tagNonHumanMercurial Ends Ch. 01

Mercurial Ends Ch. 01


MERCURIAL ENDS is the sequel to OF THORNS AND PEARLS. The story about Salome Tabor Matthias who is a sickly artist living in New York City. She meets a sexy rouge, Shy, in college who is enchanting and confounding. Tabor must accept that Shy is not only a vampire but he is the master of her nature and she understand who she is. Little does she know that Shy is her cure and salvation. MERCURIAL ENDS starts where OF THORNS AND PEARLS end.

If you liked OF THORNS AND PEARLS, please help by being a beta reader for the first three chapters before I post them to Literotica, please contact me below.

I hope you enjoy this vampire tale. Cheers, Talyis



Nothing is Lost.... Everything is Transformed -- Michael Ende

CHAPTER 1 -- Everything is Transformed

Thunder. The tremolo roll of drums swelled in fierce intensity -- danger. The moaning earth moved by reverberating new energy into the air, vibrating the dead leaves and unleashing an un-heavenly breeze that billowed the trees in one unnatural direction. No birds cried or flew from their nests all was still and silent while the spectacular glorious rays from the sun hit the earth with little heat now as it began to settle behind the serene purple mountains.

Long reds and yellows billowed from the train of her dress like fire surrounding a human form. She was trapped on the edge of the precipice of the red jagged cliff, the trees reaching out as if to yearn for a kiss with the opposite side of the deadly drop. The lush valleys etched into the earth that looked like small green lines from high on top of the cliff. The rumble among the drums came nearer out of the forests, but she stood still, her face stoic without expression. Her pillowy lips tightened into a line, her chest only moved slightly, and tension seized her with each determined breath.

Rumble became a rhythmic beat of war as it drew closer to her and now the bold battle calls of men could be heard.

Bird's caws rose from the shadows of the forest, but no winged creature spoke, no it was tribes united, clamoring for victory against this one woman. With one small step back, the rocks shifted under her bare feet, the grainy ground shuffle as pebbles fell to certain doom in the long plunge into the valley below

The hollowed whistle shot past her hears, she could see the trail of air like waves in a tranquil sea as the spears flew around her, missing her as she gracefully ducked while seemingly standing still, her dress flowing far to her side majestically.

Small brown faces with burning red cheeks and white eyes inflamed with courage crowed battle calls as they emerged from the forest. Some still in boyhood, chieftains, warriors, others were old men ran from the canopy of trees, their bare feet slapping against the earth and the bells around their ankles stomped in a jangled mess.

With might they attacked her, but she only stood stoically, unmoved. Inside, fire burned within her, moved in rhythm with her anger and fury, it passed through her small clenched fists, and lay dancing on her toes as she moved easily dodging the men running towards her. The beat upon the drums was her dance partner; the tribal hands continued hitting the stretched skin over hollow gourds as she turned and ducked and the courageous men flew around her, over her and down falling to their death off the deep cliff. The fire within her, turned her eyes a glowing red as the lava from the Oxotili volcano.

She screamed unnaturally, her small mouth simple and delicate caused the men still standing to fall onto the ground their hands tight gripped their ears, writhing in pain attempting to bury their faces in the dirt. The drums stopped and only the rumble of the earth remained. Cracks began to ring in the far distant as the earth separated from itself when she stepped towards one of the men, placing her small feet on his anguished face.

His courage turned to fear. She looked over to an older man kneeling and rocking his ears' bleeding. He was a healer in the village and enjoyed gathering flowers from the forest floors for her.

The valley below sparked into flames and quickly rolled destroying the quaint valley. The setting sun stopped and slowly began to climb up the stairway of the horizon with each accession the strange hot wind blew around them, but calmly her thin gown blew around them painting the horizon's reds and yellows. The moon had already climbed into its house the sky, the evening competing with the day bright and dark bordered across the land until evening began to rule as the sun slipped behind the moon. It became night and day at the same time, the earth in complete darkness except for the red and yellow glean from the woman's gown flowing from her body brilliant like a star.

The rocks and pebbles continued to roll towards the woman and over the cliff, more rolled from the forest's edge, but it was no longer her pull. Her master took deliberate steps towards her, stepping out of the shadows among the trees; and the rocks rolled away from his every step as if to lay a royal carpet out for him.

The wind calmed and settled as the men slowly gathered to their feet quickly grabbing their spears and pointing them at her. Her master spoke melting her. The fury within her became ribbons of love. He came closer with fearless steps. His words continued to soothe her, and her eyes returned their dark browns.

She loved her master; everything about him summoned her softness and sensuality. She longed for his touch as his strong hands tenderly took her shoulders pulling him closer to her. He held her nude breast transparent through the thin dress and kissed her deeply. She moaned and fell into his embrace. She didn't care if her subjects, the fearful tribe trembling from her wrath with their spears trained upon her saw her weak and openly ready to make love with her mate. Her master's hands traveled down the silks of her gown pulling up the long train flowing from her waist to her juncture.

Her body ached for his touch to go deeper, but he only teased at her inner thighs. She dripped with anticipation, impatient need; she thrust her hips towards him as their private dance began. He twisted her body around his own, his lips devouring her, his long fingers finally brushing against her and then turning her hard to a new angle the tango began, and he commanded her hips to gyrate as he trusted his fingers into her, his lips sucking and kissing her neck. She smiled, her ancient eyes rolling back in her head.

He whispered sweetly into her ear, "Eliock tu ew."

And she began to float, "Eliock tu ew" she whispered sweetly in return.

Her voice stabbed his heart; he loved the music in her every word. And rock and float she did, higher and higher, until she saw the clouds and the sun stop in its unnatural accession quickly began its natural retreat to the earth in the night.

Higher and higher, she floated amazed by the world, and then she looked down with great sorrow. She saw herself in her lover's arms, her body being hoisted high as the villagers carried her away, her arms loose at her sides, her head bounced as they carried her returning to the forest edge. She tried to fall returning to the ground below, but higher and higher she floated until the forest was like a speck of green dust.


"Ah!" a sharp soft scream awoke her before she realized she was only sleeping. It was still the middle of the night. She stared blankly into the dark bedroom trying to remember where she was. She had many times awoken in a cold sweat, always looking around for where she ended up after her recurring dreams. Was she in a bedroom or a cage? She hated disturbing Shy in the middle of the night with her constant night terrors.

He assured her many mornings over breakfast that it was perfectly normal to have nightmares after what she had gone through. She still didn't like the fact she was one, so vulnerable and needy when it came to her past; and two, she would wake Shy, and even though he did not say anything she knew he must be annoyed by her constant fears she couldn't let go.

Shy lay asleep, although she wasn't sure if he were truly sleeping, or if she had indeed awakened him. Guilty she found her to answer; he was on the edge of his dreams already falling back to sleep with a moan as his arm over her tightened its grip holding her closer to him all the while assuring her that she was ok, and her vampire was here. To sleep as a babe with lions, she thought to herself at the irony of feeling safe with a vampire. Nevertheless, she arched and then crinkled her eyebrows now admitting the fact that she too was part vampire. She was a power aura because somewhere deep in her family tree a relative made whoopie with a vampire. And because she had special powers that she so brazenly but conservatively displayed for Shy in private at a restaurant; she was captured and dissected by scientists. The ordeal was one to make someone draw a line in the sand and cling to whom and in her case what one truly is.

"It's only been a month," Shy said sleepily. He was reading her mind again.

"Two months," She corrected and sighed, clinging closer to the vampire. "I'm sorry."

"Tabor, don't be ridiculous, go to sleep. You need your rest."

"I'm sorry." She only said again quietly. She was sorry because her night terrors were no longer about the scientist but of a strange woman being killed in an indigenous village. Tabor turned to see if Shy had heard her thoughts. She had been practicing how to block him from her mind. She had succeeded, and she didn't want to clue him in on her secret training. She knew that he depended on reading her thoughts lately to gauge her feelings when she tried to hide it all from him. Sometimes things were best left as they were and not everything had to be fixed that second. She felt like she needed to let the near-death experience bother her, so she would never end up in that place again.

Perhaps that's all the dream meant, that she was going to die one day and to let it go. Let go of her fear of being attacked. She knew Shy did not like the idea of her being killed or the acceptance of her mortality one bit.

"No I don't," Shy's voice was gruff with sleep and irritation; he was reading her thoughts again.

"Please make love to me." Her voice was innocent.

Shy propped his head on his hand his other tracing her clavicle, "Anything to shut your mind from your morbid thoughts, My Love."

She reached for his neck, drawing him to her lips. "Eliock tu ew."

Shy sat up his eyes investigating her more. "Where did you learn that?"

"A little bird," She said drawing him closer to her again.

"Mmm," he was suspicious of her, and lately he had a hard time reading her. It bothered him hearing those words, but he did not let it show. He only heard the phrase in very old stories written in ancient vampire languages. With everything he had to deal with managing Tabor's safety and recovery this was beyond strange peculiarities that he reluctantly should add to the list.

Again, she pleaded softly for him to make love to her. Her single moveable leg rubbed against the soft bed sheet as if she were a ballerina. He carefully moved her cast aside and with her free leg wrapped it around his waist, not without massaging her leg, feeling its smoothness and lovely curves. His cock rubbed against her opening that was already slick with heat, and he loved the sensation of her sex wetting his cock. She arched her back pushing her hips wantonly forward wanting to take him in, and he obliged her. In slow deliberate strokes, he sawed into her sex. She was already panting, thrashing her head against the pillow as little whimpers escaped her breath.

He grunted as he began to trust into her more quickly, he loved the way a surge of her power aura slammed against his chest and his thighs pulling his body taunt and heating his burgeoning organ, egging them to explode. Her aura brought out his most primal nature as he wanted to conquer her, and his rhythms came faster and harder; every grunt and groan that escaped her moist lips was his reward. He pushed her further to the brink.

A salacious grin spilled across his face when he snuck his hand to her clit and drew circles before he felt her sex walls squeeze him hard. Loudly, he exhaled a deep gratifying groan as his seed flushed her, filling her completely, pulsating against her walls. He stayed firm as his orgasm ran long and hard.

He removed his cock and he was now thirsty, starved for more power and immediately latched onto her sex. His fangs puncturing her mons and his tongue lapped at her clit and drank her blood. He could feel her pulse through his mouth vibrating to tell him to suck harder on her clit to tease her lips and how close she was to orgasm.

Her aura was intense, and the waves were now moving around him. He could see it through his vampire eyes, as if it were waiting for permission; his permission to drive her to orgasm.

"Come," he commanded and once more latched onto her sex, and indeed, she came as the aura restored to attack him wonderfully with its power. He drank her essence and blood. Now he was truly satisfied.


Crackle and the tinkling of crystal shards splattering against the marble swooshing like a low tide against sands as glass scattered about. Red eyes inflamed with anger barely blinked through her brow crinkled in unison with her pout.

"Come on, Genevieve, you act as Menefer's brat. It isn't all that bad." The rolling tongue of Caledean made her stomach boil in this instance instead of her dotting eyelash butterflies. Ilsino teased her, rolling his goblet stem lazily between his long fingers allowing the occasional drop of red hit the floor as he slumped deeper into his plush leather seat.

"It's not fair!" She screamed as a banshee and another 17th century vase crashed to the floor as she laid across the hearth. Her curly black hair haloed her face like she was some devilish siren, hiding her snare.

"It's not exactly a fortune or a blessing." He rolled his eyes this argument was becoming boring and found the red wine sliding down the crystal dropping onto his Ming Dynasty rug much more interesting.

Genevieve's theatricals grew as she moan and crumpled to the floor her body leaning over her heels like a modern dancer rocking in lament.

"I just want to die. This is not life!"

Ilsino only gazed out the window his eyebrow arched with stressed irritation. He gulped down his last drop of the fine imported blood, a little international student. He loved to entice around NYU with a sweet lullaby in ancient vampire to make her forget they had ever met. He swallowed hard; the constant whigneing had devoid his experience of the taste.

"Right. Get up." He took two long strides and jerked the vampire to her feet. "I will not hear you go on about Phio into the dawn, tonight." He said Shy's name as if it were a curse. "What is done is done. However, if you continue, I'll drain you dead myself."

"Fiend!" Her eyes sliced into him as she stomped away throwing her head back dramatically before she perched on the bar. She always moved like a cat or a deer; stealthily with the dexterity of wicked intentions or pranced around as gracefully and lightly as a pure doe, but always with dramatics. She flared her dress out as she crossed her shapely legs showing off her alabaster skin peeking through her black lace stockings.

"I want to get even then, Ilsino. Make it even as you honor your love to me." She said calmly, her hands in her lap as an innocent child.

Ilsino hummed as he crossed over to her, he couldn't pass up the chance to smooth his hands up her legs as he poured a glass of scotch.

He hummed, "What's in it for me?"

"What else, but proof of your love for me." She snarled, but a sly grin pulled to the side. Ilsino shrugged unimpressed and downed his scotch. "Plus you can have your way over Shy."

"Interested." Ilsino arched an eyebrow.

"Kill his lover, thus you break him."

"You are wicked today, my dear. You would steal his chance for love twice?"

"You know Shy. He'll find another. But it will crush him long enough so you can finally get what you want."

"I have a better idea. We can go along with your plan, but the key is at this moment beyond Shy. Now, what we need is his legacy. We want to have an aura for ourselves."

"Ilsino you mean to steal from him thrice."

Ilsino wrapped his long fingers around her neck bringing her so close to him. His other hand travelled further up her thigh. "I could kiss you."

"I could kill you."

"Fiend!" He growled as his fangs unsheathed to attack her lip as she attacked his mouth, sucking biting. The tear of stockings from her body as they passionately groaned into each other's mouths. Thick crimson lines raced down their white chins as they set the sealed their agreement in lust.


They stared at each other for a long time, one would raise a hand, and the other would follow. It was so quiet even they began to match every thought as the thoughts turned to a twist of the body here, to a yank of a limb there, each thought connected and copied one another.

Something was not right beyond her image in the mirror something was very wrong, and it was terrifying why he would hide the truth from her. She felt her heart begin to race as if it were ready to pound out of her chest. She clenched her eyes and willed it to a slow pace. Her fingers trailing over the tender lined scars left behind by the metal staples to put her back together again.

She refused herself a good cry. She had never given herself over to the importance of looks and appearances before, why would she start now? She was always so unlike her mother. But the image of Frankenstein came to mind as her fingers traced over at least six angry lines still in various stages of stitching and scaring. She looked down so that she could capture the tear that threatened to leak out but then landed on the large white cast. She had propped a book under it, so she could stand with only one crutch. She quickly looked up but it was too late tears were streaming down her cheek.

Her fingers traced the line running from one side of her pubic bone to the other. The hair that was removed was already beginning to grow in, and it was the only sign of hiding at least one ugly reminder.

"What are you telling yourself?" He scolded her but love was still in his voice. Shy wrapped her in his arms pulling her close to him.

"I wasn't thinking."

"Tabor, it's too quiet here to lie. It's only you and me, and I heard a lot of talking up here."

Tabor merely shifted her eyes away, not wanting to face Shy, the perfect handsome vampire in the mirror; not wanting to face herself.

"Tabor, talk to me."

"Why, you've heard it all already."

"You're worried about your appearance."

Tabor huffed at the ridiculousness of that thought and reached for her other crutch. "What's done is done." She hobbled out of their expansive closet to sit on the edge of their bed.

"Are you in pain?"

"No, I think I've gotten used to it." She struggled to pull her sweater over her head; her chest throbbed. Shy grabbed a pair of shorts pulling a leg over her cast and then helping her with the other. "Maybe I'll become like Frida Khalho."

"Hmm," he only hummed his mind was elsewhere again.

The last two days she often caught him mulling about something. His thoughts were concentrated and deeply blocked. She watched him just going through the motions of helping her dress and do the simplest tasks.

It had been two days ago that her breasts had become tender and leaked milk. It disturbed her that she had no explanations, and she worried what the Institute had done some abhorred experiment on her resulting in her ability to lactate without pregnancy. She felt like her body had become a ticking time bomb with more medical anomalies to appear at the most inopportune moment. She wanted to go to a doctor but her many surgical scars would only make them ask questions, things she didn't want to answer. She often pretended to ignore that Shy was hiding something from her as she often noticed he would tuck inside a quiet corner and whisper quickly into his phone. What was he hiding?

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byTalyisBagley© 5 comments/ 11768 views/ 7 favorites

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