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Damien

By: sweet_slit



Lita arrived at her babysitting job on her usual Friday night. She never had a normal date, of course nothing in her life was ever very normal. She was being raised by her grandparent's, after her parent's were killed in an auto wreck when she was just three. Her grandparent's were strict, and because she was only 18, her dates had been a limited occasion, and usually only with someone they knew. 

The three little boys she babysat were already put to bed and her job was to stay at the house, watch TV and just be there in case they should wake up. Mr. Smythe came in to give her telephone numbers of where they would be. He was so handsome with a perfect body. Un-known to anyone except he and herself, he'd been her first lover. It had happened once when he had taken her home, his wife drunk and passed out at home. He had offered her a lift and she'd accepted. He had been stone sober, and on the way, there was a detour because of an accident, and they'd gone the back way thru the country. He'd called Lita's grandparent's to let them know that Lita would be late coming home. 

Lita had been slightly confused about why he had made the call, but said nothing. He had pulled over into a parking lot that looked out over the mountains and desert. 

He commented how beautiful it was in this spot, and he rarely had the time to enjoy the beauty. 

He and she sat quietly overlooking the desert. She felt his hand cup the back of her head and pull her gently towards him. She didn't resist, and he kissed her fully on her lips. It took Lita's breath away for a moment. He smiled wide when he saw what an effect his kiss had on her. Then he lowered his head once more and kissed her again, his tongue touching hers. It was her first French kiss ever and she was excited. She'd never imagined anything like this before in her life. 

Then he slowly touched her belly under her t-shirt and continued up to reach her breasts. He found her nipples pretty hard already. He started massaging them gently, then a bit more urgently. He quickly took off her t-shirt, so he could see the soft big tits now. He lowered his mouth to them and licked them, circling with his tongue around her nipples. He gently bit her right nipple and used his right hand to explore her pussy. She'd never been so wet before in her life and when he slid his fingers into her pussy, she thought she'd die with pleasure. He slowly unzipped her jeans and took them off quickly. Her panties were soon following them. He quickly pulled down his pants as well and first time in her life she touched a penis. He was perfect. Big, smooth and so hard already. He gently spread her legs and put two fingers into her wet vagina. She was gasping for air. When he circled around her clit, she thought she would die with the delight she felt. She also felt a very pleasant warmth in her belly. It was like a dream. Then he licked her clit and put his long tongue into her pussy, circling all over the place. It was incredible. He moved over to her seat and lowered the back so he was lying directly on her. 

He whispered, "is this your first time?"

Lita nodded and he pulled on a condom and he carefully positioned himself against her opening and then thrust forward, breaking her hymen. It all ended too quickly, and he finished and pulled his pants back up and settled back in his seat. 

Smiling, he watched her get dressed, started the car and drove her to her house. Since then Lita dreamed of once again being with him, but as of yet, it hadn't happened. She was hoping to alert him to the fact that her grandparent's would be out of town this weekend and perhaps he could come by and visit, but as she got ready to say something, another man came in the room.

"Lita", Mr. Smythe said, "this is my friend Damien."

Damien reached forward with his hand and shook hers and then Mrs. Smythe came into the room, announced she was ready and they all left together. 

Hours later they returned and Mr. Smythe said to her, "Damien will drive you home Lita, whenever you are ready." 

Lita turned to Damien and said she was ready, and they walked out to his SUV and got in. As Damien started out, he spoke to her, telling her about that he was from Europe, and had known Stephen Schmidt for most of his life. He said Stephen had told him about she and he and what had happened between them. Damien said that he was quite intrigued and was curious about the fact that Lita being so, so pretty wasn't dating someone. 

Lita told him that her grandparent's were very strict, and it was so nice that they had taken the weekend to travel somewhere, giving her a much needed break! When they arrived at her home, Lita invited Damien in for coffee, and he had accepted. She made the coffee and brought it into the living room where he was examining the photos on the walls. He sat on the sofa and pulled her to him when she was aiming to sit in a chair nearby. He kissed her in an urgent manner, apologizing as they came up for air, that she was so pretty and charming and he couldn't resist. 

More petting and kissing followed, and he urged her to tell him where her bedroom was, and he picked her up and carried her there. Stripping off her clothes and then his, he lay her on the bed and lay next to her. Her hand went to his cock, which was already erect. It was enormous! At least 9" long and about 2" thick! He forced her head down to take it within her mouth. His breathing ragged and his hand forceful on her head. He made her suck him for what seemed like a very long time, and then pulled her off and laid her on her back, with her hands captured above her head with his hands. She looked into his face and she felt his cock against her entrance. His whole face seemed odd. His eyes seemed to be changing, from the once deep blue to a brownish-black color. His mouth, lips looked full and more savage than she thought to begin with. His chest seemed to enlarge or throb with an almost alien appearance. 

"What? What is happening to you?", Lita asked.

Damien looked down at her and also positioned his cock head within her. She could feel an odd sort of vibration or power emancipating from it. Suddenly afraid, she struggled, only to have him jerk forward, thrusting his cock within her, impaling her. His cock was huge before, but now with it inside her, she felt as though she were splitting in two! She opened her mouth to scream, only to have his hand clamp over her mouth. 

He said, "Enjoy this Lita, because this will be the most unusual experience you have! And you are right, I am not the same man as you first met. In fact, I am not of this world originally, and soon you will see exactly what I mean!"

His body twitched and shook as he thrust up inside her with a sense of urgency unknown to most. Her body screamed with the pain of the intrusion, having only taken one man before. Suddenly, though nothing had changed, his hands still held her mouth and hands, she felt a movement against her. It was between her pussy opening and her ass and it felt as though it were slithering. Looking into his face, which continually changed with time, his face looked almost leathery, but his eyes had a wild look to them. She again felt something slithering, and then felt something touch her pucker and then start to worm it's way into her pucker.

She struggled and tried to pull away, but his body clamped down and her struggles ceased even though she was still struggling. The thing began to invade her ass, and it felt as though it were sucking as it went. It grew larger and she felt as though it were within her bowels when it finally stopped pushing into her. Her pussy ached with his cock and his thrusts into her, and now whatever was in her ass too! He lowered his head and drew her nipples into his mouth, and began to suck them. And then the movements seemed to be a orchestrated movement, and her body at last began to relax and pleasure was slowly replacing the pain. The foreign object in her ass continually sucked her ass as it moved up and down. The feelings were intense and so, so unusual. Damien's body began to move faster and faster and his cock and the object began to swell and thrust faster and faster, until all at once he came within her, a hot, & gooey cream, even from the object in her ass seemed to spew cum from each of the orifices that had just once been sucking. His body shuddered and quivered and he collapsed on top of her as his mouth whispered of more to cum..............

The End 

Damien



I take off from work a little early today, bundling up in my pea coat and wool mittens in my cubicle before my boss can see me. We've been working on the commissioner's email problems, and as a group the IT team is pretty busy. No one notices me as I sneak down the aisle and out the back door. I'm only leaving twenty minutes early, but I have a rendezvous with Damien planned that I have to prep for.

As I hurry to my snow covered car in the violent Boston winds, I wonder if Damien has any clue as to what I've got planned. I scrape the car windows while the heater defrosts from the inside and I let my thoughts wander to his red black curls and mischievous smile. I grin to myself as I shiver, not sure if I'm remembering his touch or being subtly assaulted by the New England chill. 

When I get to my apartment his car is already in the drive way and I curse myself under my breath for not leaving work earlier. I had wanted to light some candles to set the scene; I had hoped to have a few minutes to shower and find all my toys for my naughty Cherokee man.

I get the key into the lock, my fingers numb from the cold and I struggle to turn it. I think about fishing through my oversized purse to find my cell phone to call him and let me in, but before I can do so, the heavy door swings open and I stumble into the warmth of my apartment and straight into the strong arms of my lover.

He catches me effortlessly, his tan skin almost hot on my bare hands. I catch my breath as I notice he is shirtless, his jeans hanging loose on his shapely hips. I breathe in his spicy, almost cinnamon scent and let myself warm up in his grasp for a moment.

He looks down at me. "Kelly, you're an icicle. Is the heater working in the car?" He starts to unbutton my coat, his fingers moving quickly.

"Yes, Damien," I say with a smile. I watch his lips as he continues to remove my outerwear. His mouth is chiseled; the pink lips I know are smooth and soft. There is a fullness to his lips that always makes me think of oral sex. I can't not think about his sweet kisses on my most sensitive parts. I blush slightly and he glances up to my face, a knowing look playing on those lips.

"You didn't call today; I missed you." He whispers it and something low in my body clenches. 

"Yeah, there was a system crash this morning; things were pretty crazy," I swallow, my breath starting to get shallower as he peels away my black cardigan while keeping me close to his body. I can feel the heat radiating off of him and I want to press my tongue to his flat stomach and lap at lower things like a mad woman.

"You're going to have to make it up to me, right?" He meets my eyes then and I know that what I've been planning is exactly what he needs. There is something needy in his look; something that I haven't seen there in months. He is hungry for me to take control and make him into my plaything. Luckily I am a very good slave master. 

"Come with me, Damien," I say, stepping back from him and walking down the hallway to the bedroom. I sway my hips just a little more than is necessary to give him a view to appreciate.

When we get to the bedroom I see that he has already lit the candles for me. His skin looked even more exotic in the flickering orange of the firelight and I kiss him softly before we began. The bedroom is small, but the bed is huge. Its king sized frame takes up almost the entire room. The bedspread is a bright, white fluff of a down comforter that makes snuggling feel something akin to sleeping in heavenly clouds. I bend over the bed and yank the comforter off in a quick motion. Underneath are the blood red silk sheets that make Damien's tan skin shiver in pleasure. I push him down roughly with a grin and he smiles broadly back at me as he falls back unabashedly onto the bed with a sigh, the candle light dancing over his tan skin. 

He sprawls out in his whitewashed jeans and it takes every ounce of control I can muster to not just slide out of my pinstripes and fuck him silly right there. I take a deep breath and let myself take him in. His hair is messy, curling around his ears; he needs a haircut if he's going to keep working in software. His golden brown eyes are beginning to burn with a fire that feels like home and I go to him, pulling off my top and revealing my large breasts, bound only by an especially lacy bra.

His eyes light up as I straddle him and his hands instantly slide up my stomach and slip under the lace to cup both of my breasts. I shudder and feel myself get instantly wet. I grind my hips suggestively against his lap and what I feel there makes my pulse race. I stifle a moan and pull his hands away gently. He looks confused for a moment, but then I tell him to lay back and spread his legs.

I see a flash of delight at my words and he drops his hands to his the side and lays flat on the bed. He starts to open his legs, but I stop him.

"Wait." I slide off of his body and unbutton his jeans. He never wears underwear—not boxers or briefs, so I am not surprised when he is completely naked as I pull the pants down his legs. 

I strip quickly in the low light and sit on the bed between his thighs. I caress my fingertips lightly over his skin, lowering my mouth to kiss and lick up his flat stomach to his broad chest. I trace his tattoo there above his left nipple with my finger and then I do the same with my tongue. He sighs softly, but lets me play however I want because I am in charge. I make the rules tonight.

Soon Damien is tied down to the bedpost, his hands cuffed above his head and his legs restrained and spread wide apart just the way I like. I think about blindfolding him, but decide that I want him to see what I am going to do next. I go to my dresser and find the candle that I have picked out for this. Damien has lit it and the wax has already begun to spill down the sides. 

Slowly, I drip the warm, liquid wax onto his body and watch him squirm as I make zig zag swirls over his chest and stomach. He watches my face as I am captivated by his body. I drip the wax around his hardened nipples and he moans softly, shutting his eyes tight as I work my way down his abs and to the sensitive skin of his inner thighs. He groans when the wax trickles down between his legs and coats the thin skin close to his asshole. When the wax hardens, I lick around the wax drips, my tongue soft and wet soothing his hot skin, making him writhe underneath me. 

He loves it. His dick is fully erect as I lap at his skin getting lower and lower, teasing the skin around his balls with my wet tongue, his hips trembling as his breath gets more and more shallow. I want to suck him deep into my mouth, to pull the cum from him until he is completely drained, but I have bigger plans. I start to sit up, to get the harness from my bottom drawer, but Damien moans softly and thrusts his hips upward. He isn't ready for me to stop yet. He tries to spread his legs further apart, but they are as wide as they can go. I know what that means. He wants me to lick his asshole. 

"Say it, Damien," I insist. I want to hear him ask for it; hearing him say it turns me on even more than just doing it. I can feel myself getting wetter and I know I can't wait much longer.

He closes his eyes and makes a small noise. "Tell me what you want or I won't do it," I say, trailing my hand over the hardened wax drips between his thighs.

"Please, Kelly," He whispers, pushing himself into my hand, "Put your wet tongue in my ass."

I do what he asks. I lean down and lick the hardened skin under his balls, lapping down so that the flat of my tongue presses up against his puckered ass. He groans and I know he is wishing he had a hand free to jack his cock hard while my tongue works his ass. I like rewarding him when he's been good. His balls tighten up and I pull back before he can shoot his load. 

"You like your ass played with?" I whisper into his ear. He nods and I lick his earlobe, just a flick of my tongue. When he sighs softly, I run the tip of my tongue over the auricle and dip into his ear just slightly, making him squirm. Playfully I bite down and he moans my name loudly. I undo his bonds and tell him to turn over onto his stomach and he does carefully, minding his massive hard-on.

I spank him then with my bare hand. I start slow and soft and work my way up to hard smacks that make dancing red marks on his flesh that glow under the twinkling candle light of the small room. I give him fifteen hard slaps and he is grinding himself into the red, silk sheets, seeking some relief that I will not give him yet. He is breathing hard by the time I finish, moaning my name softly over and over, his ass cheeks warm to the touch. I leave him there, writhing with need while I put on my harness.

I go to the head of the bed and his eyes widen when he sees the strap-on. It has been months and I can see the desire in his brown eyes, the lust I see there makes my stomach clench. I grab his red black hair and pull him toward my huge silicone cock that juts out from my slim hips. 

He sits on the edge of the bed and blows me until I come standing, holding onto his broad shoulders for support as the orgasm rushes unexpectedly through me, knocking the breath from my lungs. He keeps sucking, even after the pleasure waves subside and I appreciate his skill while I watch. His tongue laps around the thick head of the dildo and he grips the base while he licks, his head bobbing just like in the porn we watch together sometimes. Just like my head bobs over his dick when I'm blowing him.

By the time I tell him to get on his elbows and knees his cock is rock hard. As I kneel behind him, I reach around to feel him and am pleased to find his erection massive and swollen. I lean into his body and let him feel the hard length of my toy pressed up against his ass. He moans and grinds his hips back into me, searching for some sort of relief, but it isn't coming to him quite yet.

I reach for the lube on the bedside table and make him watch while I jack off my cock with it, getting it nice and wet for him. I want him to see what is going in his ass; want him to lust for it.

"I'm going to fuck your tight, little ass so hard you scream," I tell his innocent looking face as I stroke my cock. He swallows hard and I can tell he is transfixed on my hand sliding up and down the hard plastic. I keep jacking it and it almost feels like a real part of my body. I moan softly and he licks his lips as he watches, still on his elbows and knees, his ass in the air, ready for me.

"I'm going to drive my cock deep inside you while you jack off," I say, gripping his hips and starting to rub the tip of the toy against his puckering hole. "That's what you want isn't, you dirty whore?" I slap his ass hard enough to make him cry out, leaving a red imprint of my right hand on his cheek. "Isn't it, slut?" I ask again, spreading his ass cheeks apart.

I can see his face turn pink while I stroke his ass hole but I know he is ready. The pre-cum has been leaking out of him like a faucet and I can see it dripping onto the red, silk sheets below us. He wants it bad.

"Tell me, Damien," I say, pushing the head of the cock against his asshole, waiting. "I want to hear you say you want it."

"Please, Kelly," He moans.

"Please, what?" I say dangerously.

"Please fuck me hard with your big cock." His hands grip the sheet, balling it in his fists as I start to slide the dick inside him in agreement. He relaxes his body as I push inside his tight ass inch by inch, my breath ragged now with desire.

As I begin to fuck him, he asks me to call him names. He craves for me to take him like this, rough and mean, making him vulnerable with my cock buried deep in his ass.

"You little bitch," I groan, really starting to pummel his tight ass, "You like taking it up the ass, don't you?" I drive into him hard, the harness bumping my clitoris deliciously and building the pleasure further.

"Oh, yes, Kelly, fuck yes," He pants, "Fuck my ass hard." He lowers his upper body and supports himself with just his left hand. With his right he reaches down and starts to stroke his cock in rhythm with my thrusts.

"You're a dirty cunt, aren't you?" I ask him, fucking him harder, the sweat dripping down between my pendulous breasts as I drive my cock deep inside him.

"Oh god," He sighs, jacking his cock harder; I know he is close, "Oh god, Kelly."

I feel my orgasm start to break and I tell him. "I'm going to come inside you, you little bitch," I moan loudly. "I'm going to shoot my hot load deep in your asshole!" I cry out and pound into him even harder as I come. I reach around and wrap my hand around his hand on his dick and squeeze him. I slide our hands together, slippery with lube and sweat over his raging dick until he comes hard after me, his thick come coating our hands and the silk sheets below.

I pull out of him and collapse next to him. He turns and cuddles me from behind, helping me slide out of the harness. I drop it to the floor, temporarily forgotten, and pick up the white comforter. I pull it up and over our wet, trembling bodies and we cuddle there together for a few minutes of contented silence.

"That was fucking amazing," Damien whispers against my neck, tickling me. "Thanks for leaving work early today." I feel him smile and he reaches his hand around to cup my breast. As I doze off in his arms I am surrounded by his cinnamon smell and the sweet scent of our lovemaking, not caring at all what my boss will say in the morning.



Damien Ch. 02



Lita stretched as she awoke and felt her body ache in places it had never ached. She opened her eyes to find herself alone to her surprise. She touched her breasts where only the night before Damien had suckled them to the point of tenderness, and now they were grazed with his mouth, but not for the worst. Her hand went on down and touched her pussy, stroking gently in remembrance. She could almost feel his cock entering her, and widening her only once used pussy. Even though her pussy was tender, she longed for him to be here. He excited her in ways Mr. Smythe probably never would. She wondered at his changing, and she wondered at the other object or probe that had entered her ass. Her fingers touched her ass opening, and though tender, it almost seemed as though he'd left "something" behind. She felt just a subtle movement, almost as though something were still moving. No, that's impossible. She sat up and grabbed a robe, and left the bedroom. He had to be here, because why would he leave? Just as she was about to walk downstairs, she saw her grandmother come to the stairs.

"Oh Lita, there you are! We decided not to stay after all; it just didn't seem like the place for us to vacation, so we came home. You were sleeping so soundly, we didn't wake you up to tell you we were home."

Lita was glad Damien must have heard them return and left soundlessly. How else would her grandmother not have known, for she surely would have thrown quite a fit! Lita wanted to call the Smythe's home and find out if Damien was there. She wanted to see him again...to feel his hands, tongue upon her body. They could find a quiet place to go, perhaps even a motel. She felt unusually adamant, and longed for him. What was wrong with her she thought! She felt angry with her grandparent's at their sudden return! She could have had Damien all to herself for the weekend, but no, they just had to return. But she said nothing mean to her grandmother. 

"I'm going to take a shower and then bicycle into town to do some window shopping Grandma, nice to have you home."

As Lita let the water let the water cascade over her body, she leaned against the wall, trying to remember the anal intrusion. What could it have been she thought to herself? What could have gone up in my butt? It almost felt like a tentacle of an octopus, but shaking her head she knew that just wasn't at all possible. As the water washed over her backside, she felt it again. A movement, and a very, very great need for Damien! She also felt the need to masterbate, but touching herself, the need to see Damien seemed all the more urgent.

Grabbing a towel, she hurriedly dried off, got dressed, and hurried downstairs. She grabbed a bagel, and hurried out the door before her grandparent's decided she wasn't going anywhere. She bicycled over to the Smythe's, determined to see if Damien was there, but after endless jabs on the doorbell, no one answered. Frustrated, she peddled away from the house, heading just anywhere, but nowhere. She turned the bike towards the bike path, but instead ended up pedaling into the newer development that no one had moved into yet. She looked at the sameness of each home, wondering who would move there. As she neared the cul-de-sac, she noticed a unique house almost done being built into the hill further on. It was completely glass in the front, but the back half of the house was actually built into the hill. Nearing it, she noticed a car very similar to the one that Damien had driven her home in. Her pedaling quickened, but she also didn't want to run into strangers. Just as she came almost to the driveway, she stopped and gazed at the car and house. She couldn't be sure, so she turned to leave, but stopped at a voice.

"Lita! Lita!" the man's voice called.

Lita turned and looked back. There coming out of the garage was Damien. She waved, and he called out to her.

"Lita, come here!"

Lita pedaled her bicycle into the driveway and up to him. 

"You left. My grandparent's are home, but I awoke and you were gone. I pedaled over to the Smythe's, but they weren't home, and I don't know why, but I came into the development, and here you..."

She said no more, for Damien's hand was on the back of her neck, pulling her head and mouth to his. His mouth claimed hers and his tongue encircled hers. He seemed to claim her mouth, senses, and any sense of conversation. He pulled her from the bike, and still kissing her, wheeled her bike into the garage, and pulled her into the house. Her senses seemed to be assaulted with his scent, his magnetism, or something. His hands unbuttoned her shirt, and dropped it to the floor, while his fingers tugged at her breasts. His eyes captured hers, and she watched him in fascination as his face began it's strange changing. As he tugged her nipple, his other hand unbuttoned and unfastened her jeans, and she stepped out of them. He pulled her into the dark den, and almost mysteriously, his clothes vanished. 

He laid her backwards over the back of the couch, and she felt his hands running over her body seemingly all at once. She could hear his breathing, rasp and rushed, and other sounds too. As she listened, it almost sounded like a slithering sound, and then she felt his cock head enter her pussy opening, and then he thrust forward, impaling her upon him. His body surged and the cock once again became enlarged, stretching her and becoming warmer and warmer. She cried out in want, and desperately began to push against him wanting to feel him possess her body. He leaned into her, holding her shoulders down within the couch, and then she felt it again in her ass. The same sucking tentacles as before, and yet different. The sensation she determined was what she had felt earlier in the shower. Something was still within her ass. She felt another object slipping into her pussy with his cock, and now another into her anal passage. The movement that was there before became rapid, and then settling as if joined suddenly with the new intrusion. The tentacles sucking as they went higher into her bowels. Almost as though trying to suck out her juices. 

She cried out into the cushions, for his cock was already so large, and now this new thing was there also, moving as if it had a mind of it's own, and the suction was so intense. And then as suddenly as she panicked, her body relaxed, and she began to orgasm in great gushes of cum. She began to rock against him as he thrust into her. The tentacles in both of her orifices sucking and slipping in and out. Her orgasms washed over her over and over, and then Damien began to cum. First from his cock and then from the tentacles. Sperm splashed into her pussy and ass as though coming from a water hose. Lita felt full beyond any sort of imagination. When it ceased, Damien slid from her and pulled her body to him. His face was leathery, almost snake quality, and yet also eerie, but very sensual. Lita looked down his body. His enormous cock drooped downwards, and connected to his cock were tentacles looking very much like an octopus's after all. Cum dripped out of each tentacle. Damien looked again longingly at Lita and said, 

"I hadn't planned to see you again so soon. And now...well now Lita my dear, since you have seen my body and its changes, I have a feeling we'll be seeing much more of each other on a regular basis, if not permanently. For you see, I am very fertile and you my dear have become my mate and vessel for more to come."

Even as he said the last sentence, Lita could feel whatever remained always within her move and begin its erotic dance within her bowels. His hands reached for her once again, and then deep inside her pussy was a quiver. Perhaps of things to come, or perhaps as though already feeling the life within.... 



Damien Ch. 03



It had only been a month since Lita had gone from the house in the cul-de-sac back to her grandparent's. She picked up her clothing, argued with her grandparent's and moved completely into Damien's house. She might have considered staying with her grandparent's for a while, except for the change in her body and the insistent need for Damien. The thing that had remained in her ass was almost an adamant alarm for when Damien wanted to have sex. It first began to tingle, and then if she weren't quick enough from wherever she was, it twisted, sucked, and pulled up and down within her. The first time she had felt it, she was in the grocery store buying their weekly groceries. She almost doubled up, feeling the erotic feelings begin more and more urgently. She hurried to finish her shopping, and by the time she had paid and scurried to the car, all she could do is lay against the seat and pant. Weakly starting the car, she was immediately glad they didn't live far, and rushed home. Pulling into the garage, she stumbled into the house, knowing instinctively where Damien was, and going to him. 

He had already changed and his face and body had a leathery gleam to it. He pulled her to him, and undressed her. Her belly protruded much more than just a week ago, but it didn't slow his need down. He pressed her down over his cock, and thrust deeply within her. His second and then third tentacle went into her, and the sucking began. Her body immediately sheened in sweat, and inner heat, as she pulled him closer to her. Their bodies looked to be an orchestrated being, not even two individual bodies. She felt his cock growing wider and it impaled her. The sucking and urgent thrusting within her orifices was almost more than she could take. Her orgasms began one after the other as she let him lead the rhythm, until he seemed to grow more and more and then exploded within her. Her pussy throbbed with ecstasy, and her ass felt as though more than one cock had fucked her. As his cock decreased in size, Damien leaned in and sucked her breasts. She looked down, and to her amazement, as he let one breast go to suck the other, drops of a milky substance oozed out. Damien sighed, and fully released her to stand. 

She went and took a shower and when she stepped out, she looked at herself in the mirror. Her belly was definitely bigger and then she saw it. A movement within her belly against the side...almost...well, almost as though a hand was pushing against her stomach. She put her hand against it, and pushed. It seemed as though there was a momentary resistance, and then it was gone. She looked more closely, but nothing more happened. She dried off, put a robe and went down to make dinner. They ate on the patio, over looking the hill. Soon after dinner, she felt the movement in her ass, and looked over at Damien. He began to shimmer, and then went over to a deck chair, and patted the chair for her to join him. She walked over and he pulled her robe from her body. She leaned against him. He put his hands on her breast and began squeezing her nipples. The tentacle began its dance inside her and she squirmed in the chair. Damien continued to squeeze her breasts as though nothing else mattered. It began to flutter and thrust within her. She moved and tried to stand, but Damien held her against him. 

The suckling became more urgent and it began to push against the inner walls of her rectum. Lita moaned and again tried to get up. Damien hooked his legs around her, so that her legs were spread eagle in the chair, but made no move to relieve her discomfort. She began to erotically hump her hips back and forth and get some sort of relief, but the tentacles expanded and moved further up inside her, fucking her ass as though now with a mind of their own. Lita began to feel the familiar urging of a climax, but couldn't reach her own clitoris, for Damien had trapped her arms within his. She humped back and forth on the chair as Damien pinched, pulled and massaged her nipples. She could feel the liquid coming out of her nipples and running down her stomach. It also seemed as though her stomach felt full, stretching further out, but she could do nothing but hump the air and try to satisfy the erotic sensations within her. The tentacle finally began to twist as it thrust deep within her, and she cried out as her climax overtook her and spilled out on the chair. Damien let her go, and tipped her forward, immediately thrusting his already expanded cock within her. Crying out with surprise at the wideness, he pushed it within her. Her pussy immediately opening and accepting him, he expanded further within her. The second tentacle pushed within her pussy too then, and then the next in her ass. He thrust as though a wild man, not seemingly to acknowledge her beneath him. He thrust over and over again, lost in his own ecstasy. Reaching around, her grabbed her nipples, twisting and pulling, almost painfully. Her pussy continued to climax until she couldn't anymore. Damien still thrust within her, and began to thrust harder still as her pussy started to dry. Her body felt as though it were alive with all the sucking, pulling, thrusting and expanding, but she was powerless to resist him. Just when she thought she couldn't stand it, he exploded within her. His breathing rasp, his eyes wild, and his body twitching and sliding back and forth. He sat back in the chair and pulled her back against him with his cock still embedded within her. He sighed against her back. As his body relaxed and pulled back out of her rectum, she felt again the tightening of her belly. Damien's hands rubbed against her belly and he whispered,

"Soon sweet Lita, soon we will have a little one of our own." 

He reached down and began to play with her clit, gently teasing and stroking her. She moved against him, felt the twitch of his cock within her, but nothing more. He laughed against her shoulder and then moved her forward as he let his cock slide out from her. 

The next day, Damien awoke Lita and told her;

"Sweetheart, come, get dressed, for we are going for a short ride. Here, put on this dress I've bought for you."

Lita rolled over, and then got up. She looked at the dress. It was about calf length, and made out of the most beautiful sheen, golden silk she'd ever seen. Damien had disappeared into the bathroom, and she dressed, was putting on makeup and Damien walked out of the bathroom is a tux. 

"Come my beautiful bride, we are going to make this a legal bond, for you will be the only one for me."

They went out and got into the car and drove into the mountains, stopping at a house also built partly into the mountain. A man opened the door of the house, and came out to greet them.

"Ahh" he said, "So this is the beautiful Lita."

Lita could feel his eyes caress her body as he looked her from the top down to the bottom. 

"Yes," he said in a seemingly leathery hiss, "I can see why you chose this one."

They walked into the home and stood in front of the fireplace. Damien took one of Lita's hands, and the man began the wedding vows. As Lita was saying her part in the vows, Lita felt the now familiar tingle in her rectum. Slightly squirming, Lita finished her vows and the man pronounced them man and wife. The tentacle began to twist and Lita leaned against Damien as he talked to the other man, seemingly unaware of Lita's discomfort. The tentacle began to squirm it's way up further and began to swell. Lita didn't want to cause a scene, but she was increasingly becoming more and more aroused. There was no furniture in the living room to were she could sit. She frantically looked around, but to no avail. The man turned to her and noticing her discomfort, laughed and said to Damien,

"I believe she quite anxiousssss to get home Damien. She looksssss as though she might want to have ssssssssome more of you right now."

Damien looked at her, his face beginning to shimmer and said, 

"Yes, it's time to take my wife home. Soon it won't be just us, so we have to make our time together as just the two of us now."

As they got into the car and Damien put the car in gear, Lita began to hump into the air in a urgent manner to claim her release. She pressed her fingers against her clit as they began to drive down the mountain. Her body began to respond to her urgent stroking. And then it happened, her belly swelled further outward, and she felt a sudden expulsion of liquid from her pussy, not a climax of any sort, and touched her thighs. Her hand came back with a pinkish tint on them.

"Damien, look, it's blood, what could be happening?" Lita exclaimed.

"Ahhh, not a moment too soon for the wedding, as our young one will shortly be arriving." Said Damien. "And from the way your belly is moving, it won't be like anything either one of us has ever seen!"

To be continued...

The End



Damien Ch. 04



Damien took his phone from his hip and punched in a number and began to talk to the same man that had performed the wedding ceremony, and then turned the car around and headed back toward the house. 

Lita still was feeling the urgent erotic feeling in her rectum, and an extreme pressure and pain in her pussy. And yet she knew her body wanted to achieve the orgasm first. She rapidly pressed her fingers back and forth against her clit and humped the air. Her pussy ached but pulsed also with excitement. Her stomach grew and stretched and she felt movements everywhere within her. Damien pulled into a dark cave like garage and her door opened, and although she couldn't see, hands pulled on her and she was extracted from the car. 

Not having achieved her orgasm her body writhed and moved, making walking seem unbearable. A dim light appeared on the wall, and she could faintly see Damien removing his clothes, his body changing, gleaming, and turning leathery. The people holding her were also naked, women and men. All movements then ceased, except for the urgent thrusting within her rectum. She moaned and danced a odd almost puppet dance, trying to complete her arousal. Then the hands pulled hers upwards, and chains attached to her wrists and held steady from above. The hands removed her clothes and then chains were attached to her ankles to further hold her into place. Damien came to her then and went behind her. He pushed his already swollen cock within her rectum thrusting faster than he had ever done before. Her body sheened with perspiration and she pressed against him with urgent need. As her first climax overtook her, she felt hands against her pussy and mouths against her breasts. They sucked and pulled and slithered against her. Then when she felt as though she would have the biggest orgasm yet, she felt a movement within her pussy, pushing against the barrier of her opening. The pain made her breathless, and still the hands didn't cease, but increase in tempo. As the birth continued, the people touching her constantly changed features, and even though they were caressing her, they were fornicating w/each other also. The air was moist and warm, and the pain within her was excruciating. No one touched her pussy opening, only her clit, her ass, and her breasts. For what seemed like hours Lita stood chained to one place, her womb bending, and pushing and moving. Damien stayed within her rectum thrusting as though an unsated lover.

Finally, Lita felt a horrible pain at her opening, and she screamed as the head of her child began pushing outwards. For what seemed like an unbearable time, the head seemed to only push thru half way, and no amount of pushing, or extending her body one way or the other would make it move. Then in a rapid movement, the head pushed out, and then the body came out too in one quick movement. Damien pulled out of her quickly, and when they cut the umbilical cord, a piece of "something" in a rapid transfer slithered up into Lita's rectum. She could feel it attach against the other piece already there. Once the child was born, Damien took it and Lita saw him disappear within a doorway with the child. Hands appeared now, and spread her legs further. Tubes were inserted up within her pussy, and liquid flooded her womb. Lita's body ached, and the pressure of the liquid made her hurt worse. A pump was attached to her breast and turned on, and the lights turned on brighter. The man that had performed the wedding ceremony appeared in front of her, and her wrist chains were lowered and her body came to rest on what appeared to be a chaise without the foot piece. They reattached her wrist chains, and the man began to pull the liquid tubes from her, only to replace them with other tubes which when turned on began to suck as though they were a vacuum. Lita moaned and writhed and fought against it, and then briefly she felt a needle slip into her arm and she remembered no more.

When Lita awoke, she was in a beautiful room that overlooked the valley below. Her body ached as she looked around at this room she'd never seen before. Moments later, Damien came in, their child nestled in his arms. He placed the child in her arms, and said, 

"Our son is a splitting image of you Lita...well that is when he is not angry!"

Lita counted ten fingers and ten toes. His eyes were crystal blue, his hair dark and is puckered his lips as he looked into his mother's eyes. 

"Why do you say, when he isn't angry? How could a baby get angry?" Lita asked Damien.

"Because when he decided he wanted to be fed, there wasn't much time to react before he got angry. You'll see soon, because his feeding is very soon!"

Lita continued to hold him, and said to Damien; "What should we call him?"

Damien relied, "I would like to call him a simple innocent name, because he will be anything but innocent! I would like to call him Angelo."

Lita nodded. A very good name for such a beautiful child. Angelo began to fuss, and began to scrunch his face up. Damien nodded at him, and then looked meaningfully at Lita.

"He's getting himself worked up. I would suggest right now you offer him sustenance, otherwise you will see his other side!" 

Lita handed Angelo to Damien so that she could open her gown for him. In one split second, Angelo's face changed. His eyes turned to yellow slits, a blood curdling scream was emitted from him, and his face became instantly leathery. Damien handed him back to Lita and she held him to her breast. His mouth instantly attached to her nipple, but the force of him sucking made her drawn in her breath quickly. The pain was intense, and then the tingling in her rectum began, turning into more of a burning yet erotic buzz. Lita twisted to try to ease the pain, but it began to move up and down within her, until she was very turned on, and yet very much in pain. Angelo continued to suckle, drawing out all his milk from one breast and then Lita quickly moved him to her other. Lita moaned and tried not to twist in bed, but that was all but impossible. Damien watched the interaction with a half smile. It was good to see that Lita would be able to handle the first interactions with their son, however he knew more changes would occurred as he grew, and the more intense discomfort Lita would have. No matter, Lita was his mother, and she would adjust.

When Angelo finished, his eyes had gone back to their crystal blue. He closed his eyes and was very soon asleep. Damien took Angelo to the nursery, and returned to find Lita still in discomfort. His son would have to learn quickly to release his mother from his hold after he was somewhere else. 

Damien watched Lita for awhile longer, and then pulled the covers from her body. Her body was still swollen from birth, but thinking of her, the now adjoined thing in her rectum began to convulse more now. Damien's eyes twinkled as he watched Lita struggle, and then he stripped, changed and joined his body with hers. Now commanding all entities within her to obey him, the dance began in a new and erotic way. Soon Lita's body responded to Damien, and they began together to move as one....or would it soon be more than one? 

Angelo slept unawares of his parent's mating. His dreams were of his mother, her body, and of the implant he'd given to her when he was born. He would grow faster than any normal child, and soon there would be different sort of steps for his mother to dance.



Damien Complies



Damien went for drinks. You had danced close and kissed the Detroit tourist earlier in the evening while I observed closely. You had not responded to any of his blatant requests. 

Damien had already asked about "your gentleman friend" as he termed me.

"Will he mind me paying you so much attention?"

"It's ok," you said. "Bill loves to watch." 

"Then come with me to the toilets and I will lick you until you cum!" 

Indeed! A bit of finesse please! You flicked his arse with your riding crop.

An inner city S/M club with no sex on premises does limit one's options, so handsome young Damien with his lovely tight arse in leather shorts and his full kissable lips had been easily forgiven his energy and enthusiasm. 

A handsome Asian boy approached you with a knowing look. In Damien's brief absence Lee, had wrapped himself around your back with his obviously large cock hard against your arse.

Damien watched holding the drinks while Lee got even closer, lifting your arse slightly off the dance floor with the force of his erection. 

You arched into him, your eyelids hanging heavy with lust. You were grinding you body against Lee to an insistent techno beat. 

Damien had seen enough, pushing past me to kiss you full on the lips. Two big, hard, heavy cocks now ground hard into you on the dance floor. 

I knew the brash young man with the American accent thought he was a Dom.

I let it go.

Toward the end of the night Damien repeated,

"My place, invite anyone you want." 

Lust is a demanding creature as we know and at that moment with two huge cocks vying for your attention, bodily wants defied your mind. From your gorgeous, tight little cunt came a pulse that bucked your hips with such violence both boys were briefly tossed aside. They literally had to hang on. The heat from your pussy crept along your spine. 

"OK let's go!" escaped from your lips.

It was a rapid exit from the club. Damien grabbed your hand, you grabbed mine and waved for Lee to follow. We gathered our gear, the boys quickly peeling off tight black leather outfits and dragging on jeans, socks, shoes... then they were gone... not a word.

We slowed our pace shrugging our shoulders. 

"Have I been dumped?" you wondered aloud.

Hand in hand we navigated the narrow corridors and then dark laneway that leads to the Oxford Street exit. 

"Let's just go home and fuck," you added, annoyed and maybe relieved.

We turned in unison as the beautiful sand coloured Mustang sports swung into the curb directly in front of us. 

No hesitation, we jumped in and roared off into the very early morning. 

Oxford Sreet disappeared and seconds later we erupted from the Cahill tunnels onto the Bridge. The air was cool and dried our sweaty bodies as your long blond hair whipped our faces.

It was exhilarating. 

Lee and I crammed illegally in the back, you up front with Damien driving. I noted only one hand on the wheel. His other hand disappeared under your short leather skirt. We laughed and whooped our way over the Harbour Bridge and into the back streets of North Sydney.

Damien's apartment was all he promised. Sparse, huge with gorgeous one eighty degree views of city lights twinkling across Sydney Harbour.

The view was even better as he proudly showed us, from the bedroom. 

1920's American Deep South Blues Music gently trickled from the stereo. We asked for tea when a drink was offered. Lee and Damien had whisky and ice.

I know this point, when the faint-hearted baulk.



So, surprising all I head to the bedroom. 

"Drinks in bed," I announce. 

I strip to my underwear then take the prime spot on the bed to best see the lights of Sydney and sip my tea. My back is against a pillow on the bed-head.

Casting off your clothes to your undies you join me and snuggle close also with your tea in your hands.

"Strip!" I say abruptly to the two boys. 

The dynamics in the room have altered rapidly. 

I know Damien will challenge.

Lee and Damien are down to underwear and moving to the bed. 

"Naked!" I say close to a scowl.

"Show your cocks!" you demand supporting me.

They both stop their approach.

"Naked," I repeat with an air of exasperation.

The boys stand before us as we sip tea. They peel off their underwear.

I hand you the riding crop from our club bag.

You place the cruel leather tip on Damien's semi hard cock. A flick of your wrist and his cock jumps. We watch his cock waver between excitement and uncertainty. You tap it gently. It makes a lovely slapping rhythm.

I motion Lee to step forward to my side of the bed. We both run our fingers over his beautiful cock. You lean over me and suck his cock into your mouth. 

Damien moves eagerly forward too. You stick the crop in his belly to stop him. 

"When I say," you manage to get out around Lee's cock.

"If you say," I correct you. We laugh.

Damien complies, his body twitching with urgent lust and annoyance.

I slip off your panties exposing your perfect little wet cunt to the boys. 

"Damien," I address him directly. "Lick cunt!"

As he climbs onto the bed you open you legs. I slip my excited cock from my boxers and place it directly onto your open glistening cunt. 

"Suck cock to lick cunt?" you smile.

We watch as my cock slides into Damien's mouth. Your crop stings his naked arse.

"Me now," you say and push me aside to guide Damien's tongue deep into your waiting cunt. 

You sting him again.

I reach for Lee, pull his arse to me and smack hard. 

I can feel his body drop as he submits so I ease him onto the bed. He too must suck my cock and he knows it. Lee positions his head on my lap as I kick off my boxers. 

Lee and I watch as Damien licks deep into juicy firm cunt. Your pelvis arches to meet his tongue. 

At your request he climbs along your body. You position your cunt to meet his cock and slide him in as deep as a cock can go. 

"Fuck me now!"

You both gasp with the pleasure of that contact. Big, hard, young cock deep in wet, tight cunt.

Damien is moving with ease in and out of you. Both of you fit and strong. Lee and I watch avidly. It's a beautiful sight. 

You stop him briefly to roll him and climb on. At close range we can all see Damien's fat, thick cock pushing into you. 

Your excitement is palpable, filling the room with grunts and moans.

My cock is now in your hand and it's being guided into Lees' mouth, inches from Damien's face. The sight of my hard cock in mouth and your slippery, open, willing, slurpy cunt on his cock is too much.

Damien cums. 

His cock pulses powerfully. White cum oozes from between your cunt and his cock and his thrusts sending cum flicking across the bed. Finally he seems to fold back into the crumpled, sweaty sheets. 

We all rest and recover. Damien is quieter, even allows a little laugh.

I take your body and hold you over me. You are sweaty, slippery, hot and still breathing hard from a physical fuck. 

We slide together.

Lee is behind you. You can feel his cock nudging your arse.

"Oil," you whisper to me. I reach into our bag.

You stroke Lee as we fuck, then slip an oiled finger into your arse.

Lee watches you finger your own arse and is in no doubt of what is expected of him.

Leaning over me you guide his oiled cock into your hole.

You back onto him. He holds his ground.

Relaxed, horny, oiled Lee's cock fills your arse.

Damien lays on his side, his head on a pillow and watches us fuck.

You cum.

Unexpected, rapid, wild orgasm simply overtakes you. Your arse and cunt full of cock grinding into you and against each other.

You are a horny, slutty nymph over us drawing out every bit of fuck we can give you.

Lee and I both know this is it for us. No holding back we fuck as strong as we can, trying to keep up with your ongoing pelvic fuck demands. 

Me first then Lee, just off simultaneous. We fill you again with even more cum. Three bodies throb in a pulsating unison. We fall exhausted sideways on the bed.

Sleep is very fast.

I wake briefly as Lee leaves. I see you kiss him.

Next time I surface from sleep the bed is moving. You are sucking Damien's rapidly engorging young cock. 

You slide along his body. "Give me another fuck before we go," you whisper in his ear. Each word punctuated with a little kiss.

Damien complies!



Damien Night



It's been a rough few months, but the continued requests for my story have helped more than you know. I need the confidence where I am. Unfortunately this is only some of it. I'm going to do everything I can to finish it in a timely manner. I might even go for a book out of it (but I will still finish this here). The world I'm creating is intriguing and Damien is a fun character to escape in. Oh yeah, these places exist in Houston and I've been to most of them...but they are not exactly as the are in reality. Keep in mind, I'm writing fiction here.

Now, without further ado...meet Damien Night.

***

"Oi! TEN THOUSAND YEARS...will give you such a crick in the neck!"

Damien laughed and popped another cheese puff in his mouth as he lounged across the soft white cow hide of the couch in a pair of boxers, the incarnation of every woman's fantasy. If he wasn't then he could fix that, but at the moment he had no designs on fulfilling any fantasies. The only thing he wanted to do was laugh about scantily clad women in a children's cartoon and eat junk food.

Ten thousand years.

He rolled onto his back, lacing his fingers behind shaggy sandy brown hair, and stared up at the ceiling with luminescent green eyes. His appearance may change according to the whims of those he pursued, but the eyes were always his.

Ten thousand years was a long time. To any human lying there it would have been unfathomable. It was still a leap for him even though he'd already existed half that span. The shit he'd seen, and there was always more. Still, five thousand years may not be a crick in the neck, but the occasional bouts of boredom were certainly a bitch.

He didn't bother to hang around and witness the aftermath of his latest conquest. The sexually repressed always 'tasted' best, but they were a dime a dozen. He didn't have to see to know what she would do, where she would end up. Or he didn't care. He wasn't sure today. Regardless, he'd set pretty little Makayla on a whole new path and some sort of chaos was bound to ensue. And she'd been fun, for sure. It was a little work worming his way into an executive position in her office, but he was a master of getting into tight spots and the look on her face was more than worth it. There was also a certain satisfaction in knowing how badly the dominoes would fall when the promising young new VP simply vanished off the face of the planet. The scenario wasn't new, though. He'd done it all, seen it all, fucked most of it. For the moment the prevailing attitude was 'same shit, different setting'.

That was a week ago and, while he was content to gnaw on food that didn't exactly fit that definition, it was simply for the taste. It certainly didn't provide the things he needed to survive. Not that it would have even if he did require such nourishment.

A week wasn't exactly long. He could go months, but boredom made him harder to satisfy. He could feel the itch; a stiffness in his muscles, a twitch in his groin, a need to feel the flesh of the softer sex writhing beneath his expert touch, the shock that coursed through her body the moment... He reached for the remote and silenced the sixty inch LED screen without looking at it. Suddenly Disney's "Aladdin" wasn't exactly the entertainment he desired.

He was still in no mood to put on some grand production. It took time. Find one he liked, invade her dreams, invade her life, invade her body...not necessarily in that order. At the moment he just wanted a willing victim, and he knew exactly where to get one. He glanced at the ten foot tall stretch of windows that opened over the Houston skyline and noted with annoyance that none of the clubs would be open for several more hours. At least it was an Underworld Saturday. Women of the gothic scene generally didn't need much prodding. When you open yourself up to the occult, you open yourself up.

He rolled off the couch and marched towards the bathroom. With a thought the integrated sound system keyed up Stevie Wonder's "Superstition" as he made his way past an open kitchen equipped for a gourmet chef in black marble and stainless steel, up the industrial style stairs that somehow looked like they were floating, and into the bedroom that might as well have been an entirely separate apartment. The bathroom was just as over the top. It was his version of a 1/1 efficiency, and completely unaccommodating to guests. Other than the cleaning crew he was the only being that stepped foot on the plush cream colored carpet, not that he needed to put a foot down. The only reason he walked the distance this time was because, to date, the sun was one of the few things in this corner of the universe that he couldn't bow to his whims and he had time to kill.

Of course at five thousand years, give or take a few hundred, you get pretty damn good at passing hours. By the time the sun fell below the horizon he was walking down Westheimer, legs encased in black leather. It was early November yet unseasonably warm, not that Houston had seasons, still almost too warm for leather. The mesh shirt, that left nothing of a hard etched torso to the imagination, compensated somewhat. He heard a male voice yell 'nice ass, honey' from somewhere behind him prompting him to let some of the more heinous things he was capable of roll off of him in an invisible wave. Now the surrounding populous made way for him the same way they would a side show freak. It didn't quell all interest but there was something for everyone in this city.

Hair like fine black silk hung nearly to his waist making the various bits of silver jewelry across his body stand out that much more. It wasn't his cup of tea but it was all the rage with the kids these days. Besides, his appearance would change a dozen times before he finally made a choice most likely. A pair of dark wraparound shades completed the look but they had a function. Dark clubs had a drawback when it came to eyes that gave off their own light, but they certainly didn't hurt when you were seducing a vampire bait wannabe.

He stilled the negative energy just before he cleared the front door, it wouldn't do to scare away the prey. Wandering through the crowds he listened for something easy. Some poor twit wondering why the hell she couldn't find someone to belong to or just longing for the ride of her life; someone who would fall without a fight. He moved towards a corner where a small group huddled together talking over the electronic notes, laughing. The girl, surrounded by 4 men, didn't exactly fit the profile...as far as he knew. He couldn't read her. Not something new, but not something common. In his present apathetic state she had the same effect on him that sirens did on water weary sailors, though he had far less to worry about than those sailors.

He caught thoughts of Facebook, computers, and that game World of Warcraft from the flock that currently fawned over her. It was just yesterday to him that computers were room sized metal boxes of beeping lights. Now they fit inconspicuously in small corners and occupied large spaces of the human mind, even overshadowing basic life requirements like food and sleep and sex...mostly. Sex seemed to be part of the intent at the moment as far as the men were concerned. He'd caught a few fleeting images he wouldn't mind making a reality. The fact that the girl was uninterested was painfully obvious, but the little tattooed pierced heroes of the cyber world seemed blissfully unaware.

She didn't belong there. That wasn't to say that she didn't look damn good in the black satin corset that hugged her torso beneath the pale swell of cleavage it supported, but something was off about her. Even her hair, dark enough to fade into the dim lighting of the bar and of considerable length, and the skin that contrasted it did not abate the inclination. He could not shake the feeling she simply wasn't where she was supposed to be, and it was more than the standard contented failure that infused the human populous.

While he contemplated an approach she presented one for him. The boredom finally caught up with her and her planned escape would take her right to him. He let the crowd swallow him and waited against a wall, keeping her in his peripheral vision to avoid alarming her. His inability to read someone was generally indicative of a more sensitive mind, and he didn't want her to panic before he had a chance to get close.

***

Annabelle listened with only half her attention. She just wasn't feeling it tonight. She came here to let loose and have an excuse to wear a corset, but she'd been up late the previous night with inventory and the feel she loved so much was closer to a hungry python wrapped around her body. Even the music did nothing to enliven her dulled senses.

She yawned.

"I have a little pick-me-up if you want." One of her companions mentioned. "Free for someone as lovely as you, Belle."

"No, thank you. I'll just get another drink." She needed a drug around this place like she needed another hole in the head. And the line was just lame.

"I'll get it." One of the other's piped up.

"No, I'd like the walk...alone." The last word came out more harshly than she meant but the attention was grating on her solitary loving nerves. Did someone spread a rumor she was easy or something?

She made for the bar feeling something out of place but couldn't put her finger on it. She tried to forget it, letting the industrial heartbeat of "KMFDM" wash it away. She did love this music. Leaning against the bar she waited to get the tender's attention when that something out of place suddenly felt right next to her.

"Get you a drink?"

'Dark sunglasses at night. Here's someone who takes himself too damn seriously.' She thought to herself.

"Na, I've got it. Thanks." She answered, ignoring the alarm bells that were going off for whatever reason. It wasn't the first time someone set her on edge like that, but she'd never been able to figure out why so there was no point in giving it a second thought anymore.

It was a lucky stroke for him that the girl headed off on her own to the bar, but their first encounter didn't leave her with the wobbly knees and dripping panties he was used to. So much for easy, yet it presented a challenge and he could never resist a challenge. That's why he'd purposely attempted to avoid them tonight. At least he could get a better look at her now. He liked the corset, the skirt, the legs. Especially the legs. He had every intention of having them wrapped around him by the end of the night. He had to resist the urge to reach out and touch her hair. Pulled back in a midnight pony tail that fell well past her ass, it reminded him of the chick from "Aladdin". Princess Jasmine would never look the same after the things he was going to do to her.

"How about I get the tender's attention for you?"

"With what? Magical powers?" She asked, arching an eyebrow in his direction and oh so obviously unimpressed.

He smiled, stared at the girl behind the bar until she looked his away and then inclined his head in their direction. A second later she headed their way. 

"Can I help you?" The blond smiled.

"Yes, my companion here needs a drink."

OK that was a little impressive, she thought to herself. They were at least 5th in line, though that was a complete guess. The bar was crowded.

Annabelle went for a better look at the man next to her and figured out why. He looked like he'd stepped straight of the pages of some Goth magazine; tall, dark and vampyric. Not really her type, but she might have paid to run her hand across the hard lines of his pale chest. The 'shirt with no shirt' look would have been comical to her on anyone else, but she was just fine if he decided to stick with it. Standing out against the smooth flawless flesh of his midsection were dark ink-lines unlike anything she'd ever seen. They reminded her of arcane lines, old spells. She shook her head and looked away.

"Thanks." She said nonchalantly when the tender went to get her Red Bull and vodka.

"You looked a little bored with your earlier cadre. Why don't we go upstairs and grab a table for a bit?" He continued while she waited.

"Watching me?" She quipped

"Isn't that what you do when you see something you want?" He said without looking at her.

It was cliché wasn't it? But, somehow, the arrogant bastard pulled it off beautifully. Her heart beat a little stronger, and she purposefully squashed the little voice that told her it was a bad idea. It wasn't in her to turn away from something that made her curious.

"Why not."

He followed close behind her as they made their way to the upstairs bar after she'd gotten her drink.

"So do you say more than just a few words?"

"Sometimes. What's your name?"

"Damien. Yours?" "Siren."

"It fits." He couldn't help but laugh at the odd coincidence, though he'd heard one of the men call her 'Belle'.

At the top of the steps they took a position against the wall, side by side, looking for an empty table to no avail. It didn't surprise her.

"Looks like we'll have to rain check it."

"Or," he turned and pressed a hand beside her head pinning her between his body and the corner of the wall as close as he could get without touching her, "we could go back to your place."

This close his scent rivaled the stale air of the bar, reminding her of heat and fire and something sweet that made her mouth water, but unlike anything she'd ever smelled before. She fought the sudden strange urge to draw her tongue up the side of his neck just to see what he tasted like. It wasn't easy with the racket her heart started making and the way her knees no longer wanted to support her. How long had it been since a guy made her feel like this?

"What makes you think I'm that kind of girl?" She asked, still trying to play it cool but sure she'd failed.

"I don't. But maybe you'll be that kind of girl for me."

God it was tempting. She stood still, as still as she could trembling as she was, while he closed the distance between them. Her lips parted slightly, something telling her there was no going back the moment he kissed her though she didn't care. She felt the heat of his breath, that first tantalizing brush of soft yielding lips, then was jerked back to reality by his agonized groan as he hit the ground at her feet.

Unexpected was an understatement. Talk about turning the tables. Damien was the one writhing, supporting himself by the wall on his knees, hand at his balls partially as a natural reaction to pain and partially to make sure they were still fucking there. 

"What happened?" She asked, dropping down to him. When she reached out to touch him he flinched away from her like she was made of fire.

"What did you do to me you bitch?!" He growled. With the pain coming in waves he didn't have a single civil bone in his body at the moment. He missed something. He knew this feeling. A protective spell. A powerful one. How the fuck had he missed that?

"Nothing." she answered, her tone one of complete shock.

His shades had been dislodged and he stared at her over the rims with an eerie green glow. She stood up, backing away as the light of recognition broke in her eyes. The entire bar was staring at them, but neither noticed. She was hearing old words from a brittle aged voice.

'Never take it off, Annabelle. Promise your old grandmother you'll never take it off.'

Annabelle grabbed the ancient pewter pendent nestled between her breasts and watched as Damien tried to get up, readjusting the dark glasses. It made sense. The way the bar tender reacted to him, the scent, now this. Maybe her grandmother wasn't so crazy after all.

"Your a-"

"Pissed off fucking demon!" He grunted trying to focus on her through the halo of tears. Tears! god-damned tears!

"I swear...I didn't..." She couldn't form a complete sentence. As she continued to back up she ran into a solid mass.

"Is there a problem here?"

Damien stood on unsteady legs, noting the wall of muscle now standing behind his Siren. She was indisputably distressed. So the girl had no clue what she was wearing which must be why he missed it. She was no hunter, and hopefully the one that gave the damn thing to her was no longer around. The bouncer wouldn't have been a problem but he didn't really want to draw any further attention to himself. He would have no trouble finding her later.

"No....I was just...leaving." He panted.

Annabelle watched Damien limp towards the stairs and then disappear into the crowd.

"Are you okay miss?" The bouncer asked, momentarily breaking through the aura of shock.

"Yeah, I just need a cab." She answered distantly, definitely not in the mood to stay now.

She slammed the drink on the way to the front door to calm her nerves, most of her hoping she'd seen the last of Damien.

***

A hot shower sounded like the perfect cure to the strange events of the night. Stripping off the black steel boned corset was nearly orgasmic. It was probably one of the reasons she enjoyed wearing them so much. Stepping into the streaming heat from the shower did much to finish relaxing her frazzled nerves. She closed her eyes and let the liquid move across her body, slowly unknotting muscle wherever it touched. 

Something felt off again, but she ignored it. She was still processing the possibility that all the crap her Gram had filled her head with years ago might be true so that had to be all it was. Shutting the water off, she grabbed a towel and stepped out into the small steam clouded room. She was almost to the sink when she heard him.

"So, do you ever take that thing off?"

Damien waited a moment, letting her get several steps away from the tub before he made her aware of his presence. He expected a reaction. He was an intruder standing in her bathroom and she had no idea what he meant to do to her. The ear piercing, blood curdling scream she gave up the moment she laid eyes on him almost made up for the shit he been through earlier. He watched her pull the towel tight over her body frantically searching for something to defend herself with or her phone. Either way the search was fruitless, he'd removed any 'issues' the moment he stepped into her abode. 

"What the fuck?!" Annabelle said with a murderous glare when she could find nothing that she was searching for. Adrenaline burned through her veins, focusing her, making her aware that the only option she had at this moment was to wait and see.

"Surprised to see me?" He nearly giggled, enjoying himself as he was.

"How the fuck did you get in here?!"

"Oh, little Siren, I can get inside anything I want." He answered with a malicious grin. He had to admit he took a great deal of pleasure watching the anger evaporate from her leaving nothing but pure fear in its wake as she backed away from him. She may not have meant to hurt him, but he was tempted to make her pay for it anyway.

"Are you going to kill me?" Her voice was surprisingly strong considering the look of complete terror in her eyes.

He shook his head, still leaning casually against the far wall.

"Tried the necrophilia thing once, just didn't do it for me."

She inched farther from him, a look of revulsion shadowing her eyes. He stifled a smile. It was fun but it was time to dial things down a bit. Revulsion didn't exactly lead to putty in your hands.

"No, no, no, love, I'm going to fuck you." He said casually, pushing off the wall and walking slowly toward her expecting her to continue backing away until her heels connected with the base of the tub, but she stood her ground.

"But you can't touch me." The hand not holding the towel in place grasped that damnable pendent.

"For the moment." He said coolly, circling her. "Trust me you want to take that necklace off." He whispered close to her ear as he stopped behind her.




Damien Night Ch. 02



Sadly they closed the Barnes & Nobles near the Galleria. Apparently Amazon and Kindle are killing the book industry, but I will always buy books. There is just something wrong with reading a book without being able to touch the page, and I have a beautiful bookmark my husband got for me. I hope to one day see my own words in print in a book store somewhere. Regardless, here is the next instalment. I hope it's not too difficult to read. For some reason I cannot upload word files so the formatting sucks :(. Also if someone reading this has a thing for grammar and likes reading my stories I need an editor. Drop me a line. Thanks, Raven. 

***

Honestly he'd had no intentions of doing anything but learning more about her, but she lied to him. It was impossible to resist proving just how much she was 'into men'. Unfortunately now he was frustrated. Another moment and she would have given in completely, but he'd come close to kissing her too soon. The remembrance of the penalty for that infraction effectively ended their interlude. In truth he was fine with that, frustrated but fine. He didn't want tired numb acceptance from her. It never tasted as good when a woman just gave in.

He still meant to learn. It was a challenge he had not undertaken in ages; digging deeper than just a fantasy. Add the fact that she knew he was more than just a good fuck and suddenly the tired game had new depth and dimension. Annabelle was a thoroughly fascinating change of pace.

Several hours later he was back on Westheimer, standing outside the Barnes & Nobles near the Galleria listening to the sounds of life around him. Going through the motions of existence might become tedious but humans were rarely boring. There was always something strange, disturbing, or comical in the minds that drifted around him. A stray thought regarding a fist and a long black pony tail spurred him inside.

Annabelle concentrated on placing the barcode labels before she shelved each smooth hard bound book. Her activities this morning had backfired on her a little. She was finding it hard not to think about his cock of all things. He looked like a freaking Calvin Klein model for fucks sake and all she could think about was what was between his legs.

'He's not even human!' She told herself silently as she slammed a book into place. A disturbing image of some wormlike creature with teeth dangling between his knees simultaneously disturbed her and made her laugh, but also served to abate some of her frustration.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but I seriously doubt that book did anything to deserve that treatment." Annabelle jumped when she heard his voice then put her face against the coolness of her fingertips to calm herself before acknowledging him.

"Oh you. What a pleasant surprise." She said in an acerbic tone as she pulled a barcode sticker off the printed roll. "Plan to embarrass me in the store?"

"No. I was just curious."

"About?" She asked shelving a large coffee table style book bound in fantastical drawings of dragons.

"You."

"It's easy. I'm boring and a complete waste of your time. I work at a bookstore. How much more boring can you get?" 

"I have a lot of time to waste, Annabelle, but I also find you anything but boring."

She sighed and shook her head in frustration, ignoring his eyes on her. There was no winning with him. She didn't bother asking why he found her interesting. She had a feeling knowing that wasn't going to help her resist him.

"Suit yourself. I'm shelving books today. If it interests you, eat your heart out." She said as she slammed a copy of HR Giger's, "Necronomicon", into place.

"If you don't like working here, I could make it so you never have to work again." He put his back to the bookshelf at her right side so he could see her face.

She looked up from her book and barcode she was working on. "Trying to strike a deal with me?" He simply smiled as he crossed his arms and leaned back.

"Don't bother. I don't care how good it sounds there is always a string attached when one deals with entities like yourself."

Her response didn't surprise him, but he thought he'd give it a try anyway.

"If that's what you think." He said as he watched her place another barcode.

"No, it's what I know. I'm already on to all your little tricks so you should go away." She looked straight at him, slipping another book into place near the level of his head. A moment later she frowned in confusion when he turned towards the book, closed his eyes and inhaled.

"Mmmm....what I wouldn't give for a taste. Enjoy yourself this morning did you?"

Annabelle jerked her hand back as if the book had burned her. She could feel the heat pooling in her cheeks and the butterflies dancing in her stomach. She was utterly mortified. 

"Obviously I don't need you." She said as she stared at the barcode sheet having forgotten what she was doing with it.

"But you obviously want me."

She gritted her teeth and forced herself to look at him. "*I* don't want you. The response is beyond my control. The only p-thing that *wants* anything here is you and you can satisfy whatever bizarre craving you have with any other woman in this city and they are all far more accessible than I."

She trembled with anger, desire, and maybe a touch of fear but it was fast fading. She was beautiful, and if it wasn't for that cursed piece of metal nestled against the warmth of a body denied him the scene in the quiet little book store would have been the centerpiece for tomorrow's news. 

"Then what do you want, Belle?"

"Nothing you have." She answered in an acid laced tone.

"Oh?" He smiled coming around the little cart and trapping her between the bookshelf and his body. "Tell me was it my tongue or my cock on your mind as those slender fingers toyed with your clit this morning?" he whispered.

"Shut up." She hissed, nails digging in to the palms of her fisted hands as she fought the urge to use to the one weapon she had against him.

"I wasn't there, Belle, and yet you still *wanted* something so wrong again." He pressed closer, his hands going to either side of her shoulders so she could no longer move without risking his earlier threat. Wielding his presence like this wasn't exactly helping to further his goals but if acid was all the girl had for him then he had no problem dishing it right back at her.

"Go away, Damien." She said through gritted teeth wondering how the hell he kept getting her into this position.

"Never." He whispered calmly.

"Is there a problem here?"

Mara, Annabelle's boss, stood at one end of the little isle and for once she was elated to see her. Normally she couldn't stand the overly cheerful petite brunette and her pixie haircut, but the unexpected interruption gave her a chance to refocus the thoughts Damien so easily scattered. 

When his heated gaze focused on Mara, Annabelle watched her take an involuntary step back and then immediately try to collect herself as she batted her dark eyelashes at the otherworldly stalker. 

"Well hello there." She said in a shy sweet voice. Annabelle looked backed at Damien and jumped. The sandy blond hair was gone revealing a slick sun-bronzed skull that stood at least another 2 inches higher than before. Rippling muscle was easily visible beneath the form fitting t-shirt that tapered to a narrow waste hugged by a pair of jean shorts. Jesus, he could have crushed her in his forearms alone. The hungry look her boss was throwing his way indicated she had no clue a few seconds before he'd looked completely different. 

Damien stepped back and gave Mara a curt nod of acknowledgement but the twitter pated girl didn't seem to notice his cool reaction toward her. 

Annabelle contemplated bolting, but it obviously wasn't going to do her any good. Looking at her smiling boss an idea struck her.

"No, Mara, no problem here." She laughed lightly. "I was just helping my friend pick out a book for his new coffee table. Damien, this is Mara. Mara, Damien."

"Wow, aren't you just...I mean...is there anything I could help you with?" She stumbled over the words a little as she edged closer to the hulking presence that was Damien at the moment. Anna was still trying to wrap her mind around that one.

"Actually, Damien," she said smiling a bit too brightly, "I am really busy. Why don't you let Mara help you out?"

Damien's laugh was low enough that Annabelle didn't think Mara could hear it. 

"Yes, Mara, let's see what you can do for me." He moved forward, making Mara look positively tiny in comparison. As the two disappeared around the end cap Damien's eyes cut back towards Annabelle with a wicked smile which she shook off. Whatever Mara did was her choice, and Annabelle wasn't about to feel guilty for pawning the bastard off on her. 

She piled everything on the cart and pushed it back to the center kiosk before heading to one of the reading areas for a little light cleaning. Her shift was almost up and things needed to be tidy before she left. She revelled in the moments of silence swearing she would never again begrudge her lonely life as she straightened magazines and stacked a few small books in the crook of her arm.

"Can you imagine what this body would do to that woman?"

The jolt of surprised caused her to drop the little pile of books as she turned to find Damien sitting casually in one of the chairs.

"Really?!"

"If it were that easy to get rid of me I would have gone sniffing after the first skirt that walked by don't you think? Besides, if they found your boss dead in the back room you'd be out of a job for at least a few days."

Annabelle's stomach twisted into a hard knot.

"So you do...kill."

"Not generally, no, but in the state I'm in now I doubt it'd end well for your little boss, freak or not."

"Good now I have ample reasons not to take off this necklace." She snapped, stooping to pick up the books and trying like hell not to cry out of sheer frustration.

"I wouldn't kill you, Annabelle. I might want to come back for seconds."

"Wow, I'm flattered." She all but growled sarcastically as she reached for the last book that had slid just out of reach of the others. She jumped back, dropping the books again when the sandy haired Calvin Klein model appeared crouched in front of her holding the book she sought.

"I'm not going anywhere, Belle, so you could make this a little easier on yourself and just play a little nice. I will reciprocate."

It wasn't easier. She needed to hate him. He'd already gotten far enough under her skin and anything that made him any less a monster only let him in that much more, but how long could she keep up this venomous attitude? It had only been a day and she was already exhausted. Annabelle was far from a bubbly socialite, but she wasn't the type to spit nails either. She touched the little pendant beneath her uniform polo shirt as she stood and let out a slow breath.

"The musical appearances are unnerving. Why didn't Mara see you do it?" she said in an even tone as she watched him stand to a height only slightly taller than her. She didn't lie, the constantly changing shapes were unnerving, but she was glad he was no longer the overgrown body builder from a moment before.

"Human's tend to process the impossible by simply ignoring it altogether." He answered with a light smile.

"Why change if you weren't interested in her?"

"It wasn't my choice."

"Mara?"

"Apparently she likes'em big." 

Annabelle shuddered at the unwanted knowledge regarding her rather annoying boss.

"So what do you really look like?"

He hesitated. Annabelle was damn good at reading people. It was why she so rarely liked them; so many were two faced as they come and the rest she just didn't get. Most of the time the creature in front of her was self-assured and un-plagued by doubt, collected and even wise, but the question obviously jarred him even if only for a fraction of a moment.

"What do you want me to look like?"

"Sounds like something a whore would say."

"So we are back to venom? Do you really want to push me little Belle?" He stood over her now, one eyebrow arched over a dark gaze that made her feel like she was shrinking. The pleasure in actually pushing a button of his was small as she kept her eyes lowered in silence until he backed off.

"Why me?" She asked into the quiet as she once again tried to pick up the little pile of books. "Is it just that you can't have me? I promise you I'm not worth it." 

Damien cocked his head to the side and watched her. Strong, lithe, fiery, not unlike the one hunter he'd met in the many years he'd walked this Earth, though that one was also silent as the grave and focused to a fault. Of course that hunter had also been male and nearly killed him. This one was proving to be far more entertaining.

"I'm bored."

She frowned at his simple answer that answered nothing.

"And what does that have to do with me?"

"Boredom can be deadly when you live long enough. You, my dear, are currently alleviating my ailment."

She stopped in her tracks. She'd resolved not to ask this question only an hour ago but there had always been something so different about her and this creature knew what it was. It had to be the reason he found her so interesting. He could confirm she wasn't crazy though with the shit she'd put up with from him already she found herself wishing she was. Of course if wishes were horses, or some such nonsense, regardless there was no going back now and she had a feeling whatever riptide of events she'd gotten caught up in was going to sweep her out of her personal reality whether she went with it willingly or not. She might as well get what information she could.

"Why is that?" she asked after she turned toward him.

"Part of the interest is that you don't know."

"Dick." Annabelle muttered and headed towards the computer to drop off the books and clock out.

He'd give her that one. Not that he honestly cared, but there were the dynamics of the game to consider. And while telling her would most likely get him a point in the endearment category and a good step closer to getting that damn necklace off her, among other things, there were more consequences than he was prepared to deal with. Looking across the store at the Starbucks an idea struck him, and he caught up to her before she could leave the little workstation.

"Have coffee with me." Damien requested, leaning over the counter.

Her response was a sharp 'no' followed by a polite 'thank you' a moment later.

"Have coffee with me and I'll let you sleep in tomorrow." 

Annabelle resisted the urge the glare at him as he smiled at across the partition that divided them. There were two rules that should never be broken; the first being the removal of her amulet and the second having to do with deals: never. make. one. A replay of this morning clicked on in her head and how very nearly she'd given into him causing her to decide right there that this deal was the lesser of two evils.

"Swear?"

"Deal." He answered with a grin.

"Fine."

She walked faster than she meant to, threading through the shelves as she concentrated on the menu in her head. No matter how hard she tried she only managed to entice him. Gram had her terrified of these creatures. She never once mentioned they had the capability of being so unbelievably hard to resist.

Suddenly that off feeling she got when Damien showed up doubled itself. Something caught her eye, a man standing in one of the sections close the coffee shop. She looked twice to make sure she'd seen it. Something dark and wormlike wound its way around his neck, across his shoulders and down his chest. It looked like a shadow, but there was nothing to cast it. It undulated across his skin making her own skin crawl. She came to a dead stop.

'What the fuck?!'

Damien followed her line of sight settling on the weak-minded fool mumbling to himself as he stared unseeing at a row of books. To any human he must look like a mild lunatic, but the pallor of his little siren suggested she was seeing much more. The thing was the lowest of his kind, no better than a hagfish feeding on the most base of emotions, those that didn't have names and were chalked up to insanity. Any question he had left as to whether or not she should have been a hunter or not died right there.

"See something?" Damien said from somewhere to her right.

"What did you do to me?" She snapped.

"Nothing." He said innocently. "Apparently you are very open to us."

The man caught her staring before she could turn away, drawing a chill across her shoulder blades.

"Us? Is that what you look like?" she whispered, glaring at Damien.

"No, that's what it looks like. I'm quite different I assure you."

"Whatever." She picked up the pace and headed toward the coffee shop, a small hard ball of fear settling in her stomach. What else had her Gram kept from and why the hell was all this happening now?

Damien watched her stomp towards the counter of the coffee shop. It was an interesting development, and not a wholly good one. Some of the creatures that existed alongside her world made the most vile haunted house look like a walk through Disneyland replete with singing princesses. There were, frankly, some things few humans could imagine. Not something he needed her associating him with. On the other hand he was now her only guidepost in a world she was not prepared for. A somewhat twisted guidepost but it wasn't like there were a lot of choices available to her.

He entered the coffee shop and claimed an empty table while she ordered her drink. She took the seat across from him after the barista got her order to her. She said nothing, simply staring at the steaming cup of dark bitter and creamy liquid while he watched.

Life could change in the blink of an eye, even after five thousand years. The last 24 hours had changed more than he thought possible. It was a strange feeling. It was stranger still not knowing how to proceed with her. Suddenly not being able to read her mind irked him considerably. Even her body language gave nothing away.

"What is it you know about me, Damien?" She said finally breaking her silence.

"Make you a deal." He answered with a mischievous grin.

"You couldn't do it out of the goodness of your heart?" She sighed.

"Love to but I'm missing one crucial variable to complete that equation."

"Right. No heart." She took a slow slip and looked around nervously wondering what else was going to jump out at her now. 

She heard him laugh softly and looked back to him.

"What's so funny?"

"Irony." He paused and watched her pretty brow crease into a frown. "I think you might need me now, love."



Damien Night Ch. 03



Sorry this has taken so long, and for the formatting. I still can't upload word documents. And it's not done yet. This could be good or bad depending on how you want to look at it. Hope you enjoy it either way.

**********************************************

He kept his end of the bargain. Annabelle woke with a fully risen sun glaring at her through her one window and no Damien to be found. They spent the remainder of the evening in silence last night and he made no attempt to amend that. It was strangely comfortable while she finished her coffee, and then she left without saying a word. It was confounding as to what exactly he was trying to do there which was probably the point. He would doubtless do anything to wear her down for what? Did he really just want to fuck her as he'd so callously stated in her bathroom that first night? Lying in bed she was suddenly regretting not asking more questions.

She laughed and shook her head after she'd stared at the white plaster ceiling for another 20 minutes. He might not have been there, but he still managed to wake her earlier than she would have liked. Most responsible adults would have clucked their tongues at the fact that she was still in bed at 9:30 in the morning on a weekday, but she wasn't exactly a normal responsible adult.

She reluctantly climbed out of bed, slipped on a pair of black yoga pants and thin pink tank top, and meandered into the kitchen in search of something breakfasty. She was frowning over the expired date on her gallon of milk in the open door of her refrigerator when that dissonant chord in her senses chimed. She didn't even bother looking this time.

"It's still early." She mumbled.

"But you are already up so I'm good. I also brought a peace offering."

She heard the crinkle of a paper bag as he set something on the counter and sent the scent of butter, cheese and sausage wafting across the tiny kitchen. She knew the smell of a good breakfast sandwich anywhere. She turned around to find him sitting on what little cream colored counter there was next to the twin steel sinks. She was relieved to see the sandy blond hair she was used to, but today he wore a simple black duster over his t-shirt, boots and jeans. Strange since the weather still hadn't turned cold.

"Peace? As in you've decided to leave me alone?" She asked without much hope. There was no way she was turning that sandwich down though.

"No, trying to butter you up. Is it working?" He reminded her more of an imp than a demon at that moment. That was a good thing. Imps weren't really sexy and the sex was the part she was having the hardest time resisting.

"So, you like you're meals basted?" She asked unable to the resist the bad pun as she took the sandwich from him. It was a mistake. The smile he flashed her in response effectively evaporated all imp-like qualities and made her knees weak. Damn him.

"Come on, we're going to Galveston today."

"I have to work." She said more to the sandwich than to him.

"No you don't."

"And how do you know that?"

"You write everything on your calendar. How do you think I found you before?"

"And before that?"

"Followed the cab home."

The guy could randomly completely change his appearance and appear anywhere he wanted to. Suddenly her concern over how he found her anywhere was meaningless.

"Then the answer is just 'no, thank you'. There I even said it politely." She gave him a half smile then continued to devour the breakfast he'd brought.

"Because being cooped up in a small space alone with me is so much more appealing?" He asked, dropping down off the counter and leaning back on his elbows.

'Shit.'

Annabelle finished chewing the bite she'd just taken, and then glared at the sandwich like somehow it could be blamed for all of this. The prospect of being alone with him for an unknown number of hours was dangerously tempting.

"Galveston sounds lovely." She answered, putting the sandwich aside. "When do we leave?"

He cocked his head to the side and looked her up and down casually.

"After you change?"

'Yay! Another round of stare at the naked girl', Annabelle thought to herself. You would think a supernatural being who gave the impression of being considerably older than anything she knew would be more than a godforsaken pervert. She gritted her teeth and turned to make the short walk to the bedroom. At the door she looked back to find him still leaning against the cheap Formica countertop.

"Not coming?" She asked with a tight smile thoroughly against him holding any sort of pretense in this situation.

Damien laughed but refrained from voicing his first thought on that.

"Do you want me to?"

"No. But you..." She started, their first meeting in her little bathroom still fresh in her mind.

"Then I'll wait here. I told you, play nice and I'll reciprocate."

"Right." She walked into her bedroom more than just a little flustered wishing she had the emotional stamina, or even capability, to be pissed at him 24/7. She picked out a pair of jeans, her green top with the empire waist line, and black flip-flops. Changing quickly she headed back to the main living area while taking deep breaths and telling herself she could do this. Whatever he had planned for her she could resist.

"What, no black?" He asked playfully as she emerged from the bedroom.

"I'm only a part time goth. So how exactly are we getting to Galveston?" Getting out of the little apartment wasn't such a bad idea even if it was with some otherworldly sex crazed entity, but still... "I've yet to see you drive a car and my travel-by-thought skills are a little rusty."

"Really? I seduce women for a living in the literal sense and you don't think I have a car? You don't spend much time with your own kind do you?"

"No." She said flatly. How could he know anything about her kind? She wasn't a superficial Barbie Doll on the lookout for her next sugar daddy. She didn't even like things. She wasn't sure she really liked anything. Oh well, she didn't give a rats ass about other women anyway.

"Come on. Let me show you why women like cars."

Annabelle rolled her eyes but followed him, locking the door behind them on the way out.

It wasn't hard to figure out where they were heading the second she hit the parking area. It was a deep pearl black, all smooth curves hugging the ground like a panther preparing to pounce on some unsuspecting victim. She had a feeling it would share the deadly feline's low growl when he started it up as well.

"Ferrari." She noted when the familiar prancing pony on its yellow background came into view. "Shock surprise."

"Hmmm...sarcasm; your defense mechanism of choice." He fired back as he opened the passenger door for her.

She slid into a leather seat softer to the touch than any she'd encountered before. A swift glance around the small cabin after he shut the door produced more details than she cared to consider. You didn't have to be an aficionado to see the consideration put into every inch of this particular car masterpiece. So this was luxury? She wanted to care less though having nearly every control right on the wheel instead of off various protrusions sticking out to the side was nice. There were no cup holders, though.

"What do you think so far?" She heard from the driver's side as he slid in and shut the door.

"Nothing I'd sell my soul for." 

"I should hope not, Annabelle."

"Really? Then why do you have the car?"

"I just like the reaction it gets."

His thumb brushed the red button on the wheel and the car immediately responded to his touch. Even expected the low rumble made her jump. Of course while Damien did a lot of things to her, making her comfortable wasn't on the list so nearly everything around him made her jump.

"Fast or slow?" The car started to back up prompting her to click her safety belt into place.

"Slow please." She answered quietly, a nervous tremor in her voice as she eyed the car with the same wariness as the panther it reminded her of.

He stopped there in the middle of the parking lot and stared at her until she looked back at him.

"How about if I guarantee you that nothing bad will happen to you while you are in this car?"

"What? What's so great about going fast?" She asked a confused frown on her face.

"It's about not being in control all the time. You barely even lose your temper. Haven't you ever wondered what it's like just to let go?"

'Every. Fucking. Day.'

"And how is being in a car going fast doing that?" She asked with mild contempt.

"It's a new experience, an adrenaline rush, a situation in which you have no control...take your pick."

Life was exactly as she planned it; a controlled orderly placement of events. Those around her were nothing more than random objects that bounced off her well placed barriers. Emotions were small blips; empirical evidence recorded distantly as data and summarily dismissed. Anger, sadness, happiness, desire; they may peak for a moment but the next they were gone. She was numb to the world and had been for years, other than the annoyance she found in people. Sometimes she wondered if she was even human. Since he showed up things had changed. She was jumpy, her heart raced, she fought desire when it had never been an issue before. It wasn't that she'd never felt them, but now they seemed to penetrate that barrier between her and the rest of the world. They lingered. Yes the unerring control was still there, but now it seemed to have a purpose. 

Annabelle shook her head suddenly. It was a bad idea. Everything with him was a bad idea.

"You can't possibly guarantee nothing bad will happen."

"And four days ago you would have said that demons can't possibly exist, yet here I am. I think your sphere of possibility is a little larger than you'd like to believe."

'And growing daily', she thought to herself. 

"Fine. Let's go."

Damien smiled to himself as he put the 458 Italia in drive. He was finally giving her a ride. No it wasn't the one he was driving towards, but it definitely got him a step closer. He took it easy at first. Even midmorning on a Monday traffic on Westheimer had a tendency to be thick. Hopefully he'd get lucky and find clear sailing all the way to Galveston once he hit 610. Putting the car through her paces would take the edge off some his hunger. While most of the marvels of technology from the current century and the last had passed him by without so much as a nod in his direction there was something about sports cars, and it wasn't just the edge it gave on some female psyches. Sleek power that responded enthusiastically to the slightest touch, they were the technological equivalent to lust.

He watched her shift uncomfortably out of the corner of his eye as he maneuvered through traffic.

"It's not really meant for city driving unless you just want to show off."

"Oh? What else is it meant for?" 

"Speed, pure and simple, and it does it well. That's what it was built for. It is a travesty to waste this much power cruising some traffic laden side street."

Damien cleared the on ramp to the 610 loop giving the Ferrari a little nudge as he started slipping through checkered traffic. There were still too many cars to really open her up, but the intention was evident in that first gentle thrust as his foot tapped the accelerator.

"Fast enough I think."

"We're barely breaking 80. She's not even warmed up yet, and you are not in control this time." 

"And the possibility of getting pulled over?"

"Promise you it's not a problem." He answered focusing on dodging traffic while pushing 90 mph.

He had to slow to merge onto 45 and again at the beltway - dammit Houston traffic sucked – but the road on the other side of the line of cars waiting to enter was as open as it ever got in this city.

"Ready for this?"

"Not really." She had a white-knuckle grip on the edge of her seat. Funny that a strange creature showing up in her bathroom in the middle of the night scared her less than a car.

He downshifted and pressed the accelerator to the floor causing 570 horses to suddenly, and eagerly, lunge forward. The force thrust her back against the seat to the sound of an engine that was felt as much as heard. Annabelle had to wonder what the hell scaring the shit out of her – again – was going to accomplish, then the machine relaxed into the momentum like it was born to. The other cars were nothing but a flash of color as Damien slid through them with the skill of a Formula 1 racer and a smile on his face. That familiar adrenaline rush burned through her, quelling the fear. She could almost taste it; what it might be like to throw her head back and howl, to just let go. Maybe she just needed to scare herself badly enough that whatever emotional lockdown was activated every time things started to build to high just broke. It took an act of will not to tell him to go faster. He was right. By the time he reigned the Ferrari back in just before Highway 6, Annabelle liked this car.

A few minutes after they had slowed he inclined his head towards a black and white sitting on the side of the road. "I fear the ride is over."

"How did you know he was there?" She asked, the smile in her voice and the way her breath came a little harder surprising her.

"Thoughts travel far." He answered with a sly grin. "I think we'll start at this coffee shop on The Strand and go from there."

"And what exactly do you hope to accomplish on this little venture?" She queried a few moments later, staring out across Galveston bay as they passed over the causeway.

She saw him smile out of the corner of her eye as he downshifted to slow them for the approach to Harborside, something else obviously crossing his mind before he answered. "Thought I'd get to know you since I can't do anything else with you at the moment."

"Oh? And are you going to return to the favor?"

"Of course. I wouldn't have it any other way. I'm sure you'll find me intriguing and your interest is exactly what I'm after."

She could smack him for being an arrogant prick, but he was also annoyingly right. The more he came around the more questions she had though he flat out refused to answer the one that burned the brightest. She should just sit silently until he left. The last thing she needed was to cultivate any sort of interest in him beyond how to get away from him, but she'd done that once and found herself regretting it. And he didn't seem interested in leaving no matter what she did.

He said nothing else as they passed gas stations, industrial stock yards and a half-built barge on their way to a piece of the city that had barely changed in the last century. She absently wondered if he'd seen it in its heyday before that storm she was always hearing about hit and nearly destroyed the island. When the dirty industrial streets gave way to tall brick buildings and trolley track lined roads she gave in and ended the silence.

"So, where are you from?" It was a perfectly sensible question that probably had the least sensible answer possible.

"Good question." He deftly inserted the black sports car in between a white Escalade and red Prius parallel parked against the high curb, killed the engine, and turned toward her. "Tell you what, for every question I answer I get to ask a question that you will answer. Truthfully. Deal?"

Annabelle sat there for a few minutes considering his offer. She was going to break one of those cardinal rules again, but wow what an opportunity.

"Deal."

"Egypt."

"Really? You don't sound Egyptian." Not that it should matter considering he wasn't even human. How exactly was a demon supposed to sound?

"Let's see that was about the time they were building some of their first pyramids so it's been a while." He stepped out of the car while she stared at his empty seat in disbelief. His door shut and hers opened with him standing on the street. "Coming?"

"The pyramids? That makes you..."

He stepped to the side as she started to climb out of the seat.

"Your history books place them around 3000 BC so somewhere around 5000 years old."

Five thousand years wasn't possible. Not even a little possible. There were rocks younger than this guy.

"Why did you say our 'history books'?"

"My kind doesn't tell time the way you do so it's the best guess I have." He shut the door as she walked to the curb considering the possibility that she'd gone mad and all of this was somehow happening solely in her head. She started to ask another question when he cut her off. "I think it's my turn."

She stopped and turned toward him, impatient to hear his enquiry so she could get on with hers. Five thousand years? Where the fuck would she start? He stepped to where she was and leaned close to her ear so she could feel his breath across her neck sending chills down her spine. Of course he couldn't just politely ask what her favorite color was.

"What do you think about when you pleasure yourself, Annabelle?"

She stepped back and gave him an indignant look. There was no way he was getting the answer to that. How the hell was that 'getting to know her'? When she opened her mouth to tell him as much nothing came out. She couldn't speak.

"You made a deal, love. If I answer your question you are required to answer mine."

He got the 'if' and she got the 'required'. He made sure she didn't miss that fact. Damn she'd been short sighted when she said 'yes' this time. Annabelle tried to request a more private place to answer but not even that worked. If she didn't answer she did not speak. At least the easy truce that was developing between had been upended on this one.

"You, Damien, I thought of you. Happy?"

"And before me?"

Again she was mute. Damn getting carried away with the questions. In a manner of speaking the answer was still the same. Human men had never really been that interesting to her. It was always something else. God she was a nutcase.

"I don't know. Aliens. Other things. Please don't ask me this." She put her face in her hands trying to hide her embarrassment. The emotion was unfamiliar to her. At least feeling it this strongly was. He said nothing else and when she looked up he was messing with the parking metre. It spit out a receipt a few seconds later even though he'd never inserted a card or cash.

"Coffee?"

"Yes." Annabelle answered without hesitation. Finally a question she was happy to answer. In order to avoid that happening again she would have to avoid questions altogether. Five thousand years' worth of questions. That was just...evil.

Damien led her to the front door of a rather large coffee shop with "MOD Coffee Shop" silk screened in white letters on the glass inset framed by brown wood. Off to the right at another entrance sat a man with a pretty dog and woman with an obnoxious black fur shrug drinking white wine at the café style metal tables. There was greenery, large elephant ears and pretty ferns, set everywhere.

Rough hardwood floors greeted her feet when she stepped through the door he held open for her, and the moderate tones of individuals from all walks of life chatting greeted her ears. There was a brief lull as people stopped talking momentarily to note the Adonis standing next to her before returning to their conversations. The place was amazing.

"Two coffees, please." He paid the barista who smiled to much as she set down to oversized cups of coffee, then he led her to the left where, among the clutter of memorabilia and teas for sale, sat cream and sugar any way you might want it. After customizing their beverages it was off to another part of the shop.

"Any other questions?" He asked once they'd found a pair of comfy seats situated around a little coffee table and away from everyone else in the adjoining room.

"No." Annabelle concentrated on her coffee trying to ignore the flush that graced her cheeks now. The emotion was lingering. It should be gone now.




Damien Night Ch. 03



"So there are worse things I could ask you?" He asked with a note of surprise in his voice.

"No...I..." Wait he was right. How much worse could it get than that? Still she'd been dumb to agree to it in the first place. Then an idea hit her. It was time to remind herself that he was indeed a monster. "What is the worst thing you've ever done?"

He laughed softly. "You'll have to be more specific. What's bad to one person is just good fun to another."

"You mentioned you tried necrophilia once." She continued quietly, shuddering at the thought.

"Actually it was a morgue attendant I fed on that did the necrophilia thing. The dead are of no use to me. You people have some interesting fantasies."

"Fed?" Another question. Geez, once she started she couldn't stop.

"Not in the sense your thinking."

"In what sense then?"

"Not answering."

He took a sip of coffee and she managed to refrain from asking why. If she was going to give him an arsenal to use on her the least she could do was get something useful out of it.

"Ever 'feed' on a child?" It was a tough question to ask. While she didn't generally care what happened to people, children were a different story and she didn't want to think of it. It was also a sure fire way to curtail any further interest in the creature before her.

"No. We are not allowed to interact with children in any way. Just think, everything that you might consider evil that has ever been perpetrated on an innocent being was completely and solely human."

They had rules. Who made these creatures rules? Maybe God? Did God exist? Holy shit! Damien cut her off before she could even start.

"I take it from the questions you're asking you're hoping to make me less appealing to you?"

Annabelle clamped her mouth shut, but it was a question she had to answer.

"Yes." She said reluctantly.

"Then I'll humor you." He set his cup on the little table and leaned toward her. "I once tied a woman's husband up and fucked her in front of him. Is that what you were hoping to hear?" He mentioned it like last night's weather report.

"That's horrible!" Annabelle said it loud enough for the few of the patrons to notice and look their way causing her to lower her voice. "How could you do something so awful?"

"It's what I do. Fantasies. I told you, you people have interesting fantasies. I indulge them." He smiled thoughtfully and retrieved his cup. "And yes, I enjoy it. So, did it help?"

Another question she had no choice but to answer. She wasn't really keeping track but apparently something was. Annabelle took another sip of her coffee while trying to figure out what exactly the answer was. She tried to see two people in love in that scenario, but some unruly part of her mind wanted to point out he was fulfilling a fantasy, a bizarre twisted fantasy. And then there was the fact that she never really cared much about people did she. The truth was that the information had about as much impact on her as last night's weather report. With a resigned sigh Annabelle shook her head 'no'.

"Now, ask me something you really want to know."

She fixed her dark eyes on him hoping to somehow will him to answer this time.

"What do you know about me, Damien?"

"Except that."

Frustration reared up inside her chest then broke over whatever invisible reef that kept her pinned up inside. For once she'd like to get pissed enough to beat the crap out of someone, or happy enough to laugh until she cried or wanton enough to...or anything enough. Her mind flicked to the only thing keeping Damien at bay. She could take it off. Let him have her. At least for once she'd really feel something.

"Is there a God?" Because damn she could use one right now.

Damien set his empty cup down and leaned back in the chair crossing his arms in the process.

"I actually can't answer that." He said after a moment of studying her.

"What? You're not allowed to?" That would basically be a 'yes'. Maybe she should go to church next Sunday.

"No. I don't know."

Annabelle frowned, unsure how to process his answer. Actually how could she have processed any answer? She wasn't sure she would have believed either answer anyway, but shouldn't he know? If anyone knew shouldn't he? A mess of questions vied for first out of her mouth until she reminded herself of the consequences of every question.

"I'll take that as a 'no'. I'm thinking in five thousand years you would have seen some sort of proof either way."

"Let's see, five thousand years... Your scientists have some of the dating thing down. I know this-" He stopped for a moment as if words had just eluded him, "universe- has been here a lot longer than I have so let's say the 13.75 billion years your scientists put it at is correct. Five thousand years isn't even a measurable percentage so it's safe to say there is more than one secret I've yet to discover."

"Well then God sucks." She snapped and then buried her nose in her coffee.

"That's kind of like a fruit fly saying you suck." He had that impish grin on his face and she glowered at her coffee suddenly not so interested in asking him any more questions.

Now she was being petulant. He always considered hunters emotionless, but this one displayed quite the array even if they were only momentary. It was a hunter's defence. They were 'tasteless' to his kind, or should be. It must be training she was lacking, though the natural tendencies were there. She was detached and even when her emotions flared she reined them in quickly enough. There was a chance she wasn't worth it just like she said, but once he fixated on something it was impossible to turn him aside.

"So where did you get that little thing around your neck?" Right now he should have two questions she should have no choice but to answer. Well one after this.

Annabelle smiled longingly as she touched the little pendent.

"My Gram gave it to me. She made me swear never to take it off before she died."

She obviously missed the old woman. Maybe that was the reason she did not have the same emotionless tendencies as those that came before her.

"Did she tell you why?"

"'Said it would protect me." She was shaking her head and smiling now. "I always thought she was nuts when she told me about demons. Now I'm wishing I would have paid more attention. She said there were good ones too."

"I take it you think I'm bad."

"What else am I supposed to think, Damien?"

"Take the necklace off and judge for yourself."

Annabelle snorted. 

"Coffee's done. Where to next?" Her question was overly sweet as she completely ignored his suggestion, and added another to the tally.

"La Kings, shopping, maybe I'll find a wall to pin you against. I haven't done that in a while." He smiled as Annabelle glared at him while he walked towards the exit.

"I thought you were going to play nice if I did." The smack of her shoes against her heels quickened as she moved to catch up to him.

"And I am, but I'm still here for one thing."

"Something you are never going to get." It was more to reassure herself than it was to inform him as she passed through the door he held open for her and headed for the car. The thought of his body against hers wasn't helping anything. At least he couldn't make that happen.

She wanted to go home but that only meant more walls and less people. Still she was unfamiliar with this area so she wasn't sure where else to go agitated as she was for the moment. The mood swings were killing her.

"I don't think you're completely convinced of that." His voice came from directly behind her as she came to a stop beside the Ferrari. Crap she was pinned between him and the damn car now. He had more than a little experience on her, but she felt stupid anyway.

"You know you could just chloroform me and get someone else to take the necklace off. Eureka! You get what you want and I'm fucked either way." She let acid seep into the bitterly sarcastic comment.

"Chloroform? That's a bit archaic. A ruffie cappuccino might be more appropriate. Isn't that what they do these days?" 

She felt his presence behind her diminish as he stepped back laughing, apparently amused with himself. Annabelle turned around cautiously until she could see he was far enough away that the little tricks she wasn't immune to couldn't affect her before facing him.

"Then I might take the damn thing off for you." She said with an empty smile. There was no worry it would happen. It didn't take a genius to know if he could he would. That alone should have been enough to end any fascination with him but she was just that insane. Maybe he thought humans had strange fantasies because he was only drawn to twisted fucked up women.

She stepped back, resting her body against the car, and tried to think of the things her Gram had told her; anything to give her an edge on this thing. A story shifted through the mess of thoughts about the Light and the Dark and how they lived together peacefully as they watched the world blossom beneath their ever present eyes. Eventually their Creator fashioned humans on the young planet and forgot about His first creations. While the Light was content to keep shining, the Dark became curious. It stole one of the creatures the Creator was so enamoured with and found a piece of the omnipotent being inside the human's core. She remembered Gram being baffled as to why the Dark was curious. Only souls allow questions, curiosity, and free will. The Dark should have been content to fill the spaces the Light retreated from as was its purpose, but it wasn't.

The Dark managed to hide what it had done, something only the Dark can do, but the piece of the Creator was a soul and the Dark now owned it. The Dark began to question its purpose and became jealous that the Creator should bestow such a gift on the fragile short lived creatures. There was a war between the infinite beings, but the Dark was quickly overwhelmed by the Light and the Creator. The Creator scattered the Dark across the universe, and the Light sacrificed pieces of itself to pin the Dark back away from the little planet. Annabelle smiled as she remember the old woman point at the stars and telling her in that sages voice that they were still there, still protecting us.

But the Creator was sad for his creations, and sometimes, when the pieces of the Light would fall, the Creator allowed the pieces of the Dark that would break free to return. But the creator would not relent completely. The Dark was forced to rely on the humans it was so jealous of to survive and it is forever shattered, the soul it stole belonging only to a very small corner of the once great being.

She asked her Gram why the Creator would allow the Dark to feed on humans if they were His favorite creation, and was sadly told that only half the story was known. The rest had been lost for ages. There wasn't much there, but the memory of her grandmother reciting the story helped to calm her nerves.

Damien watched her, only guessing at what her distant brown eyes were contemplating while she leaned against his little toy in silence. He had a chance to mess with her senses, weaken her resolve just that much more. Such opportunities were the reason he was wearing the stupid duster: less chance of skin to skin contact and activating that godforsaken trinket. He refrained however. Just the reminder of what close contact with him did to her seemed to be enough. Couple that with a kindness of not pouncing on her vulnerable form now and he might have her by sundown.

"I take it you want to go home." He commented, standing close enough to remind her of what he wanted, but far enough away that she could easily slip away. He was surprised when she didn't.

"Look at you, missing a chance to hump my leg. Did you suddenly grow a heart, Damien?" While the comment was condescending, she managed to play it off in a joking manner.

"No, but you just added a question." He grinned.

Annabelle rolled her eyes and inwardly cursed herself. The list of things she had to remember not to do around him kept growing. Maybe he was hoping she'd realize 'resistance is futile' and just give in. Yeah he'd of made a good Borg. Sort of, except for the killer looks and mind numbing seductive powers.

"I believe we were going to La Kings." She said quietly, pushing off the car and looking expectantly at him. She watched warily, but remained rooted in place, as he walked up to her. She barely twitched a muscle until his hand came to rest at the small of her back. Annabelle jumped, inhaling sharply, while he swept her forward. She was suddenly a school girl virgin giddy over a potential first kiss, things she hadn't felt in years, things she thought impossible to feel again, and all from a...touch. Her eyes widened with alarm.

"This way." He pronounced.

"You can touch me?" She asked in a panicked voice.

"No, just your clothes." He answered with that smile that made her knees week. "But tell me, if I could would you continue to resist me?"

'Yes' was on the tip of her tongue without thinking but hard as she tried she could not speak it causing her to come to a dead stop in the middle of the sidewalk. It wasn't the truth but what she wanted, no needed, to answer. That wasn't the parameters of the deal though. It was the truth or nothing. She would have to tell him 'no'. She was his as soon as he managed to separate her from that tiny pewter pendant. It wasn't like she hadn't known that all along, but standing here being forced to admit it she swore she could hear the hammer slamming against the final nail in her coffin. 

His hand left her back as he faced her, leaning close to her ear. "Say it, Annabelle."

The pace of her heart kicked up beneath her breast as the desire to taste him settled in with the tempting scent that was so very Damien. Damn the evolutionary fluke that gave him that advantage. She continued to stall but there was no point. She couldn't even give him the venomous answer that suddenly seethed within her. 

"Hmmm. I do love the way you fight." He whispered.

"No." she said finally, "but you might as well be drugging me. Everything about you is just that: a drug."

He stepped back shaking his head with a soft laugh, "Some people need drugs." 

"And you are probably the most expensive drug ever made."

"And maybe you get what you pay for..."

She almost asked what it would cost her, but refrained choosing instead to focus on sizzling eggs. 'This is Annabelle. This is Annabelle on Damien.' Yeah, not exactly the picture she needed.

"Ice cream."

Damien stared at her confused for a second. He wasn't expecting anything. He was good with the fact that they'd established that this was not an 'if' situation but a 'when'. Still, 'ice cream' wasn't exactly where he thought she would go.

"Isn't that what La Kings does? Ice cream?"

"Yes...and truffles. Sinful really." He said with a bemused smile as his hand found the small of back again before he ushered her down the street.

'Sinful.' Her mind repeated it, but it wasn't ice cream or truffles that spurred it.



Damien Night Ch. 04



It's all written. I will post the rest of it, about five thousand words at a time, on Fridays. It won't take long to post it all. It isn't edited. I just don't have the time or patients right now. I wanted to go ahead and get it out there so those who were interested could 'finish' the story. I won't every actually finish it here, but the portion that was start here will be finished.

*

The breeze on the strand was cool and gentle. While it was by no means autumn even though the calendar said November, the oppressive heat of summer had moved on. Many of the tourists had gone with it as well. Annabel decided she should wander these streets during the off season once in a while. She may not generally like people, but they were always interesting. In this environment she could get the best of both worlds: peace and quiet and mild entertainment. She turned to look at Damien as they strolled past clothing boutiques, novelty shops and the occasional bar blaring music and wondered if life would get back to such a normal pace that something so simple would be the whole of her day.

"Something on your mind?" He asked without actually returning the glance.

"Is our question game done? I'm thinking you got what you wanted." She was just adding to the list, but what the hell. It wasn't like she was hiding much from him for long.

"True, but why would I end it? I'm curious what else I could get you to tell me before the day is out." He turned to her and smiled then. "Or longer. I don't think there was actually a definitive end on that one."

"No. But I might be more amenable to you if I was inclined to let my guard down, and that isn't happening as long as this game continues."

"Strange. I would think you'd want any reason to keep your guard up. But you win. Game over."

Even though he had a point she still considered it a victory.

The old wooden sign hanging above them indicated they'd arrived at the next destination. The inside didn't exactly look like she thought an old soda shop would, but then this was supposed to be older than the 50's. A short flight of worn stairs led up from the street level to a sea of white thin metal tables and chairs. All around the sides were every sweet you could think of: coffee, ice cream, fudge, more candies than Annabel thought possible, and truffles. There was even a museum of sorts dedicated to the history of candy making. It was a pretty cool place, though there were a few more people than she would have liked.

"I like it. A little crowed for the off season though."

"Says the girl who enjoys going to a standing room only club on Saturday nights." Damien commented as he guided her to the soda bar on the left.

Annabel shrugged.

"I like to show off sometimes."

"At least you're honest. Drink?"

"Cherry coke. So why here?" Annabel asked still looking around the building. Had it really been that long since she'd been anywhere but work and home?

"Why not?" He said shaking his head. "I'll tell you a secret. Honestly this is the first time in some time I haven't had a plan plucked from someone's mind. I'm winging it."

Damien led them to one of the empty tables as soon as they had the hand mixed sodas they'd ordered.

"Ok, you read minds. Interesting." By this time nothing really surprised her with him, still he didn't answer the question. "But, why here?"

He took a moment, looking at her with an almost smile on his face.

"It feels good."

"Here...feels good." Annabel repeated his answer, her voice hued with doubt.

"Yes. Ice cream. Chocolate. Fudge. Laughter. It all feels good."

He was right. Even her aversion to crowds didn't overshadow the general lightness of the atmosphere. She took a drink of the coke pondering the creature in front of her.

"It's not exactly sexy though."

"Does everything you do involve food in some way, Belle?" His lips parted in an amused grin.

"No." she answered, laughing at the absurdness of the question before realizing it was her that had been a little absurd. To her it was bizarre that he would so easily equate sex with food in the nourishment sense, but it was. It had been for thousands of years. Maybe he wouldn't give her the mechanics, but somehow that was food. "I see."

"Why are you so alone?"

"I already told you." She answered scowling.

"No." He was shaking his head, no hint of subterfuge or planning just curiosity. "I know you have a phone. I stole it once. Yet in the three days I've been here I've never seen you pick it up. The only person I've seen you talk to you liked little enough to sick a possible malicious entity on her. You're alone. You are the most alone person I've ever seen. I've been around humans that retreat into the woods to live like animals but this is different. You are alone in the middle of a million people. Why?"

"What? Never met anyone like me?" Annabel quipped.

"Don't be silly. What was it? Every story under the sun has already been told. That's in the Bible or something." He mumbled the last part. "But I'm always curious regardless. You all tell the story differently."

It would have been gratifying to be the only one he'd ever met like her in 5,000 years if she was honest with herself, but that was silly. The number of people he must have met was unfathomable to her.

"I just...don't connect with people. Period. I don't understand them for the most part. And then I have no real desire to. I do like to watch them though. Sometimes I think I don't belong in this world."

Not the way you are now but there is nothing to change that. He mused to himself. The need for hunters was long past. There hadn't been an upstart from his kind since he could remember. At face value he would consider her a poor unlucky thing, but she came along for him at the perfect time. Of course humans were terrible at realizing the value in any purpose.

"If there was a rule on belonging you would probably be exactly where you belong, but since there are no rules you still are. You found me."

"Oh good my crisis of faith in the world is miraculously cured." She grumbled. "Besides you found me. I wasn't looking."

"Hmmm...if that's the way you want to see it."

Annabel was completely lost on how he could possibly think she was looking for anything like him and the trouble he represented. Several times her lips parted in an effort to rebuff the comment, but every time there was nothing to say. Because of him she had someone to talk to which, like it or not, everyone needs. Because of him she was getting a glimpse of another world and maybe the question of whether or not she belonged in this one would finally be answered. And now, because of him, who knew what was next. Still, just because someone has questions does not necessarily mean they are looking for the answers.

"On one hand I suppose five thousand years gives you the right to be so sure of yourself. On the other, you are supposed to live that long, and longer. Maybe you take longer to learn things. You've already said time goes by differently." Annabel waited for a rebuttal but Damien only nodded.

"True."

"So it does take you longer?"

"No." he laughed. "But your logic is sound. Kind of makes you wonder what a fruit fly would know if it lived as long as you."

She sighed and drew circles in the little puddle her glass made on the table.

"What is your name?" She asked after a few minutes of silence. It wasn't that the silence was uncomfortable, but sitting there without asking something given the vessel of knowledge in front of her was impossible. Besides, the name he used couldn't possibly be of Egyptian origin. Or maybe they spoke perfect English and just left all those funny pictures for humans to find eons later as a practical joke.

Damien was speechless. He dealt with his own kind so little that the idea of his own name was little more than a faded memory, but it was still there. His first reaction was to say that she would not understand. Forget lacking the proper vocal chords to produce the sound, one needed something else entirely to understand their language. Then again, technically, she was something else entirely.

"What makes you curious of so simple a thing?" He asked, still contemplating the idea of trying to legitimately answer her question.

"You may have seen every story, but I haven't. Nothing is simple when it comes to you. Besides, if I'm meeting someone for the first time the first question I ask them is not going to be 'so tell me your whole life story'. It's 'hi, I'm Annabel, what is your name?' Though you're probably going to tell me that I can't pronounce it or something."

"Actually there is no pronouncing it. We have no need for words generally. It makes any language of yours a bitch to learn."

"Even better. How exactly do you speak without words? Even if you talk telepathically or whatever you still have words don't you?"

"No. I can't even explain how we communicate." Damien looked perplexed. It was abnormal on his drool worthy features. Even with the intellectual course their conversation had been sticking to, looking to long at him had Annabel's mind drifting to a more seductive location.

"I'll just tell you. Maybe you'll get it, maybe you won't." He continued finally.

The demon, though that term was fitting him less and less, made no movements. To any onlooker the table's occupants had suddenly run out of things to talk about and were sitting quietly staring at their drinks until another topic presented itself. As difficult as it was for Annabel to grasp, the truth was exactly the opposite. She heard nothing in any context she could relate to, but knew what he said nonetheless. It was that otherworldly cinnamon and heat and breath; a feeling that was simply known, not felt. Their language was some strange form of emotions and she could understand it!

"Holy crap."

"I take it you got that."

"I don't know how. Is it common for humans to understand your language?" Annabel asked a little bewildered.

Lying: It wasn't in him. How many questions would telling her that she was the only one that had ever understood his language prompt, however? He continued pondering his answer until the girl in front of him started to wonder.

"Damien?" She might understand his language, but it wasn't something she could grasp enough to simply start using. The name he spoke to her would have to continue to suffice.

"No." He said finally. "It's not common."

"How uncommon is it?" she pressed.

Damien took a deep breath. There was no way she could become dangerous to him suddenly. Just knowing what she is wouldn't suddenly give her the powers it took years of training to develop. He had good reason to be anxious though. In the millenniums that had passed during his life; only once had he come close to losing that life. The bastard might have even been related to the raven haired young woman before him. They shared similar features. But still, lying wasn't in him.

"You're the only one." He said quietly.

"You mean I'm the only one you've ever met."

Damien frowned. The simple statement was far from the plethora of questions he was expecting.

"As far as I know, yes, you are the only one I've ever met."

"Are you going to tell me more?"

It crossed his mind. He'd spent a great deal of time and effort collecting all the information he could on the hunters and what they once were. He was sure he could answer almost every question she might have about her past. The ability to understand his language was a new one though. While he had to painstakingly collect every piece of information he had on the ancient race, she seemed to be born with knowledge on him. That wasn't really fair in his opinion. It definitely didn't sweeten the deal on giving her that information. That and it was a bargaining tip. She may have more to offer than just sating his appetite.

"No." He answered. "I never give anything up that might be of value."

For a minute she almost forgot he was heartless or soulless or maybe it didn't matter. Maybe people put too much stock in that crap. In the end didn't everyone want something?

"So it 'might' be of value. Still gauging whether you can trash or use it?"

"Not entirely." He shrugged. "I've chosen the last two destinations. Do you have a preference on the next?"

Annabel crossed her fingers beneath her chin and smiled suddenly.

"You're trying to decide if it's dangerous to you."

Damien sat in silence, a little stunned if truth be told. Regardless of the truth she knew little about, how could she think she was dangerous to him?

"Not...only." He answered with an uncertain tone.

"How could a human be dangerous to you, Damien?" Annabel pressed.

"There are many oddities in this world. Apparently even the lifetime I've endeavored thus far is not enough to see them all."

"And if I take the amulet off?"

It was stupid. It was ludicrously idiotic. Since Gram was right about the existence of these strange things then it was a good possibility she was right about dealing with them being a bad thing. Still, when you spend a lifetime alone and out of place knowing why can trump common sense and even sanity. Besides, how do you just casually ignore that you might be dangerous to something that is quite literally older than dirt...at least some dirt.

He thought about it, but it was the wrong kind of lust. He would much rather talk her out of that thing than deal her out of it. Seduction worked so much better than deals. The successful seduction created a fire like no other while a deal, even at its best, was a bland exchange. Deals were unbreakable and sex without choice held nothing of value for him; food or otherwise.

"By all means, take it off. I keep telling you won't regret it." Damien smiled amiably as he took the last drink of his soda.

"You do, but I wanted something for it."

"No, I won't trade the information so you'll remove that trinket. We do seem to be progressing a bit. I thought you were dead set on waiting in stony resilience until I got bored and loafed off." He chuckled.

Annabel suppressed the urge to smack him. According to him that would only net her more trouble in the end, and she was inclined to believe him. Now she had choices: tell him to take her home where she would end up alone with him or find another place to explore.

"I want to go to the beach." She said upon her decision at the same time derailing the now useless line of conversation. That didn't mean it was over, it was just time to find a new way around it. He might not want to be forth coming with the things he knew about her, but he was, slowly but surely, giving up pieces the longer she was with him. The beach seemed like a perfect place to get someone randomly talking. Maybe he wasn't used to that. For the moment the only other 'thing' she'd seen like him look bereft of any communication skills so it was possible he rarely talked to anyone without watching what he said.

"The beach it is then." He stood and moved toward the door, looking back to make sure she followed him.

They found the car quickly and were slipping through traffic a short time later.

"Do you guys ever get together and do the demon equivalent of having a beer?" Annabel asked as she watched the cars outside. It was barely afternoon, but this late in the season the sun lit everything with a softer touch than the harshness of summer. In just a few more hours it would start winding down and allow a chill from the cooled waters of the gulf to creep across the landscape.

"No, we are solitary for the most part. We also don't require any form of socialization." He answered sidling the car up against the seawall sidewalk and shutting it down.

"You never feel alone?"

"No."

She envied him all of a sudden. She might purposefully eschew humanity but it did not mean she did not feel alone.

"So what the hell do you do when you are not hunting?"

Damien shrugged. What did he do? Watch movies, eat junk food, read...everything. Suddenly he sounded very human. It went with the territory though. Unlike the rest of his kind he actually had to interact with them. It was bound to happen that some of them would seep into him.

"Sometimes I sit very still just to see how long I can do it." He answered finally and then got out of the car.

Wow, sounded like eternity was a blast.

"What's your longest?" She asked as he held the door open for her.

"Hmmm." His lips pressed together as he considered, and she was close enough to catch a hint of that damning sweetness. "I think I missed the roaring twenties. Shame too."

"And what's the worst thing that's ever happened to you?"

"My so many questions. When do I get a chance?" Those same lips curved upward and parted showing a flash of teeth with just the hint of sharp point on the canines. Annabel had to sharply remind herself to focus.

"Well, less than three decades versus five or so millennia. What exactly is there to ask me?"

"If you could be anything else what would it be?"

"Anything? Real or imagined? Human or not?"

"You get my point quickly." He grinned.

They walked down the steps to the shoreline near a line of granite that jutted several yards out into the surf. Theoretically it protected the shore's shape, but really it just interfered.

"A bird sometimes and just me others; except with more freedom and fewer cares."

The wind was constant but gentle and barely caressed the milky green waters. A few hundred yards out the water turned suddenly to a beautiful blue that sparkled in the sun's presence when it twisted subtly this way or that. Closer in she watched a clearer version of this ocean slip up the very gentle slope of sand that constituted the beach and then retreat in a rhythm all its own. She definitely needed to find her way down here more often.

"You know I could do that." Damien commented as he watched her.

Annabel just laughed and did not bother commenting, but damn it was tempting.

"Anything else?" She asked even though a thousand questions still vied for first answer in her head.

"Yes. Tell me about your first time." He said thoughtfully.

"I'm assuming you mean sex. Why does it always have to be that?" She frowned.

"We all have our way of looking at the world. I could ask you your favorite music which is an extremely viable question. Music has a way of manipulating the flow of everything inside and outside of the universe. That's not exactly the filter I look through though. I have to hunt. A large portion of my very extensive life is wrapped up in what I require for nourishment. So, while not every portion of my thought concentrates on sex, it does flavor pretty much everything I do. I know food may not be as important to you, but it does color the way you see other people does it not?"

It made sense. People who ate caviar came across as uppity and people who ate pig's feet...well she worried about them.

"It was...uneventful."

"Uneventful...or disappointing?" A dirty blond eyebrow arched over one of those bewitching green eyes. The sun made them more like cut emeralds than the strange iridescent fire that greeted her that first night.

Annabel smiled and shook her head. She'd never told anyone about that awkward moment.

"I was young. Full of lust."

"Hmmm...something youth does abound in."

"I thought I was in love. My heart was racing, my mouth was dry, and then...nothing. It wasn't the pain or the lack of skill, though there was definitely lack of skill..." She blushed and sighed softly to herself. "It was just that everything stopped. It was no different than talking to someone for information. It was the same way the few times I took the chance to go that far later. So what does that say about me, Damien?" She cocked her head at him waiting for some seduction routine.

"A lot," was all he said as they continued down the shore line.




Damien Night Ch. 04



Something changed in the wind, then. Somehow the world darkened even though the sun still shown very bright in a light blue sky graced with an occasional stroke of puffy white. The seagull's cries were muffled and the dissonance she had nearly forgotten as she chatted with Damien double itself. She looked around not sure what to expect and caught the ever present creature watching her.

"What the fuck is that, Damien." She hissed, unnerved that this new source of discomfort had not yet presented itself.

"Well. We may not care to congregate, but we do get...curious." He answered, watching intently as he stepped away from her.

While the rest of the world continued around them, they stopped in their own little island of space and time. A man, or the semblance of one, materialized standing eye to eye with her now with his black robed head cocked to one side. That black hair hung haphazardly down thickly corded back and shoulders of blue skin. His face was long with dark brows that pointed over blue holes where his eyes should have been. That was not the most disconcerting part of the creature before her. The blue skin was marred with wounds that had not healed but did not bleed, and he moved in a stuttered manner as though the camera that captured him had only caught a few frames at a time. It was clear he did not fucking belong here. Annabel wanted to scream at him to go back where he came from, but she could not find the voice to do so as it stared at her with those soulless openings that posed as eyes.

Then it spoke in that language only Damien's kind could claim: emotion tinged with pain. Curiosity and questioning barraged Damien as the being continued to watch her; all laced with pain that she, thankfully, could not feel. Dear God she did not want a damn thing to do with it. What the fuck was it?

"Annabel meet Lash." Damien seemed very amused with himself as he spoke. She did not want to meet anything he knew, least of all this thing, but what one wants and what one gets often are two very different things.

"You know I was almost starting to forget that there was something wrong with you at the fundamental level." She leveled the words at Damien, barely finding her voice as she edged away from the oddly moving Lash. The question of taste aimed at Damien spurred an increase in that distance.

"Consider it a favor that I don't let you forget?" His latent amusement turned to soft laughter as he continued.

Lash was suddenly right next to her, looking at her in a way that was neither human nor animal. Obviously Damien was a different breed altogether. Annabel closed her eyes and fought back tears knowing it meant to touch her; to feed off of her in a way that she would never forget no matter how hard she tried and there was no way to escape it. In the silence that pressed against her until she could not breathe nothing happened until a strange strangled cry shook her so bad that she started to sob uncontrollably.

"What the fuck?!" The razor thin words cut through the air making her skin crawl. The words seemed alien to the voice that conjured them, but it wanted her to hear them.

"She has a bit of a bite doesn't she?" Damien laughed.

A wave of anger flowed from the prone blue-skinned man as he struggled to right himself. The wounds in his skin bled now, an ethereal green slipping down the pale blue skin. The words had been for her benefit. Just like Damien two nights ago, he thought she'd done it on purpose, but she had little idea what she'd done. It reinforced her drive to make sure she never took that damn amulet off.

"I apologize, my friend, I had no clue she would hurt you." Doubt exploded through the air and it was more than just a word in their bizarre langue; Annabel could actually feel it this time. "Here, accept this as a token of my sincerity."

Damien tossed an obsidian ink vial at his 'friend' who now looked somewhat recovered, the strange green blood drifting off in a haze that dissipated inches from its form. He fumbled with it for a few moments, finally opening the cork, and smiled strangely. His face split like a knife sliced open untouched skin. He had lips and smiled but the effect was unnerving to Annabel, who was still recovering herself. When the blue form shimmered and disappeared she could not have been happier.

"LEAVE ME ALONE!" She screamed when she found her voice.

"There is nothing to be done now. My kind knows of your existence. They will find you regardless of whether I am here or not." Damien answered solemnly.

"But you did nothing to stop him." She answered in a low threatening voice even though she posed no threat she could think of to him.

"I just wanted to know."

"WHAT?!"

"If I was the only one you could hurt."

Annabel took a deep breath. Even though she was terrified he just proved something amazing to her: he wasn't the only one that couldn't touch her. She was immune to all of their seedy disturbing desires.

"And now you know."

Damien nodded giving nothing away as to what he thought about the interlude.

"What was the vial?" Annabel asked after she'd given herself a few moments to breathe though her voice remained shaky and small.

"I'm a collector. I gave him a piece of my collection." He answered, thinking it best to be straight forward with her right now.

"And what do you collect?"

"Emotions." Damien thought backwards to the moment he collected the vial he'd tossed at Lash to appease him. Most of the time he sold the collections, but he didn't want a fight on his hands. It was rare he found one he could take so completely so the vial represented a large sacrifice for him. "I gave him pain; something he feeds off of."

"So you just, what, skim the surface of someone in pain and put it into some super-secret squirrel bottle?"

He chuckled lightly at her odd comparison. "It's a bit more complicated than that. I suppose you would refer to it as magic. And there is no 'skimming the surface', I have to take it all."

"All of it? As in they can't feel that anymore?"

"Precisely." He watched her process the information, her nose wrinkling, still trembling. Lash had been a real mood killer. Insatiable curiosity could be a bitch sometimes.

"So you took someone's pain?" Annabel asked in confusion. No more pain; would that be a good thing or a bad thing?

"Yes. A woman watching her child die of brain cancer. I've rarely seen a greater pain." He said quietly.

She had nothing to say. There was nothing she could even imagine like that. Annabel had never been close to a child, but she did not doubt that there were few greater pains.

"So you help people."

"No. True she held her child with a strength she had not known, but the pain was of use to me. Normally I would have traded it. Something like that could feed one of us for years."

Annabel shook her head in confusion.

"Traded it for what?"

"Oh, whatever I want." He smiled at her, a dark smile. She would compare it to the wolf smiling at the rabbit, but that's not quite right. The rabbit would never want anything the wolf had to offer; rending flesh and pain before a final scream. This wolf, however, offered something most women only read about. She shook her head silently commanding her heart to calm while convincing herself it was the residual fear of this newest horrifying experience with her twisted tour guide. That was it. Horror was all he had to offer.

"Then why just give it him?" She asked, looking at a horizon that seemed to grow brighter the way it did when the sun rose even though the sun had been up for several hours already.

"Good customer service policy." He shrugged. "A few years are nothing, and now he knows where to get it from."

The world returned to normal. There was the shrill heartbeat of the seagull's shriek overhead and the sound of beach goers above the gentle rush and ebb of the waves now. The sun was as bright as it should be and the world was as close as it was before.

"How do you get that? How do you take an emotion from someone?" She asked while trying to process this new upheaval.

"Everything speaks a language. All you have to do is know how to ask." He answered nonchalantly as if it was the most normal thing in thing in the world.

She wanted to tell him he couldn't do that, that you couldn't fuck with people like that or that it went against the laws of science, but he kind of blew science out the window a few days ago.

"Sounds like some Native American stuff I read about or something." She nearly mumbled.

Damien grinned, thinking better of saying that with all their technological advancements they didn't know shit about anything...else. Oh humans had gone a long way to figure out this world, which narrow-mindedness is always good for, but their ancestors had the blessing and curse of seeing a bit farther than they could. Everything has its good and bad side.

"Like I said; every story has been told." He shrugged; then frowned. Maybe he relied on being able to read minds too much. The flow kept breaking which he found a bit frustrating. She still looked shaken too, but that was a given. Lash would make any human a little sideways and she was handling it better than most. There was no plan here though. Without a roadmap of all the shit she'd never tell anyone he was at a loss. Still, she was a first for him. Even if he didn't get that stupid little trinket off her, though there was no doubt he would, she was definitely entertaining.

"Take me home, Damien." Annabel spoke with a bit of force. She'd obviously had enough, and they'd been having such a nice conversation before that little blue demon showed up. He wasn't really upset though. He still wasn't exactly sure whether he wanted to fuck her or if he was having enough fun just fucking with her.

"Your wish is my command." He bowed and pointed to the black Ferrari down the beach behind them with a flourish.

"No it's not, or you would leave." She nearly growled before turning to walking quickly towards the car.

"Now, let's not get crazy. Lash isn't the most palatable creature, but we were having an easy enough time of it before he showed up." His voice drifted off as he slipped through places she could not see or follow to wait at the car.

"Then I should thank him." She bit out when she reached him.

"Really? I can call him back I'm sure. We hear gratitude so little. I'm sure it would do his heart good." He opened the door for her.

"What heart." She muttered, taking a seat on the soft leather.

The ride back was tense silence and he found himself suddenly missing the somewhat easy conversation they'd had on the beach. It was strange; something he never dreamed would be an issue. Of course, he'd been inside of enough humans it was inevitable that some of them might get inside him. He frowned realizing that thought was starting to get a bit recurring.

"I'm sorry about Lash." He said suddenly before she could get the door open in front of her apartment. "I'm curious. It's one of the things that keeps me going, but I'm also sad our little interlude ended so completely."

Annabel stared at him with one of those looks that suggested he'd just grown a third eye. Then she paled somewhat and exited the car without saying a word. It wasn't meant to throw her. He was being sincere, but he knew that look; some of the resolve that she'd managed to keep safely from him just wavered. Damien smiled as he put the car in drive. 



Damien Night Ch. 05



Annabel retreated to the limited sanctuary of her apartment, tossing her purse on a table and flopping down onto the worn brown couch. The encounter with the creature at the shore still had her shaken, but she was counting on that. Gram said to never deal with these creatures, and you don't go finding out the amulet someone gave you has magical powers and then just discount the rest of what they said. Lash, or whatever the hell it was, gave her an edge against him. All she needed to do was concentrate on how incomprehensible it felt to be near Lash and remember that Damien was the same no matter how human he passed for.

But it felt so good to just talk. Not only talk, but not have to wonder. She knew what he wanted and really didn't give a shit what he thought. And he was fascinating. You would have to be dead not to think that. Annabel may act dead, but she wasn't. Then he said that. She could tell a liar, and he wasn't lying. He wasn't even bending the truth. He was honestly regretful that their little conversation stopped. Her lonely heart wanted to translate that into reciprocated feelings. Jesus she was stupid.

She looked around the little room. Other than the couch on the beige carpet there was a TV on a little stand, a bookshelf full of books and movies, and a table by the door. The white vertical blinds across the sliding glass door moved slowly in the breeze from the AC letting the sunlight play across the dimly lit room. The white walls were naked. Maybe this was what drew him to her. She certainly made herself an easy target. Something she would need to fix as soon as she figured out how to get rid of him. But then she'd been trying to figure out how to do that for the past three days. Nothing had worked, and in the end it wouldn't. 

She wanted him to stay.

Pulling her knees to her chest Annabel looked at the blank television and tried to think of the last person that she had let into her life. If there was someone she could call, someone to stay with her, then maybe she could circumvent this very definite tragedy that her lonely heart was leading her headlong into. 

There was no one.

It was a strange realization how fast time could slip by when you let yourself get swallowed up by a routine of doing nothing more than going through the motions of living. There had to be more. Resolve set in. 

Tomorrow she opened with her annoying boss, the one with the short hair that she was kind of upset Damien didn't make a permanent meal of. In retrospect it was possible that it was for the good of humanity that she'd managed to become a hermit in the middle of one of the largest metropolitan areas in the country. She laughed at herself and continued planning. Hopefully he wouldn't show back up tonight, which didn't seem to be part of his modus operandi, and she would have time to get ready for him tomorrow.

The remainder of the evening passed uneventfully, just like the rest of her life had previous to Saturday night.

***

Damien did not venture out find her at the book store. He'd spent entirely too much time with her during the day honestly. While he did not necessarily need the night to accomplish his goals, it helped. There were errands to run. One of the drawbacks to living amongst the inhabitants of this world was that he had to do things like pay rent.

When night fell he chose the front door to her little abode. It just seemed the better route given how some of the events of yesterday had played out. He knocked gently and waited a few minutes. She had that shimmery black hair pulled back so it fell in a straight line to her ass. He knew he could touch it now, but every time he did one thing it only lead to wanting more and he didn't want to risk that. He'd gone as far as he was willing given the consequences he faced. The surprised frown on her face was interesting.

"Damien. Since when do you use the front door?" Annabel stepped aside and motioned for him to enter.

"I thought you might like a break from my kind's antics. Any more visits?" He asked looking around not really sure what he meant to do here. He didn't have a goal. It was hard to form one when you were so used to knowing someone's actions and desires before even they did. It was possible he didn't have one besides more of her company. He enjoyed her questions.

"No, thankfully." She answered with a smile. She seemed happy to see him actually. "I didn't see you at the store. Changing your routine?"

Damien shook his head wondering at her behavior. It definitely wasn't what he was used to.

"Errands. All these lovely things I can do in your world and I still have to pay the rent." He chuckled. "Besides, 3 days isn't a routine."

"Right." She said with a half-smile. "Wait, how do you get money?"

"I take it you haven't noticed walls really aren't an issue for me." 

"Whatever. Do you eat...human food? I made nachos." Her voice was almost sing-song as she spoke to him on the way to the kitchen. He could smell it now, melted cheese and salsa and whatever else she put on them. It was perfectly heavenly.

"Yes." Now all she needed to do was cue up some Disney flick and he'd start thinking he'd suddenly found the ability to fall in love.

"I thought so, but I wasn't sure." 

He watched her open the oven and carefully remove the tray of little delights wondering what the hell she was planning. If she meant to surprise him she was silly. 

"Need any help?" He asked finally, deciding to let her play whatever game it was she was at.

"No." She turned to the counter opposite the oven, not even really having to step, in order to set the hot tray down on one of her little wine and grapes decorated pot holders. "I was thinking we'd watch the new Evil Dead."

The little smile she threw back at him had a hint of the sarcasm he was used to...and the movie. It was something about demons and 'the most terrifying film you will ever experience'. So she wasn't going to let the entire night slide without a little jab. So much for love conquering all.

"Not much into horror." He sank down into the couch and draped an arm over the back so he could watch her drop sour onto each little mounded snack. "It's lost on me I suppose. The nachos, however..."

"So, no to horror, but yes to junk food." Annabel laughed. "I have a few things in the bookshelf over there. Why don't you pick something out since you're the guest?"

Damien walked over to the dark cherry wood bookshelf curious if it would lend him any help tonight. Oddly he needed it. Glancing down he noted the row of DVD cases on the last row of the shelf, but something else drew his attention.

It was no surprise she was a reader. All humans find company wherever and however they can whether they want to admit it or not. There were a few romance novels that looked to have darker tones to them and some philosophers, both current and classical, but one book bound in leather that sorely needed tending to made him stop and stare. It was old, but he didn't need to look at the yellowed pages, cracking bindings or the block letters indicative of the printing presses of the time to know just how old. He didn't need to see the publication date or the fact it was a first -- and only -- edition to know just how rare and how strange it was to see such a thing here in this unassuming place with this girl who had never actually lived...at least not like the man that wrote that book.

He grabbed the edges of the binding between his finger tips and slowly started to slide it out of the space it occupied.

"Don't touch that!"

He turned a little startled at Annabel's demand.

"I'm sorry," She amended, shaking her head, "it's just that it's really old, I'm not sure the glue will hold."

"I know. Where did you get it?" He'd taken the book anyway and held it in front of him as he questioned her.

The writer sucked. Poor guy, but that was the honest truth. The 200 copies the man had spent his savings to publish in the early 1800's ended up wiping someone's ass most likely, except for a few. An ingenious idea about a gentleman writing an unbelievable story told to him by a supernatural being. Apparently someone used the same idea and hit it big in the middle part of the last century, but Jonathan Blythe had fallen out of the literary rat race without even a squeak. Even this dark haired siren hadn't read it, or there would have been a little more recognition in her eyes.

"My Grandmother's grandfather wrote it apparently. I tried to read it once but it was kind of...awful." She sighed sadly, obviously feeling bad for a man she'd never met. "I never threw it away because...well it's old. Even if it was not exactly readable it's still amazing it survived this long."

Annabel walked over to the couch and set the cookie sheet carrying the nachos on the center of the three cushions that lined the seat of the couch.

"Especially considering how bad it was." Damien couldn't help but laugh remembering the finished product of his little experiment. 

"You've read it?" She asked. From the look on her face he guessed she knew the short and dirty history of the book.

"What are the odds?" He was only half speaking to her as he ran his thumb across the uneven amber edges of the paper, but he addressed her directly the next moment. "I'm the reason your ancestor wrote it."

He watched her eyes, oddly almond shaped with the hint of an ability to cut like a knife or make you melt and fall into them, move from him to the book and back. 

"So...you...like men too?" She asked finally.

Damien laughed for a minute before answering. Of all the questions she could have asked, that was the first to come to mind. The fact that the odds were completely against him hanging out with her Great-Great-Great-Grandfather two hundred years ago and then running into her in a club in a completely differently country seemed so much more interesting, but...c'est la vie. 

"I imagine you are intending on following that up with a nervous 'oh, that's okay' or something." He fixed her with his most unnerving stare which was probably a little unfair.

"Uh...no...I mean..." He watched her gaze dart towards a few random objects as she shifted nervously. It was generally entertaining what made someone uncomfortable.

"No, Annabel, even though the answer to that isn't exactly correct. I don't care one way or the other, but men offer no satisfaction to me. The...energy is different." He stumbled there, not quite sure how to put things like this into the limitations of the human world. "It would be like you trying to live off of hay."

Damien turned around to put the book back.

"Why did he write it about you then?"

The question halted his action as he'd already dismissed the little reminiscing there was to be had there. It was just one thing in a list of thousands. He existed. He did not collect memories or moments the way the creatures he preyed on did. Still, it always came back to him unlike most of the cobble stone points in his reality. Now he was strangely eager to relate it to her.

"He saw me leaning against a light post. I always liked the way the oil smelled when it burned."

Annabel sat down on the couch with a confused frown, pulling the length of jet black hair over her shoulder and letting it fall between her slightly parted thighs. Of course it wouldn't seem odd to her that some random stranger saw him. Damien pulled an arbitrary movie from the bottom shelf and moved towards her with the thin case in hand. He could make things turn on and off with his mind, but damned if he could actually physically operate anything. First he had a story to tell.

"I wasn't exactly looking to be seen. I suppose the sensitivity you possess runs in your family." He half smiled thinking of him now. He was like her; young with jet black hair cut shorter to match the style of the day. And the sideburns, which fit the slender man well, would not have done her quite the same justice. They had the same dark eyes. Thinking about it now he wondered why he hadn't made the connection sooner. "It was raining and the streets were muddy and rutted with carriage tracks. I let him look twice just to be sure he'd indeed seen me, and then I left."

Damien stopped there, sitting down on the remaining cushion adjacent to the tray of nachos and handing her the movie. He was going over the rest of the details, trying to shorten it. The two had ended up spending years together before John died of the White Plague in Edinburg. He was an accountant with the heart of a scientist and it was the one and only time Damien had ever done anything without a deal. Blame it on a change of pace or the insatiable curiosity that went with being who he was; whatever it was it happened. He told John nearly everything, and it was all there in that little book.

"And that's it? He wrote an entire book because he thought he saw you." Annabel's sarcasm broke into his silent revelry.

"No. It was barely the beginning." John never flinched, not once. There was no fear when he'd shown up in his bedroom that following night. His was the only curiosity that had ever matched Damien's. "We met face to face remarkably the same way you and I met, though my intentions were...different."

"You mean you don't know why you sought him out."

"No." Damien watched her for a moment. Her intuition was better than her ancestors, but then John was consumed with a desire for knowledge. Annabel was...just...lost. "No, I don't know, but we became companions for nearly ten years after that. I often entertained his wife, or she entertained me, when John was otherwise engrossed." Damien smiled then, ignoring Annabel's momentary look of distaste. He debated telling her that John was perfectly complacent in the arrangement for her benefit. The man cared little for marriage. He was a ball of logic and reason. It was amazing he'd even managed to get the poor girl pregnant.

"There's not a chance that..." Her eyes widened suddenly and he took a moment to decide on their color while simultaneously completely entertained by her train of thought. 

"No, girl." His amusement was evident as he answered her. "We don't procreate; one of the many benefits of a night, or two, with me. The thought doesn't intrigue you a little, though?"

"No."

"Good to know then." There wasn't even a hint of interest in that answer, though it didn't surprise him. She'd already given up her kinkiest secrets it seemed, but it didn't hurt to double check. She was mostly plain.

"So you two gallivanted where ever and you defiled my great-great-great-great grandmother. This doesn't explain the reason he wrote a book." 

Her eyebrows had come together in an irritated frown while she fixed him with those dark eyes. They were nearly black to the point you could not see her pupils. It was interesting. Humans didn't normally have such coloring. He suddenly thought of the hunter that tried to kill him. His were dark too. Maybe it was something that went with their calling.

"He wrote a book because I answered every question he asked."

Annabel's eyes cut back to the book with a renewed interest. He knew what she was thinking, but that wasn't there. Hunters were much, much older. They were relics of long forgotten wars that had never crossed the pages of history. There were retellings with a tribal spin if you knew where to look, but that didn't exactly say what had happened. 

"And you weren't worried about being discovered or something?" 

"Annabel, what exactly would someone do to me if I was discovered? Honestly, this isn't some wild flight of fancy. Real things are real, and easily ignored. People have indisputable evidence of everything, but unless you can capture, dissect it, and, above all, sell it...it doesn't exist. I cannot be captured by any means you are aware of, and there is nothing to dissect, technically, so there is nothing to sell. Basically I can do whatever I want."

"Really? You don't think it would make some crazy waves or something?"

"Do you think we are bound by some pact to stick to the shadows? People would respond to me saying I was an entity from a different plain of existence the same way they would respond to you."

"But I believe you. If enough..."

"No one cares what one person...or even a few people believe. It's what the masses believe. For everyone else its 'here have another Prozac.' Trust me. I've done this a little while."

He watched her laugh realizing he was right.

"And the masses are easily led."

"Indeed." Damien grabbed a nacho.

"So why not try and take over the world or something?" She followed his lead on the nachos and started looking at the movie he'd picked.

Damien shrugged as he chewed thoughtfully. "My needs do not require world domination. We never stretch beyond needs. That is a purely human trait." He sought another chip, but stopped just before taking a bite. "Well, rarely do we stretch beyond our needs."

"So it's happened?" Her body tilted forward in interest and suddenly he didn't want to answer any more questions.

"The best and the worst of everything has happened before. What movie are we watching?"

"Leaving it to fate?" The way her lips curved just shy of a smile and those dark eyes flashed. Why the hell was she flirting with him?

"I suppose."

"You picked Star Trek, the new one, which happens to be a favorite of mine. Kind of have a thing for Chris Pine." She grinned.

Damien eyed the movie jacket and shifted his form, just to see what she would do. She started to stand to tend to the movie, caught a glimpse of him out of corner of her eye, and visibly jumped.

"Really?" She stammered a little breathless.

"Well you said you had a thing for him." He flashed that grin that seemed to catch her off guard.

"First. He has blue eyes, and second you just seem desperate now."

Damien nodded defeat and changed back to the blond haired, green eyed Calvin Klein model he preferred, stroking the goatee as he shook his head.

"You have officially wounded me. I think I'll just retreat to the corner of the couch and enjoy the movie." He was chuckling obviously unfazed by her unfortunate response.

She stood, moving the tray of nachos to the floor before heading to the little TV stand. When she returned it wasn't to her seat, but directly in front of him. The movie started behind her, but she was completely focused on him.

"What is it you want?" she asked, her chest rising and falling faster than she wanted he was sure.

Damien draped each arm across the back of the couch like wings, and sat there watching her with his head cocked to the side.

"I think I've been perfectly plain on that note." He answered slowly.

She moved forward, her knees parting to either of his and he forced himself not to flinch. As long as he did not touch her skin he was fine, but it did not matter. The kind of pain she inflicted as she was now went deeper than any he'd ever known; to his soul if he'd had one he guessed.

"No, you haven't been." She retorted in a soft breath, dropping down so her thighs rested on either side of his leaving her on her knees in front of him. 

She was trembling and that first breath so close to him only made that more pronounced. The flush across her chest above the black top with the satin that tightened below her breasts added to just how delicious she looked at that moment. Stark naked need hit him almost as hard as that first punishing jolt he'd experienced the night he met her. He felt thin and too light, like he might disappear at any moment, and his cock hardened instantly beneath her. 

Shit!

He was starving; his version of it anyway. If he couldn't get this girl to cave he would have to find another source of nourishment. That didn't mean he had to end their little tryst, but it wouldn't be nearly as sweet. He managed to continue to watch her with detached curiosity; the stiffness between her thighs the only indication she'd had any effect on him. 




Damien Night Ch. 05



"Is this what you want?" she whispered.

Her hips rocked forward so he was sure she could feel his entire length against those sensitive spots he so wanted to taste. Her breath became uneven and ragged, but her hands remained at her side to ensure they did not touch while her eyes remained unerringly focused on him.

"Something like that." He gripped the back of the couch a little harder sternly reminding himself of the unsavory result that came of touching her.

"It's not happening, Damien." The words were forced, almost a hiss though more the result of the will she was exerting now than anger or disdain.

"Is that what you're trying to prove now, because I'll give you a little hint: it's not very convincing." He flashed those slightly pointed canines of his and she broke eye contact for a minute.

He was amazed at the forced sound of his own words. The girl had really managed to get to him.

"It's just a feeling, Damien. I've controlled them before and I'll not be some hole you warm your cock in...or any other ill intention you may have toward me."

There was a spark in her eye that he'd only seen in a human with a first taste of real power. She may have been fighting him, but some part of her was enjoying it. That didn't help at all.

"Ah, you think I just want stick my dick in your pussy, pump my hips a couple of times, and then leave you in a pool of my cum reveling in my most recent conquest as I move on to the next?" He raised an eyebrow with the question and watched her wrinkle her nose in distaste at his base language.

"You can pretty it up all you want, which I'm sure you'll try to, but that probably sums it up."

Damien leaned closer to her, placing his hands on her jean clad thighs. He felt her muscles twitch and tighten down on him when she jumped.

"Not even close." He whispered. "What I want is the way your body trembles as you fight your desire, how much you want to kiss me right now, the speed of your heart so close to something forbidden...and what I need is the moment you give in." He strengthened his grip as he spoke, pulling her closer until her chest rested against his and ignoring that little voice screaming 'DANGER' in his mind. If he could get his hand on whoever designed that fucking trinket he'd take out every ounce of frustration he currently felt on them.

Her lips were only inches away now. If he could have closed the distance he had no doubt her body would melt into his; the electricity of that first kiss just an appetizer for decadent moments to come.

He could no longer feel the heat of her breath, but he could hear her heart racing. Her lips, a soft warm pink, were parted slightly; an open invitation to his tongue that he could not take advantage of. Some part of him wondered if this was something like the hell humans so often spoke of. He would have given nearly anything to take her, feel her submit to the powerful desire growing within her, taste her surrender.

Damien dared not move a muscle knowing giving into any desire he had at the moment would only result in killing the mood. She had to give into hers. He watched intently as her finger tips brushed the metal medallion resting at just the point where the hard surface of her chest gave way to the rise of full breasts, taunting him. She was still forgetting to breathe, black lashes resting against the pale high bones of her cheeks as her eyes fell closed, and Damien smiled with the certainty that her little plan to prove to him he could not have her had completely backfired.

"Just once, Annabel, let yourself feel." He whispered leaning closer to her, the thought of the danger she posed to him slowly being clouded over completely by his hunger. 

***

She was screwed...which would shortly be literally. The feel of him so close to her, rock hard and hungry on a level she'd never known. Her body responded to that need with its own, his otherworldly scent searing her senses until there was nothing but wonton heat. Funny how it wasn't the stiff length of his cock resting against her thigh that tipped the scaled, but the thrill she'd gotten from power she had over him at this moment. The sound of his voice was nearly as tense as hers.

She'd closed her eyes a small part of her guilty that she'd failed to keep her promise, but that was a dim echo in a faraway life compared to the way her heart raced at the first time touched feeling she fought now, but there was no fighting. This time with this creature it would drown her the way it failed to do with the few men who'd come before him.

And then she remembered to breath.

The fire that stormed inside her died as if it had been extinguished by the sudden rush of air into her lungs. The rapid pace of her heart slowed further with every subsequent breath and the tangled thoughts in her mind cleared. Even Damien's scent, so seductively alluring, became nothing more than ambient atmosphere.

Something in her had gone cold too. She fought back the frustration that tightened around her chest; convincing herself it was for the best. It did not matter that this happened again, that she was so fucked up that she could not allow herself to feel too much. Damien wasn't human.

The world around her softened. Even Damien's firm temptation dissipated between thighs that no longer ached; no longer felt. Annabel's eyes snapped open to find the fiery glint of Damien's stare dimmed and frozen.

Confusion clouded her mind in a new fog. The need to jump up in fear of hurting the creature before her clashed with a twinge of excitement that wanted to see this through; push it further. They were not touching, but Damien, and all his carnal power, had diminished and she had something to do with it.

"Damien?" She whispered widening the distance between them as she scooted back along his thighs until her feet nearly touched the ground again.

"The fuck?!" He moved suddenly like someone had just pushed play on the VCR, no blue ray. He may not be a real boy but he was definitely high definition. The shock in his face was more patent than any she'd ever seen or imagined. It made her first encounter with him seem like a day at the DMV.

"What did I do?" Eyes wide, she moved no further. How the fuck do you do something and not know it? How the hell could she do it again? This wasn't a measure of control, it was absolute and she was all for it; the stupid concern she had somehow developed for him could go jump off a cliff.

"Nothing. Get off!" Damien growled, the tempting whisper from only moments ago replaced with seething anger. His hands were up though still closer to his body than hers, fingers splayed, the urge to grab her and toss her off barely kept in check.

"No." She answered sharply.

His scent was starting to wreak havoc on her senses again while she desperately tried to find that moment where time had slowed. Cold as it was the momentary power she had was more seductive than almost everything Damien had thrown at her.

"Don't, Belle. Don't go there. There's no coming back from that." 

The anger in his voice evaporated, replaced with a plea. He obviously meant it for her but god dammit she was going to know better.

"For whom?" There was no venom, just a pointed question. According to the creature in front of her he never lied. It was time to prove it.

"It's cold isn't it?" The questioned sounded confused; almost far away as he looked around the room for...something. "That cold means I can't have you, but no one else will either. Ever." His eyes met hers on the final word.

"Where the fuck is 'there', Damien?" She asked, eyes narrowing as she met him; gaze for gaze. He fought answering her questions hook tooth and nail, but pieces fell into place anyway. She held no hope he would answer this question either, but she knew more regardless.

"Get up and I swear I will never trouble you again." 

He could have stood at any time and sent her tumbling, but in the confusion she might have touched him. She had him by the balls so to speak.

"No. Answer me, Damien." She pressed, risking the fact that she might actually have an advantage here.

"Get up now or you'll regret it, I promise." He amended with a deadly seriousness.

She concentrated on her heartbeat, trying to recreate the moment when Damien went from confident predator to nervous prey. It was a huge risk. Honestly she had no clue what she did to him or how.

"Emotion! You control it." He barked suddenly, a tremor in that normally smooth knowing voice of his. "And, hey, you are what you eat." He added humorlessly.

She opened eyes and looked at him for a moment. She'd given up her chance to be rid of him, and his answer didn't really make sense. Only stupid people didn't control their emotions, but he didn't mean her emotions. 

Annabel stood slowly, her mind no longer here or caring about him, but wandering backwards to little moments in her life that stood out as strange. Moments when she managed to make things happen, change the course of things, in ways that they shouldn't. She barely noticed Damien disappear the second she broke contact with him.



Damien Night Ch. 06



I'm going to try to fix the next scene this week and post it. No guarantees. My life is so chaotic right now it's hard to find time to breath. If I don't fix it this week than I will just go ahead and post the rest of the story next weekend. 

"The first draft of anything is shit."
― Ernest Hemingway



Damien lay perfectly still on the soft down comforter of his bed, a flawlessly preserved body in an elaborate mausoleum. The black lacquer of the enormous four posters stood out starkly against the prevailing snowy white. The contrast nearly smacked you in the face the moment you topped the stairs and Damien liked it that way. There were a few other black accents in frames on the wall and the end tables, but it did little to mute the effect. 

Anyone walking in on him right now would be sure he was dead or a movie prop. He did not breath, he had no heartbeat, and he had no wish to pretend to be anything more than what he was at the moment. 

He considered the last instants with Annabel. He could still smell the sweet perfume of her arousal, could still feel the heat from her core against his hungry cock. Jesus! She was his, and then everything went to hell. The cold that crept over him reminded him of that bastard in another time that felt the need to end his existence for no particular reason. The world turned to the consistency of goo and something coursed through him, an invasive invisible force stealing the ability to move, icing his insides as it moved through him. It wasn't the dark skinned priest from another culture long dead, but her...his siren. Apparently the ability to control other emotions, ergo the ability to control him, was gained naturally...at least in her case. 

"Fuck!" He said the word out loud, enjoying the feel of it on his tongue. He always loved the curse words of any culture he latched onto. Technically he'd panicked which was different for him; though 'panic' wasn't exactly the right word. There was no racing heart or fast pace breath or cloudy thought process in which he did something thoughtlessly stupid. It was more of an overwhelming sense of self-preservation leading him to believe that giving into her at that moment was the best option.

It was time to give this chase up which killed him just a little bit. Curiosity, desire and the things denied were the very basis of sustenance for him. She could actually kill him though, which put a damper on the appetite.

Actually that last bit was only technically true. She was still missing one thing.

His eyes opened and flicked to the closet door. It was almost another room unto itself like the bathroom it sat next to. He rarely went in it though. It wasn't for clothes. A trick of the mind and he had any clothes he wanted. Shoes were moot as well. If he needed something more he had another world entirely to store shit in. But there were...things. As far as he knew he was the only one of his kind that had a certain propensity towards being a packrat. When you don't really belong in the world you roam around in it's not a very good idea to make a permanent residence there. 

He did though. The leftovers of every life he'd lived, every lair he'd kept here, were set neatly in that closet. There were scrolls and books, odds and ends, and hundreds of small black vials labeled in a language no one in this world knew anymore. And, almost every item there was a relic from a civilization that no longer existed; destroyed in such a way that one would think it was done on purpose if you delved into the similarities between them. Nothing was left behind save what he had taken.

It was not locked, as far as anyone knew, but he wasn't stupid enough to lock it with conventional means. The door wouldn't open for anyone that didn't ask nicely courtesy of the wood he'd brought with him from Egypt. A tree whose name he'd known well before it and its kin were paved over by advancing civilizations. It was a beautiful violet hued timber that now had a smooth as silk feel from the millennia he'd carried it with him. It protected his little cache wherever he went.

There was one more thing in there; a blade of the same strange black glass as all those little vials he had. He'd taken it from someone with the same strange dark eyes as the girl he'd been obsessed with the last 4 days sometime after those eyes had closed forever. Someone who could do the same little trick she pulled back there that gave her more of an edge on him than anything else had in a really long time. If she got a hold of a blade like that she would know how to finish him too. 

She was more powerful than the priest he'd once tangled with. That coldness that crept through him the first time was more a shock to the system. This time it crippled him. If she hadn't been overcome with something he would never have gotten a word out. He might still be sitting there.

And now that was over. 

He sat up. The next moment he stood before the closet door, moving through his own world which sat in an interesting juxtaposition to this one. If people could see what he saw it would like cosmic rats had chewed little holes in reality here and there. His kind referred to them as planebreaks.

He ran a finger over the carving on the violet plain; Egyptian hieroglyphics and a carving of his likeness. This was the only remnant of his first life, and the tree the wood once belonged to was the first name he'd ever learned from the scrolls that had rested in the great library of Alexandria eons ago. The words on the door were the Egyptian translation of that scroll.

Whispering the old name, the door opened for him. He'd had it modified so there were dozens of drawers in cedar, another name he knew, lining each of the four walls and a table in the center. The table, draped in deep blue silk embroidered with the same runic symbols that tattooed his very essence, held the largest of the objects he'd collected during his extensive lifespan. In the center sat the blade. 

He neared the black glass with caution. Its appearance belied its strength. This glass would not shatter and it was nameless. EVERYTHING that existed had a name in a tongue older than the universe; the name that brought it into this world. The language had no sound since sound came with the universe, but it was there and he could speak it however someone on the receiving end of that knowledge might want to take that. The unique language of his own kind gave him an advantage, but it wasn't beyond the ability of humans. In a more primitive time the knowledge was theirs as well or Damien would not know it now. This material, however, was not created. It existed before creation and continued to exist now. If one looked at it long enough they would notice a slight distortion around it, as if it bent reality just a little. Other than that there was nothing particularly interesting about it. Most wouldn't even look long enough to notice the bizarre warped space that hovered less than a centimeter from its surface. Sharpened as it was now, it only meant a nasty cut to most living creatures. 

But the creatures he referred to as hunters, because once they did hunt his kind, were not most living creatures. They're ability to control the emotions of others gave them the ability to control those like him, and that blade had a knack for destroying things under the users control. So much so that an unfortunate recipient of a death blow from a hunter holding a blade like that not only died, but ceased to exist entirely. 

Damien often wondered who the hell his predecessors had pissed off badly enough to warrant that much vengeance. Or maybe it was just a really tenacious human. They could be a bitch sometimes.

In his hands the power might be nearly unlimited. The names he knew gave him the power to control the things he named, but human names were harder to come by. He could go wipe out the existence of a grove of trees or something which would be weird. Still, who knew what that grove of trees might have done? Who knew what he would change?

He found he was able to manipulate the material using fire from his world, and that's how he came by his little trade. What destroyed also captured and protected things that, by the standards of this world, were only ideas. Shit still made him uneasy though.

He turned around, closed the door, and went back to the bed to sit, mentally shooing away the odd emptiness that crept up on him now. What was he? Curiosity, passion, danger, desire...but not this. He knew the edges of it. He'd collected loneliness before. It shouldn't be a problem, but there it was. Part of him wondered if this was the beginning of the end. Maybe he was breaking down and would one day soon fade into nothing...back to where he started.

It was a thought and that was that. He shrugged and moved through the house thinking of hot showers and new distractions and ways to relieve an itch he could not scratch.





Damien Night Ch. 06



"Because of that singsong bullshit you do. Be happy. He was a god once, though way more fun than you." Damien clicked open the glass door and stepped out. "You're looking a little transparent, Aaron."

The fair haired man shook his head at Damien with the same look a father gives an upstart son.

"Aaron." Damien said absently while wrapping an oversized white towel around his narrow waist. "So plain. We are anything but..."

"Complicated." Aaron finished for him though not as sharply as he would have liked. Words were not as easy for him as they were for the being in front of him. "We are simple creatures, Damien. Most of us anyway. What have you done?" That last question held his entire purpose for being here.

"Why can't I keep you out of my house?" Damien snapped on his way to the mirror without bothering to look at the intruder. There were words in that ancient language he was one of the few to be intimate with burned into every entrance of his abode; words that thwarted anything, including fucking spiders, from coming in. Still there was someone in this place that shouldn't be. He wasn't much older than Damien but, for whatever reason, he had a better grasp of time. He was actually present for most of his centuries.

"Secrets not meant for you." Aaron answered with a half-smile, patiently waiting for the answer to his question.

Damien stood quietly in front of the granite vanity that spanned the wall across from the shower. It was just one sink set in a dark and light mosaic of browns and creams, and the wall wasn't that big, but it was beautiful. The clear shower stall behind him sat adjacent to a whirl pool tub. There was a toilet at the other end, but it would have dust on it if not for the cleaning crew. He turned back from the vanity, and just stared at the other man for a while.

"Nothing. Hence the frustration." He said finally and stalked out.

"Really." Aaron never had to speak loud. His voice carried easily...even from the couch that he now occupied downstairs. "That girl just did something I haven't seen in a long time."

"Oh?" Damien called down in a curious tone, though inside he'd gone almost as cold as the last time he'd seen Annabel.

"You would have enjoyed it. She made out with some pretty girl."

"And that is something you haven't seen in a while? You really need to get out more." He commented as he descended his stairs wondering when the unwanted visit was going to end.

"In the middle of a very public place with a girl that, until that moment, wouldn't have looked at another female without several zeroes involved. Only you can seduce like that." 

Damien smiled to himself at Aaron's mention of his particular talents. He finished his trip down the stairs while the other demon talked, choosing white pinstriped pajama bottoms to lounge around in after he got rid of this irritation. He found himself level with Aaron's chilly eyes at the end of the final revelation. Those eyes did not fit his demeanor or his tastes. Of course the thing that Aaron craved had a tendency to cause its own fair share of devastation.

"She might have a few sprinkles of what they call 'supernatural' in her, but trust me I didn't put them there." Damien grinned.

"And you didn't bother to tell her that using them makes every super...natural," Aaron stumbled over that word, "creature in the vicinity aware of her?"

Well he did tell her there was no coming back from what she could do. 

'Fuck it. Not my problem,' he lied to himself.

"I couldn't get what I wanted. Simple creatures, right?" He moved past the living room straight to the kitchen to hunt for cheese puffs only to run smack into Aaron.

"Simple creatures, Damien." 

The tone was a warning and then he disappeared. He didn't slip through to their plane. Damien would have seen that. He was just gone. What the hell did the Eros-want-to-be think he was going to do anyway? 

In a way they were brothers: two very extreme sides of the same spectrum. That was the key: extreme. He and Aaron were anything but simple. The depth of the emotions they fed on - the bonds that were born of them - added complications. Complications made anyone capable of doing something stupid. 

The answer to the question of what Damien was going to do was definitely not 'nothing'. He knew himself well enough to know he wasn't going to just sit back and let the problem sort itself out, just like he knew he wasn't going to follow better judgment and let that little conquest go. Aaron, meddlesome creature that he was, didn't bother cuing him in on what exactly he was warning him about. That was akin to putting up neon arrows and a sign that said 'we'll have the most fun fucking up here'. The being that walked past his incantations without so much as a tingle was definitely up to something though.

Damien walked back into the pristine white living room, the black jeans and t-shirt he now wore standing out like an ink stain on lineless paper. She was like him: recklessly curious. This time was going to end her most likely, and the thought of that made his continued existence a little less interesting. Well...at the moment.

He opted for the elevator down from the high-rise apartment into the night. There was no reason to hurry considering he wasn't even sure exactly where he was going at the moment. Hunters had a tendency, especially newly curious ones, to prowl the places most familiar to them making the bookstore a good place to start.





Damien Night Ch. 07



I did not end up rewriting this like I wanted...so here it is just like it started. I would have posted all of it, but there were thirteen thousand words and I only had the stamina to get through half. I will work on the rest tomorrow...I hope.

**********************************

Her hands were still in his. He was warmer than she thought he'd be. She assumed vampire like coldness, but instead it was the comforting warmth of a campfire on a chilly night. Everything went ice cold when she realized her hands were empty.

"Where is it?!" She cried out, pulling away from Damien who'd relaxed his grip when he saw her calm down. "I must have dropped it!" She was looking frantically around the plush snowy white floor while Damien watched her thoughtfully.

Unlike her he kept his presence of mind back there. Fear wasn't really something he had to deal with, but stupid wasn't an emotion. It was definitely stupid. Still, his thumb sliding across the rough surface of the soft metal reminded him of the unexpected reward. He drew out the charm on its worn leather strap, barely thicker than a piece of yarn. The dull gray of the object barely reflected the light in his bedroom. It wasn't made to look like anything. Actually it looked like the trash one might find in an empty smelter, but that wasn't the point. Pewter was pliant in more ways than just the physical. The language of names, when written correctly, imbued it with certain properties. As he turned the thing over he found one smooth spot in which was carved an oddly unfinished pentagram with exactly half a circle and only 3 of the star's points with an extra line thrown in there. He knew the mark. It and several others like it littered every door frame in his abode. There was no telling how old this thing was.

"You didn't drop it." Damien informed her as he held it up, the leather cord resting between his index and middle fingers. 

Anger. That was the first feeling she should have had. She should have been fucking pissed. The damn thing was hers, it was obviously powerful, and he damn well needed to give it back to her. It wasn't anger though. Thank any god that might be listening he could not read her mind. Never mind the fact that she hadn't any luck with listening gods recently. 

Damien smiled; a faraway look in his fascinating eyes.

"Give. It. Back." Annabel said with all the venom she could muster.

He palmed the piece of jewelry. 

"No," he said shaking his head, "and drop the act." His voice was neutral however short the words were.

"Act?" Her eyes widened in genuine surprise as she started retreating from him. There was something different in Damien's eyes, or it was something different in her. She might be insane. Anyone else would be a ball of tears on the floor in the fetal position. That's where she fought not to be only five minutes ago, and now she was fighting...something else.

"Yes." He smiled gently and started matching her steps.

"I want my necklace back, Damien." She demanded, more breathless than she would have liked.

"I know, Annabel. What I'm curious about is why you need it so badly. Who, exactly, are you trying to protect yourself from?" He had his head cocked to the side, curiosity burning in the green embers that were his eyes. 

Her back connected with the smooth cool wall behind her, and the distance between them began to close exponentially. A few seconds more and he would be only inches from her, like the night they first met when he was just another stranger. Her heart raced not for the first time tonight, but for a wholly different and equally overwhelming reason. Her little defense mechanism wasn't going to kick in. She was going to feel this...every unbelievable second of it. 

"I," she stumbled, "you...obviously, and those like you. Why ask me a question like that?" She lifted her chin indignantly and tried to meet him eye to eye. As close as he was now it only made it easier for him to seal their fate anytime he wished. Black wraparound shades came to mind and the whisper of a question: maybe you'll be that kind of girl for me.

"We could start from the beginning." His hands went to either side of her, caging her in. His scent wreaked havoc on her mutinous senses. Annabel scrambled for that cold place desperately trying to reign in her emotions. As much as she thought she wanted to feel more that numbness was her comfort zone and she was now way out of it.

"Don't, Annabel." He whispered in her ear.

"How are you doing this?" She asked, pressing herself against the wall; not quite escaping but not quite giving in.

"Doing what?" He held himself still just in front of her. Tension outlined his jaw and the muscles of his shoulder just under the hem of his short sleeve t-shirt as if he barely held himself in check. What was he waiting for?

"Making me want to fall so badly?"

He shook his head, his eyes searching her face and a smile tugging on the corner of his lips.

"I'm not doing a damn thing."

He was still, not even breathing. Had he ever breathed? The stray thought crossed her mind as her eyes drifted closed, and erased like it had never been the second his lips brushed hers. 

A hint of warm sweet fire coursed through her as he kissed her so lightly she half wondered if she was dreaming. Damien still held back. She was relenting. Why wouldn't he just take what he wanted? He drew away from her after the feather light kiss leaving her alone with the sound of shaky breaths, the racing of her heart and the cool wall beneath her hands. She opened her eyes suddenly afraid he'd gone, but the green of his jeweled eyes greeted her from his unmoving form.

The relief that filled her shocked her. Annabel wanted a deeper taste, she wanted to feel his body against hers, and she wanted to feel his warmth against her skin. To hell with broken promises and crazy creatures that offered fates worse than death. She'd managed to feel fear to the very core of her being, and now Damien was an unspoken promise to feel desire in that same way, to chase away the terror and helplessness. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her lips against his. 

He felt human enough; soft lips contrasted the sensation of his chest against hers. The muscles in his shoulders shifted as he came to life, pushing off the wall and embracing her. His hands slid down her back exploring the slight curve. It was electric, little sparks of pleasure weakening her knees, and she tightened her grip on him wanting more. 

Damien kissed her hard, bruising need seeping through his control followed by the touch of tongue seeking entrance. Annabel parted her lips, sighing softly at the feel of his oddly warm hands against the bare skin of her back. 

A moment later a jolt that started from his hands went through her like every cell in her body capable of responding to pleasure had come alive at the exact same time. Damien's hands went to the wall to either side of her and he swore under his breath as he broke contact completely. His eyes were half closed, lips parted slightly, like he'd just sampled the god's ambrosia.

"What..." She started with a breathless word, her hands up in front of her unsure whether to drop them or pull him back to her.

"Nothing, you're just...different." He didn't give her the chance to ask what he meant by that.

***

Damien took his time, savoring this moment. It wasn't exactly easy, but he was getting something he'd give up for lost. There was no way he was hurrying this. Her frustration was just a perk. The feel of smooth skin against his splayed hands and her eager kiss, or maybe it was his hunger, made things a little more difficult than he anticipated. He slipped, letting tendrils of his essence wrap around hers, tasting the storm of emotion he'd churned inside her. His plan was to actually be inside of her when he did that, to take her when they were as close as humanly possible, but fuck. The rush was incredible...powerful. He had to stop for a second just to reign himself in because there was no way this was ending now.

'Different' was an understatement.

He kissed her before they could go off on a tangent and her body melded into his without hesitation, her slender arms entwining his neck. There was a protocol here, generally. He meant to set his tongue between her thighs, to taste her, and indulge in the feel and sound of her climax...as many as he could get. He loved feeding when they were exhausted. The shock as the body responded to him when his prey was sure there was nothing left was enthralling, but that little taste changed things. 

His teeth found her neck while his hands found the zipper on the side of the pretty black lace tank she wore. She whimpered, her nails digging into the t-shirt across his shoulders as he bit harder. When he moved away to strip the shirt off of her there was purple mark at the point where her shoulder sloped into the slender pale column of her neck that wouldn't be fading any time soon. A mark like she belonged to him. It inspired a very dark thought which he shrugged off for a later moment.

He easily gathered her into his arms, smiling when she gasped as he swept her off her feet, and headed toward the bed, its thick posts looming up darkly. He set her down at the foot and removed the copper dome that caged her hair on top of her head. It fell in inky black waves nearly to her knees, but he refrained from running his fingers through it. With a sense of urgency he finished undressing her, listening intently to the flurry of thoughts in her head. It turned her on, the power he had over her and the fear he inspired in her, making him smile against her mouth. It was either that or the stray thought about what his cock might look like; something about teeth. 

Silly girl.

He did run his fingers through the silky strands once, moving the black fall of tresses in front of her before he pushed her up on the bed so she was sitting. He refrained from speaking and ruining this on the off chance it was a dream. It was possible. He'd had enough crazy thoughts of late. When he stripped off his own shirt she reached out to trace one of the dark marks on his torso. 

"No." He said grabbing her wrist. "That may not end well."

"Ticklish?" She asked with an impish grin as she tried to touch him again.

"This language is not spoken, it is written, and it does more than inform." He smiled as he spoke, climbing over her and pinning her arms above her head once he pushed her on her back. He claimed her mouth again reveling in the feel of her struggle to kiss him back while he held her prone and the race of her pulse beneath the thin skin of her wrist. When he moved to press his knee between hers she stilled.

He swore to himself lifting up to look in her wide eyes.

"I remember you saying you would have given anything for a taste once." There was a tremor in her voice; still afraid of him and a little guilty. 

Of course it was going to be a struggle. She was breaking a promise she'd kept for years. She also knew what he was. This wasn't some fantasy he'd gleaned from her so he could have her for a single night, but him.

The comment sparked the memory of the remnants of her scent at the book store and the stilted smell of newly bound books as she took her frustration out on them. He still wanted that, but he needed something else. And he did damn near give everything for it.

"Yes, but there's something I want more." He released her hands and came up on his knees, looking down at her as his fingers went to the button at his narrow waist. Her eyes took him in, the carved 'V' that disappeared below his jeans and up to the ripple of his abs. The thought that he was too perfect crossed her mind along with a morbid curiosity of what was to be revealed next. He absently wondered how many times she could make him smile.

He slipped the restrictive material off letting his cock spring free, happy to note she was pleased.

"Like what you see?" He grinned

"I..." He cut her off with another kiss, gripping her waist to lift and slide her further back on the large bed. His fingers glided up her sides, his palms cupped her breasts while his thumbs grazed the hardened rosy tips. Her hips rose, moist silk pressed against his own thigh still nestled between hers. 

There was no hesitation from her this time when he coaxed her thighs further apart so he could settle between them. Her flesh was cool against his legs making the warmth at the apex of her thighs like a beacon for his hunger. 

Her fingers knotted in the snow white of the down comforter, black enameled nails a stark contrast, when his mouth descended on a defenseless nipple. Her back arched, giving him more, and her thighs tightened against his. Their minds were a complete match in desire at that moment, and any self-control he had left burned in the fire kindled between them.

"Don't fight me." He whisper harshly in her ear before he sank into her and dropped his guard.

There was a short wave of confusion on this command, and the next second she got it.

"Fuck!" 

He couldn't help but smile. She enjoyed that word nearly as much as he. That the feel of her, the taste...Jesus he wasn't sure he'd be able to stop. Frustrated memories flooded the space between them, and the fact that for the first time he delivered everything her traitorous hormones had always promised...and more. 

Too much.

"Damien." She breathed, a small panic threading through the storm that thundered every time he moved within her. She'd thrown her arms around him when he thrust that first time and he could feel the sting as nails bit into his back. 

He could feel the struggle against what he took hidden behind the heat of what he gave. She kissed him hard, an attempt ground herself, then threw her head back when thrust again. A mix of 'oh fuck' and 'oh god' slipped past her lips in a fast paced whispers.

"Cum, Belle." He urged against her neck only halfheartedly. He wanted the rest of the energy he siphoned off of her...everything. The moment she hit that peak his bewitched touch edged her towards the link between them would break in a sweet violence, the grand denouement of this moment.

The thought of losing her managed to worm its way through the power he wished to drink beyond his fill of. He wanted this, but something small and new needed her. 

"Cum, Belle." He said with a renewed ferocity. "Don't fight."

Her body shook beneath his as she neared a point she was she would shatter.

"Then shatter...I'll catch you." He whispered in her ear.

He felt her climax as his own when her back arch and nails broke the skin across his back. It was the closest he ever got to feeling as they did; to knowing so much more than his endless simple existence. He held her until it was over and she sank boneless into the bed as he hovered over her. He moved quietly beside her, laying on his back and staring up at the white ceiling; reveling in the feel of energy coursing through him and the smell of her all around him. The disappointment of letting go paled in comparison to possibility that he would have her again...and again. Whatever was responsible for her creation needed a personal 'thank you' from him.

Suddenly the fifty or so years she had left wasn't enough.

***

Annabel's body still trembled from little aftershocks as she tried to steady her heart and keep her mind from slipping into the darkness that nearly claimed her. If sex was always like this than it was no wonder people developed an addiction to it, though she somehow doubted it was exactly like this. 'Felt so good it was scary' was supposed to be an expression, not the literal truth.

She attempted to lift up on her elbows and was rewarded with a wave a dizziness that forced her back down with a flop. Damien, who had been lying quite still beside her, rolled over onto his side with a look of surprise on his face that looked oddly misplaced on him.

"What did you do to me?" She asked, her eyes cutting towards him.

He dropped to his back again laughing. "You have no clue how many times I've heard that."

"A number somewhere in the thousands?" She asked absently while considering just how good he looked at that moment. Every muscle from the curve of his shoulder to the plane of his stomach was defined, and, in stark contrast to her, he looked like he could run a marathon without breaking a sweat. 

"Yeah." He said softly while staring at the ceiling. "Just relax. Your strength will come back to you."

"What did you take?" Her throat was dry. She'd fallen asleep in a hot tub once and thought to herself that the feeling was remarkably similar.

"Life force in a way. It's hard to explain."

"Then what was all that about surrender?" Her breath finally calmed and pure satisfaction settled in every inch of her body. Curiosity now rivaled the flames he kindled within her.

Damien propped himself back up on his elbow, his eyes tracing the curves of her body.

"I need it. It's the conduit that allows me to get to that part of you." He pointed to the center of her chest.

"Ah." Annabel stayed quiet for a minute, unsure where to go from here. "You know you aren't as good as you think."

"What?" He actually snorted when he laughed.

"It's not like you have to know anything about a woman's body with that touch of yours."

"Ah, but I know anyway. What else am I supposed to do with eons of existence stretching out before me?" He stood up chuckling and headed towards the bathroom.

Annabel attempted to move again with a little more success this time. She considered asking him to prove it, but she still wasn't ready for another round of Damien. He was still naked, those beautiful dark symbols wrapping around his torso the same as they did the first time she met him. She wondered why they never changed when he did.

"Because they are tattooed on my life force, or essence, or whatever you want to call it." He answered out of the blue on his way back from the restroom with a glass of water.

"What?" She asked, confused.

"The language on my body?" He clarified, his head tilted to the side, as he handed her the glass.

"Did I say..."

"No." He interrupted her. "That little trinket of yours kept me out in a lot of ways."

Her necklace. He didn't take her soul or harm her in any of the ways she'd tried so very hard to convince herself he would. There was a strong pull to believe it was because there was more here than just a chance meeting doomed to end, but she knew better than to be so silly. The silence stretched out until she could feel it sliding across the growing ache in her chest.

"My necklace?" She said finally, some piece of her heart breaking to end the little charade. It was an unfamiliar feeling, but it was better now than later when things were even stronger. She held out her hand hoping it would be enough, or maybe he would say something awful and she could be angry instead of hurt.

He was unnervingly still, green eyes focused on her.

"Damien?" It hurt to say his name. God what was wrong with her? 

"I want something." It was as if someone pushed play on him, one of the subtle clues he didn't belong in this world. He was standing directly beside the bed now, the edge crossing his abdomen where that 'V' of muscle would have urged even the most prudish woman to look down further.

"What? My soul?" She joked halfheartedly. He already had her body and, technically, her heart whether he cared or not. She waited for his answer staring at the soft white sheets she'd gathered across her breasts, but all she got was silence.

"Damien?" Annabel asked with a worried smile. Her gaze slid over to find him looking at her expectantly. "My soul." She restated in a doubtful tone.

He nodded causing her to immediately erupt in a fit of laughter. 




Damien Night Ch. 07



"My soul? So are you going to turn into a little red-skinned man with black horns and a pitchfork?" She was giggling despite the little knot of hurt in her chest; truly insane. When her eyes lit on him, however, he was looking at her curiously with a little frown. "You can't be serious."

"Well not in the sense you're thinking." He said casually.

NO!

He was laughing softly and it took her a few minutes to realize she hadn't said it out loud. No, she was patiently waiting for him to explain what he meant instead of trying to leave. What was wrong with her?

"Curiosity gets me in trouble all the time." He commented in a nostalgic tone.

"Well this is not something I need to be curious about." She started trying to get up, but her body did not want to cooperate much to her dismay.

"But you are curious." He knelt down; smoldering green eyes level with hers and his voice smooth as silk in a cool breeze. How the hell did demons become equated with red-skinned goat men? Her stomach flipped in her torso threatening to unload whatever it was she ate last.

"What do you mean 'not in the sense I'm thinking'?" 

He said there was no proof of God and now he wanted her soul? Demons lie. That's what they do, but she fucking asked anyway? What the fuck was wrong with her?

"Because you'd kick yourself forever if you didn't...well for a few years anyway." He seemed to be getting a great deal of amusement out of this situation. "I'm not a demon, Annabel. I might masquerade as the myth, and there is a good chance someone like me started it, but I'm just a creature like you."

"Yeah don't start that 'cut me do I not bleed' bullshit, because you don't. And demons lie." She managed to prop herself up on her elbows, but it still left her feeling woozy.

"I don't lie. Why would I? I have to remember that shit 50, 100, even 1000 years from now." At least he stopped laughing.

"Well I won't be here 100 years from now." She said bitterly, giving into the way the room spun and lying back against the comfort of the mattress. 

"Yes you will." He stood and turned, showing off those strange tattoos, and his ass, as he walked away.

"And how is that, Damien?"

"Because you're going to say yes."

It was a lie to say the thought of living longer than even 100 years didn't make her think stupid things. All this time she'd avoided any idea of what he might give her. You don't make deals with demons or whatever the fuck he was. 

Yeah, and Hell...

"Not sure where hell came from. My world isn't anything like that." He brushed his hand against the strange violet wood of the closet door and it opened. "It's quiet...well maybe it would be hell to you. There is no sound there."

"Your world?" 

Damien disappeared into the closet.

"Oh you'll need every year you get from me to understand it all. There are so many worlds...all right here." He poked his head out of the closet to point at the ground in front of him before disappearing again. 

"So if there is no Hell what do you want with my soul?"

He came back out wearing a pair of black pajama pants and carrying something wrapped in a deep blue shimmering fabric with silver embroidery on it. He set it on the bed beside her.

"It's you."

"Right, the soul is everything you are...blah, blah, blah."
"No. To hell with the soul. I used the word because it is the closest thing I suppose. It's your connection to this world, the people in it, the things around it, animals, air, quarks, whatever. It's also the reason you die. It's the tie to the conveyor belt that dumps you off somewhere I can't go. I don't want you to leave."

"Oh?" Annabel frowned, unsure what to say. He wasn't looking at her as he rattled all that off, carefully unwrapping the pretty package between them as he spoke. Something stuck: somewhere he couldn't go. 

Heaven?

"Maybe." Damien said softly. Not having to say anything was strange.

"And if I give up this connection you're talking about..." She asked out loud. "Where will I go?"

"With me." 

He now had the fabric laid out. Silver embroidery laid out a set of his runes across the 2 foot long rectangle of dark blue cloth, a simple silver dagger with a one inch cross guard and twisted metal handle lay beside it, and he held what looked to be a short dark wooden dowel that was burned black and somewhat sharpened at one end.

"Forever?"

He looked up from what he was doing, "Forever is a long time."

"So I give up a chance at heaven to hang out with you until you get tired of me?"

"No, you give up a chance at an unknown world to learn everything you can about what you are and what I am, and, hell, anything else we want to do." He grinned then took a long hard look at the dowel in his hand which proceeded to smoke slightly, a thin stream of cloudy gray seeping upward into nothing.

"And when you get tired of me?" She pressed.

He looked at her for a moment, his brows crinkling together as he thought. "I'll give you back your connections. I can't say you'll want them by then, but there's your deal."

Some small voice of reason was screaming 'no' in her head, but she lost a firm hold with reason about a week ago. What was the alternative? She walks out the door, he keeps her only means of protection, and something less pleasant gets a hold of her?

"But it's not just that is it?" He had lowered himself to his knees beside the bed, his arms crossed in front of him with his chin resting on the mattress and the charcoal pencil dangling been the index and middle fingers of his right hand. He looked almost vulnerable at that moment. 

"Not being able to think in private is mildly unfair."

"Only to you."

Annabel shook her head and stared up at the ceiling wondering how the hell she was supposed to make a decision like this. There had never been a god telling her anything. Honestly, Damien was the closest thing to God she'd ever seen, and now he offered her a chance she would always wonder about for the rest of her godforsaken life. It wasn't like she had a connection with anything else on this crap planet anyway.

"That's not entirely true." Damien broke into her silent revelry.

"Huh?" She tilted her head to look at him again.

"Everyone is connected. You may not feel it now, but you'll feel it when it's gone." He said somberly, rising as he spoke.

"Why tell me that if you want me to go with you?" She asked, still thinking of him as the demon attempting to win her for his master.

"It's the rule. You have to know what you are giving up before you can give it up. I didn't make it...just have to follow it." He said with a frown.

"So there are rules to taking souls...interesting. I always thought you would be free to say whatever the hell you wanted." She laughed sardonically.

"Yes. For some reason there are." Damien's tone was more of a grumble. "And don't ask me how you'll feel it. My kind is connected to nothing...generally." 

The last word was added after he looked at her a moment. Somehow they were connected, crazy as it seemed. Annabel took a deep breath knowing there was no going back from this, but also knowing she had no clue what exactly she was giving up and never would.

"It's yours." 

A weight settled across her chest, one that made her want to panic simultaneously with the knowledge that there was no point. The prerequisites had been fulfilled. She was his.

Damien kneeled on the edge of the bed and he walked on all fours like a cat until he straddled her hips. He grasped the sheet that covered her between his thumb and forefinger and began to slip it off her breasts.

"What are you doing?" There was an alarm in her voice as she held fast to the thin protection though it was futile now and she knew it.

"Preparing a space to write. Let go."

Annabel did as he asked and the soft fabric slipped down her waist leaving her more naked than she had ever been in her entire life. Damien laid the cool silken cloth across her breasts and lifted the blackened stick of wood.

"Shouldn't you have told me this wasn't going to be pleasant before I said yes?" Annabel said as she fought the urge to squirm from under him.

"I figured that was a given."

The wood was not overly warm against her skin as he started to copy the runes from the cloth, but that wasn't what had her on edge. She could feel the intention building. Somehow not even Damien knew the extent of this decision so he managed to skirt a rule without even knowing it. She swore the universe shuddered at the first stroke of black, but a deal was a deal and even the knowledge of the beginning of time couldn't undo what the two of them had just done. 

"I should have thought this through more."

"Oh you're saying that now?" Damien completed the first rune of six, and Annabel had the sudden need to claw onto something as if the entire world had just tipped sideways and she was doomed to slide off into nothing. "Apparently you thought it through enough. A deal was struck."

"What do you mean?" She asked as she watched him draw the next lines with the same care one might give to holding an angry bottle of nitroglycerin. 

He had his bottom lip between his white teeth as he hit sharp corners and ended with a swirl before lifting the writing implement.

"The rules are very specific. I can't manipulate you in any way. You have to give this up under your own volition." He set back to lettering in that bizarre language on a seemingly random point of her abdomen.

I have to be that stupid, she thought to herself bringing her knees up behind him no longer able to resist the urge to fight.

"Don't. Move." He hissed. "I fuck this up and we are both screwed."

Annabel squeezed her eyes shut and tried to breath. 

"How the hell am I supposed to stay still? The wrongness of the situation is somewhat overwhelming."

"Well of course it is. We are going against nature." He was very calm and matter of fact which was just a little irritating. It was, of course, too late to start wondering what the hell she'd been thinking.

Every mark somehow tore at something inside her. Damien hadn't lied. He said she would feel the connection when she lost it, and that he had no idea how she'd feel it. A futile wish that he could have warned her came and left. This loss had no words and she would have said yes anyway. She had no clue what she was losing and still didn't.

Annabel felt the sting of salt on her skin as tears slipped from the corners of her eyes while she stared at the stark white ceiling above her. She was a bird that had taken the bait and would sing from the bars of her cage forever. And then the weight of forever pressed down on her and she wanted to scream but there was no room to breathe.

"It's almost over, Annabel. Just a moment more." Damien whispered. "One rune for the Earth, one for fire, one for water, and one for air. One for the light and the last for the dark...for me."

His voice was a methodical chant and she concentrated on it as he finished whatever it was he did. There was no pain only an awful emptiness pushing against any warmth she had ever felt in life. Damien's voice, the chanting description of the magic he worked, lulled her away from her regret as the world slipped away through her tears.

"Somehow I thought there would be more fanfare with that." 

Annabel had just noticed the lengthened silence when he spoke. When she looked up she was surprised to find a haggard version of the demigod she was used to. Dark rings now rested beneath his emerald eyes and he was staring on the charcoal drawing stick he held in his hand.

"I guess that's why demons don't actually collect souls." She said in a faraway voice.

"We must have once because the instructions were there." 

He climbed off her, standing unsteady once he slid off the edge of the bed. She would have asked him if managed to do it, but there was no doubt. Everything had changed and whatever he had done had nearly killed him from the look of it. Now all that was left was to figure out where they went from here.

Annabel sat up without difficulty looked down at the runes across her torso. They were fading except for the last just beneath her breasts, the one he named the dark for him. She watched curiously as she flexed her limbs noticing her strength had completely returned where his was completely gone.

"I guess they are a 'one and done' kind of thing."

"Those that have completed the purpose they were written for fade." Damien folded the charcoal writing implement back into the dark blue shimmering silk as he spoke. "The last binds you to me and will remain until I release you."

Up until that moment the shit she'd dealt with had a measure of difficulty she was not prepared for and still not sure how to handle, but the effects were long-term and she decided to just take it one day at a time. That wasn't everything unfortunately. She watched Damien hit his knees at the side of the bed before the pain slammed into her: a fire bloomed deep inside from her center beneath the rune that remained. She screamed, clutching her body in some futile effort to protect herself. The next minute the pain was gone and she was floating. For a second she thought she was dead until it occurred to her that the soft sobs she heard were her own.

"Holy fuck what was that?!" Damien yelped from beside her. He was barely supporting himself on the edge of the bed and his skin had gone the color of soured milk. 

Annabel's stomach turned and she brought a trembling hand to her forehead. She grabbed the headboard and hauled herself upright again to get another look at her stomach. The color had change to a smooth dull black over the powdery jet black of the burned wood streaked across her skin. It looked like one of Damien's tattoos.

Damien turned to sit on the edge of the bed and his eyes slid over to her.

"So that's what that feels like." 

"What what feels like?" She asked, hoping like hell there wasn't going to be any more surprises.

"One of these." He pointed to a random rune on his body.

"Really? You have at least 10 of the damn things and you didn't know that was going to happen?" She snapped.

"Until just now I couldn't feel pain, at least not the way you feel it." His voice was worn. Well shit neither of them had benefited in any way from this exchange. It would make sense if the devil was playing tricks.

Damien started laughing and shaking his head.

"What? Maybe we just figured out there is a God and I just fucked myself." Annabel bit out.

He flashed her rueful grin and she knew exactly what he was thinking without him saying a word.

"No, it seems there are a few benefits to this I was unaware of."

"Like what?" Annabel grumbled wishing she'd had a choice between the pain and the disconnected emptiness she now faced. Pain hands down, though only if she had to bare it for the short time she did. Maybe. That did really fucking hurt.

Damien looked at her then at the little nightstand to the side of the bed. The dark solid wood sat unassuming holding a simple lamp and some random papers. The corners of his mouth lifted slightly, the quintessential Cheshire cat, and the sturdy block lifted and smashed a hole in the far wall leaving a path of random things people might store in a nightstand behind it.

"Holy shit!" Annabel grabbed the thick down comforter and pulled it protectively against her chest with visions of Damien going stark raving evil. "Why can you do that now?"

"My connection with this world has always been tenuous limiting what I can do in it. Apparently what I took from you changed that. I'm curious what my limit is." He seemed to shrink however, climbing back into the bed beside her and resting his back against the dark headboard. "Thinking isn't one of my strong points." He said after a few moments then he looked at her. "I have an awful feeling in my stomach. Is that you?"

"You feel everything I feel?" Her death grip on the comforter relaxed.

"It would seem...or I'm dealing with feelings." He was shaking his head.

"There's a dread...like we've done something that somehow affects the whole world." She said.

"Maybe you're just being dramatic." 

Annabel stood up and started throwing her clothes on.

"Where are you going?"

"I just need to think. Something I should have done before I did this, but, really, what the hell are consequences now?"

He made no move to stop her. It didn't matter in truth. She was his in a way no human had belonged to another in more years than any sentient being could remember. He could find her, bring her back, send her into nothing...whatever he wished. The rush of that power and the things he could suddenly conflicted with something else. She could leave. He needed Aaron.



Damien Night Ch. 08



It's done. I know there is a ton more I could write, but I'm not going to post anymore here most likely. I'm hoping to clean it up and write a series of books I can publish eventually. 

***** 

Annabel hit the stairs noting the bank of windows that continued from his bedroom. The light of the stars was drowned by the Houston skyline spreading out beside them and the moon was nowhere to be seen. It also became apparent at that moment she had no clue where she was at. 

She grabbed the long coat he'd left lying over the back of the couch and settled into it as she made the elevator. She wanted people or proof she still existed. There was an unfortunate amount of time to think as the steel box she stood in descended 14 stories. If she really was going to live as long as the creature up stairs this wasn't even the start of it. 

A soft ding alerted her to the fact that elevator was stopping. The doors parted and to reveal blond heavy set woman with a little blond boy talking nonstop. Just like the floor she'd come from, they stood in more of a room than a hallway with chairs and large fluted lilies arranged with other flowers and greenery in beautiful porcelain vases. 

The woman was smiling and shaking her head as she started to step over the threshold, but then she looked up at Annabel and stopped. She smiled with nervous politeness, a silver filling reflecting in one of her top molars, and caught the boy before he could enter. 

"Come on Camden. We need to go get something back at the apartment." 

The boy took one look at her and didn't argue. The door shut and Annabel continued her descent. 

*** 

Damien started trying to figure out just how he was going to go about finding Aaron. Honestly he was surprised the man hadn't shown up. He had a habit of popping in when Damien got particularly careless. Still he wasn't sure what this classified as. It wasn't forbidden. It just hadn't been done in a few...thousand...years. Or ever. Maybe. It was weird how he knew so little about it even though all of the instructions were there. 

"Simple creatures." He said out loud. 

He got what he wanted. He could feel where she was and knew her thoughts as if they were his own. She wasn't going anywhere without his say so. There was more though. 

He could feel...everything. The air swirled around him in a tangible mass. If he wanted he could touch it, manipulated it. It stretched out across the city brushing stone and steel and flesh as far as he was willing to go. Through it he felt hearts beat in syncopated rhythm, minds wrapped in pleasure or pain or apathy, and the world itself breathing. 

Reality vibrated with potential energy fueled by the connections everything in it shared. It wasn't the air he felt, but that energy moving with the strange cohesiveness of a flock of birds. Why the hell had this never been done before? 

Something else: he could move through it. Fuck the breaks that slipped between his world and this. He could simply move through the connections surrounding him. 

Aaron! 

The thought hit him with the same weight as the deals he was accustomed to making. It wasn't possible, but it made so much sense it scared him. Not an inclination towards self-preservation, but an irrational thought that wouldn't leave him the fuck alone. It was a strange feeling to say the least. 

It took an act of will to focus on the thing that caused it: Aaron wasn't simple. All the shit he spouted in all the years the two of them crossed paths more than any other of their kind was just that: shit. The bastard had stolen a soul. Damien knew it with every fiber of his being...every awakening power in him knew it. 

Where the fuck was he? 

He searched through the energy around him like the weavings of a spider's web not quite sure what he was looking for. It stood to reason that something like him, something that defied nature, would stand out. 

He wasn't wrong. Amidst a cluster of beating hearts and chaotic thoughts he felt an unmistakably familiar presence. He knew the place a few miles away...or twenty. It didn't really matter to him. The fact that he could feel Aaron sitting under a tree in the green grass watching the eerily empty park in the moonlight from greater than the normal mile was far more fascinating. He moved to jump through one of the planebreaks when he had a second thought. 

Concentrating on the connection that led him to Aaron, Damien let his form dissolve and be pulled along it though not without trepidation. That part was going to take some getting used to. Letting himself thin into the air around him was not the safest thing in this world to do but he'd never been plagued with the possibilities before. Fear was a bitch. 

Relief found him solid in the moonlight of a relatively unlit section of the park. Aaron sat so still anyone else would have missed him leaning against the tree even as beautifully pale as he was. 

Somewhere a mocking bird wouldn't shut the fuck up. 

"That's an interesting trick, Damien." He was smiling without a trace of shock or confusion while picking up pebbles and skipping them across falling leaves. "Leaving Annabel alone right now isn't the best course of action." 

"What have you done?" Damien parroted the question back to the creature sitting on the ground. 

"Nothing, brother. Not a damn thing." He was grinning like the cat just caught the mouse as he tossed another stone. 

"You're a meddlesome bastard. I've always known it...somewhere. I see things very differently now, though. I have an understanding of what that means." 

"No, you are no longer a simple creature." Aaron stood; the black trench coat he was so fond of wearing folding out like dark broken wings. "And you are barely on the threshold of understanding. But you're on the right path." 

It wasn't like any of them to have an agenda. They moved, they fed, and they occasionally took pleasure in whatever it was that caught their eye. Damien had no clue until this moment just how simple they were - how little they cared for anything but themselves good or bad - because it didn't matter until now. 

"Where is the owner of what you took, Aaron?" Strange he would care more about that than what he could now do. Maybe this connection thing made you what the humans referred to as 'a better person'. 

Fair skin grayed and the icy blue light of his eyes dimmed. Something snapped inside of him it seemed as he gingerly leaned back against the tree, his eyesight weighted to the ground. 

"Where is Annabel?" Aaron asked with a deadly seriousness. 

She was fine...as fine as she could be. Everything about Aaron's demeanor indicated she wouldn't be for much longer causing a chill to slip through Damien's being. 

"She's on a bus downtown." 

Aaron held his hand out, black material creating a stark line across his flesh. "Let's go." 

"Not until you tell me what the fuck is going on." 

"Not until she's safe." 

"And why the fuck is she so goddamned important to you?" Damien hissed. 

"And what is she to you?" Blue ice light bored through him straight to the truth. Aaron might want her safe for whatever reason, but he needed her safe...especially now. He was so consumed with finding answers he didn't think that letting her out of his sight might be the dumbest thing he'd ever done. Damien grabbed the proffered hand roughly and dragged them both to where he knew she was. 

*** 

The rest of her wanderings were no different from the late night soccer mom and her kid. Annabel had always been lonely, but she only realized now that she hadn't been alone. The list of shoulda/coulda/woulda started flooding back in and she chased it away again. Honestly, how the hell was she supposed to know what she was giving up? That whole exercise was pointless now and even the possibility of a momentary loss of sanity being a good plea in a prayer was silly. Oddly, even now, she really didn't believe in God...or maybe she was in denial. Wasn't she damned to hell now? The way people avoided her like she was covered in someone's blood certainly had that ring to it. 

"What's going to happen now?" She asked softly to herself. The weight on her heart wasn't just the total lack of connection she felt with anything at that moment; it was also the deal. He was going to answer every question and show her everything. 

Fortuitously a metro bus waited at the stop just ahead as an elderly woman tried to navigate the steps. It had to be one of the last as midnight edged closer, and Annabel had to wonder why the tiny woman was out so late. She waited quietly in the shadow of a lone tree while the woman finished with the help of two passengers. 

Maybe the human race isn't so bad after all. Or maybe she could finally see it now that she was truly on the outside looking in. 

When the woman was settled Annabel got on with her pass out hoping she could make it through before things got awkward but failed. The look in the driver's eyes made her want to run screaming from herself. Thankfully he had no clue exactly what to do with his reaction to her, and she managed a seat in the back with no further incident. She thought of Damien running down the street in broad daylight announcing what he was to the world replete with his bag of tricks and no one caring beyond the entertainment he was providing. The reaction she inspired was palpable, but people ignored it quickly, most likely brushing it off as a moment of insanity, just like Damien said they would. 

The Void plagued her thoughts suddenly. Somehow she'd managed to forget the singularly most terrifying moment of her life, but then shit had happened since then. Luckily it wasn't around at the moment...that she knew of. Could she even feel Damien anymore? 

The bus rumbled to life taking her towards the place she tried to call home. The florescent lights seemed to push her down buzzing some damned language in her head. Maybe she wanted to the Void to get her. She looked at the other lost souls, playing on a phone or staring off into space and mentally kicked herself. 

Fuck it. 

At least she knew what she was missing. These poor bastards would never know. There was a small satisfaction in that. Now all she needed to do was make it across town, avoid whatever scary creature was lurking around the next corner, get the few things she wanted to keep from this life and then...say goodbye? 

The goodbye wasn't going to be hard. There wasn't much to this life which had to be the reason she so recklessly opted out of it. 

Annabel stared into the darkness outside as the bus lurched around a corner tossing her to the side. She barely noticed the lights flicker, and didn't care to be honest. She was still lost in nothing when the shrill sound of the air brakes warned her a second before she was tossed into the seat in front of her when the bus came to a sudden stop. Righting herself to the anxious whispers of the few people on the vehicle she didn't have to look far to find the source of the disturbance. 

"Damien?!" Wide black eyes tried to process the scene before them. 

"I don't really care how you got on my bus, but it would be best if you all left right now," came from the man up front. 

The bus driver probably chose the best course of action remaining in his seat. He was no match for Damien on his own and he wasn't on his own. The demon managed to appear out of thin air with the fair creature she'd glimpsed for just a second in the bookstore earlier in the evening; arctic blue eyes sending a chill down her spine. It was just a few hours before...chaos. 

"We want no trouble." 

Damien's companion spoke each syllable slipping from his lips in a precise manner though it was hard to notice how he spoke over the calm the sound of his voice elicited. Sure as she was there most likely was no God for some reason the first thought that popped into her mind was angel. 

"He's no angel." Damien whispered to her with his hand held out. "But he might have a good point regarding you being alone out here." 

Annabel glanced at the people staring at her and wondered how they would explain this away to themselves. 

"Might?" She queried. 

"I'll explain. I promise." The angel smiled and Annabel was compelled to return it. Where Damien made her pulse race with unease and desire, this one calmed her in the strangest way. It was almost like going home the way a poet might describe it.  

She took Damien's hand. Though the two in front of her were both blond, Damien was dark where his companion fair and shining. The dim lights that no longer flickered seemed to make a halo around his head while the night folded out behind Damien like wings. It was just a trick of the windows or maybe she just needed them to be something she knew at least in fable. Voids, blue bleeding devils and these guys: they all held their own form of warning. 

Wait, not the Void. Fuck the Void. 

They walked off the bus paying no heed to the stone still passengers. The bus driver opened the door and tried to ignore their leaving. 

"Thank you." The fair demon smiled at the brawny bald man behind the overly large wheel the color of soured milk. The man said nothing in response. Even after the three of them stepped onto the ground the door didn't close. Maybe they were trying to rationalize the whole thing still. 

"They'll forget. They always do." It was the angel, though Damien was quite sure he wasn't. 

"Whatever. I was fine. I need something from the apartment." The still night air made Annabel uneasy. It was just a few hours ago she was standing somewhere similar and learned the meaning of fear. 

"You're not fine." 

Tell me about it. She laughed bitterly realizing the errant thought didn't belong to just her. Neither of them said anything, but they didn't need to. Still the angel's voice calmed her. 

"Not an angel. And you should feel Bes' voice in our language." Green eyes sparked with mischievous light as he shivered dramatically. 

"Aaron." Came the clipped correction punctuated by the squeal of the airbrake as the bus started up again. 

"He likes being boring." Damien added. 

The name Aaron didn't seem quite right to Annabel for a demon or an angel. 

"So why am I not fine?" 

Aaron frowned obviously unsure where to start, and Annabel finally started wondering who the hell he was. Maybe randomly giant fuckups drew these guys like flies to shit. 

"He's something like a brother." Damien answered in the ensuing silence. 

"Interesting." Annabel commented with a frown. A host of possible places babies come from in his world came to mind. "And why is here?" She asked out loud. 

"I'm getting the feeling he orchestrated all of this." Damien was intently staring at Aaron as he spoke. 

"What?" She laughed a little. It was preposterous. Until that moment in the bookstore she had no clue he existed and Damien had never mentioned him. What was he some sort of all powerful unseen force? 

"No. He's very, very, very patient." 

"Two thousand years is a long time to wait." Aaron finally chimed in. 

"Two thousand years for what?" That patience was epic on a Bible scale. What Aaron said next solidified that sentiment. 

"To start a war." 

Annabel looked around nervously noting the empty dark street. She wondered where the Void was roaming around at. They were alone here as the night started giving way to the wee hours of the morning. 

"Don't wars normally include more than three people?" 

"You'll have to forgive him. He has a flare for the dramatic." Damien commented in a droll tone. 

"No, wars are just bigger than you are, and usually they remain in the memories of generations after they happen. Every once in a while someone manages to remove one from existence entirely, however." 

"Why would anyone want to start a war, Aaron?" She was growing impatient with...everything. It was one thing to deal with the fact that you might have irrevocably screwed yourself, but throwing the possibility of screwing the whole world in there was making her a little cranky. 

"I thought you didn't like the world." 

"Shut up, Damien." 

Aaron laughed. "You guys make a cute couple." 

Annabel took a deep breath and closed her eyes, stilling herself in search of that chill indicative her own little fledgling power. They might be able to appear wherever the hell they wanted to, among other things, but she might just be able to one up both of them. 

The alarm bells were there so she could still feel their presence. At least that hadn't changed, though Damien felt different. That strange comfort in him had grown stronger. Aaron, on the other hand, might as well have a target painted on him. Whatever changed in her also affected this little ability of hers. She froze him just like any emotion that threatened to overpower her. 

"Forget something, Aaron?" 

Damien's smug question indicated it worked. When she opened her eyes she found Aaron still as a paused DVD with Damien circling him the same way he did her that first night. She barely had to concentrate to maintain her hold on the fair demon making her wonder if losing her so called soul wasn't so bad after all. 

Annabel felt shock though it was wrapped in that warm comfort that calmed her now to the point of wanting to release the hold she had on the newcomer. 

"Yes she is a bit more powerful than the others." Her other companion spoke through gritted teeth. "Let him go, Annabel. I really can't stand it when he speaks." 

She was uneasy about doing what Damien requested. It was a spur of the moment decision born of frustration at everything that prompted her to try her little talent on him and now she feared repercussions. Aaron was calm even through his surprise however, and she was still curious why he was there. She might hear their language, so to speak, but it was still difficult to understand. Also the thought of just standing here didn't really make since so she let Aaron go. 

"Thank you." He calmly stated as he shivered in the wake of her release. "It was my understanding the control slowed us and allowed the use of the blade. The freezing thing is new." 

"Especially without training." Damien added. 

"Blade? No. One thing at a time. What is this about starting a war?" 

"There's a story..." Aaron started. 

"There's thousands of years' worth of stories." Annabel cut him off quietly. 

"And you have time." 

"I thought you said I wasn't fine." She was shaking her head, looking around at the empty streets again. Even at one in the morning there should have been people in this part of town. Where were they? 

"Bed maybe. Do you really regularly walk around town in the early morning alone?" It was the smooth silk of Damien's voice answering her voiceless question again. She contemplated asking if Aaron could hear her thoughts until she looked over and saw her green eyed devil shaking his sandy blond head 'no'. 

"You're fine, or close to it, as long as you stay with Damien. Although I might amend that after knowing what you can do even without a blade. So...we have time." Aaron continued, ignoring their silent exchange. 

"Back to the question of that soul you stole, Aaron." 

"What?" Annabel asked with a frown, but Aaron's reaction was strange. It ran through his entire body. He looked so tired suddenly; a man ready to give up entirely. 

"Even to one of us a few millennia is a long time to carry a burden." He paused for a moment the equivalent of taking a deep breath. "She was a hunter, Damien, back when hunters were hunters. She was nothing like you, Annabel, but then she had the advantage of knowing who she was." 

"Really? The only hunter I ever met before her was an emotionless waste of space." Damien grumbled. 

"That hunter knew who he was just like Millei." 




Damien Night Ch. 08



"Aaron that war happened before we came into existence. How the hell could they *know* who they were?" 

"Because you've been lied to." 

"Funny. I don't remember speaking with anyone about this. I've collected information from broken civilizations. As far as I know I'm the only one that does that. Like you once said: simple creatures." Damien rolled his eyes and shook his head. It was odd how he could remind her of a child given how long he'd been around. 

"What do you know about that blade you keep behind that little door, Damien?" 

"It's mine." 

"Did he ever tell you he killed someone a lot like you?" 

He directed the question at her even though Aaron didn't bother looking at her. 

"No. I'm sure there a lot of things he's never told me. I'm a little more interested in the blade you keep mentioning." She walked in front of him refusing to be secondary. "Or the war, or the soul...or anything. Answer a goddamn question!" 

Aaron looked around. "How about we show it to you?" 

"You have a real knack for avoiding things, Aaron." 

Damien grabbed Annabel by the shoulders and pushed her a few feet before the world went strange. She caught a vision of deep purples and blacks, the shadow of the universe, and in that moment the silence was almost thick enough to touch. She was overcome with the need to scream just to hear something. The world righted itself again a half a second later, and she was standing in Damien's bedroom. The feel of his warm skin against hers came over her; memories playing like someone touched the strings on a guitar in her mind. Hopefully Aaron couldn't read her thoughts. 

The fairer demon was already there studying the odd violet door that clashed with the rest of Damien's tastefully decorated bedroom. 

"It's funny. All the things I can do and I've never been able to get past this." 

Damien's eyes narrowed as he stared at the other's back. His grip on Annabel tightened and she could feel the frustration rolling off of him in a wave. 

"I think that blade will be staying where it is until you explain things, Aaron." 

"Why? You are the only two that can use it." Aaron was smiling, but he didn't seem intent on changing anyone's mind. "Right, I guess I'll just start. Once upon a time there was a girl named Millei." 

He propped his back against the door and she could see him lighting a cigarette cuing up a flashback. Her imagination always liked sprinkling a little extra on reality...even after reality went to hell. 

"I need to go back further than that, but it's fuzzy. So we'll start with Mellei...and us. We've always lived among humans in small numbers; shadows of the strongest things they feel. I think of our race as mosquitoes: born for one thing with no greater inclinations except in our case it's to feed and then disappear. Occasionally one of us gets the idea that we are capable of more." 

He spoke slowly, careful not to stumble over a single word. Annabel leaned back against Damien in the calm that followed that voice. For a potential enemy he really made you feel at home. 

"A few thousand years ago someone did just that...in a big way." 

"The war." Damien commented to which Aaron nodded. 

"Yes. It turns out once we are connected to this world we can manipulate it quite readily. Suddenly we are complex creatures with an unbalanced amount of power." 

"And power corrupts." She said shaking her head. 

"At a rapid rate in some cases." 

"BEFORE we existed one of us went a little crazy stealing souls so the story goes. Suddenly, up pops a group of humans with an interesting ability: a blade capable of erasing whatever is in their power from existence. We aren't sure what happened. Most of that was erased I'm guessing." There was a determination the in the smooth as silk voice behind her. 

"And that's where you were lied to." 

Damien moved from behind Annabel. "That's what you keep saying. And again no one told me shit about this. I dug around and found it on my own ergo no lying." 

The soft laugh was probably patronizing, but that wasn't the effect it had. These guys must pick up traits from whatever their preferred entre is. 

"Not history, Damien, memories. It erases memories. You can't unravel the fabric of the universe, but you can definitely put a little whiteout on it. That war didn't happen before we existed. It happened just a few thousand years ago and we as a group lost the memories. If it was existence than those little tidbits you found wouldn't be there." He turned and looked at Annabel. "People with a connection to this world are immune to that little side effect, but then you don't live long enough for it to matter." 

"So how do you know so much, Aaron?" Damien's fascinating green eyes narrowed. 

"Anyone connected to this world is immune to the effect." 

"Mellei. She was supposed to kill you, but she didn't." Annabel chimed in as she leaned back against the bed. 

"No, in fact she did not want to leave me. I suppose, somehow, love at first sight exists. Or maybe she was just not capable of killing. She had the spark of a hunter but not the cold colorless stare. She asked me questions and told me stories. She sated curiosities I'd long held in check given the way those of us that stood out were ended. I can't even remember how it started now." 

"And it's her soul you have." 

Aaron nodded solemnly to Damien's statement. "And I need to get it where it was intended in the first place." 

"Just release it." 

"It's not as simple as undoing a deal, Damien. If I do she'll just...disappear." The way he looked when he dropped his head Annabel could swear pieces of him were snapping like some old wooden railway failing under its own weight. "I swear I'm losing her now." 

"Wait, I thought this whole soul thing was just about connection." 

She didn't feel anything different but that overwhelming sense of loss, like what she felt when her gram died. The prospect of what Aaron was talking about made her stomach twist in a way that nearly brought tears to her eyes. He had to be wrong though. She wasn't a part of Damien. She was still right here. 

"Sorry. It's more." 

Even the calming effect on his voice did little to mitigate what he was trying to tell her. Now Annabel narrowed her eyes at the fair creature before her. 

"Whatever. Why the hell are you trying to start a war, Aaron?" 

"Did Damien ever tell you there are many planes all existing in the same place in a way? We can move through them in the breaks. We can even use the breaks to get to different places in the same plane without having to travel the distance. We see differently because of it too." 

"And what the hell does this have to do with a war?" She kept her tone even though the words were picked to mark her impatience. Apparently the love guru liked to hear himself talk. 

"We can move through any plane..." 

"But one." Damien finished for him. 

"It wasn't always that way. It happened during the war sometime. We were locked out." Aaron put his hand up like he pressed against a barrier Annabel couldn't see. "I've got to get her back there." 

"It was locked up because of the war and I'm sure whoever was responsible for that is long gone." 

"It wasn't...God?" Annabel ventured, the similarities between the war in heaven and this little unfolding story not being lost on her. 

"I told you...we've no idea." Damien chuckled. 

"Most likely human. Your kind is far more powerful than you know, but it has less to do with that than Damien thinks. It was locked up because of one being...the one that started it all...the one that remembers everything, and he is not gone." 

"Impossible. Where would something like that hide?" 

Annabel heard Damien speaking, but her mind was wandering. The devil. Aaron had to be describing the devil...or the creature that inspired him. 

"Every time one of us...collects...a human our connection to this world grows stronger...and our ability to manipulate it. You know that, Damien. That one collected many...enough that there would be no need to hide. He could simply trick the world into believing he's gone." 

"Then why hide? Why not finish what he started?" 

"What did he want?" Annabel broke in. 

"I don't know. I don't care. I need to find him though. Since I can't seem get to him the only option is to bring him to me. You two are my last hope." 

"I'm sorry. We won't help you." She continued coldly, not that she knew how she could stop that. 

"You already did love. I knew the moment your connection to this world passed to Damien. So does my quarry." 

Aaron was beautiful. There was no denying that. He was once the light that would shine in the darkest parts of a life it seemed. That beauty was just a shell now. The weight he carried, whatever it was, had taken its toll on him. The shell was cracking. Though he still looked the same as he most likely did untold years ago Annabel could almost see a haggard looking creature with sunken eyes and reedy breaths. Maybe something like the displaced drug addicts she saw on the bus occasionally. He was just as desperate as an addict too. 

"What happened to her?" 

"The one I'm after killed her just days after she gave herself to me. We should have had centuries, even millennia, but I had days. That's less than a second to someone like me, Annabel." 

Even to someone who had never known love that was a painful thought. 

"If you don't know what this thing wanted why do you think that this will draw it out?" Annabel asked quietly, some part of her understanding his plight even if she still barely understood what exactly was going on. 

"He obviously wanted something. He'll try again." 

Aaron was growing very distant as he spoke and it occurred to her he probably didn't care. He was just casting stones in to a pond hoping to cause a tidal wave and she was going to be in the middle of it. How does someone, anyone, get to a place like that? 

"I'm getting from you that this...guy...is pretty powerful. He could destroy the whole world? I mean...what if he does? How can you doom the whole world for one person?" 

He smiled then, a visible crack in his shell and it made her stomach turn. "It's only one world." 

Aaron disappeared. 

"Fuck." 

Annabel slid down the foot of the bed while Damien muttered about something with the only audible word being his favorite. It was time to consider the possibility she was really damned. This wasn't some fiction story with a fantastical way out but her ultimate fuck up. 

*** 

It was a lot to take in. He never really considered the fact that he couldn't remember when he was created when others could and now it bothered him. There were so many more questions with every passing minute. For the first time in his life he was concerned with more than tracking down his next lay. He was worried about dying, and this world, the one he'd only been passing through for centuries, was so much bigger than he could have ever imagined. 

That stupid war, which he thought of more as a fable, started playing over. Backtracking through the paths his life had taken led to a rather large wall full of holes. He remembered traveling to places like the library at Alexandria, but not what it was that led him there. The more he thought the more blanks he found. All those things behind that door, all having to do with lost arts, and he suddenly could not figure out why the hell he had them. What if it had to do with the war? What if he was part of it? How much was he missing? 

After a few minutes of rapid introspection he remembered Annabel was still there. Oddly, all the connections he had with this world now, she was his anchor. She appeared pale sitting on the floor at the foot of his bed, and her hair looked like spilled ink on the soft white carpet beneath her. They'd hit a wall of unknown he didn't think was possible after being around for...how long. Ok that was going to keep bugging him. 

Damien moved towards her and silently slid to the ground beside her. There were two ways this could go down: he could kill her and have complete control over the connection she gave to him or they were in this together. Together was definitely the better option. 

"What do you think I am?" He asked quietly. 

"A demon." 

"Really? You think I generally roam around some freakishly hot place red-skinned with horns and hooves and stick people with a pitch fork because they were naughty?" 

Annabel laughed in spite of herself. 

"Need a visual?" 

"No." She whispered shaking her head. "But no one here knows what hell or heaven is." 

"And maybe now you'll never know. You can't miss something you never had." 

"But that's just it...I think I did." Annabel answered with a slight hitch in her voice. 

Damien took a deep breath, a habit he'd picked up from hanging with humans for the past few millennia, and pried his carefully guarded psyche open. If they were in this together he was going to have to prove that to her. 

"I don't even know what I am, Annabel. Apparently part of that is because I'm missing a large part of me. I wouldn't know that if I hadn't met you." He smiled at her then, an unsure smile. "I don't think even Aaron knows what we are and we know he doesn't know what is going to happen. I can promise it's not going to happen tomorrow. It may not even happen in the next hundred years. I have things to show you now though." 

She focused on him them, black eyes sparking with the curiosity he'd grown so fond of. "Like what." 

"Lost civilizations, sea monsters, magic, another world...five thousand years' worth of things. I have one thing to show you right now though." 

He felt her eyes as he rose and moved toward his door, her thoughts focusing on the things he refused to tell her over the past week. He was a creature of his word. Even without the deal he meant to fulfill his end of the bargain. A gentle request and the door opened silently revealing all of his secrets. Not even Jonathan had seen this. Not even the ever inquisitive Aaron had seen this or so he'd lamented a little earlier. 

He went to the table in the center and picked up the blade that rested in wicked silence there. It might be inanimate but that didn't mean it didn't have a strange life of its own and he could feel it. It held secrets he couldn't pry from the material, but it wasn't made for him. 

He picked it up cautiously. There was no fear of breaking, but this was his death which would make anyone who enjoyed not be dead a little nervous. The blade came to a very sharp tip on the death dealing end and thickened to the width of his palm near the hand. There was no guard. The handle was wrapped in black leather that had been treated with some spell and was too slender of a grip for a large man. He always wondered if the blades had been made for their owners or if Hunters were just always dainty. It was perfect for Annabel. 

He turned back toward her and her dark eyes widened suddenly as she started scrambling backwards. A flurry of fear and hurt slammed into him before he had a chance to assuage her fear. Ice sped through his core, a painful freeze stopping him in his tracks. The strength that held him now made his first experience with her seem like child's play. 

He reached out in his own words. The blade was hers. It was the key to everything she was...maybe. The uncertainty was what made her withdraw, and he was prepared to thank even God that the ice that flooded him retreated. Her power had a painful note he wasn't used to in it. 

"I see you don't trust me." 

"Can you blame me?" She still eyed him warily, her little trick not far from her mental fingertips. 

"Yes, actually, I can. I've done nothing to incur this. I've always been straight forward with you." He watched her eyes narrow, "Regardless, you're stuck with me. I die, you die. Now can I show you this?" Damien ended a little bitterly. He finally opens up completely to someone and she tosses him about like a punch doll. 

Bitch. 

The look on her face a second later made him realize he'd said that last word...technically. 

"I'm new at this. You're going to have to give me some time." 

"You're 5,000 years old and I'm going to have to give you some time?" She snapped. "And new at what?" 

"Connecting to someone." Damien held the pommel of the blade in one hand leaving enough room for her to grab it from the bottom. 

"That's not how you hand a blade to someone." 

"That's how I hand this blade to you. There is only one thing that can kill me and you're about to be holding it." 

*** 

Annabel started to speak and stopped; her mouth still open. The strange simple blade he held away from him as much as out to her was familiar somehow. She moved to take it before she noticed the way the world was distorted around it and halted. Most people would have missed it as the warped space barely crested the surface of the blade, but she somehow knew where to look. This was migration to the butterfly, but she wasn't a butterfly. The fact she suddenly knew, in a sense, the blade and that it was part of who she was clashed with reality. Damien might have clashed with her reality too, but at least she could see him. This was...more. 

"Take it." 

She shook her head and backed away. 

"I thought you wanted to know everything." He said as he lowered his hand slightly. 

"It makes me feel like I'm not me." 

Purpose had always been a thing for him. He was convinced humans were always so lost because they lacked purpose, but the way she backed away made him question such simple thoughts. It was strange to see how small he was even with all the years he had accumulated. 

"It's not you. I know that especially the way I know you now. It is a part of you though and...we made a deal." 

Annabel took a deep breath and slid her fingers around the pommel. When he released it the lightness surprised her. She'd never held a sword before, but it felt right. Jeeze it was weird. 

"Feel anything?" 

"It's lighter than I thought." 

"That's it?" he frowned. 

"Dude, it's just a blade." She moved it closer to her, studying the way it reflected nothing. That must have something to do with the distortion. 

"I always had this theory there was more to it, but I guess I was wrong." 

Something flickered in the dark surface and Annabel thought for a moment she'd been wrong about the lack of reflection. It moved though, a flash of images revealing a story to her. A man, dark of skin and eye with a cold, cold heart died. A flash of green and a taste of hate then the image was gone. 

"You...killed him." 

"What?" 

Annabel held the blade in front of her protectively though it was purely out of instinct. She had no intention of using it. 

"The man like me...you killed him." 

Damien nodded. "Yeah that happened. He was pretty intent on ending me and this was after the war. I was no threat." 

Annabel looked sadly. "There's always a threat." She let the blade fall to her side. "I can see why you didn't want to tell me anything." 

"It's not an issue now." He laughed to himself. "Now." 

"What about now?" She asked walking to his little shrine to place the peculiar weapon in its place. 

"Between the bullshit Aaron just pulled and you, now has a whole new meaning. We have now. What do you want to do with now, Annabel?" 

"I need to go my apartment." 

"Shit, girl. We can go anywhere. We can do anything. What do you want to do with right now?" 

She walked over to the bed and sat down. Life as she knew it was gone. In the wake of the last few hours a new life had invaded hers. It was an invasion she accepted but an invasion no less. She could say she lost everything, but the truth was that she only lost something. But still she did have an unbelievable control of now. Anywhere. Anything. What did she want to do? 




Damien Night Ch. 08



"Scotland. I want to go to Scotland and see a fairy." 

"Scotland it is. Fairy..." he grimaced "maybe not so much." 

"The void?" 

"Well if it's here it's not in Scotland is it." Damien smirked. "And we'll swing by your apartment on the way." 

"Do fairies exist?" She asked. 

"Never seen one, but then I never looked." He held out his hand. There were no planes to take or bags to pack. If she was damned it was certainly the moment to live it up. After all, now as all she had.



Damien Night



Annabelle was surprised at herself. Maybe it was all the talks with her Gram, but now that the initial shock had worn off she was managing to keep her wits about her. If she was doomed to inadvertently attract the attention of a demon, she could have ended up with much worse. Stories of beings, both sinister and benevolent, ran through her head. They fed on humans, each needing different things in different ways ranging from unimaginable acts of horror to completely undetectable. She wasn't certain where in that scale this Damien fell under but she had a feeling it wasn't the latter end. Still, since he didn't want to kill her, as long as she had that amulet on she should be fine. She told herself she could ignore the way he made her pulse dance. Bolstered by that knowledge, she whirled on him.

"Trust a demon? That's rich." She scoffed, locking eyes with him. His fiery emerald gaze was a little more than she was prepared for, but she forced herself to hold it.

The thought of killing her flicked across his brain. She was a hell of a lot stronger than he'd suspected. She'd make one good hunter if someone trained her which didn't bode well for his kind, but in five thousand years he could count on one hand the number of times something had been denied him. He wasn't going to add to it. He held his position, making a show of enjoying the way the towel enhanced her cleavage.

"Suit yourself, but understand I'm not leaving until I get what I want."

"Really?" Annabelle let out the breath she didn't realize she was holding which didn't help her position. The moment she inhaled, that warm sweet smell, like cinnamon but not, invaded her senses and drove her heart rate faster. It was an unfair advantage, but, apparently, she had an advantage of her own. Her hand twitched off the amulet.

"I wouldn't." Damien didn't flinch, though it took every ounce of willpower he had not to. "I may not be able to touch you but I can certainly make your life a living hell."

"And how do I know you don't plan on doing that anyway?" She asked.

"You don't, but I guarantee you'll regret it if you lay one fucking finger on me."

She backed away, her earlier assessment of 'could have ended up with much worse' faltering a little.

"OK, I can't make you leave, but you are not getting whatever it is that you want. This necklace stays put." Annabelle lifted her chin defiantly, trying to resummon the courage she'd found earlier but coming up short.

He found it cute, the way she tried to stand up to him. With a satisfied sigh he settled himself on the only seat in the room and made a show of getting comfortable. He watched her chin drop slowly as she threw an errant glance around the tiny bathroom finally falling on the t-shirt and panties she'd tossed on top of the hamper and then to the towel wrapped tightly around her. It was sinking in, just what it meant when he said he wouldn't leave.

"Who says I'm not getting what I want?" he asked with a Cheshire grin that looked downright evil when coupled with those strange eyes.

So she'd just lost her privacy. Lovely! At least she was a boring person. Other than seeing her naked she couldn't divine any other reason to hold his attention for very long. As soon as he got his fill of her bare flesh he'd go find some he could touch. A week at most for sure. Her lips curved into a mischievous smile of her own.

"Oh, you want to torture yourself? Have fun with that." She said sarcastically, unceremoniously dropping the towel as she headed to the clothes she'd laid out for the night.

Damien took in every detail, the fall of her breasts, the shape of her ass marked with black streaks of hair, and the way it rounded above her thighs. His eyes followed the hourglass curve from her shoulders through her waist and past her hips, and finally down the length of the legs he was not going to have wrapped around him tonight. She was right, it was torture, but he'd be lying if he said he wasn't enjoying it.

"So when was the last time you gave someone the pleasure of that body?"

The very simple approval in his tone only served to complicate her emotions further. She gave up acting like she didn't care he was there and yanked on the t-shirt and panties while steadfastly ignoring him.

"You can't ignore me, Belle." He continued as she attempted to lay a line of paste down on her tooth brush.

"My name isn't Belle." She answered in a flat tone.

"Neither is Siren, so what's it short for?" When she did not answer he started guessing, slowly. "Isabella? Isabelle? Belladonna? Arabelle? Annabelle?" He noted the subtle reaction to his last guess and stopped right there. "Annabelle. Pretty. So, Annabelle, how long has it been?"

"I don't know, a year." She snapped as she rinsed the brush and slammed it into the holder waiting for whatever line he was going to lay on her.

"Shame." He said with a shrug.

"What?!" She whipped out with an about face. "That I don't want some guy putting his paws all over me?"

"You obviously care." He went on calmly, recalling the muscle definition across her back. "It shows."

"And it's for me." She said quietly. With that Annabelle left the bathroom and moved to the bedroom so she could collapse on the little full-sized bed. She waited for him to follow her, to say something, but the silence stretched on until she realized he was gone. She drifted off thinking maybe it was just a dream.

***

He'd passed the remainder of the night in his lair, going back through every moment of their time together. He wasn't seeking cracks in her defences. Not being able to touch a woman was no hindrance to getting her pants off. Touch was the culmination of foreplay, not the beginning. His curiosity led him to wonder what would make her not just give in, but lose complete control.

So it had been a year. Generally that meant 'candy from a baby' easy, but she wasn't longing. She was expertly avoiding. He suspected she was limiting complications. Little Annabelle had enough trudging through a life she wasn't born for. Now she'd just attracted one more, and it stood at the foot of her bed watching the sun creep across her body as it rose.

God damn necklace, he thought ruefully.

Annabelle stirred, that familiar 'out of place' feeling dragging her to a grating resemblance of consciousness. There was no ignoring it this time; she knew exactly what it meant. Insane or not there was a demon somewhere near. Her eyes opened slowly in an attempt to let them adjust to the intrusive sunlight, and the blurry figure of a man watching her as he leaned across the ancient dark wood of her footboard greeted her. She rubbed her eyes once to make sure he was there then jumped when he came into focus. Instead of the black hair and pale skin she was expecting, it was hair the color of sand-the really pretty stuff they trucked in for the tourist-with a matching goatee and a tan. 

Her breath came a little faster as nerves kicked in. The last thing she needed was another one to deal with, but if there was one than there were bound to be more right? She sat up slowly waiting for him-it?-to do something, but there was absolutely no movement. It was unnerving. She absently touched the little pendent against her chest as she tried to figure out what she was going to do next. The movement drew the eyes, green eyes. In the sunlit room they threw off no light, but they were unmistakably the same.

"So you can change your appearance." Annabelle said as she rolled over. There was no reason whatsoever for her to be awake at this ungodly hour. A sideways glance at the clock by the bed only made things worse. The only time she ever saw the sun rise was on her way to sleep.

"Yes." She was relieved to hear his voice sounded the same for some reason. "If it's not appealing I can change it. Any man you could possibly desire. Interesting potential there, no?"

"No." she snapped.

"Not a morning person, apparently."

She dismissed a couple of biting sarcastic remarks and then an idea hit her. Rolling back over, she flashed him a beautiful smile.

"No, just not into men."

"Really." Damien said thoughtfully as he stood up. "I didn't get that vibe from you last night."

Damn. She did nearly melt into a puddle for him at the top of the stairs. "The hair." She shrugged. "And I'm female. Always a sucker for a good seduction line right? Now, do you mind if I get some more sleep? It's only been a few hours since the last time you bothered me, and you may not need it but I do." She finished, rolling back over to signify that she was done talking to him.

The bed seemed to sink as if she suddenly weighed more causing her to readjust to her back while she attempted to figure out what was going on. Then he was just there supporting himself on all fours over her. Her hand covered her mouth and nose, eyes wide. The action was a complete shock, even knowing he wasn't human didn't prepare her for that trick, but it had little to do with why her hand went where it did.

"What's the matter, Annabelle?" He asked quietly.

She shut her eyes and tried to tell her lungs they could wait a bit longer but they weren't listening. She'd been nearly out of breath before he'd pulled his little manoeuvre. The last time he was this close to her she barely managed to maintain a coherent thought after that first tantalizing breath, but prolonging this was no use. She gave in with a little gasp, his scent filling her and messing with her head. She tried to shake it off.

"Get off, Damien." She bit out through gritted teeth. It was meant as a threat but sounded more like a plea.

He watched the skin of her slender neck and across her collar bones turn the color of a good blush wine, heard the pace of her heart quicken, and suddenly regretted being this close without being able to take advantage of it.

"It doesn't work on someone who isn't amenable to it the first place." He commented as he continued to observe the effect his proximity was having on her.

She opened her eyes to find his only inches away. As unsettling as that gaze of his was, his lips were far more dangerous to her at the moment. She wanted a taste. She was damn near ready to sell her soul for it, and she was determined to convince herself that's what it meant. There was nothing harmless about the creature hovering over her now.

"Pressing your luck aren't you?" She asked, trying to distract herself.

"I'm betting you won't press yours." He answered without hesitation.

"What do you want, Damien?" A hint of alarm slipped into her voice.

His head dropped lower, achingly close, and every quickened breath made it harder to remind herself that giving in would only lead to disaster. Pressing her thighs tightly together in response to her growing need, she ran the tip of her tongue against the edge of her bottom lip focusing on what his lips would feel like against hers. Her eyes drifted closed as her hand closed over the pendent.

"Why don't you take that thing off and find out, Annabelle." He whispered.

'Never take it off, Annabelle. Promise your old grandmother you'll never take it off.'

The warning came back to her, strengthening what little resolve she had left. She pressed herself into the mattress and turned her head, pulling as far away as possible.

"I promised." The words passed her lips with no sound, but it must have been enough. A second later the room was empty, an emptiness that begged to be filled.

Annabelle opened her eyes hoping for relief but only finding frustration and need. If his intentions were to drive her completely mad then he was succeeding. For a second time she was forced to reconsider her earlier evaluation of the situation. She could not ignore what he did to her. Without even touching her he did more than any man had in a very long time, and it wasn't helping that it had been such a long time. She had her reasons; one of them being there was nothing she couldn't do just fine, if not better, alone. 

And she was alone. The evidence was nearly tangible in her current state. Hopefully he was off somewhere cursing her name, though why he stopped when she was so obviously ready to give in was beyond her. It was a pointless train of thought, however. The only thing that mattered right now was satisfying the craving coursing through her body, then sleep, and nothing else.

Under the light shimmery fabric of her green and gold comforter she slid her t-shirt up under her arms exposing her breasts to the cool underside of her sheets. Having no idea when he'd decide to pop back in added another since of urgency as she grasped her rigid nipples between the thumb and index finger of each hand sighing softly at the touch. Her body responded instantly, her long slender legs brushing together in anticipation. Her right hand drifted down the plain of her stomach as she parted her knees. She traced lines along her inner-thighs with her nails, teasing herself, before sliding her middle finger beneath the line of her panties. The cotton was cool against the back of her finger, and drenched. It also limited what she could do so she kicked them off and gently slid two fingers within her sex, concentrating on the sensation and trying like hell not to think of Damien and whatever he wanted from her.

Somewhat reluctantly she withdrew her fingers. Normally penetration meant nothing to her but she wanted him. She let herself imagine his hips pressed between hers, the feel of his cock invading her, as her fingers slid across her clit. She pressed her nails into her a nipple with her free hand, relishing the pain as much as the pleasure as she quickly brought herself to the precipice of climax. Her body tensed, her toes curling and then she cried out as the sweet release washed over her like shock waves from a small explosion. Annabelle lay still, listening to the sound of her ragged breaths, hoping she'd managed to pull that off while still alone. Thankfully the room was empty and, smiling, she drifted off.