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Defiant.Anjeru
Star
- Joined
- Dec 13, 2011
- Location
- Pacific Northwest
I tried to remember why I was here in this place, but when I saw him, I froze. He was chuckling about something, an attractive young woman hanging on his back where he sat, her arms wrapped around his neck. She was whispering in his ear, no doubt saying scandalous things, and I could feel the burning jealousy burning in my gut. He laughed and I felt my knees wobble as the sound washed over me; it had been so long and it was something I thought had been lost to me forever when he disappeared.
This wasn't just any other guy.
He grinned and I saw the light reflect ever so slightly off his canines.
No, this wasn't just any other vampire. Any other target.
This was Jack.
I inhaled sharply, my breath hitching, and it must have been just enough sound to alert his sensitive hearing because he jerked to his feet, and snapped around with his teeth bared. The woman slithered off his back and folded her arms, glaring at me, but I couldn't take my eyes away from his, those oh-so-familiar green eyes that had been haunting me for years.
His eyes narrowed on me, scanned over me slowly, carefully, and I wondered if he would recognize me after all these years; after all, he hadn't aged a bit, but for me, it had been years. My hand tightened around the handle of my blade. His gaze landed there and then he was grinning again as he began a relaxed, almost sauntering, walk across the room toward where I stood at the edge in the shadows.
“Another hunter come to play with me? I suppose I should be flattered they sent such a pretty little thing,” he chuckled as he stopped a few feet from me.
I could feel myself flushing. If I spoke would I give myself away? He didn't seem to recognize me...yet. What I wouldn't give to know what he was thinking in this moment. No, wait – I wouldn't; vampires only ever thought about pain, pleasure, and blood. We were nothing more than play things to them, and I couldn't stand to know he was thinking of me like that.
“Jack,” I sighed his name, my blade wielding hand trembling.
He jerked at the name. “How do you know that name? No one knows that name,” he snapped, his features feral again.
“Jack - “
He was suddenly in front of me, appearing so fast my body reacted, the blade finding home in his side. He barely flinched as it sunk into his flesh, his own hand flying up to grip at my throat, pulling me out just enough for the light of the room to spill across my face. I tried to pull the blade free, but I was pressed too close to him to move. He blinked once, then twice, before a grin softened his features even as his blood spilled over my hand, staining it.
“They did their research,” he chuckled against my cheek. I nearly whimpered, from what I wasn't sure – could have been fear, or worse, desire. “No way sweet, little Leanne became a hunter.” He drew a nail across my lip as it trembled. “Who are you?”
“It doesn't matter who I am,” I replied, my voice shaky. I wanted to tell him the truth, but I couldn't. I was terrified in that moment, with his hand around my throat; vampire strength was nearly unmatchable. All it would take was one flex of his fingers and he'd crush my windpipe. And then I'd die.
“Think again,” he growled. He stepped back but kept a hold on my throat, my hand slipping from the blade I'd buried in his side. He glanced down at it, then used his free hand to pull it free and chucked it across the room. It clattered against the tiled floor and I watched as his flesh knit itself back together. In a matter of moments, it was as if I had never stabbed him. His green eyes flicked back up to me. “One more chance, little thing. Who are you?”
I swallowed thickly and I moved my hands to grip his wrist. “I doubt you would believe me, but you already know, don't you Jack?”
He narrowed his eyes on me thoughtfully. “Leanne was innocent. Kind, sweet, would never harm anyone. You can't be her,” he snapped out, as if he were angry at the very idea of me being exactly what I was.
“I am,” I whispered.
He growled and used his grip on me to slam me against the wall. I cried out in pain, my nails biting into his skin as I clutched onto him. My vision swam in black but I stubbornly pushed it away. “Don't lie to me!” He shouted in my face, his expression feral.
“I'm not. Leanne Sarah Mitchell, born 1988, 24 years of age. I grew up in Seattle, but moved to Rochester at the age of 17 where I met the love of my life, Jack.” I swallowed, my eyes beseeching him to believe me; I reasoned that it was just so he wouldn't kill me, but a part of me wanted him to realize that I was the girl he'd loved, all those years ago.
He dropped me as if touching me burned his pale skin. I fell to my knees and slid a hand behind my waist to grip at the spare blade I kept in the band of my jeans. I looked up at him, watching for any opening he presented, but he was staring at me with I could only call deadly determination. He was planning something, and I knew I wasn't going to like it, whatever it was.
“So little Leanne is a hunter now, hmm?” He grinned, his canines the focus of my eyes. “This should be fun.”
He reached for me and I rolled out of the way, springing to my feet and yanking the blade free. I would have jumped at him, ready to bury that blade in his undead heart, but I had forgotten about his female friend. One moment the knife was in my hand, the next it was gone. I cried out at its loss and dove for it, but was stopped as two arms wrenched me against a clearly feminine body. She pinned my hands behind my back and kept me firmly against her, no matter how hard I tried to wiggle free.
Jack grinned again and stalked toward us. He nodded, not to me, but to her, and she used her free hand to wrench my head to the side so that my pale neck was bared. I could see Jack lick his lips and I trembled. So this was it? I would die at the hands of the man I had once loved. The man I had thought was lost to me that horrible night so many years ago. He came closer, his eyes glowing red, and then I could feel his cool breath on my neck. As hard as I tried, I could not keep my body from reacting; butterflies flitted freely in my stomach, my nipples tightened to hard points beneath my shirt, and my core grew wet.
I tried to kick out at him, but he paid no mind to my feeble attempts and simply parted his lips widely and sank his fangs into my skin. I cried out, my back arching. The pain was immense, but quick, and after a moment, I felt the flames of desire flicking up every nerve in my body. I shamelessly moaned and tried to press against him. I closed my eyes in pleasure. He swallowed again and again, drinking of my life blood, but then I realized he was drinking too much as the edges of my vision began to grow hazy.
“No...stop!” I cried out and renewed my struggles, but he merely swallowed again and I could feel the strength leaving my limbs. Soon I grew limp and then there was nothing but darkness.
This wasn't just any other guy.
He grinned and I saw the light reflect ever so slightly off his canines.
No, this wasn't just any other vampire. Any other target.
This was Jack.
I inhaled sharply, my breath hitching, and it must have been just enough sound to alert his sensitive hearing because he jerked to his feet, and snapped around with his teeth bared. The woman slithered off his back and folded her arms, glaring at me, but I couldn't take my eyes away from his, those oh-so-familiar green eyes that had been haunting me for years.
His eyes narrowed on me, scanned over me slowly, carefully, and I wondered if he would recognize me after all these years; after all, he hadn't aged a bit, but for me, it had been years. My hand tightened around the handle of my blade. His gaze landed there and then he was grinning again as he began a relaxed, almost sauntering, walk across the room toward where I stood at the edge in the shadows.
“Another hunter come to play with me? I suppose I should be flattered they sent such a pretty little thing,” he chuckled as he stopped a few feet from me.
I could feel myself flushing. If I spoke would I give myself away? He didn't seem to recognize me...yet. What I wouldn't give to know what he was thinking in this moment. No, wait – I wouldn't; vampires only ever thought about pain, pleasure, and blood. We were nothing more than play things to them, and I couldn't stand to know he was thinking of me like that.
“Jack,” I sighed his name, my blade wielding hand trembling.
He jerked at the name. “How do you know that name? No one knows that name,” he snapped, his features feral again.
“Jack - “
He was suddenly in front of me, appearing so fast my body reacted, the blade finding home in his side. He barely flinched as it sunk into his flesh, his own hand flying up to grip at my throat, pulling me out just enough for the light of the room to spill across my face. I tried to pull the blade free, but I was pressed too close to him to move. He blinked once, then twice, before a grin softened his features even as his blood spilled over my hand, staining it.
“They did their research,” he chuckled against my cheek. I nearly whimpered, from what I wasn't sure – could have been fear, or worse, desire. “No way sweet, little Leanne became a hunter.” He drew a nail across my lip as it trembled. “Who are you?”
“It doesn't matter who I am,” I replied, my voice shaky. I wanted to tell him the truth, but I couldn't. I was terrified in that moment, with his hand around my throat; vampire strength was nearly unmatchable. All it would take was one flex of his fingers and he'd crush my windpipe. And then I'd die.
“Think again,” he growled. He stepped back but kept a hold on my throat, my hand slipping from the blade I'd buried in his side. He glanced down at it, then used his free hand to pull it free and chucked it across the room. It clattered against the tiled floor and I watched as his flesh knit itself back together. In a matter of moments, it was as if I had never stabbed him. His green eyes flicked back up to me. “One more chance, little thing. Who are you?”
I swallowed thickly and I moved my hands to grip his wrist. “I doubt you would believe me, but you already know, don't you Jack?”
He narrowed his eyes on me thoughtfully. “Leanne was innocent. Kind, sweet, would never harm anyone. You can't be her,” he snapped out, as if he were angry at the very idea of me being exactly what I was.
“I am,” I whispered.
He growled and used his grip on me to slam me against the wall. I cried out in pain, my nails biting into his skin as I clutched onto him. My vision swam in black but I stubbornly pushed it away. “Don't lie to me!” He shouted in my face, his expression feral.
“I'm not. Leanne Sarah Mitchell, born 1988, 24 years of age. I grew up in Seattle, but moved to Rochester at the age of 17 where I met the love of my life, Jack.” I swallowed, my eyes beseeching him to believe me; I reasoned that it was just so he wouldn't kill me, but a part of me wanted him to realize that I was the girl he'd loved, all those years ago.
He dropped me as if touching me burned his pale skin. I fell to my knees and slid a hand behind my waist to grip at the spare blade I kept in the band of my jeans. I looked up at him, watching for any opening he presented, but he was staring at me with I could only call deadly determination. He was planning something, and I knew I wasn't going to like it, whatever it was.
“So little Leanne is a hunter now, hmm?” He grinned, his canines the focus of my eyes. “This should be fun.”
He reached for me and I rolled out of the way, springing to my feet and yanking the blade free. I would have jumped at him, ready to bury that blade in his undead heart, but I had forgotten about his female friend. One moment the knife was in my hand, the next it was gone. I cried out at its loss and dove for it, but was stopped as two arms wrenched me against a clearly feminine body. She pinned my hands behind my back and kept me firmly against her, no matter how hard I tried to wiggle free.
Jack grinned again and stalked toward us. He nodded, not to me, but to her, and she used her free hand to wrench my head to the side so that my pale neck was bared. I could see Jack lick his lips and I trembled. So this was it? I would die at the hands of the man I had once loved. The man I had thought was lost to me that horrible night so many years ago. He came closer, his eyes glowing red, and then I could feel his cool breath on my neck. As hard as I tried, I could not keep my body from reacting; butterflies flitted freely in my stomach, my nipples tightened to hard points beneath my shirt, and my core grew wet.
I tried to kick out at him, but he paid no mind to my feeble attempts and simply parted his lips widely and sank his fangs into my skin. I cried out, my back arching. The pain was immense, but quick, and after a moment, I felt the flames of desire flicking up every nerve in my body. I shamelessly moaned and tried to press against him. I closed my eyes in pleasure. He swallowed again and again, drinking of my life blood, but then I realized he was drinking too much as the edges of my vision began to grow hazy.
“No...stop!” I cried out and renewed my struggles, but he merely swallowed again and I could feel the strength leaving my limbs. Soon I grew limp and then there was nothing but darkness.