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Tobias Apollyon

Twin Souls in the Night

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This is a preview of my upcoming novel, Twin Souls in the Night.  All material copywritten, so no stealing ^_^.  Send all opinions and feedback to my e-mail.  Thank you.

Twin Souls in the Night

Chapter 1 (rewrite) (Incomplete)

 

Crack!

The snap of a twig brought him to attention.  It wasn’t the scurried sound an animal would make as it ran for cover, but the almost-stealth movements of a predator stalking its prey.  He didn’t like being prey.

Keeping his movements casual, he continued through the forest, pulling one of his silver daggers from the pouch at his side.  He’d been walking through the forest, simply enjoying his solitude for hours.  Now his home was being threatened.  He would deal with the intruder accordingly.

Seeking out with his mind, he found nothing but the minds of animals.  That left only a few options for what this intruder could be; either a warlock, vampyre, or one of the newly discovered Psionics.  He didn’t like the idea of it being either one, but he knew it wasn’t one of his own kind.  The three there were of his race were scattered across the world, hiding out from their creator until they could be in a position to take him down.  But that was neither here nor there.  The one thing that he could feel that helped him to gain a general location on the intruder was the intent to follow.  It wasn’t that of a normal predator, but that of a calculating, intelligent being.  He was being hunted.

As he continued walking, he started flipping the dagger into the air, catching it as it fell back to his hand.  Luckily, these daggers were only lined with the purest of silver, seeing as it wasn’t the strongest of metals.  The core of the blade was made of titanium, stolen from a research facility by him and his “brothers” years earlier.  He had designed the daggers to be most effective against vampyres, but they would still work against the mortals, warlocks and Psionics.

With this in mind, he shimmied the blade a bit until the silver lining slid silently off.  It was now a simple, six-inch throwing knife.  No less deadly in his hands, though.

Passing close to a tree, he let his hand slide along it.  To anyone else it might have looked as though her were just admiring nature at its best, but for the warlocks and Psionics, they would have sensed the subtle, almost non-existent shift in energy.  He’d pulsed a small wave of energy onto the outside of the tree, which would then bury itself into the outer layers of the tree itself.

He kept walking forward, still tossing the dagger at random moments.  When he was far enough away, he held his hand over the dagger in his hand, charging it with a wave of energy opposite to the energy he’d used on the tree, creating a magnetic link between the two.  Instantly, the dagger tried to wrench out of his hand and fly to the tree, but he held it still easily.

A little further away, he blasted a large wave behind him, using it like an echolocation that dolphins used to “see” underwater.  He had timed it just right.  The intruder was just rounding the tree, standing dead center of the bull’s eye fifty feet away.

With a speed that nearly defied reality, he turned and launched the dagger at the other being.  The being—a vampyre, if this person’s speed was anything to go by—barely moved before the blade hit the tree, but was unsuccessful in avoiding the dagger completely.  The blade stabbed into the vampyre’s left shoulder, just above the bone.  The vampyress’ arm went limp as muscle was torn through.

“Ahh!”

The scream was that of a female.  The vampyress stuck to the tree immediately tried to remove the dagger, pulling on the edge of the handle, but would be unable to remove it if and until he reverse the energy he’d placed there—or unless she was able to remove the foot of tree that the energy occupied.

He arrived in front of her with a quick burst of speed.  The woman’s fangs had lengthened and were visible with each grunting scream she gave as she continuously tried—and failed—to remove the dagger.  Finally, she sagged against the tree, glaring daggers at him, pun not intended.

“Good evening to you, madam.  Might I have the pleasure of your name?”  He kept his voice and smile pleasant, almost casual, but he knew the little vampyress could turn violent at any moment.  Her eyes were already beginning to glow as bloodlust started to affect her with the scent, and loss, of her blood.

“Fuck off,” she said through gritted teeth, her chest heaving as she fought off the pain in her shoulder.  She was not very tall for a field operative, maybe five-foot four at the most, but he knew the strength of a vampyre. 

He backhanded her with a nonchalance that almost made him grimace.  He hated hurting woman, of any race.  But he needed to show this little one that he had the upper hand and it was his word that would be obeyed.  She could either acquiesce, or she would die, as simple as that.

It seemed as if she’d read that truth in his eyes as she looked at him from under thick lashes.  True fear clouded her face, making her eyes go haunted as she shifted her stance, preparing to fight to the death.

He held up his hand, binding her in place with a simple wave of energy.  The nickname his “brothers” had come up for him was The WaveRider, seeing as he was a master of using bursts and waves of energy in his energy workings.  Josh was called the Point Man, because of his ability to control pinpoint energy with deadly accuracy.  His was the more violent of the three of them, and yet the easiest to control.  His third brother, Azrael, was called The Bomb, for his ability was the most destructive of them all.  He controlled energy on a magnitude that would make the A-bomb seem like a firecracker.  His power was the most feared and he was therefore the most hunted of the three.  There was only one other being that rivaled his destructive capabilities, a Psionic by the name of Sarah Jade, and even her powers were rumored about.  It was said that she was so powerful that she could wipe out an entire base just by her will alone.

Returning to the present, Talon focused on the vampyress.  He sent his mind out, focusing on her mind.  Her barriers were strong, reinforced by the added blood of an ancient vampyre, but after a moment he slid past them a bit to learn what he needed.  She was out to follow him, blindly stalking him on her master’s orders.  He wasn’t able to read who her master was, but he didn’t need to.  Only a select few new about him and his brothers.  Leonily had finally tracked him down.

She was young, maybe a half century old, only a few years older than he was, and yet she was adept in her ways.  She must have either been a pure blood or was a pure blood turn.  He suspected it was the latter seeing as she couldn’t control her own emotions enough not to panic.  And she was definitely panicking now, seeing as he’d had to push violently past her mental barriers to get at the information he’d needed, and caused her serious pain in the process.

He released the magickal energy from around her and turned his back to her.  “Well, the sun will be up in little less than an hour, so see ya.”  And with that, he took to the sky, riding a wave of energy that turned his body weightless.

She screamed at him, and he could sense that she was again tugging on the dagger.  The binding spell he’d used on it was a variation of his own.  It took a basic binding spell, which involved physically touching someone and the object one wished to bind them to, but instead, he used a magnetic opposite to physically bind a  person to an object, i.e., the tree and dagger.  The energy would disperse eventually now that he was no longer feeding it, but not quickly enough to save the young vampyress. 

And that was a waste, because she was truly a lovely creature.  Her dark, raven-black hair was highlighted with a metallic blue, and her silver-green eyes were dazzling.  Her body, though small, had been encased in full-body black leather, which accentuated very shapely curves.  He could almost imagine what it would feel like to touch her…

He landed on a tree nearby, caught by the way his thoughts were turning.  The scent of her blood drew him, just as her haunting beauty, only on a much deeper level.  It wasn’t something he’d dealt with before, and this new experience was not something he needed to have at this particular moment in time.  Having erotic thoughts about a vampyress that was out to hunt him should not be happening, and yet there it was.  He couldn’t deny it.

But, as he’d been trained with pain, he continued the tradition.  He removed a dagger from his pouch and slowly slashed at his left shoulder, admonishing himself in his mind as well as aloud, using the pain to program his mind against such thoughts.  As he replaced the dagger at his side, he turned to see that the young vampyress was taking deep breaths, looking as though she’d given up on pulling the dagger and was waiting to embrace the killing dawn.

Then she lurched forward, ripping the dagger from her shoulder, severing the muscle there completely, her arm now totally useless as she fell to the ground with a wrenching sob.  She screamed at the pain, and he winced as his natural empathy tried to overwhelm him with her agony.  But he was adept at keep emotions and such other forms of energy at bay, so with a quick shift in the air around him, he erected a barrier strong enough to block out her pain.  Now he was left with just her racking sobs and watching her squirm and hold her right hand to the wound in an effort to hold off the bleeding until it healed.  And it would heal, soon.  He could already see the blood starting to ebb.

Once his eyes caught at the blood, he couldn’t look away.  He was held by its rich smell, the vivid red as it flowed down her arm.  He ran his tongue over his teeth longingly.  Though he didn’t have the extremely long fangs of a vampyre, his kind still had longer canines than humans, kinda like those of a feline.  Their teeth were all sharp and they could bite through damn near anything when they needed to.

He felt his smaller version of the vampyric fangs lengthen as he took the smell of her blood deep into him.  He really should leave, or at least finish her off, but something in him rebelled at the idea.  He contributed it to the flash of bloodlust that had come upon him at this inopportune moment.

Finally the vampyress was healed enough to stagger to her feet, though she then had to rest against the tree until she was able to get her bearings enough to find her way out of the forest.  They were pretty deep in the woods, about five miles in.  She would have to take blood from one of the local animals before she could make that trip.  He knew and liked all of the creatures of these woods, so he couldn’t let her do that.

Floating down from the tree, he landed on the ground about thirty feet from her.  “You’re tenacious, I’ll give you that.”  Her head flew up at the sound of his voice, her body immediately dropping into a fighters stance.  She already knew he had power over her, but she held a fighters spirit and wouldn’t go down without at least trying to fight back.  He found that rather endearing.

Mentally shaking himself, he calmly walked forward.  If she needed a fight before she died in order to go peacefully, he would grant her that.

Rather than back up as he had expected, she launched forward with a volley of kicks and punches that had him on the defensive and moving back himself.  She was fast, faster than any vampyress of her age should have been.  It must have been the ancient’s blood, he decided, and gleefully turned the tables and began attacking her, faking to his left and coming around with a right hook that sent her reeling back into the tree behind her. 

She went with the momentum, springing away from the tree to come at him again, this time wielding a vicious looking dagger that she had produced from somewhere.  He hadn’t seen the dagger until it was nearly too late.  As it was, the dagger grazed the front of the jacket he was wearing and tugged him slightly off balance.

Shaking his head at his own stupidity, he used the vampyress’ own speed against her as she swung the blade in quick, going for his heart this time.  He sidestepped the dagger and grabbed her wrist, twisting until she dropped it.

“Ah-ah, play fair, madam, otherwise I will be forced to cut our games short.”  He jerked her forward by her arm then slammed his palm into her chest, sending her backwards onto her romp.  She was gasping and rubbing her chest as she got shakily back to her feet.  There was a light in her eyes that she couldn’t quite keep hidden.  He knew it, because he felt the same elation in finally finding a combatant worthy of his own skills.

She began circling him then, her hips moving with a suggestiveness that was part of the vampyre’s naturally sexual nature.  He wondered what he could do with those hips, but then he berated himself as the vampyress flashed a grin and lunged at him with razor sharp claws.  He jumped back, blasting an “echo-wave,” as he called it, to “see” what was behind him.  He was two feet from a tree, so, using it, he jumped, turned midair, and kicked off the tree, sailing over the vampyress to land behind her.  He shifted to stiff-arm her, but she was no longer there.  He turned in confusion, but then his feet dropped out from under him as the little wench scissor-kicked him.  Fortunately for him, he turned enough so that he was lying on top of her, his much larger frame pinning hers to the ground.

“Ah, I’d say I won, madam,” he said with a cocky smile as he shifted to completely pin her arms and legs down.  She struggled against him, but he was much bigger than her, and even with the ancient’s strength running through her, she wasn’t a match for his own strength and gravity.

Again, his eyes were caught and held by the sight of her blood.  The flow had slowed to a slight drizzle, but it was still enough to entice him.  His kind didn’t necessarily need blood to survive, but they still held the cravings for it like their vampyric cousins.

He leaned down to her shoulder, unable to stop his tongue from sweeping over the wound.  Oh, God!  Her blood was sweeter than any ambrosia, and just as decadent.  The vampyress had stilled at his actions, but he didn’t have to look at her eyes to feel that her own bloodlust was nearly out of control.  Her body demanded blood, and her instincts would urge her to take his.

He could feel her fighting those instincts, even while he embraced his own nature.  She struggled desperately against him, hissing and growling all the while.  He didn’t really notice her struggles.  He leaned down and latched onto her shoulder, his fangs sinking deep.

Ecstasy was a living thing in him as her blood flowed into him.  He’d never tasted anything like it.  It was silk and honey and he felt his body react almost instantly, hardening to unbearable lengths.

He felt the vampyress shudder beneath him, the same ecstasy he was experiencing rebounding into her.  A small moan escaped her lips, then gave a feral growl then sank her own fangs down into his shoulder, right on top of the self-inflicted wound.

The pleasure of their feeding sent him over the edge as he continued to drink from her.  He’d heard of what could happen if two vampyres double-fed, but he’d never known it could be quite like this.  It felt as if every cell in his body were dancing with pleasure.

It was then he felt his brothers shifting around in his mind.  The three of them were eternally linked, and what one felt, the others could as well.  No doubt his he was broadcasting pretty loudly for them to have reached out to him across oceans.

It was this that brought him back to his senses.  He lifted his head, and was about to rise off of the vampyress, but then her lips met his and he was lost.  This was a new sensation as well, their blood mixing as their tongues battled for possession of the other’s mouth.  He settled himself over her, pushing her back down as a new form of lust grew in him.  He wanted—no, needed to take her.  To make her his, to claim her…

Where his brothers had failed to bring him back, his own instincts succeeded.  He launched himself to his feet, turning away from the temptation of her body.  He didn’t want nor need to claim her.  His own possessive nature was kicking his ass. 

He cursed himself vehemently.  “Leave these woods, vampyress, and never return.  Tell Leonily that I’ll never come back, and I’ll kill anyone who comes after me, including you.” 

And with that, he took to the skies, flying as fast as he could to escape himself as well as his destiny.

 

****

 

She couldn’t catch her breath.  There simply wasn’t enough oxygen to fill her lungs.  She just laid there, her mind a confusing mass of wants and desires she’d never experienced before.  Oh, yes, she’d experienced lust before, but never had it been this strong, not at this magnitude.  She wasn’t sure she could move again, but then his warning played through her mind in bits and pieces.

“…never return…Tell Leonily…never come back…including you…including you.”

Growling in frustration, she leapt to her feet.  She didn’t want to leave, but she knew better than to stay where she wasn’t wanted.  Besides, she needed to report in to Leonily and receive her punishment for failure. 

She sighed.  She really didn’t want to report in just yet.  She’d put it off for as long as she could, but in the end, she’d still have to deal with it.  But hell, better later, after she’d recuperated.  She winced as the pain in her shoulder became apparent.  She twisted it, moving it in a circle to work the kinks out of it.  The wound had healed, but the newly restored muscles still hurt.  Plus, even with that man’s blood in her system, she still needed to feed.  She’d lost a lot more blood than she needed to.

Remembering his blood, she had to will her fangs not to drop into her mouth and was pretty proud of herself when she didn’t lick her lips.  As it was, her body felt electrified with this new blood.  She actually felt as if a current were flowing through her veins.  That was a totally new experience for her.  She didn’t even feel like this when she shared blood with Leonily, and he was over six hundred years old, an ancient.

Shaking off the memory of what his blood tastes like, she looked around to orient herself, then called on her vampyric strength.  Power flooded her body as the new blood in her system was processed to fuel her with the energy she’d need to make the trek back to town.

Her eyes widened as she felt a heady rush come over her.  This was another new sensation, and not a bad one at that.  In fact, she felt more powerful than she ever had.  And that was… interesting, to say the least.  She could become addicted to this man… in more than one way, if she was honest with herself.  He had an incredible body, all rippling muscles and steel.  And he could easily match her in combat.  And his mental capabilities simply didn’t make sense at all to her.  He had the blood cravings of a vampyre, but he could control the energies of magick. 

Technically, she assumed he would be a vamp/warlock hybrid, but it was supposed to be impossible.  The way it was explained to her was that the viral agent in that person’s blood that made them vampyres could not handle the energy of magick.  The agent would try to reject the magick and therefore kill the host vampyre.  The same went for a warlock who was bitten.  Instead of changing the warlock as it would most humans, it would wind up destroying the host warlock.  But how could this man survive using those spells?

Frustrated that her master had kept something this vital from her, she allowed her muscles to tap out and took off running, reveling in her own strength.  She was moving at vampyres speed now, faster than normal human site could follow.  It was always surprising how powerful Leonily’s blood made her, but she was used to it by now.  But with this man’s blood now in her system, she felt damn near invincible.

She was out of the forest within minutes.  As she stepped out from the tree line, she stopped to rest on one of the picnic tables.  She wasn’t tired, just weary after the ordeal she’d gone through.  She was mentally wiped out and wasn’t doing too much better physically.

Crack!

She nearly leapt off the table at the sound of a twig snapping.  She turned quickly to see a tall man and a woman around her own height step from the woods.  She almost jumped off the bench and went into a battle-ready stance, until she recognized two of her closest allies and friends, Leo and Kiara Daratrazanoff, husband and wife of over four hundred years.

“Jeez, Leila, you still scare easily,” Kiara greeted her as she step close to give her a brief hug.  Kiara was around five foot six inches tall, her pale-blond hair reaching almost all the way down her back.  She always seemed to have a regal presence, no matter where she went or what she was doing.  It made one think of age old royalty and elegant parties, whereas her husband was a six foot plus giant who sported a goatee and could be easily described as a biker.  He completed the effect by wearing at least six piercing on his face and ears, and a black leather jacket and pants.  His black hair was always kept long, and always looked as though he’d just woken up.

Before Leila could reply, Kiara sniffed and looked at her shoulder, noticing the wound.  Her eyes went pitch-black and her face clouded over.  “What happened?!”

Leila quickly moved to sooth her friend, while also attempting to hide the wound.  “It’s nothing, I was attacked while tracking someone—by the way, what are you two doing out here?”

Kiara looked away, some color returning to her eyes.  “We were assigned to watch you, to report how you did on your first mission.  We thought it best to stay away while you were tracking your target, so we wouldn’t interfere.”  She finally met her eyes again, anger clear on her face.  “We should have stayed with you.  Dammit, what happened out there?”

Leila, struggling with how much to tell her friend, tried to thing how best to reply.  “Well—first, lets get back to headquarters.  I want to rest and I’ve lost a fair amount of blood.”

Kiara immediately stepped forward, offering Leila her wrist.  “Take what you need, my friend.”

Leila smiled softly at the woman who’d been there for her throughout her entire vampyric life.  “It’s okay, I’ll be fine for now.  All I need to do is get back to the HQ and tap into some of our reserves.”  She frowned as she thought about the blood now in her system.  She hadn’t thought about it at the time, but what would his blood do to her body?  Was there anything in his blood that would be harmful to her?  She needed to find out, and quick.  “Anyway, we have a situation, and I don’t want to take anyone’s blood for a while.  Don’t question me on this, just trust me.  Please.”

Recognizing the serious tone in her voice, Kiara hesitated only briefly then pulled back her arm.  “Okay, but you will fill us in on this later, correct?”

It wasn’t really a question, she knew, but still she nodded.  “Yes, I will need your help on this, I believe.  The first thing you and Leo could do for me is to find all the info you can on this guy I was following.  First name, Talon.  Last name, unknown.  Age, unknown.  Race…” here she hesitated, but only briefly enough to show her friends that she was confused, “unknown.”

Kiara’s and Leo didn’t show any surprise, though Leila was sure that after around four hundred years of living, they’d most likely perfected their facial expressions.

It was Leo who spoke next, and Leila was startled to hear his voice.  He rarely spoke, unless they were in closed doors, for some paranoid reason Leila couldn’t understand.  “Hmm, so you say you’re unsure of what he is?  Or is it deeper than that?”

Leila hesitated, remembering his fangs and powers, but shook it off and shrugged.  “Deeper.  But let’s get indoors before we discuss this further.”

Her friends nodded, and she jumped down from the table to follow them.  It would normally take only a few minutes to get back to their temporary HQ, but she was excessively tired and had drained more energy than she’d realized, so she decided a nice walk through town would be just what she needed.

At one point during their walk, Kiara finally saw the extent of the healed wound on her shoulder—though she missed the fang marks, thank God—when Leila’s jacket sagged off of it.  She hissed out her breath as she grabbed at her friend jacket to view the scar more closely, but Leila pulled back, reassuring her friend that it hadn’t been that bad.

“It was only a dagger, and it wasn’t silver.  He threw it and stuck me to a tree.”  She paused and looked around, nervous all of a sudden standing out in the open as they were.  “Come on, I promise I’ll explain everything once we’re at the house.”

Leila could see her best friend fight off the anger and—she didn’t really want to put a name to it, but she had to be honest with herself—her own bloodlust.  The bloodlust of a vampyre grew over time, depending on many variables, such as their power and, mostly, sexual activity.  Sometimes the bloodlust of someone who is very active sexually will be very strong, but other times it was a conscious choice to embrace it.  It didn’t help Leila that Kiara wanted to be more than her friend.  Leo didn’t have anything against it either, which wasn’t any help to Leila in fending off Kiara’s recently more subtle advances.  Especially since Kiara was one of the most powerful female vampyres alive.

Ignoring Kiara as she eyed Leila’s shoulder and the dried blood there, Leila continued on, fully aware of the pheromones her friend was unconsciously putting off.  It had become regular habit for Leila to fight them, and Kiara, off, even when she felt the pull of vampyric passion and promise.  She almost groaned at the feel, but she was used to it after a couple of years.  After all, Kiara had only tried to pursue her recently.

Suppressing a sigh, Leila carried herself forward, grateful when a breeze carried the pheromones away from her.  After a moment, Kiara caught up to her, muttering an apology.

Pain is fleeting, Death is eternal.