from this horrid nightmare. Thomas felt his heart break a million times but he had to get his mate out of here, they were coming and they were very close. He had to get his Lisa out of here. He picked her up into his arms as if she weighed nothing, walked out of the bathroom and dried her up. Thomas felt broken with seeing his beautiful lively wife look like this, like life was slowly being sucked out of her. "Dammit Lisa! please don't break my heart like this please baby" Thomas pleaded, while shaking her so she can come back to reality. She was so broken that she felt a piece of her die that night, she didn't even notice Thomas take her out of the shower and dry her up. Oh her Thomas, her handsome, funny and sexy Thomas. The love of her life, the father off her unborn baby and now she might never see him again oh of caurse she will never see him again! The thought brought up fresh tears to her eyes. Why does life have to be so cruel!? Lisa was braught back from her thoughts to cruel reality by her mate's sweet voice oh gosh how that melodic voice now sounds so distraught. "Lisa...Lisa honey listen to me: I've already packed a bag for u with a new passport and bank cards under your new name and some cash for you to start off with. You will have to use the cards when you've completely ran out of cash but try to use the card less frequently," said Thomas, hurriedly. It hit Lisa again what this terrible life has subjected her to and silent tears trickled down her cheeks. Thomas pulled his mate in a tight embrace that if it were happy times she would be teasing him how his trying to squeeze the life out of her. God he loved her. Thomas recited a silent prayer for that his wife and his unborn child to be kept safe. In his long life he had never felt so miserable. Lisa hugged him as tightly as she could, not wanting to let go. She took a last sniff of his spicy sweet scent and felt as much of him as if to create an everlasting image of Thomas imprinted in her head. Thomas smiled at this, feeling her love for him radiate from their bond and at that very moment he accepted their fate which broke his heart yet again. "don't you ever forget me baby and take care of our baby. I will love you forever and beyond death" said Thomas, looking deep into Lisa's welling eyes. Lisa let more tears flow down as she whimpered a tiny animalistic sound of agony that was muffled by Thomas's soft warm lips. They both re-lived all their memories in their last shared kiss and embraced the fact that it was their last moment of love. Lisa barely got out her love for Thomas over her sobs. A loud thud from downstairs startled her and Thomas knew it was time to part with his love, he quickly pushed the dressed away from the wall that hid a secret passage, opened the tiny door and tossed the sport bag that he packed for Lisa. "Come baby it's time" he told Lisa while urging her in the passage way. "I love you my beautiful Lisa always and forever" Thomas said, tears forming in his eyes. Lisa cried even harder and responded with a sad strained voice" I love you more Thomas" He gave her a sad smile remembering how they always had those cute arguments about who loved who more. "Go on now and don't look back" Thomas closed the door that separated him from his mate. He had to do this for her and their unborn child. Thomas pulled back the dresser in place hiding the tiny door yet again. He walked over to his desk, poured himself a glass of whiskey and sat down sipping it, when the door burst open. He put up his mental wall to keep out unwanted guests (not that they could get in even if they wanted to- with him being the oldest vampire in the vampire world added with the most poweful clan he was born into). Him and his brother Lucas being the last of that clan. 'Lucas bloody bastard,' Thomas thought to himself. Lucas was the very reason he was going through this and he will kill the greedy bastard if that's the last thing he did. In all his 3565 years of his life he had never hated anyone so much and the man he hated with a passion walked in with a smug smile that dripped with evil. "well, well, well. if it isn't the mighty Thomas. Hello dear brother!" Lucas flashed his brother one of his best smiles, which truly, looked like a genuine smile. "I see your're willing to let your greed to be the end you, Lucas" "oh no dear brother! It is you who has reached his end. now why don't you be a good sport and let me make this a short and quick kill for you?" he said with that evil grin still implanted on his handsome face. Thomas laughed at his younger brothers words "oh dear little brother! not only are you a greedy bastard but it so happens that your also a scared little wimp, a total disgrace to the Coles clan! Thomas laughed seeing the reaction from his brother saw. "You stupid little brat, you've braught an army of flimsy vampires to fight me 'cause you're scared of your dear brother. Pathetic!" Lucas was fuming, his inner beast on the surface, screaming for release as he lunged forward with his fangs bared and in attack mode. Thomas smiled. 'bingo!' he thought to himself as he got out of his chair at nonhuman speed, fangs bared. Lucas lunged at him and they both crashed on the floor making the floor shudder under them. Lucas felt victory as his hand was on his brother's neck ready to disconnect his neck from his head but was just not strong or fast enough than his older brother. Thomas turned the tables on him, had him pinned face-down on the floor with his right arm twisted behind his back. As the other vampires closed in on them Thomas closed his eyes and in mere seconds the other vampires dropped on the floor like sacks of potatoes paralysed with pain, blood oozing from their noses and ears. Lucas watched in horror as his men died in a matter of seconds without even being touched. ''FUCK FUCK FUCK ANTHONY GET YOUR ASS IN HERE' Lucas sent a telepathic message to his best vampire who he knew can withstand his brother's gift. SNAP! Lucas fell limp on the floor, broken into pieces. Filled with excrutiating pain, Lucas yelled, his scream piercing the room. Just as Thomas was about to rip off his brother's neck off he felt something rip open his chest- he closed his eyes and the last thing he saw before he dying was his beautiful Lisa. lucas felt his brother's dead body putting pressure on his broken arm sending more pain to him. "get him off of me dammit" he spat angrily. Anthony lifted Thomas's lifeless body off of Lucas and dumped it on the floor. "what the hell kept you downstairs?this bastard nearly ripped my arm and neck off! now give a bag of blood; I need to heal this damned arm" said Lucas, wincing at the shooting pain from his arm. Anthony handed Lucas a bag of blood which he grabbed greedily and pierced it with his fangs, sucking in every drop. "uhm, boss? we have a slight problem..." said Anthony, looking at his new replenished boss. "well talk!" Lucas growled, moving his arm to test it's integrity. "Thomas's mate got away and we don't know how." "well you idiot, did you send men to look for her!?" "uhh...not yet boss..." "you fuckin idiot! You better find that human bitch and bring her to me or I will have your head " Lucas shouted angrily. "y..yes boss, but the major problem is that w...we can't p...pick up her scent. Thomas m...must have help her extinguish it before he snuck her out," Anthony stammered in fear. "BASTARD!!! Fuck! find her NOW and burn this fuckin place." Lucas could feel his power growing due to the death of his brother, and considering that he was now the most powerful vampire on earth made him smile. But he knew that it will be shorrt lived until he finds that pregnant human bitch and killed her and her unborn child. ****** Lisa sobbed but crawled as fast as she could to get to the end of the passageway, which lead to the back of the house. When she got there, she peeked through a small hole and saw vampires all around. So she sat there thinking about her sweet Thomas while rubbing her baby bump . An agonized scream filled her ears and she suddenly felt a sense of panic thinking it was her Thomas that is in pain, but later realised that it was not him which comforted her for the time being. As soon as the vampires heard the scream they all disappeared to the front of the house, Lisa saw this as an opening to make her escape. She opened the tiny door leading to her escape and she ran as fast as she could, silent tears ran down her cheeks as she thundered into the forest as fast as she could. After what felt like an eternity of running Lisa was stopped by a feeling of dread and she dropped to her knees and started crying when she felt her heart grow cold and shatter to a million pieces. Feeling like a piece of her just died and she suddenly knew that a piece of her just died, her love, her sweet Thomas and her better half. She cried even harder feeling the bond that they both shared fade to nothingness. Lisa stayed there kneeling on the forest ground crying for what seemed like forever until she heard her husband's voice in her heard 'live my angel, live for our baby, live for me" she quickly got up as weak as she felt and kept running for dear life still trying to stay alive for her daughter, but the tears running down her cheeks symbolized her pain. Her Thomas, her love. Oh how cruel life was.