25 comments/ 71999 views/ 69 favorites A Darker Love By: AMY_Monaco The crashing of a dish to the floor set off a series of events throughout the universe that was preordained long before words were even recorded. *** "Damn it." Alaina swore softly. So lost in her thoughts while drying the dishes that she hadn't even felt the dish slip out of her hand. She tucked a lock of loose raven black hair behind her ear and knelt down on the linoleum floor. She bumped into a dining room chair as she did so. Her apartment was small to say the least. As a one bedroom, living room combined with dining room and kitchen and a tiny bathroom, it was barely comfortable for a single person to live in. On the bright side, it was in a good neighborhood and was walking distance to all the shops. The shards of porcelain were soon dumped into the trash, and after sweeping up she straightened herself and sighed. What a way to spend Friday evening, she thought. Friends were busy and she didn't even want to think about her current relationship status. It hadn't changed since she started college. She consoled herself with reasons why it was good she was single at the moment. During college she had been too focused on classes and grades to deal with the drama of dating. Then portfolio and graduation had gotten in the way. Finding a job took a lot of time...and now she was busy saving up, working all the hours she could grab just so she could eat and live in this tiny little hole in the wall. Alaina groaned to herself. She would soon run out of reasons to not date, she thought. She was twenty-three and a healthy, reasonably attractive young woman. Why should she be afraid to date? Was it because she feared rejection? Of putting herself out there to complete strangers? Of worrying whether the man would expect sex immediately after they were established as a couple? It was the latter reason. Alaina had an old soul. She'd always grown up thinking she'd save herself for someone she was in love with, or better yet for her husband. Such ideas didn't quite work for the modern world, and this only made Alaina ponder her current situation more. Should she modernize? Just live life and enjoy the sexual freedom as everyone else? Her cell phone rang and her friend Melissa was on the other line. "You called just in time, Melissa." Alaina said, leaning against the counter of her kitchen. "Then you're up to going out tonight? Turns out I won't have to work the night shift. We could just go to Sully's for a bit." "Sully's sounds great. How about nine?" "See you there." *** Alaina dressed stylishly. To compliment her rather petite, but slim stature, she wore a flowing skirt and fitted, crisp shirt that tied at the waist, emphasizing her small waist. With heels on and a clutch in her hand, she headed out. Sully's was their occasional haunt, a higher-classes bar that featured a dance floor where music people could slow dance to was played. She found herself sitting at a booth in the corner, the lights dimmed, Nat King Cole playing in the background. She liked this place. The tables weren't sticky and the atmosphere was intimate and classy. She glanced at her watch. Still no sign of Melissa. Cole changed to a soft jazzy number and she shifted her focus to the couples on the floor. Then a waiter cut her line of vision. "Compliments of the gentleman over there." The man said, setting down a colorful drink. Alaina's lips automatically curved into a smile. This had never happened to her before. She looked up. Across the floor at a table covered in the same white cloth as hers sat a man dressed in an immaculate suit. His hair was as dark as hers, brushed back yet a lock of hair strayed and fell over his wide forehead. He was very good looking; his angled featured made her think of Greek statues. His sensuous mouth was curved in acknowledgment. She lifted the glass to him in a silent toast and touched only the tip of her tongue to the drink. His intense gaze remained on hers a bit longer and she felt something stir inside her belly, recognized it as yearning. "Sorry I'm late." Melissa breathed, sitting down in the chair in front of her. Alaina turned to her friend. "That's okay. I like just sitting here watching everything." "Well, you started without me." Her friend said with a smile, indicating the drink. "I didn't order it." "Then you're really getting started without me." Melissa laughed. "Who sent it to you?" Alaina turned her attention to the dancers. "That man over there in the black suit and black hair." "Ooh!" Alaina laughed when Melissa turned to look non-too subtly. "He's a cute one. Go ask him to dance." Alaina shook her head. "I couldn't. Besides, he's probably the type who buys drinks for women all the time. It's just his thing." "I wouldn't mind if he buys me one." Then her friend's smile widened. "Look, he's coming this way. I'll go and get my drink. Maybe you'll get lucky tonight." "Melissa," Alaina shook her head, laughing. "I love you, but you're just a bit much sometimes." "Back at you." She gave Alaina the thumbs up expression before walking away. The man approached her, his movements fluid and confident. He took the seat Melissa abandoned. "You do not like the drink or do you just not approve of me?" She gave him a curious look. His accent was soft and none that she recognized. And on closer inspection, he was even more handsome. His dark eyes flecked with silver bore into her as he waited for her answer. "I don't know you to approve or disapprove." "We could correct that, of course." He stood up suddenly and held his hand out. "Would you care to dance?" This was something out of a movie, she thought. Right out of those old ones where she would be in Audrey Hepburn's position and he, in William Holden's. Ah, but there was the difference. The dark looks of this man contrasted greatly with the golden image of William Holden. She took his hand. The band struck up and singers were up doing a Sinatra number, which made Alaina smile. "I don't drink alcohol." She said, looking up at him. He was very tall, at least a foot taller than she and beneath her hands, she could feel the hard cords of muscle flex. "I have never met a woman who doesn't drink." He answered skeptically. "I was never able to tolerate alcohol. A few sips will make me turn so unattractively red. And I get very sick. But I sipped your drink because I didn't want to be rude." She added sheepishly. His soft chuckle was deep and rich, his breath brushing against her temple. He held her very close for someone she didn't know. This was so strange, meeting like this. She had to admit she wanted to fall for his charm, even if it was just for tonight. "What's your name, by the way?" He looked at her. "Cosimo de D'Alessandro." The way his name rolled off his accented tongue made her shiver and he felt it. She saw the flecks of silver flash in his eyes. "Alaina Witticker." "Alaina." His sensual lips curved into a slow smile. The white of his teeth stood out against his tanned skin. He was probably here on business. He looked like a businessman, a very prosperous one by the looks of his suit and the manner he carried himself. He moved like a man who owned the world and everything in it, like a man who'd had nothing denied to him, a man who's passion was only just contained. His hand slid down to the small of her back, keeping her close as the song ended, another began. "I should go back to my friend." She said, after the third song was over. She enjoyed the rush he brought her and even now, her heart raced just for being in his arms. There was something about being near him that made every nerve in her body come alive. She was aware of his every movement, his every breath as if they were both connected somehow. Alaina pushed these thoughts aside. These things -- meeting these types of people -- always came to an end. "I want you to come home with me." His dark promise was a whisper in her ear. She felt his warm lips brush against her and she sucked in a breath. "I just met you." Her voice didn't come out as strongly as she wished it to, but rather it was breathless and soft. "Look, it was really nice dancing with you, but I have to go." If it was possible, his eyes darkened. "Alaina, do not do this." He held her firmly, keeping her on the dance floor. She didn't want to cause a scene and slowly pulled her arm from his grasp. "It was nice meeting you, Cosimo. Thanks for the drink." With that, she turned her back to him. When she couldn't find Melissa, she dug her cell out from her clutch as she left Sully's. Her heels clicked in time to her racing heart as she hurried down the street. Melissa wasn't picking up. Something about that man made her bolt. For a minute she regretted having done so. There it was again, that fear of being intimate with a man who might not have serious intentions. And there was his intensity, it simply radiated from him as strongly as his body heat. It was intimidating. Suddenly someone yanked her by the waist into a dark alleyway. The scream was ready at her throat, but a solid hand clamped over her mouth. She felt the man's chest press tightly to her. Oh god, she was going to die. "I would never hurt you, Alaina." The deep voice said into her ear. It was Cosimo. "I admire your spirit, my love." He continued. "But tonight, you cannot fight me. You are meant to come home with me." His words sent fear coursing through her. She struggled, but to no avail. He was too big, too strong. She whimpered, trying to speak, but his hand muffled her words. She was going to die, she kept thinking. This crazed man was going to kill her in an alleyway. No one was going to find her until it was too late. A tear slide down her cheek, landing on his fingers. The feel of it caused his hand to gentle. "Deep breath, Alaina." His words confused her. Suddenly his arms tightened around her and the alleyway fell away, melding into colors and then, nothing. What remained of their existence in that alleyway was a puff of liquid smoke that floated densely in the air before disappearing. *** He had known the world before civilization began. He'd seen wars ravage the lands, storms wipe out cities and death, so much death. He'd been witness to unspeakable things. The room he occupied was the master bedchamber, a large expanse of columns and well-crafted furniture. The floors were of rich black marble veined with white and like the rest of the floors in his home, were heated from below. The ceilings were covered in frescoes of gods and allegories of war and love. Ormolu chests and wardrobes contained items he'd collected over the millennia, clothes for every occasion. Oil paintings hung on damask covered walls and oil lamps burned softly. He lived in decadence. Cosimo watched Alaina sleep peacefully in his large bed, a structure wide enough to sleep eight. The headboard was carved of marble, the same black as the floor. He moved to the edge where she lay, touched her cheek softly. The shift of realms to bring her here had made her faint and she'd yet to come out of it. There would be a lot of explanations to be voiced when she woke, he knew. He no longer wore the suit, having discarded it long ago. He went bare-chested, with only a cloth wrapped around his waist to cover himself. These robes were the traditional attire he wore at home. Alaina stirred, coming awake slowly. She knew even before her mind was clear that her sleep must have been fitful, for her body felt heavy. Her thoughts were slightly clouded and she blinked several times, trying to adjust to the images before her. The colors of the room did not match her bedroom. She sat up quickly, gasping when she saw Cosimo sitting on the edge of the bed. She felt the sheets caress her skin and realized she was naked. She clutched the sheets to her chest, pushing herself up against the headboard. "Where am I?" She demanded. "Where have you taken me?" It was impossible that he took her to another country, yet the architecture of this place suggested just that. The style was too old, the things that filled it too ornate and beautiful even for a modern day home. "This is my home, Alaina. Your new home." He answered. He lifted her chin, forcing her mouth to his. She clenched her teeth together, trying to push away. But he held her, coaxing her lips apart. He pushed her back onto the bed until he lay on top of her. "It is no use fighting. There is no where you can go." "Why did you bring me here?" She shouted. "If you're going to kill me, why didn't you do it in the alley? Why bring me here?" "I'm not going to kill you, my love." He said harshly. He stilled her hands at her sides and frowned at her. "I wouldn't harm you. Ever." "You're insane." She announced. "Is this what you do with your money? Kidnap women and pay others to look the other way while you rape them?" "It will not be rape with you," he murmured, lowering his head once again to kiss her. His lower body pressed to the junction at her parted legs. She could feel his arousal and gasped. The only barrier between them was the robe around his waist. "I have waited an eternity to feel you beneath me." His words only made her heart beat faster. Men didn't really say these things to women. Coming from Cosimo, it sounded so natural, so genuine. He brought his hips forward, pressing himself closer and Alaina arched to him. Her body betrayed her mind without a second's delay. His fingers twined with hers as he moved with her, showing her exactly how his touches wouldn't lead to rape. The things he made her feel were too strong to fight, and some part of her wanted to feel it -- to feel him. She'd never slept with a man before and just once, she wanted to experience it. "What are you doing to me?" She whispered, desperate to break from this spell he had over her. His eyes flashed, as they never left her face. He let one of her hands go and trailed it over her body, exploring every inch of her. "All will be explained to you once I have you." His other hand came to join the other, leaving a trail of heat with each inch of flesh he touched. Her full breasts were soon cupped in his calloused hands. She couldn't tell when her hands started to wind around his neck or run through his thick, black hair. "Cosimo," she whispered. The need within her burned like fire, leaving her mindless and alert. He was her only succor. His robe was discarded and she felt the heaviness of his cock rest between her thighs. His hand moved over the smooth plane of her stomach, down to her waiting sex. She whispered his name again when he touched her there, separating the slick folds with his skilled fingers. The sensations he brought her were so intense, so new. He traced the folds gently before plunging a finger inside her. Something more blunt replaced the finger. Alain opened her eyes to see him loom over her as he pushed in. She moaned when he thrust into her deeply. The pain cut her moan off and she dug her nails into his back. With each thrust, she was aware of his slick flesh sliding against hers. He filled her so deeply, stretching her until she thought she could be stretched no more. Something wound tightly within her as he moved. It was hot, unbearably wonderful. She wrapped her legs around him, wanting to bring him in deeper still. They kissed, their moans fusing as their bodies did. She breathed him in, his musk, that erotic scent of the unknown. He started moving faster, each thrust burying him as deeply as he could within her. Her wet muscles clamped around him and soon, she was falling off the edge of pleasure and crying out his name. A second later, he followed, filling her womb with his seed. He remained inside of her. "Now take me home." She demanded. Anger flashed in his eyes as he rolled them to their sides so they faced each other. "You would dismiss what we just shared?" "It was practically rape! We shared nothing!" She tried to push at him, but he grabbed her wrists. "I was saving myself, too." Tears welled up in her eyes. "You were saving yourself for me, Alaina." He said in a hard voice. "You are mine, you were always mine." "Why do you keep repeating that? I'm not your possession." "I own you body and soul, Alaina. As you own mine. It was meant to be, preordained by the stars, by the Fates or whatever you like to call it. But it remains true. Your place is beside me." "I want to leave this place. Take me home, please." She pleaded, feeling a tear slide down her cheek. She had always thought when such words were spoken to her, she'd melt and confess her own love to that man. Yet these very words only scared her. Cosimo de D'Alessandro was a stranger. "You cannot leave this place because it's a different realm." This made her stop. "A different realm." "It has no name or direction. One only senses where it is in this universe." She stared at him. "You're insane." His handsome jaw tightened. "I am sound of mind, I give you my word, Alaina. Just listen to me if you want answers." When she gave no indication of fighting him again, he let go of her hands and propped himself on one elbow. "Are you immortal?" She couldn't quite believe she'd just voiced such a question. "I'm a demon." Upon hearing those words, she started to bolt, but he held her down, calming her fears with a loving hand. "I told you I wouldn't ever harm you." He murmured. "Not all demons look like monsters or kill mercilessly or possess such evilness that everything around it dies. That is stereotyped by your Hollywood." She swallowed. "Then what sort of demon are you?" "It is complicated to explain...you could say I rule over the chaos of the world -- several worlds. In life there are paths and with each decision one person makes, there is a counter-decision. My powers preside over both paths -- both decisions -- so whichever an individual makes, their fate is controlled by me." "But doesn't that make you god?" He laughed. "No, I am no god. I control the fate of chaos and bad things. All the good is controlled by beings of a pure-soul." "Then you...kill?" He shook his head. "I control only the decision to kill or be killed. These things coordinate with the intentions of the pure-souls." "So you work together then?" He thought for a moment. "It is more of instinct than of actually working together." "Why am I here? What does any of this have to do with me?" "Because you were meant to be mine." His words were too tempting, yet it was all too surreal. She pushed at him and this time, he let her go. She grabbed the sheet and pulled it around her. "I can't do this. Just take me back, please. I've done nothing to you, Cosimo. Just let me go back home." He stood up, naked and stalked toward her. "This is your home, Alaina. You must remember this. Your place is beside me now." "Am I to kill others, too?" She asked, the very thought completely ludicrous. He was a demon, she a human. Demons were evil and grotesque, yet Cosimo stood before her as the perfect example of a male beauty. She moved from him, her feet padding along the heated marble floor as she pushed through the double doors of the bedroom into a wide hall, as richly decorated as the bedroom. Busts sat on consoles along the hall, more paintings hung on the walls. It was so strange that there were no windows, yet light seemed to illuminate the rooms, light that was more powerful and natural than from the oil lamps and candles. The halls were empty, but her eyes searched for someone -- anyone -- to help her. Still naked, Cosimo followed her, jerking her around to look at her. Temper flaring in his eyes, he held her. A Darker Love Ch. 02 Amy relaxed her body in the sunken black marble bath, but her mind was on other matters. With her head resting on the edge of the marble, her eyes took in her surroundings. The bathing chamber was all black marble swirled with white; it made the chamber look immaculate with its gilded accents and strange illuminated light. The splashes of water from her bath echoed, but not in a cavernous, cold way, which made it all the more surreal for her. Two female servants worked close by, setting out what was to be her new gown. Dressed in gowns that were more like bolts of cloth draped over the body, they moved busily with their eyes down. "Where's the exit to this place?" Amy asked. The two women ignored her, again. For the past twenty minutes they worked in silence, only heeding Amy's words if it concerned her bath. She breathed in deeply, trying hard to suppress her irritation with the women. "Does anyone else live here? It's so empty." Nothing. "Where's Cosimo?" "Attending to business." One answered. "Killing someone." Amy muttered to herself. She sunk deeper until she was chin up in the warm steamy water. It all seemed like a bad dream, yet the feel of the water and the marble seat she sat on were tangible enough to remind her it wasn't. The night had started out so well, being able to hang out with her best friend at one of their favorite places, then meeting a charming foreigner... She had no idea then exactly how foreign he was. What made things worse was that her first taste of sex with Cosimo left her longing for him. Her body seemed to sing in his presence, and she knew this deep down in her heart, even if they are complete strangers to each other. "Enjoying your bath, my love?" Cosimo strode into the chamber without sparing a glance at the servants. "Get out of here!" Under the water, Amy covered herself, pushing against the side of the pool to put distance between them. Cosimo grinned, crossing his arms over his wide chest and leaning a shoulder on the column, one of four that surrounded the sunken bath. "I have already seen you naked, Amy. There is no need to be shy." "What are you doing here? They said you were attending business." "I can walk in on my own wife any time I want." "I am not your wife. I exchanged no vows." He shrugged. "Demons need no vows." She nearly threw her hands up in the air, but that would leave her exposed. "Will you stop saying that word?" She asked curtly. His eyes narrowed slightly. "I cannot help what I am. What do you have against me anyway? I already promised not to hurt you." She looked away. He was delivering the right lines, yet she couldn't just fall into his arms so trustingly. "Please, can you leave? I want to get dressed." "I will help you." "No!" She shook her head. "No, you will not. I'll do it myself, and without their help." Cosimo turned and gestured for the two women to leave. They bowed low, leaving without a sound. "They're terribly rude, you know. They won't answer me." He chuckled. "They speak only when necessary. Don't expect them to offer gossip or tell you how to escape. Their souls are bound to my palace, therefore they cannot leave." "How convenient for you." She replied. She watched him lift up a towel and hold it out. "Are you done bathing?" "Will you look away?" Cosimo sighed. "Fine, I will look away." Hurriedly, she stood up from the water and felt the warm, thick towel wrap around her, along with his arms. She groaned inwardly. She should have known he would do that. He nuzzled her neck, inhaling her clean fragrance. "Next time, I will join you in the bath." "No, thanks. I like to bathe alone." He turned her around slowly. "That wasn't a question." He stood so close to her, his bare chest brushing her shoulder. She could feel the hard muscle of his body, the strength to be found there in his arms. "You're so beautiful." His voice was soft. He lowered his head until their lips met. Once again, it was hard to break away. His arousal was magnetic and it entered into her body like bolts of lightening. The heat from the bath that clung to her skin didn't seep away, but ignited into a fire that burned so brilliantly, all thoughts began to meld into nothingness. His arms tightened around her, pressing her closer to his thickening sex. His hands ran over her smooth shoulders, down to pull her towel off so she was naked. Then he swept her into his arms and carried her to the bed. Shedding his robe, he came over her. His lips coaxed hers apart again. "Don't deny me, Amy," came his tortured whisper. The pain in his voice made her pause. When she opened her eyes, she saw an intensity there that she'd never seen before. Emotions played in his eyes, many she couldn't recognize. Cosimo entered her swiftly, eliciting a low moan from her. His eyes never left hers as he moved over her, in her. With his hands spread on either side of her neck, he pushed into her again and again, each thrust harder than the next. Amy gasped as she clung to him, her body beginning to tremble, until everything went tense and still. Then she was floating over the heat and ecstasy. Cosimo's release was powerful. His entire body tightened with each rope of seed that shot into her and he finally fell to her side, bringing her close to him. As his body reveled in this completely sated state, his heart filled with incredible sadness and longing. He felt Amy bury herself closer to him, release allowing her vulnerability and acceptance of him to show – even if it was just for a few moments. He could have shouted his triumph. But the thought quickly died away. Under heavy lidded eyes, he looked down at her cloud of dark hair, her face still hinting at the passion she experienced. Amy. She was his mate, his other half, his love. If only he had more time with her. *** Melissa checked her phone. Odd. Amy called twice, but left no message. It was unlike her to do so. Maybe she went home with that man after all. Melissa was just leaving Sully's when she left a message on her friend's phone. A definite metallic click made her jump. "Okay, lady. Hand over the phone. And your purse." She froze. "What?" Deep in the shadows of the alley, she could see the outline of a rather tall, lanky man, but the gleam of the steel in his hand was detailed enough under the lamplight. "The purse, lady. And no screaming or I'll pull the trigger." Her back went up. Her mind registered the dire situation she was in. But something in her made her rebel. No way was someone taking her purse. She worked hard to afford this designer label. "I'm not giving you anything." "Eh?" The thief hesitated a moment. He'd never had a victim resist at gunpoint before. "I'm not kidding, lady. I'll shoot ya." "Then someone's bound to hear. I'm less than a block away from Sully's and three other restaurants. You'll be thrown in jail for murder." "Like hell I will. You'll be dead and I'll be long gone." She held her hand up. "How about letting me go and I won't turn you in?" The guy tilted his head, getting a better grip on his gun. "How about you hand over your purse, bitch and I won't blow your fucking brains out?" "How dare you –?" A shot rang out and Melissa was thrown aside. She expected the bullet to hit her, but instead, she felt the impact of the brick wall. Through strands of hair that fell over her face, she saw another figure lunge toward the thief. It happened so fast. One moment the thief was protesting, the next he was lying on the ground, limp and silent. Melissa gasped. "Oh, my god. You killed him." It was a statement made in horror rather than gratitude. The stranger caught that in her voice and narrowed his piercing gray eyes. "Better him than you." He yanked her up, urging her out onto the street. "What! You can't just leave him there – we need to call someone." She struggled out of his firm grip and then felt something warm and wet on her arm. She gasped again. "You're bleeding." His white shirt was soaking in that awful dark color. What made her panic was that he took the bullet in his chest. "We need to get you to the hospital. We need an ambulance." He pulled her forward again. "No time." "No time?" Was he kidding? "You're going to bleed to death! You could be internally wounded." "I'll be fine." He winced when she bumped into him as she still resisted. "You aren't fine at all. Listen, I know this is a shock to your system – " "Where do you live?" "What? No – you can't go there. You need a doctor." He shook his head. "Trust me, all I need is a place to...recuperate." He stopped to look at her. The strange lightness of his gray eyes was unraveling. "Fine," she answered cautiously. "Okay. But I only know so much about first aid." Despite the pain, his mouth curved. "I'll consider that fair warning." She didn't live far, but she felt bad that they had to walk up five floors to get to her apartment, due to no elevator. With the lights quickly switched on, she pushed him down on the couch and hurried to get the first aid kit. Benedict glanced around the small, but neatly put together apartment. He could hear her nervously move around in the next room. He assessed the room, seeing photographs framed and sitting on a mantle, a vase of daisies at the windowsill and that the furniture was mismatched, but as a whole, it worked. Wincing, he felt the bullet lodged close to his heart. His chest burned and his stomach churned from the pain. But he focused his energy on the location of the bullet. Slowly, his flesh began to push it out. In seconds, he caught the bullet in his hand, looked at it with amusement. What was left now of the otherwise fatal injury was a dull ache in his chest. Hearing her footsteps, he stuck the bullet into his jeans pocket. "I'm no good at sewing, but I passed Home Ec well enough...in middle school." She said, trying at some humor to lighten the mood. He could see she was too pale and her hands shook as she set everything down, before taking a seat on the coffee table. "Hey," he said gently. She looked up. "I'll be fine. Don't worry." After hesitating, she nodded. "You'll need to take your shirt off." He felt sort of guilty playing along to this victim routine, but he obliged her, tossing it on the table. Melissa held her breath as he did this, watching his muscles ripple and flex. Now that she had time to take it all in, she realized that her savior was built like a god. His dirty blond hair was streaked with darker brown, even the slash of his eyebrows were brown. Stubble covered his Adonis-like face and those gray eyes were watching her carefully. She already knew that his body was deliciously toned like an Olympic athlete, but soon, her admiration turned to confusion when she saw his wound. It wasn't as bad as she thought. The bleeding had stopped and what was supposed to be an open gap where the bullet entered was now puckered up skin and starting to scab. She looked up. "I told you." He grinned. "I'm fine. I'm a fast healer." She used some cotton to clean off the blood, gingerly feeling the skin but finding no bullet lodged underneath his skin. Her mind grappled for an explanation. "The bullet must have grazed your skin." She mumbled, finding this as the only explanation. He made a noncommittal noise. "Must have." She tossed the bloodied cotton and disinfected the area. "I'm Benedict, by the way." "Melissa." She tried to concentrate on her task, but she was slightly distracted by the rise and fall of his chest. She could also feel his gaze upon her and she couldn't help but notice he smelled of exotic spices. "That was a fool thing you did, Melissa." He reproved in a low, husky voice. "He could have killed you." She began to bandage him. "But he didn't. Besides, do you know how hard I worked to get that purse?" Ben swore softly, staring at her incredulously. "You would trade your life for an inanimate object?" One of her eyebrows went up. "I could have handled him." "He was going to shoot you." He said loudly. He grabbed her wrists, trying to make her understand the severity of her situation. "If it weren't for me, you would be dead." "Do you want my gratitude? Is that it? Well, thank you for saving my life, Benedict. I really am grateful that you did. But I'm safe now." She finished and stood up. "I'll get you a couple Advil to help with the pain." "There's no need." He said, rising to his feet gracefully. "Then I'll get you a shirt or something. You can't go out half-naked." It was the wrong thing to say because suddenly her mind filled with images of him being completely naked in her bed. Her heart thumped faster as she searched one of the closets. Ben was in her tiny kitchen by the time she came back. "I don't know if it will fit. It's my brother's, he left it here some time ago..." She was starting to babble and bit down on her bottom lip to stop. He was making her nervous now or perhaps it was the shock of the evening finally hitting her. He tugged on the simple gray t-shirt. It was a little tight on him, but truthfully, she didn't mind and the color only enhanced his eyes. "Thanks for nursing me." A smile teased at his mouth. She crossed her arms over her chest. "No problem, Ben." "You shouldn't have stood up to him like that." He said softly. "Better to lose your purse than your life." The way he said it, as if he truly cared for her made her smile. "Hopefully, there won't be a next time. Are...are you going to be okay?" He nodded. "Don't worry about me. I'll see you later, Melissa." She knew he didn't really mean to see her later. It was another way to say good-bye and she repeated the line as he left. Later that night in bed, she replayed the alley scene in her head over and over again. It didn't add up, she kept thinking. The way he was bleeding indicated the bullet had hit him full on the chest, instead of grazing his flesh. His wound didn't look like it had been grazed... And Ben didn't even seem to be that affected by the pain. "It doesn't make sense." She mumbled to herself. His words had been so ominous. No time, he said when he was urging her down the street. What did that mean? *** Melissa tied on her black apron and headed out to the tables. She worked at Archer Café, a sit down eatery that attracted the artsy and intellectual types. The décor was modern, following a mod theme of white, black and turquoise. A cool mix of jazz and underground alternative played softly with the pressured sounds of espresso and cappuccino machines. The smell of coffee beans wafted in the air along with the sweetness of freshly baked pastries. With her pad and pen ready, she went to the first table and took down their order. She was scribbling down the last of it as she approached the next table. "What will it be?" She asked, looking up. Then stopped as recognition kicked in. "Ben?" His smile was disarming. He looked relaxed in dark jeans and a button down white shirt. Sunglasses were pushed up into his dark blond hair and his face was clean-shaven. "Melissa." "What are you doing here?" "Having coffee." He said simply. Yes, what a stupid question to ask on her part. It wasn't as if he was making an effort to see her. "Ready to order then?" "Double espresso and a biscotti, please." She mumbled something in return. She made the order herself, using the time to calm her racing heart. "When are you done for the day?" He asked, when she set his order down. She looked up in surprise. "Not until two." "Have lunch with me." Before she could protest, he added, "It's the least I can do to repay your kindness last night." Her eyes filled with guilt. She'd forgotten for a moment that he had been injured. "Are you okay now? No pain?" He smiled. "None. I told you I was a fast healer. Lunch then?" She nodded. "I'll meet you here later." Her mind was only half focused on her job for the rest of the afternoon. Just as her shift ended, she decided to give Amy a call. But after five rings, there was no answer. She left a message to call back as soon as possible when it occurred to her to try Amy's office. "Sorry, but she didn't come into work today." Melissa went still. "Did she say why or leave a message?" "No message or reason. I figured it was an emergency and she didn't have time to call in." She let out a slow breath. "Okay, well, if she does show up or call in, can you tell her to call Melissa? It's really urgent that she does." "Will do." Panic rose quickly and she rushed out from the back of the café. Then she saw Ben. She'd forgotten about their lunch. "What's wrong?" He came up to her, flipping his sunglasses up into his hair. "My friend, Amy. She's – she's not at home. She hasn't shown up to work and she's not answering her phone." "When was the last time you two spoke?" "Last night. She met a guy and I assumed she went home with him...oh god, I shouldn't have let this happen. She usually picks up when I call." Ben wrapped an arm around her. "Do you mind if we go check on her apartment?" "Let's go." Ben said very little. And as he predicted, Amy's apartment was empty and undisturbed. Melissa shook her head worriedly. "I'm calling the police." She announced. She was digging into her purse when she felt his hand close over hers. "You won't get any help from the police, Melissa." "What do you mean?" She frowned. "Of course, I can. They can help track her down." Her heart started to beat faster, but she willed herself to stay calm. Ben was looking at her strangely, but she chose to ignore it. "Not where your friend is, they can't." Her hand loosened on her phone and purse and in turn, his hand loosened over hers. An innate alarm went off inside her and she put her things down. "What do you mean where she is the police can't find her?" She asked. "Do you know where Amy is?" She started into the kitchen, trying her hardest not to shake in fear. Then she heard him say, "Melissa, I'm not going to hurt you." "All right." She answered cautiously. "Then you better explain yourself." She walked over to the knife drawer and turned to face Ben. This way she could keep an eye on him. She leaned against the counter, resting her hands on either side of herself. The drawer was only a reach away. Ben was standing casually a few feet away, hands at his side. His sunglasses were discarded. He too seemed to sense that she'd put her guard up. "I know where she is, but no, I didn't have anything to do with her going missing, if that's what you are thinking." Her hand shifted. "Are...are you a cop or detective?" "No." Where could he begin? He took a step toward her. "Melissa," "Stay where you are!" She thrust open the drawer and randomly grabbed for a knife. In doing so, she cut herself, the sting of it causing her to falter for a second. Finally, she gained a hold on one and held it out. "Stay where you are or I'll cut you." "Put the knife down." He said calmly, taking another step closer. "Do you think I'm stupid? I'm not putting it down until you get out of my apartment. Come any closer and I'll scream my head off." "Listen to me, Melissa. Put the knife down and I'll explain everything. I give you my word that I won't hurt you." Her hands were shaking and her finger was bleeding more than she thought, making her grip on the knife slippery. "Don't come any closer!" She screeched. He was walking toward her like a panther to his prey, his gray eyes sparking with intent. He was unbuttoning his shirt as he did so, shedding it easily and letting it drop to the floor. This only confused her more. She stared at him. "I'll stab you. I swear I will, Ben." A Darker Love Ch. 02 She suddenly felt his hand close over extended one, and instead of turning it away from his chest, he brought it toward him. The sharp tip pressed into his smooth skin. Melissa thought he might be crazy. His grip over her hand urged the tip into his chest. Realizing his intent, she resisted with all her might. "Ben, no!" Her gaze fell to his chest. The bullet scar was all but gone, but it was seeing the tip cut into his skin that made her gasp and resist even more. She watched in horror as blood started to trickle down his chest. She looked up, her eyes wet with tears. He was watching her attentively, his jaw tense from pain. "Stop, please!" She pleaded. It came out in a harsh whisper, for her throat was clogged with emotion and her stomach churned wildly. This wasn't happening, she kept telling herself. This couldn't be happening. The blade slid further into his flesh still. "Ben, I don't want to hurt you!" He stopped and pulled the knife out. He tossed it into the sink and her free hands now gripped his arms. He was bleeding so much. She wildly searched for something to staunch the blood, but he held her still. "Watch." He said, his voice gruff. Tears slid down her cheeks when she followed his gaze to his chest. She was shaking her head as more blood spilled, then she blinked, unsure of what she was seeing. Her breath caught in her throat when she saw his skin starting to close over itself, healing right before her eyes. No more blood escaped. It was as if he'd never been wounded. She blinked again. This explained the bullet wound, yet in so many other ways everything made no sense. She stared up at Ben. His forehead was covered in a thin sheen of sweat and his breathing came out a little fast. She was struggling with her own breathing. Her eyes kept returning to the knife wound. Did she just imagine it? "Ben?" Her breathing became labored. Faster and faster she was sinking and darkness closed around her, until there was nothing. A Darker Love Ch. 03 Melissa shot up from the bed and searched the room. Then she winced when the sunlight that poured in through the sheer drapes burned her eyes. Blinking rapidly to adjust her eyesight, memories started to flood her mind. Her friend was missing. Ben was bleeding and there was a knife... She was relieved when she looked down and saw that she was still in her own clothes. But everything else was unfamiliar. Glancing around, she saw a very modern, clean-lined bedroom. No frills, no hints of mess or antique. But the colors were warm and brightened by what looked to be the afternoon sun. "Good, you're awake." Melissa's attention darted to the figure at the door. Ben stood with a tray in his hand, which he set down on the bed. She could smell the freshly brewed tea. "I wasn't sure if you were hungry." He said, indicating the plate of biscuits. She arched an eyebrow. "I don't want your tea. I want to know where I am." Ben was looking incredibly handsome in khakis and a polo shirt. He sat down on the edge of the bed. "You're in Tuscany, Melissa." "Tuscany?" She stared at him, dumbfounded. "As in Italy?" The corner of his mouth lifted slightly. "Is there any other?" "How did you get me here? You should be arrested -- this is kidnapping, Ben. If that's even your real name." "It is my name. And I brought you here because it would be easier to...explain things." She went pale, remembering in detail the knife in the kitchen, how she'd used it in defense. He had encouraged her, driving the blade into his own chest, only to pull it out and have her witness something she couldn't even fathom. "The knife." She whispered, her eyes going to his chest. She started moving to the opposite side of the bed. "What are you?" "I already told you I wouldn't hurt you." He said calmly. "Will you believe me, at least enough to let me explain?" She slowly nodded. "A man named Cosimo has your friend." "You mean he kidnapped her." Ben stood up, taking a step toward her. "No. Not when they are destined to be together." "That's crap." "I trust you have heard of things happening for a reason. Well, long before Alaina was born, she was destined to be with Cosimo." What was this nonsense? Melissa was really beginning to think Ben to be mentally unstable. "Is he your friend?" Ben seemed to hesitate. "Why am I here?" He thought for a moment. "Every person's life is woven into the thread of everyone else's. Your being friends with Alaina naturally makes you involved in this." "This doesn't answer my question. What am I involved in?" "Listen to me, Melissa. You are no longer living in a world of humans, where you are as safe as anyone can be. You asked me what I am? I am a pure-soul." "A pure-soul." She repeated dully, staring at him. "Like an angel? But...But I saw you kill someone." Benedict chuckled. "Angels are only versions of pure-souls and guardians put together. They do not really exist, but you humans often insist they do. Pure-souls control much of life and the living, we have powers over the good that exists in these worlds." She let out a nervous laugh. "You expect me to really believe all this? Pure-souls. Worlds -- plural? How many are there?" "There are dozens of realms you are unaware of." He said quietly. "The man who has your friend is a demon." He held his hand out. "No, there's no need to worry. Cosimo is not known to harm those he loves." Melissa's eyes glanced down at the tea. "I'll need something stronger than tea, if you're going to go on about demons and realms." The corner of his lips only lifted. "We can go have some local wine in a little while, if you like. I expect that you would like to experience something of Tuscany. Much of my explanation can be done as we make our way into town." He stood up. "I took the liberty of gathering some of your things before we came here. Bathroom is through there." "How exactly did we get here?" She asked suspiciously. A wicked gleam shone in his eyes, mingling with a dark humor. "You don't want to know just yet." He started for the door, but turned suddenly with a serious expression on his face. "You are one of the few humans to mingle with our kind, Melissa. Because of that, it makes you vulnerable. Trust no one." She arched an eyebrow. "Not even you?" "I want you to trust me." He said simply and left the room. *** In a white convertible, they zipped through the countryside roads at an alarming speed. Melissa chose the blue halter dress from the selection he'd brought. When she'd seen her limited wardrobe, she could only arch her eyebrows in suspicion. Benedict had only chosen the fancier pieces from her closet, dresses and outfits that would reveal a bit of cleavage and leg. Very soon, they entered Florence, a mass of old buildings and uneven roads. People lined the streets, sat at small tables in café fronts and pigeons pecked at crumbs on open pavements where tourists were seen taking pictures. It was something out of postcards, all the architecture that had survived decades of wars and weather. "I thought you were going to explain things." Melissa said as he parked the car. She deliberately slammed the door after she got out of the car, but Benedict didn't seem to care. He pocketed the keys in his khaki pants and held his hand out for hers. When she refused to take it, he let his hand rest on the small of her back as they crossed the street. "I want to show you something." They entered a large building of stone and columns. It was the Galleria degli Uffizi. It housed some of the most famous paintings in the world, like Titian's Venus of Orbino and Botticelli's Birth of Venus. With two tickets in hand, they walked through the galleries, with him in the lead. Having never been out of the country, much less surrounded by such exquisite art, Melissa's eyes darted around, taking in the shapes of marble sculptures and busts, following the contours and brush strokes of oil and acrylic paintings. Suddenly, Benedict stopped in front of a painting so large, it took up nearly one wall. Several people were standing back from it, some discussing it to great length, some analyzing the scientific and artistic composition, the rest merely enjoying it for what it was. She and Benedict stood back from it. To her, it looked like an allegory. An epic scene of royalty and excess luxury. It was remarkably well preserved, the colors still very robust and the entire painting framed in gold. Staring at it, Benedict spoke. "Look at the figures. All paintings tell a story." She glanced at him, but only briefly. "Are you going to launch into an art history lecture?" But she took in the subject, nonetheless. Men, half naked and built of athletic and muscular bodies stood in what seemed to be battle-ready stances, while others dressed in pomp and costume of the time period stood in the background, though their figures were still painted rather largely. Fabric seemed to flow in a nonexistent breeze, echoing the moodiness of the clouded sky and overcast lighting that lay shadows over the arches that were depicted. The women, dressed in equal splendor held secret smiles and pretty blushes, as they conversed with each other and eyed the men. There were no angels or cherubs. No heavenly actions or beams of light. Yet it was the couple just off the center of the painting that really caught her eye. A man with an intensely dark gaze was watching a woman just a few feet away. The woman seemed not to notice her admirer, having dropped her handkerchief and bending to pick it up. Her handmaiden stood behind her, adjusting the train of her mistress's dress. "Those in the background, wearing the fur-lined robes and dresses. They are the Medicis." Her interest immediately perked up. Her eyes flew to those figures on the canvas. The Medicis were famed in Florence during the Renaissance for their wealth and patronage of the arts. "In the front, there is Isabella, her two sisters Caryn and Valeria. There, her uncles and cousins. And the figure who stands there brooding while he watches the maiden, that is her brother Cosimo." She almost smirked, but her eyes focused on him and strangely, it matched the very face of the man she'd seen at Sully's. No, it couldn't be... "That maiden bending down, if observe closely, will resemble your friend Alaina, and her handmaiden, you." "What?" She took a step closer and true enough the resemblance was there. "You've lost me again." "Oil on canvas, 1465. Artist is unknown." He recited, as if from the plaque hanging next to the painting. "At least to the general public. When the Medicis were alive and at the height of their power over Florence, Cosimo and his family had formed a friendship with them. This was to commemorate the meeting of his sister Isabella to a lesser-known member of the Medicis family, whom she later married. Sketches were taken from everyone for the piece and they were told how to pose. Yet the artist, for reasons unknown decided to add this little scene to it." Benedict pointed to Cosimo and the two women. "At the time, Cosimo was guiding Lorenzo the Magnificent through his rule over the city and had no time to pose for the painting. Many thought the artist wanted to add a little humor by putting in the two women. When Cosimo saw the finished product, he could not stop staring at the women, who was bending over to pick her handkerchief up, just like his counter-part in the painting. When asked where he'd found his muse for the woman, the artist just shook his head and said there'd been no muse. It just came to him. So for centuries, Cosimo searched for her." "And now he's found her. What does all this have to do with anything?" "See that man, half hidden behind the stone arch there? His shoulders are tense and there is malice in his eyes. You can see a hint of the dagger he holds in his hand." "He's a cousin of Cosimo's?" Benedict nodded. "Orfeo was also away when this was being painted, so the artist had foreseen many things." "I'm still very lost." "You've heard of the Greek Gods, the Hindu and so on. You've learned about their strong family bonds, their jealousy, their revenge and eternal love, I'm sure. They still teach it to children." He turned to look at her. "D'Alesandros are to this day, the most powerful ruling family in all the realms." "How come we've never heard or learnt about them?" Benedict shrugged. "They prefer to spend more of their time in other realms. They often find Earth sort of boring...I agree with them." Melissa crossed her arms over her chest. "Well, thanks." She said sarcastically. "Listen, if my company is boring you, I would really appreciate it if you'd take me home and bring back my friend, so we can return to our normal lives. You can go back to wherever you came from." He suddenly smiled and wrapped an arm around her waist, bringing her closer to him. "You are most attractive when you're angry." She was flustered by his touch and angry at herself for being so. She shrugged him off. "Could you -- could you not do that?" He merely chuckled. "I just wanted to prove to you that this is real. The...people, for lack of a better word, that we are dealing with hold a lot of power. You don't want to cross them." "It's like you're talking in circles. If Alaina is with Cosimo now, then fine. But why am I in Tuscany?" "That is the reason why I am here. I need to know where you fit into all this. Like the maiden there, there was no muse for your look-alike. And somehow, both you and Alaina were born in the same generation and met to become friends. You will play a major part in this." *** While Alaina slept, Cosimo made his way down the hall in his robe. With the wave of his hand, the double doors swung open and later closed behind him to offer privacy. The illuminating light that Alaina found so strange brightened the room, though the walls here were of cavernous ragged rock and the ground was uneven. The sound of water could be heard distantly. He made his way to a reflecting pool of water that was at ground level. With another wave of his hand, the light lifted off from the water and slowly started to form. Mist that hovered over the floor began to mix with it and faint color started to show. Soon that light and mist started to form a shape of a woman, life-sized and beautiful. She wore a flowing gown, her long hair bound up by an exquisitely crafted comb. She was young and curvy -- the very image of what many would call a goddess. "Has anything changed, Calla?" Cosimo asked. "No, I am sorry." She answered in a husky voice. Cosimo began to pace in front of the diaphanous figure. "Tell me once again what you know." "I see war. Your cousin Orfeo is determined to take your place. He's caused riots within his people, and the Ottavians now want to go to war with yours." "Even as we speak, the Carthanians are preparing for the Ottavian's attack." "Damn it." Cosimo slammed in fist into a bed of rock nearby. "The war will be a long one." She said in a strange voice, as if she was overcome with a sudden vision. "Already the Ottavian's are raiding your people in small groups." Then, as quick as it came, it faded. Her voice became normal again. "Prisoners of five and twenty will be taken." Cosimo said nothing. Twenty-five people were nothing compared to the larger numbers he would lose when his people went through with the predicted war. "If you choose to save her, then you will die." He looked up, having heard these words several times already. "Not if." He said gruffly. "I just need to know if Alaina will live." "That is something I cannot yet see." He sighed wearily. "Thank you." He said and with the motion of his hand, Calla dissipated into thin air. So many centuries and to finally have found her, he was only to lose her. His thoughts were filled of her as he returned to their room. She was still sleeping peacefully, her legs tangled in the sheets, her beautiful chest exposed to his eyes. He grew hard just remembering what he done to her hours ago. Her sighs and the sweet warmth of her surrounding him. When she rolled onto her stomach, he couldn't wait any longer. He pulled the robe off and climbed onto the bed, balancing his weight on one elbow as he came over her. The swell of his cock rubbed against her buttocks and gently, he moved against her. In her sleep, Alaina made a sound akin to a soft moan. Experimentally, he slipped a finger down between her legs and found her ready. Playfully, he teased her opening with the head of his cock, wanting to wake her slowly. At the blunt entering of his member, Alaina woke from her slumber. "Cosimo?" Came her questioning voice, husky from sleep. He pushed into her and with a gasp, she realized what was happening. He buried himself in her, brushing aside her hair as he kissed her neck. Their lovemaking was slow and she let him control the pace. His breath was hot against her ear as he whispered to her what if felt like to be buried inside her. Her hands formed fists in the sheets as she became lost. The strength of his lovemaking was climbing, as he quickened the pace. Then his hand came around and touched the very center of her desire and she cried out her climax. *** The twenty-five prisoners were taken from Cartha directly to Ottavia. Twenty-three of them were men of all ages. The Ottavian soldiers thought, that in view of the coming war, a sacrifice to their ruler, Orfeo, Lord of the Underworld would ensure their victory. The men were chained to the large blocks of stone, their bodies bruised from a beating because of their resistance. The women were stripped of their clothing and lain down on the sacrificial block, where the open courtyard let the moonlight shine over their shapely bodies. To the humiliation of the women, one of the soldiers stuck their fingers into their private parts. The two that were married hissed and fought their confining chains as they were violated. Altair, the youngest of them was too scared to protest. But as she felt the soldiers hand lay against her naked thigh, she jumped, her chains jerking against her wrists. Her breathing became rapid and her eyes shot up to the soldier. His face was weathered, but he didn't look old. In fact, even in her fear she noted that he was handsome, his golden colored hair hanging over his shoulders. "Don't, please." She whispered, but his hand slid down and she felt his finger enter her swiftly. His finger went still inside her. "She's a virgin." Announced the soldier, with a note of surprise in his voice. The other men grunted, one smirked. "Virgin sacrifice to Lord Orfeo." At this, a few of them laughed. One of them came forward and started to unchain one of the women. "I'm taking her. Orfeo can choose from the others." The woman started to fight and curse; her screams only frightened Altair even more. What was worse, the soldier still had his finger inside her and started to thrust it in and out of her. She wondered if he would decide to take her and prayed he wouldn't. It would mean selling her body to these men for the rest of her life, as it was surely the future of the woman being dragged away. But the soldier surprised her by pulling his hand away and bending down to kiss her on her abdomen, then murmuring, "Bring us victory." And he and the rest of the soldiers left the temple. The hours passed. Vaguely, she heard the men speak of escaping. How they would free themselves from their chains, she didn't know. What was going to happen to them tomorrow? Exhausted, Altair finally succumbed to sleep. And in those hours while she slept, silent as ever, a liquid smoke appeared in the air, hovering over her naked figure. It took shape of a man lying next to her with his hand over her stomach. As soon as his skin made contact with hers, he was the form of smoke again. Instantly, their bodies disappeared. The chains that once bound her to the stone block clinked gently on the stone block. *** Orfeo was considered the black sheep of the family, as the saying went. Then again, weren't all members of the family who dealt with death considered as such? Hades wasn't very well liked in his family circle. His palace was decadent, built into the rock of a mountain no one would ever discover. And deep into the grounds of that enormous mountain lay the collection of souls to be weighed and decided. It was not a job he liked, but it was what he was born to do, so he did it, and with much aplomb. In the wide expanse of the greeting hall, sounds of water echoed within the obsidian walls. It was not an incessant dripping or the sound of waves crashing, instead, it was an eerie whisper. It couldn't be heard when the hall was filled with people, but when one was alone, one had the feeling that they were deep under water. For hours he watched the activity of his people, the Ottavians. He'd been curious as to how they were handling news of the impending war with the Cartanians. Orfeo had wanted his cousin's position for himself for as long as he could remember. It only made sense that he, Lord of the Underworld be in control of the chaos of the worlds. But one could only inherit a power by killing the one who held it. He was fond of Cosimo in his own distant way, but he desired his cousin's powers more. But now, he tired of watching over his people and soon abandoned the task to return to his room. Then he remembered the girl. He'd left her in one of the grandest bedchambers he'd ever had designed, one he'd never let anyone use because it'd been too special to him, until now. She was resting in a daybed draped abundantly in silks and sheer materials all in the shades of water. The palette suited her coloring. Her chestnut colored hair matched his own. Hers flowed around her head in a soft, touchable length. A Darker Love Ch. 03 One look at her and he instantly knew things about her. Her name was Altair, her mother had suffered three miscarriages before giving birth to her. Another pregnancy following had led to Altair's mother's death. Altair's father, a simple farmer had been killed by a drunkard accidentally. Orfeo could easily read people's suffering and pain as one would a good book. But such tragedy in her life had yet to show. Altair had a heart-shaped face, an upper lip that was a bit fuller than her bottom one and a tiny mole just below her right earlobe. She was quite pretty, he thought. In all his life -- and it was a long one -- he'd seen many beautiful women. But this one was neither a seductive beauty nor one that would make men duel at dawn. Hers was a quiet beauty, something he found quite intriguing. He was pacing the room when she stirred. Upon wakening, Altair realized she was no longer bound in chains and sat up, eyes darting around. Fear shone in her face when she locked eyes with him. "Who...who are you?" She asked. His face was slightly familiar, but she couldn't place him. He bowed his head ever so slightly. "I am Orfeo, at your service." She gasped. "It cannot be..." The man who stood before her looked incredibly handsome. Built of strong muscle and height, he bore some resemblance to the many statues built in his honor in Ottavia, yet they did not do him justice. His chestnut colored hair was worn fairly short, then ends teasing his forehead, ears and the back of his neck. His eyes, such an odd shade of blue-gray that made him look cold and distant. The upper half of his body was exposed; the rest covered in the robes Ottavians wore, though his were lined with gold embroidery in symbols that made no sense to her. "You took my life, did you not?" She asked. "No, I didn't." Visible relief flashed in her eyes and she looked away. "I was not ready to die." Then she looked up again. "Why did you take me from the temple?" As soon as her question was voiced, she knew he wouldn't answer it. Those cold eyes regarded her silently. "You must be hungry. Someone will arrive with food soon." He said. Not a minute later, a servant woman appeared out of a mist with a tray of food. She set it down on a table and disappeared in the same manner she appeared. Suspiciously, Altair glanced at the food. "I don't use poison, Altair." He said. He didn't bother to expand on it, which got her wondering what methods he would use to kill. Did his mere touch take the life of someone? Or perhaps he sucked out the soul somehow. "Did you take the others, as well?" She meant the other supposed sacrifices. "I don't take sacrifices given to me by Ottavians. I have no use for useless souls around here." "Then why am I here?" She dared ask. Her heart was racing from anticipation of his answer. She had a feeling he did want to kill her. The way he looked at her with such icy intensity. Perhaps he wanted to play with her, as a hunter would his prey before taking her life. "You are my prisoner here, Altair. Until I decide what to do with you." He said harshly, his voice turning so suddenly that she jumped by the change in volume. He turned to leave the room and slammed the chamber door. Orfeo was angry. At himself, mostly. It was not fair to her to keep her here. But he could not bring himself to return her to Ottavia. He'd already decided he'd do everything to make her comfortable, so that she'd never want for anything. Perhaps, she would decide she liked living here with him. If he returned her to Ottavia, there would be nothing there for her. Better a prisoner here than a Carthanian captive in Ottavia. *** She was offered a luxurious bath, something she rarely got to experience. After, she got to choose from a collection of pretty gowns made of the best material to wear. Someone appeared to dress her hair, to refill the teapot when it was empty and when she returned to the main part of the bedchamber, the bed was made. Altair kept her guard up the entire time, eyes searching for anything that may pop up, spirits haunting the grounds or worse, demons of grotesque form. She'd heard many things about Ottavians and their worship of Orfeo -- many things that provoke fear. She soon discovered that when the servants weren't needed, they disappeared. So after, her bath, Altair sat on her bed in the incredibly large and lonely bedchamber. There were no pets like a kitten or loyal dog around, no animals in sight. She heard no voices of any kind indicating that others resided here. Everyone knew that Orfeo had no wife or children, so she did not expect to hear any voices to indicate such, but she had thought him to be surrounded by evil. After another hour of silence, she laid down on the bed, feeling so very lonely. This place surely was a prison. Meanwhile, Orfeo was with his younger sister, an ethereal creature of wispy blond hair and a pixie face. She held powers over nature, the growth of all plants. They were sitting down to dinner, at one end of a very long and beautifully set table. Just a moment ago, he had sent someone to fetch Altair to join them. "This girl, is she very pretty?" His sister, Cora asked. "But, of course she is. You would never pick an ugly one. But is she a Beauty or just pretty?" "Why does it matter?" He asked absently. He lifted a goblet of wine to his lips. But so like his sister, she was changing the subject already. "And what has convinced you to bring her here? Are you in love with her?" "If I say yes, will you stop asking questions?" Her entire face lit up and she reached over to touch his arm. "Oh, are you really in love, Orfeo?" He flashed her a wicked smile. "No." "Oh!" She swatted at his arm and sat back in her chair. "You mustn't joke about something like that. What if Marie decided to really make it true?" "Then it is Marie's prerogative. But I sincerely hope she doesn't play such a joke on me." "It would be nice if you found a wife." "I'm Lord of the Underworld. No one would ever want to marry death." Cora frowned. "You're very much alive, Orfeo. I hate it when you refer to yourself as being dead." Orfeo merely shrugged and drank more of his wine. Just then, Altair arrived, following behind the servant he had sent. As soon as she was seated, another servant came forward to serve their dinner. "I'm Cora, by the way." There'd been no need to explain her relation to Orfeo, since all who knew him knew his family tree. Altair tried for a small smile, but then her eyes shifted to her plate. Cora sent her brother a look, one silently questioning just how exactly Altair came to be here. Barely touching her meal, Altair soon retreated to her room. Both Orfeo and Cora watched as she left the dining hall. He ignored his sister's inquiring look, finishing his wine with great ease. But like him, she was stubborn and after ten minutes of her staring at him, he finally looked at her. "I suggest you bring in some musicians or some sort of entertainment. She'll be bored to death if you let her alone like this." "That was a terrible pun on your part, sister." Her smile was brilliant and she leaned back in her chair. "This place is so empty, Orfeo. Really, your job is death, but this place doesn't have to be. Why is she here anyway?" He didn't answer right away. "The Ottavians had captured her from Cartha. She was a sacrifice to me." "I'm surprised they let you have her. They are so blood-thirsty sometimes." "They want a victory. I expect many beautiful sacrifices to me in the next few weeks." He said without arrogance, as he stood up from his chair. "You're not going to follow Rinaldo's example and practically keep a harem of women, are you?" "A harem..." he let the sentence trail off. "Now there's a thought." His comment earned him another swat on his arm and he chuckled. "You know I have no interest in a harem." He didn't care to elaborate and his sister sensed this. She soon left him to his solitude. Ah, but that was the new beauty of it. He was no longer really alone in his dark palace. In a room beyond the one he stood in, was a young woman who truly intrigued him. Her fear of him was only natural, yet it irritated him deep down. He didn't want Altair to fear him. He started up a wide staircase, wondering where Altair was, what she was doing. Even as these thoughts filled him mind, he had decided that he wanted to keep her. A Darker Love "You have no where to go. The rooms in my palace are endless, each leading back into the other." "Why me? I didn't ask for this. I didn't ask for you." She yanked her hand away and stared up at him. His dark eyes lit with suppressed passion. He held himself stiffly, his jaw clenched tightly. He was angry that she still rejected him. "The pure-souls said you were to be mine."