Twin Souls in the Night
Chapter 1 (rewrite) (Incomplete)
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.
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
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
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
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
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.
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
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,
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
“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.