The Angel...Of Death

Weary. That was the single word which echoed in my mind as I sat in the dimly lit club. The smoky atmosphere making it seem even darker than the night outside. People walking past me, some coming within inches of where I sat but none saw me. It was childs play for me to hide from human sight, a trait learned long ago, perfected over time.

Parlor tricks, a simple matter after so many years. Only being seen when I so deemed it necessary. Sitting there, watching the minions, their clumsy mating rituals in full force. Doms seeking their prey, the weak seeking the strong. I too had a need, one I hadn't allowed myself to feed upon for far too long.

I almost laughed, the opening bars of a song performed by a band who it seemed had endured the test of time almost as well as I. "Sympathy For the Devil" filling the crowded room with even more sound, turning loud into deafening. A smile playing on the corner of my lips. Compared to the life I had lived, the devil...was an amateur.

The decades, nay, the centuries had passed and I had survived. I had been hunted through the years. From a time when weapons involved the ridiculous to the sublime. Wooden stakes and crosses giving way to silver projectiles, fired from the latest glut of automatic weapons, favored by the new breed of vampire hunters.

Closing my eyes I forced myself to remember the last time I had allowed the beast within to get the best of me. Ever since that night my enforced rest during the day had been filled with visions of what had transpired. Dreams painted in blood, today forcing me to awaken, the need so painful as to entice me to endure the remaining light at dusk. I had sworn I would never allow the animal within to surface in such a way but one thing was certain, I was as much a prisoner to him as he was...to me.

I could feel the tension in my body, every muscle taut, the call of the night filling my mind. With a deep breath I fought to relax, to will the desire to subside but as I slowly opened my eyes I found to my surprise that I was no longer alone.

The woman who sat across from me was not dressed like most of the fairer sex in the establishment. They favored leather and lace while she went for more of a, shall I say, rustic look. Her worn suede jacket and jeans clashed a bit with the three inch heeled boots she wore, still the look favored her. The garments rather masculine in tone yet there would be no mistaking her for such. Her body carried a raw sensuality to it, like that of an animal, one stalking its prey.

I took in her physical features, her body lithe and muscular, her chestnut hair worn short, framing her face. It was her eyes though that drew me in. I had read in older times where the eyes are the window to the soul and if this were true, then hers promised...death. It was a soul which in her case caused a man like even I to shudder.

On the table before her was a glass of red wine, a merlot, the color reminding me of the very bane of my existence. I sat there motionless as she lifted her own glass to her lips, her white wine in stark contrast of the glass of red sitting there. She put the glass down slowly, looking up, her hazel orbs seemingly staring directly into mine.

Unmoving, I watched as she opened her mouth to speak. Her voice was soft, barely above that of a whisper. No one in the room could have possibly heard what she had to say with the exception of one, me.

"Don't worry, no one can see you, only I...in a manner of speaking. It's a talent I was given at birth, all thanks to you, Jonathan Samuels."

She could have physically struck me and not brought about such a reaction as she had done by calling me such. I had gone by many names, many different lifetimes but she had addressed me by the name I was born with, my Christian name.

She must have sensed she struck a nerve, a laugh escaping her lips though her eyes reflected no such mirth. "Oh, I know quite a bit about you Mr. Samuels, much more than you can ever imagine. Here, let me tell you a tale."

She took yet another drink from her glass, confident in the fact I was going nowhere. In reality I could not have done so even if I had so dared desire. I felt paralyzed, incapable of motion. An emotion filling me, one I'd never deemed might exist in my lifetime, fear.

"Think back good sir, four centuries in time. A woman, a common streetwalker, the oldest profession if you will. In London, a woman with a body not only full of promise but also seed...your seed. You used her body like most but you had other needs as well. To your dismay though you were unable to finish the task. Do you remember?"

I did, the vision of the beauty beneath me. My physical needs met, her head turned to one side, the skin glowing in the dim light. I'd just had time to pierce the skin, the bite quick, sharp, painful but interrupted by a pounding on the door. There was only time to melt into the shadows, my taste, my task unfulfilled, my deepest hunger unabated.

The hunter's eyes shining, amber in the dark, standing mere inches from where I stood yet unseeing. Finally turning and taking the woman in his arms, carrying her from this place and from me. I had never seen her again.

"She lived in spite of you. She lived long enough to give birth to a child, my great, great, great grandmother. Each succession has brought forth a daughter into the family line. From one to the next, growing stronger with special traits, talents bestowed upon them all thanks to you. A gift which has manifested itself in the woman before you. A gift that will allow me to finally fulfill the prophecy and put an end...to you."

Only then did I fully realize who the dark haired stranger before me was. There had been whispers, rumors abounding through the night of a woman whose path had left countless dead. Those who had been deemed indestructible now vanquished for all time. Words had been spoken, a single initial, X heard but she had become known best as The Angel...of Death.

I could not help it. I was not even aware that it was happening, her presence, her words combining to leave me reeling and I allowed my self imposed mask to slip. With that like a picture slowly swimming into focus I appeared before her and all eyes.

It was only when I saw my own reflection in her hazel orbs did I realize the error of my ways. Quickly, I cloaked my presence yet again but not before I heard, "I read in her journal of how handsome you were. The years have been kind to you Jonathan Samuels, you've hardly aged at all."

Her laughter was cold, loud and I felt the flush rise to my face. A combination of anger and embarrassment, though I'm not sure which more than the other. All I knew for sure was that I felt completely out of control, helpless, yet another human emotion I had never dreamed to encounter.

She leaned over the table, her eyes now as dark as the night. "You can make this easy or hard but the outcome is inevitable. No matter where you hide I will find you." Standing in her heels, seemingly towering over me she dropped a card on the table before turning to leave. Stopping suddenly, she glanced back over her shoulder and passed along a few final words of wisdom.

"Know this, the more difficult you make this, the more you will suffer and I do so enjoy seeing a creature like you...suffer. You have 24 hours", and with that she was gone.

I don't remember leaving the bar, walking the streets. My mind consumed by thoughts of what had transpired. The evening like my mood, dark, stormy. I caught a reflection in a storefront, a young woman looking my way. I turned, crossing the distance between us in a blink of an eye. My hand reaching up, touching her face gently and saying, "I am a monster m'lady, do you find me as such?"

As all had before her through the combination of touch, the sound of my voice and the look in my eyes I watched as hers quickly clouded and with a voice filled with passion said in reply, "No m'lord, how may I serve you?"

I left my fingertip trail from her cheek down to her neck, her eyes closing in pleasure. My hand on her throat, her jugular, the pulse vibrant and alive, the promise of blood awaiting. She almost purred, her eyes now tightly shut, her breasts heaving, a sexual primal awakening like never before.

With a sigh, I let my arm fall and seconds later her eyes slowly fluttered open, a combination of confusion and desire mixed within them. She spoke haltingly saying, "I, I don't understand?"

I forced a smile to my face, my hand moving with a bit of a magician's flourish before her eyes while saying, "Your lover is a lucky man Angelique. Go to him now and give him that which you would have gladly bestowed upon me."

The woman nodded stiffly before turning and beginning to make her way toward her appointed rendezvous. As I watched her I had no way of knowing that we had not been alone. The dark haired woman from the club had stood in the shadows, her weapon at the ready. She reached down, flipping the safety back on and if I might have witnessed the look of complete confusion on her face I might have smiled yet again.

All she knew was that if I had made any move she deemed inappropriate toward the stranger I had encountered she was more than willing to end this, right here, right now. She would have executed me on the spot, it was as simple as that. Now though she found herself in a bit of a quandary, wondering why.

She had not let slip about all of the various talents she had acquired from her bloodline through the years. In the club she sensed that I had not fed in quite sometime, my body weak from the lack of that which I required. She had been sure I would have given in to the basic instinct of the animal within but now, now she found herself questioning things. In that...she was not alone.

I looked up into the night sky, morning would soon be dawning and though I could easily survive it, there would be repercussions, ones I was not eager to experience. Instead I turned, intent on my destination, my own senses failing to tell me that I was being followed. It took scant time to arrive at my humble surroundings, usually a sight which left me feeling safe, a welcome sight but for some reason I felt nothing such.

Heavy in heart, I sat on the edge of the bed and slowly pulled the boots from my feet. Unbuttoning the silk shirt I wore, allowing the trousers to fall in a puddle at my feet all of this under the watchful eye of the woman who stood at the window, her eyes intent upon the scene before her.

Finally my body slipping between the sheets of silk, the blood red color in stark contrast to my skin. The combination of hunger, the onset of dawn and the encounter with the woman who even now stood in close proximity have left me exhausted, weakened to the point that no sooner did I lay down than sleep claimed me.

What happened next for my part is pure conjecture. I really can't say though the events in all probability played out in such a way. The door was child's play, the lock easily breached and seconds later she was inside. Her eyes were as easily accustomed to the dark as mine though as she approached she did so with her weapon drawn and ready.

She finally came to rest, standing beside my bed, looking down at the figure in repose. A silent sentinel looming over the motionless form, she could see my face in silhouette, caught between awake and dreaming, my self imposed slumber. Reaching down, she pulled the sheet down, my nakedness in full view and if I could have seen the look in her eyes I would have known it all too well. It was that of bloodlust.

I'm not sure how long she stood there, though I believe she was gone prior to the day coming to full view. If not, she would have witnessed that which I fear would have haunted her until her dying day. We are called the undead but in truth, we die each and every day. Aging through the years, a horrific sight, a final breath taken each morning, the body decaying to the point that it seemed an ill wind might send to dust.

Of course all things must come to pass and to die one must first live and as the sun began to set I took a breath, sitting up in bed. My dreams had been vivid ones, filled with the vision of the dark haired assassin and I knew that come twelve or so hours hence our story would be finished, one way or another.

As I dressed I let my mind roam, thinking, pondering, planning and as the moon rose high I stepped forth.

It was nigh the witching hour when I approached the address I had found on the card she had left. The house was dark, foreboding, the only illumination I could see coming from candles perched strategically in windows, casting shadows yet showing nothing. I approached the front door which stood wide open in welcome but I stopped as I heard a familiar voice say, "There is no need to cloak yourself any longer Jonathan Samuels...enter." and with a sigh I acquiesced and did.

The room was enormous yet sparsely furnished to say the least. A large four postered bed was placed near the fireplace, the single object there. She stood by the fire, a poker in one hand, stirring the embers. Her weapon of choice in her other, held loosely by her side.

Her voice as it had been the night before was soft, her body in darkness and light, a combination of fire and candlelight making it appear so. "A wise decision, coming here." I waved her words away, dismissing them before moving slowly across the floor as I saw her body grow tense.

I stopped, taking a deep breath and forcing myself to focus on the task at hand. Ever since I had awakened I had given thought to what might transpire, wondering if I might have judged her well and knowing if I had not I would pay dearly...with my life.

My voice was my own, I sensed she would see easily though any ruse to use any of my own abilities to cloud her judgment, knowing to do so would quickly seal my death sentence. I began to speak, my words calm yet projecting an air of calmness I must admit I did not feel while saying, "I propose...a wager m'lady."

Her eyes flickered, a brief look of surprise and I almost smiled as I saw her fight to recover. I would give her no quarter though as I looked to maintain what little advantage my ploy had given me. "You have two choices. Accept my wager or not. If you accept and win I will willing comply with your demands. However if I win, I walk away and you...shall do the same."

Her body language remained aggressive, tight, fraught with a combination of what I perceived as anger and aggression as I watched her force the words between clenched teeth, "And if I do not accept your wager?"

I let my voice drop an octave but forced myself to remain still, my eyes moving to lock on to hers, unwilling to give an inch while speaking volumes in reply, " Then we shall find out which of us is not only quicker but the deadlier of the species."

Standing there, I watched her for any movement, any sign knowing as weak as I was that it would be no contest. My eyes remained calm, the blue though now having changed from the color of the sky to that of the midnight hour and I awaited her answer. To my own surprise, I saw a bit of a smile play at the corner of her mouth as she laughed saying, "I must admit, I admire your style Mr. Samuels. Very well, I accept. What is your wager?"

I walked slowly over to the fireplace, before turning, leaning against it, fearful that my legs would no longer support me. Looking up, I let a smile of my own come to my face as I let my eyes look deeply into hers while saying, "It's really quite simple. I wager that I...can seduce you."

It was her turn to flinch, the shock at hearing my words catching the dark haired beauty yet again by surprise. I kept the smile on my face but my eyes showed my serious intent. "If I am to find your pleasure, to make you...", letting my words trail off of their own accord while relishing the crimson blush which quickly spread over her face.

I began to unbutton the long coat I wore, catching her furtive glance at my movement as I continued speaking slowly saying, "I will use no illusions, no glamour, no magic, simply my body" as the coat fell in a puddle at my feet.

Her weapon was still in her hand, held loosely yet ready at a moment's notice. I knew what she was thinking and I pulled a piece of parchment from under my shirt. "I know what gives you pause m'lady. This is my solemn oath, stating I shall not take that which you do not offer. This is my pledge and I will seal it accordingly." With that I took a fingernail and drug it across my wrist, a thin line of blood quickly rising, the drops falling to the paper.

I held it out to her and as she reached for the single piece of paper I made sure our hands touched. Sparks flew back and forth but each of us was unwilling to acquiesce to the other. Her eyes looking down, scanning the words penned there until she finally finished and in doing so she turned and placed her gun upon on the mantle.

She allowed her hand then to slide between a slit in her skirt and with a flourish pulled forth a knife. The edge was razor sharp, the material content certainly silver and I watched as she laid the blade in the palm of her hand. Then, with a slow pull blood began to seep from her fingertips, mingling with mine on the aged paper.

The deal made, the wager in place but there was yet another turn, another card to be played and it was hers to play. I looked up to see her turn her hand over, palm up and before my astonished eyes I saw the wound close within seconds. I too had the ability to heal myself but as I looked down at my wrist, all I could see was the blood clotting. It would take days to accomplish what she had done in the blink of an eye.

Like two fighters who landing alternate blows she had staggered me yet again. The smile on her face was at my expense as she said, "I told you Jonathan Samuels I have many talents. I am stronger than you physically and mentally. I can do things you never dared dream might be possible. We will play your game but nothing has changed, the outcome...is destiny."

She crossed the space between us before I could even react, her hand reaching up and touching my face. With that simple gesture, I felt what others had endured over the years, throughout the past. Her eyes reflected back my own and I saw them lose focus, my will being drained even as she leaned close and with a warm breath whispered in my ear, "If at any time I feel you trying to turn me, I will kill you."

The words were no idle threat, simply a promise made and I could only nod my head in reply. Her eyes continued to probe mine as she spoke anew. "I find it quite intriguing, your choice of wagers. You see through the years, for each succeeding generation it became harder and harder to find a mate who could do what you propose. One who could satisfy a growing hunger. In fact, I have found no man who could do that which you so boldly claim."

Her fingers moved down my face, stroking my cheek and I almost crumbled as she said, "But then, you are more than just a man, aren't you Mr. Samuel's." With that her hand grabbed the front of my shirt and with a single tug, the buttons exploded from it and it was ripped from my body. I gasped, feeling my mind reel back into the moment, her smile now like that of a cat who had found a mouse worthy of its attention.

I stood there, naked from the waist up, trying desperately to regain some form of control but there would be no such thing as she sauntered over towards the bed, her back to me. Her blouse slid of her shoulders first and then her skirt fell to the ground as she turned and faced me. The vision was that of a woman clad in lace, a black bra showing off her ample delights, black panties with thigh high stockings running out of the knee length boots, their silver stiletto heels a fetish's delight.

All I could do was stand there and dwell on such a vision. She moved fluidly over to the bed where she laid down in a classic pose, one which promised pleasures beyond a man's wildest dreams. A raw, sensual creature whose eyes were like the remnants of the fire, glowing embers.