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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1108237-The-Darkness-chptrs-1-2
by Kiah
Rated: XGC · Fiction · Supernatural · #1108237
Destiny is changed when a woman takes it into her own hands and tempts fate.
The Darkness by A. K. Grayson

Chapter One:
She stood by the window, looking out at the city she called home now, The City of Lost Angels. It was sort of ironic that she had chosen L.A. as her home, after leaving Italy. Her kind had been forced to leave to find a different place to live, because of the rumors and legends that had cropped up over the years about monsters that drank the blood of humans, killing them or turning them into a Vampire. She had cursed the day that she had been forced to flee her own country and find a new place to live, because of the fear of being hunted.

Now in this new country, the laws were different. Her kind could not be hunted unless they broke the laws that the Council had put in place. It was even funnier because she was not from the mortal realm but called it home because she preferred it to the other realms. Italy had been her choice once she had decided to leave the elven realm. The choice had been simple since Italy was a mirror of her own realm. The language and the cultures were the same, Old World and Romantic. The only difference was the people who inhabited and also the magic. Now in this modern day time in L.A., she and her brother had adapted to new things, sights and sounds.


Wrapping her arms around herself, she balanced the crystal rock glass on one arm as she looked out the window into the night and let her mind wander. Closing her eyes, she let herself sink into her memories. She went back to the day when her mother had died and things had changed for her and Vashon. Her mother lay still on the bed as Vasha crept to her side. Tears stung her eyes as she took her mothers hand and pressed it to her cheek as she whispered, “Don’t die Momma.” But she knew it was too late, her mother’s life force was slowly bleeding out of her body and there was nothing anyone could do. She knelt beside the bed and leaned down and whispered in her mother’s ear, “Ti Amo, Momma, I love you more then I can say.” Her mother turned her head, her blue eyes slowly draining of color and gasped hoarsely, “You have to promise me, that once I am dead, after the funeral, you will go to the Lycan realm and find Ambassador Goran and tell him that you are Vasha and Vashon Wolfsbane, Drogi of the Clan Wolfsbane, Daughter of Sariad, and Granchilder of Bane. He will tell you what will happen to you next.” Vasha looked at her mother in shock as she digested the news that her mother had just delivered. It felt like someone had just punched her in the gut hard.


“Mother, Vashon and I are Drogi?” she asked her voice cracking from the shock. Sariad reached out slapped her daughter and glared at her, “Listen to me and listen well, not only are you Drogi, but you are twins. Your father and I lied to keep your true nature a secret. We could not have you kidnapped or kill before you were to fulfill your destiny. You and Vashon share a soul, Bane’s soul. The soul he split in half when he split his sword in half to give to the Twin Kings of Lycan. You and Vashon were born to guard the realms, to become Shadroc Wyvern. I cast a spell that cost me my Lycan heritage and became Drow to have you both. Now, go to Ambassador Goran and fulfill your destiny,” she told her daughter then fell back on the bed face contorted in pain and agony, gasping as she gripped her side. Vasha gasped and gently held her mother until Sariad died. Vasha looked down at her mother as tears fell as she crooned softly to her as she rocked back and forth on the bed with her mother’s body in her arms. “I love you Momma, be at rest and peace. Soon you will be with your beloved.” Vasha then laid her mother out on the bed, kissed her lips softly, placing one of her hands on her mother’s heart and the other on hers, she whispered softly, “Di cuore, a mia cuore. Di mia cuore, a tuo cuore. Fino al nostro prossimo incontro.”


She rose and walked out, quickly rushing to her brother, who wrapped his arms around his sister and held her as she cried. Vashon comforted her as he held his own grief at bay, till he was alone. The funeral was a two day experience. Sariad being Queen of the Drow Elves, she laid in state for a day so everyone could pay their respects from the other realms. Vasha stood in line with her brother beside her and their father as they received the royals and dignitaries from the different realms. That was the first time she met the man who would be her undoing. Kerr Lyranis, one of the Twin Kings of Lycan. Vashon had just leaned over to whisper in her ear, when she stiffened as her body caught a scent that was both foreign and familiar to her. “Watch Out, the Lycan dignitaries and their Kings are up next,” he whispered in her ear lowly, his disrespect evident. Vashon did not like the dignitaries from Lycan, because they sniveled too much. He did however respect the Kings as they stood up for what they wanted and took it if necessary or course Vasha was in agreement. The emissaries from Lycan were a whiney bunch, she however had not met the Kings and that was about to change.


Vasha raised her eyes and found her self looking at a very massive chest. She raised her eyes slowly and found that she had to tilt her head back to look at the man before her. She gasped as she found herself staring into the most ice blue eyes she had ever seen. She could not suppress the shiver that ran through her body. His eyes were so pale and so cold, yet there was a fire in them that made you think that if you stared at them for to long, it would consume you. She tore her eyes from his to see what the man who held the most beautiful eyes she had ever seen looked like. When she saw Kerr Lyranis fully, she could not stifle the gasp that escaped her lips. The man was beautiful, in a wild and savage way. His black hair was long and thick falling to his waist. It was tied back with a red leather braided thong. The man was huge, in size and height. She stood 5’ 8” & this man towered over her by a foot. His face was masculine and angular, the features on his face definitely male. He looked like he had been chiseled out of stone and then life breathed into him. He was beautiful, perfectly so. His tan skin, and dark hair, making those eyes of his stand out. His lashes impossibly long, the envy of every woman. His nose was strong, and prominent on his face, but was not overly big or small. It just seemed to sit perfectly in the middle of his face, blending into his features. His lips, she noted, were firm chiseled lips that looked as if they had been made to kiss a woman till she was breathless, dizzy, to render her senseless and sweep away all resistance.


She licked her lips as she looked at them. Her eyes darkening, the storm brewing even more as she imagined what they would feel like on hers. Her eyes finally drifted down to his chest, noting the muscular arms, chest and legs. She suddenly took in the clothing or in this case armor. Kerr Lyranis was dressing in the royal armor. Black leather that fit him like a glove and seemed to shimmer as the light hit it. The Red Wolf insignia on his chest, bright and vivid as it stared at her was moving. She blinked, gasping as it lay still on his chest. She could have sworn she saw it move on his chest. “Vasha, are you alright?” her father asked.


“I thought it moved,” she replied in that soft, seductive, smoky voice of hers. Her voice was pure sensual heat that whispered about you, enticing you in, yet wrapped around you and seduced you with the silkiness of it. It had many of the males within hearing turn to look at her, the hunger and desire in their eyes. Vashon in his usual protective fashion growled at the men who were looking, a low warning to them that she was not on the menu before Kerr could give them a look. He was not happy with the way they were looking at her either. “Thought what moved?” another deep voice asked. Her eyes glued to Kerr’s chest, she whispered absently, “The wolf on his chest.” Both Kings looked at each other but said nothing as the impact of what she said hit them. Kerr looked at her; she had not been what he expected. Quite the opposite, Vasha Wolfsbane was the most, alluring, beautiful, enchanting, exotic, intoxicating woman he had ever set eyes on. His body had instantly reacted when she had looked up at him with those wild violet eyes of hers that were filled with such a haunting sadness that he just wanted to pull her to him and hold her, to comfort her, to ease her pain but also held within them a storm that threatened to spill over and out into the room. He wanted her he wanted to know what it was like to sink into her eyes, to feel her body against his, to be inside of her. To have her crying out in pleasure underneath him, clinging to him as she writhed in ecstasy. Christ he was at her mother funeral, Sariad the Queen of the Drows had died and here he was having fantasies of intimate situations with her daughter.


“Kerr, Kel, I would like you to meet my children, Vasha and Vashon,” King Drazien said gently as he stood between his children. Kerr lifted his hand and took Vasha’s hand and said lowly, “A pleasure to meet you your highness.” Then raise her hand to him lips and kissed it. Vasha gasped as something a kin to an electric shock ran from his lips to her hand and through her body like wildfire. Her knees going weak as his voice rumbled through her, deep, low and velvety, in a very seductive way. She was having trouble breathing, the world seemed like it was closing in on her. “Vasha, are you alright, you seem a bit pale?” Kerr asked as he stepping closer as she swayed on her feet. Vasha stiffened suddenly as she caught his scent and realized it was him that was doing this to her. Raising her head, her body stiff, she gave him her most beguiling smile, “I am fine, it was momentary, it is a pleasure to meet you, Your Majesty,” she said effortlessly, in that voice of hers that seem to slip around and inside of him and bring forth the more basic and primal instincts in him. She called to his beast & his beast wanted to answer with a need and urgency that he had never felt before with any woman. He looked at her and lowered his voice, “If you are sure your highness.” She left that smile on her lips as she spoke easily dismissing him, “I am sure, if you’ll excuse me, others are waiting.” He inclined his head and then moved on down the line to greet the others.


His brother Kel had been next, twin to Kerr, they were identical but Kel did not get a reaction out of her, in fact she felt comfortable in Kel's presence. She had smiled and shook his hand, as Kerr watched them. His body had tightened with anger as she flirted skillfully with Kel and he right back as he offered his condolences. Once her family had greeted all the dignitaries and the Kings of the realm was over, Vasha had fled to her room and not come out till the funeral, the loss of her mother took it’s toll on her and the feelings she felt when she was around or to close to the Wolf King Kerr, confused her. She now stood in between her father and brother as Kerr openly watched her, dressed in the royal colors, of purple and black falling to the ground and trailing behind her.

It was regal and befitting an heir to the throne. The high back, curled up around her neck, dipping low to expose the tops of her breasts, her golden tan skin standing out against the black, glowing. The dress tapered into a small waist and then fell straight down in front and flowed out behind her. It was made of a lightweight silk spun by the Sidhe and moved with her, hugging her every curve the colors shimmering in the midday sun bright and vivid. She wore it with a grace and regal bearing that spoke to anyone that she was royalty and should be respected. Her hair shined brightly a rich blood red color, with hues of purple and black in it as the sun shone down on it was piled up on her head, with tendrils hanging down to caress her neck. She wore her crown on her head, nestled in the piles of hair on her head. Around her neck was a simple black heart diamond, on left ring finger was a ring and in her ears were the earrings, a matching set. She had been chosen to be the next Queen. Covering her was light purple lace netting with the royal insignia weaved into it that made her even more alluring to him as it hid her from him in a mysterious way. Kerr watched as she walked to the grave, knelt and kissed her hand then placed it on the coffin and whispered something.


He closed his eyes and honed his hearing in on what she was saying “sempre e sempre, ora e per sempre Momma,” she whispered, the pain in her voice thick as it wrapped around his heart and squeezed. He wanted to take her pain away, to take away the hurt she was feeling, to make everything better for her. He wanted to see her smile, to hear her laugh, to look at him and need him. Mon Dieu, what the hell was happening to him? He had just met the woman and already he was acting like some love sick pup. He was King of Lycan, The Wolf King. He was feared by his own people and all the other realms. Of course he had not exactly done anything to stop the rumors and had even done some terrible things to make sure he was feared. As Vasha rose from the grave, she let her eyes roam the hundreds of people who had come to attend her mother’s funeral and sought out a single man. She found him in the back, leaning against the wall, a casual but alert stance as he listened to the High Priest drone on and on. She realized that he was watching her, his eyes tracking her. Like a wolf tracking his prey, she thought suddenly and shivered as chills went up her spine as she realized she was the prey and he the wolf. She licked her suddenly dry lips as her eyes closed so she could block him out.


She could feel Kerr Lyranis is a way that she could not with any another man. She could hear his heart beating, his blood rushing through his veins, his breathing. She could smell him, even when he was not around. She could hear him whispering in her ear. The velvety voice of his all smooth and seductive, wrapping itself around her and sliding inside and stroking her in a very erotic and intimate way that had her flushed. She could not help herself, her body reacted to his. She wanted him, something inside of her wanted out, wanted to claw its way out of her body and answer some deep unknown call that only she could hear. What the hell was wrong with her? And what the hell was he doing to her?” She wondered as she made her way back to her father’s side. Finally it was over and they all left the huge burial cathedral that had been built to house the royal families of Karatos when they died. She escaped to her room, but her brother Vashon invaded not wanting to be alone or around any of the ass kissers out there. Vasha looked at her brother and laughed at his antics as he imitated some of the older ambassadors.

Then he stopped and looked at his sister. “What is going on between you and Kerr Lyranis?” he asked as he watched her closely. Vasha blinked in shock, “scusi?” “Oh do not play coy with me I have never seen you react to anyone like you did him. You froze Vasha, in front of everyone you froze and gaped at Kerr like a schoolgirl with a crush,” Vashon told her. “Shut up Vashon, there is nothing going on, he surprised me that is all,” Vasha snapped angrily. “Bullshit, I have been watching the two of you. He watches your every move, like a wolf on the prowl and you, you seek him out, searching the crowds till you find him and then your eyes go molten and begin to glow. You want him!” Vashon accused. “Your pazzo,” she said, shaking her head, “Where do you get these pazzo ideas Vashon?” she asked with a little laugh, trying to play it off. “You can’t deny it, because it is true and I know it is because, I can smell your arousal, the pheromone heat you are putting out & am I not the only one, every damn representative from the Lycan realm can smell it to. So I am sure Kerr can smell your hunger for him,” Vashon said as he flopped on the bed with a laugh. Vasha turned red as she groaned. Dio Mio, she had not even thought about that. Oh god she was mortified. “My sister is a bitch in heat and the dogs are sniffing around in packs,” he said as he laughed. Vasha kicked him as she growled.


“Children, stop fighting, I need to speak to you,” their father said as he strode in. Vashon sat up as Vasha sat down next to her brother as their father the King stopped in front of them and looked at them. “Is something wrong Daddy?” Vasha asked softly concerned. Her father did not look well he looked tired and worn down, his color paling. She knew he was fading. King Drazien looked at his two beloved children and knew it was time they had to go with Kings and the royal emissaries to Lycan. “You know that since my beloved is gone, I soon will follow. I know Sariad told you Vasha, the truth of your birth, but I must again speak of it. Vashon, you and Vasha are twins, conceived with a spell, to ensure that your place in this world would be important. When you were born, you were each given half of one soul. You each carry inside of you half of Bane’s soul. You are Drogi, Half Drow, and Half Lycan. The time had come for you to learn who you truly are. You will accompany King Kerr and King Kel along with their royal emissaries back to Lycan where your training will begin,” he told them. Vashon jumped up and looked at his father, “Are you kidding me? Are you fucking kidding me? You are telling me that we are Drogi that we are to be Shadroc Wyvern? Why must we go with them? Our home is here, if you fade then we rule, why are we being sent away?” he snarled at his father. “Boy, know your place,” Drazien snarled at him. Vashon took a step back and then bowed his head, “I am sorry Father, it came as a shock.” “I understand my son. You were never meant to rule Karatos you were destined for a greater purpose, to be Guardians of the Realms. But your mother and I also made sure that never would you be tied to this realm. We ensure that your beloveds would be from another realm. That you would know them when you met them, the pull, the hunger the passion would be strong in you to, because you each carry part of Bane in you, he told them, looking pointedly at his daughter. Vasha tried to hold her father’s look but she could not and she looked away. Kerr Lyranis was not her beloved. He was just a man who had some how intrigued her, nothing more then that. But a little voice in her head whispered, “You are deluding yourself. Kerr Lyranis is the one you seek.” “Shut up & Go away” she thought to that voice.



“Hey Sis, what realm you on today?” Vashon asked bringing her back into the present. “None, just thinking, remembering the past, little brother,” she told him in that low, husky, seductive voice of hers. “What about the past?” her brother asked as he sat down and propped up his feet. “Just reliving old memories, nothing more,” she said with a shrug as she emptied the rest of her glass and set it down. Vashon knew his sister way too well and when she gave cryptic answers it meant she was not willing to talk about it until she was ready. “So what is on the agenda for tonight? Do we have a job?” Vashon asked, distracting her. Vasha finally turned to fully look at her brother and sighed, “I guess you have not heard the news, the Council is sending us a babysitter,” she informed him. “Who is it?” Vashon asked as his feet hit the floor. “The Council did not say they just said they were sending a Death God,” she said quietly as she headed out the door. “A Death God, what the hell is the Council thinking?” he hissed as he quickly followed her. “They are thinking to keep us under control. It will not work, to be ruled by ones younger than. It’s fucking insulting,” she snapped as she entered the kitchen. Vashon ran, smacking into her, as she suddenly stopped. He peered around her to see what had made her stop and blinked not sure what he was seeing. Vasha looked in disbelief as she saw her third on command feeding off of one of the servant girls.

“Diego, what the HELL do you think you are doing?” she snarled as she moved across the room and jerked him away from the girl.


The servant girl quickly ran to Vashon for protection as Vasha slammed Diego into a wall and held him there, “Answer me, what the hell were you doing?” “What do you think I was doing, I was feeding,” Diego snapped angrily at the sudden interruption. “How dare you, the rules are in place for a reason,” Vasha hissed at him. “She offered herself to me,” he offered, but his lame excuse fell on deaf ears.

The girl’s fear radiated through both Vashon and Vasha. “You lie. I can feel her fear. I could feel it when we found you. You took her without asking. You know the rules, the punishment is death,” Vasha told him as she glared up at him. “Fuck you and the rules we are Gods among the humans. Why should we have to suffer because others have made a pact with humans? We should have free reign among them,” Diego snarled back at her as he kicked off the wall and broke loose of Vasha’s hold. He landed on the floor in a crouch as Vasha turned ready for battle.


“Do not do this Diego, we all abide by the rules, do not do this here and now,” Vasha said softly. “We’re doing this here and now, Vasha, I will not be bound by rules that are not for us,” Diego said. “That is where you are wrong, you are not doing this at all,” a deep voice spoke from behind Diego. It seemed to rumble along your body and flow inside of you like velvet sliding across your skin, as two men grabbed him. Vasha looked up at the man who had spoken and realized this was going to be harder then she thought, for standing at the doorway of her kitchen, was the Death God, Dante DeSantos.

Dante was 6’6”, with his olive, tanned skin, eyes so black that when you looked into them, you felt as if you were looking into the abyss and would lose your very soul if you stared to long. His hair fell to mid-back and was always kept in a tight braid or ponytail, held by a leather thong. She would never tire of looking at his hair, it was so silky smooth. It was the color that she admired the most; it was an inky black color with hues of purple and blue thrown in, that shone just right in certain lights. His face was perfection, with a square jaw, masculine features yet beautiful with high cheek bones & full kissable lips and she vividly remembered how they felt on hers and her body. He was the most beautiful Sidhe/Vampyre that she had seen. The rumors said that sometimes he blinded others with his beauty, when he glowed or let the shield drop to reveal his true self. It was a trait only bestowed to the Sidhe. Dante was a tall, deliciously erotic man, who drew women of any race to him, like moths to a flame. He was just oozed sex with the aura that surrounded him, speaking volumes, that was dangerous and wild and by the way he moved, slow, deliberate & seductive. It was obvious to anyone who looked at him that he would be one hell of an incredible lover, taking the time to devour you first then taking his pleasure after he had sated almost all of yours, making sure that when you finally were satisfied you knew that no one else would compare. There were very few men like that in any race, but each held at least one.



YOU, so you’re the Death God they sent, Dante DeSantos,” Vasha said coldly as she moved around Diego and the men, brushing past Dante and out of the kitchen.

“Ms. Vasha, you’re not going to send me back?” the servant girl asked. Vasha stopped her back to everyone, turned her head and said softly, “No, you were not at fault,” then walked off. “Take him,” Dante ordered then turned and went after Vasha. He found her in her office, looking out once again at the city. “What do you want?” Vasha asked coldly as she felt him enter & shut the door. “I know this is not what you want or desire, but it is what the Council has decreed, and neither of us can go against their word,” he said his voice low and deep. Vasha gritted her teeth as his voice once again made places in her lower regions tighten. “Want to bet on that?” Dante moved and Vasha found herself up against a wall, his hand on her throat, hands above her head pinned to the wall. “Get the fuck off of me, how dare you?” she snarled as she struggled. Dante looked at Vasha, letting his eyes roam along her body.



Vasha at full height was 5’8”, a powerhouse of cold steel in the body of a tempting vixen. Silk and Steel is what she was referred to by some of the lesser vampyrs. She was cold, vicious, cunning, dangerous and extremely beautiful and seductive. Her face was exotic, with dark burgundy-black hair that shone like deep rich garnet color in the sunlight, & eyes of a deep purple that seemed like a dark storm ready to unleash, her featured were petite, with her slightly almond shaped eyes, and golden tan skin. Her body was svelte, long trim lined and defined muscles. Her waist was tiny sliding into a very firm, heart shaped ass and long supple, yet muscular legs. She oozed sex and seduction, yet held a dangerous air about her that whispered of dark sensual pleasures. The question was, were you daring to be bold enough to see whether she would be your ultimate fantasy or your worst nightmare come true. He had felt every inch of that body against his and her mouth as well. He had also devoured every inch of that body with his & being this close to her sent his hunger into overdrive. “Be still,” Dante said quietly. Vasha froze, not sure why, she just suddenly felt the need to be still. “Much better, now if you will relax and accept the situation, it will go easier for both of us,” he told her.


Vasha came unhinged suddenly as she pushed off the wall, setting him off balance, sending him to the floor, she flipped over him and landed in a crouch on the other side of the room, fangs extended, knives out in her hands, eyes glowing, her chest rising and falling rapidly. “Damn it Vasha, I do not want to do this, relax and let’s talk,” he said lowly, his voice dropping more, slicing through her body, sending her libido racing. Vasha closed her eyes as her hands clenched around her knives, her body tensed and then suddenly she was in the air, coming at Dante, knives poised in the air to strike, when a voice shouted her name...

”VASHA!”

It was like ice cold water being thrown on her, she suddenly became aware of what she was about to do and managed to twist her body and reverse directions, landing on her feet on the other side of the room. She stood breathing hard, shaking as she realized how close she had come to a full out attack on the Death God. “What the hell was that Vasha?” Vashon asked angrily, “Has everyone gone mad in this damn house?” Vasha shook her head, as she slid her knives back into the sheath’s then ran her hand through her hair sending it flowing down her back. “I have no idea what came over me, I apologize, this is not how I wanted this to go, true I am not happy about you being here, but I would never attack you for any reason,” she said softly as she took a seat. “Vasha, Vashon, relax, I made Vasha do that, I wanted to see how far I could push her before she unleashed on me, seems I can only push her rage. But not her magic, which is good, it means that she has that very well protected. I apologize, Vasha for deceiving you, but it was necessary,” Dante explained, while he leaned against a wall, a position he had taken once Vasha had landed on her feet the first time. “Why in the hell would you do that? Do you know what they call my sister?” Vashon asked as he turned to face Dante.

“I know what they call her, Morte Angelo or Morte’s Angelo, Death Angelo or Death’s Angel, some races think she belongs to me, and there are times I wish she did the way she kills, it is beautiful and flawless, a work of art,” Dante said his voice full admiration for Vasha and her work. Vasha frowned, “You think the way I kill is art and beautiful?” she asked confused. “God, yes, the way you viciously take down your prey, the way you hunt them, so cunning and thorough, my god Vasha, it is a pleasure to watch,” Dante breathed out, his voice sliding through the room, like a gentle breeze, whispering across your skin.


“You’ve been watching me?” she gasped in shock, as her mind raced, why the hell was this Death God so interested in her, was he going to recruit her, a shudder ripped through her at that though, to become one of his minions, meant full death, she was a living vampyr & has no desire to become full dead. “Yes Vasha, you have peaked my interest,” he said lowly, his voice deep. Vasha felt like she was drowning as she vaguely heard Vashon ask, “You are not planning on recruiting her?” “It has been a thought, but I have no designs to turn her into a full dead vampire, so you can both relax,” Dante told them as he watched Vasha she seemed to be in trouble. “Vasha, are you all right?” he asked as he saw her blink. She turned to look at him then pitched forward out of the chair and hit the floor still. “VASHA,” Vashon cried out as he rushed over to her. “I think your sister should get some rest, she has already had a long day, I will speak to her when she is awake again,” he said and then he left the room. Vashon picked Vasha up, took her to her room and laid her down on the bed then took a seat in a chair and waited for her to wake up.


It was 4 hours later that Vasha came to suddenly her knives out. When she realized that she was in her room and alone, she put her knives back and fell back and pulled a pillow over her face and groaned. Then threw the pillow with a growl and sat up, putting her feet on the floor and muttered under her breath, “fottuto spirito” then stiffened as she sensed another presence in her room. “Show yourself now,” she snarled as her knives were suddenly in her hands. Dante was very impressed, she moved fast. He almost did not catch her hands, but he was centuries older then her and could see her movements, to everyone else it was a blur. “Easy Death Angel, I am not here to attack you, I want to talk, privately with you,” Dante said as he stepped out of the shadows. Vasha slowly put her knives away and looked at him, “What is it that is so urgent that you needed to watch me sleep and invade my thoughts.” she asked cautiously, still unsure of him and her reaction to him.

“Do I scare you Vasha?” he asked quietly as he walked to the window and looked out at the night. “Scare me, please. I have no fear,” she laughed, “I am just unsure of you.” Dante was on her instantly, his fangs bared, pinning her against the wall as she gasped as her fear pounded in her veins. Dear god, she had never even seen him move, Christ! She was going to have to watch her step around him or she would be full dead long before she truly wished to be. “I can smell your fear and it is intoxicating, it excites me and arouses me. Why lie to me Vasha? I know you better then you know yourself.

Your kills show who you are and what you desire, your hunger deep inside is awakening and you want to feed, I know what you have been doing, such a naughty vampyr, when it is forbidden, so how are we going to play this Vasha, easy or hard?” Dante whispered against her skin as he inhaled her scent breathing in her beauty, god it had been along time since he had truly smelled beautiful, most of his victims were beautiful on the outside but so evil and wicked on the inside, Vasha was truly beautiful on the inside and outside. Vasha looked at him.



“Easy,” she murmured as she tried to get out of his death grip. “If I do not wish to let you go, then you will not get free, so relax and stop struggling,” he said softly against her ear. Vasha froze as her heart beat rapidly in her chest, he was to close, the way he was affecting her was too much. “Don’t,” came the soft plea. “Don't what, Vasha? Touch you? Smell you? Enjoy the feel of your body? Do I truly scare you that much that you would rather I kept my distance from you. And please do not lie to me again, it defeats the purpose,” he whispered in her ear again, his lips brushing her flesh.


Vasha sucked in her breath and shook her head, “Don't do this, yes I fear you, who doesn’t, you are the Death God. Once the Right hand of God then cast out of heaven, forsaken by God. And instead of going to hell, you chose to walk among the humans. Not mortal but not immortal, until a spell sent you to the fey realm, making you Sidhe, your powers still confined within your body. Then you were lured or seduced by a succubus, does not matter and turned into a vampire, full dead, not like my kind, who are still living and you became the Death God once more. Your touch can destroy any race, yes I fucking fear you Angelo Caduto Della Morte,” she said as she tried to get some space between them. He was doing things to her body with his nearness that she kept hidden from everyone. Dante chuckled at her words, fallen angel of death, it was quite impressive her wording of him and how true it was.

He had once served God as the Angel of Death then he had been cast out and chosen the mortal world as his home when God had forsaken him he had lived among the mortals for 2 centuries when a witch found him and sent him into the fey world changing him into a Sidhe. Later a vampire succubus had seduced him and turned him into a full dead vampire. But now, in Vasha’s room, he did not feel dead. In fact he felt alive, he could feel his heart beating, the blood flowing through his veins and he wanted answers. “Tell me something, Vasha, what is this place?” he asked, drawing her name out like a caress.

“It is my ancestral home,” she breathed out as she raised her eyes to his and looked at him. “And who’s magic resides here?” he asked curious. “My families and those who have died before them.” she replied. “Then it is your magic that gives me life isn’t it?” he asked lowly as he brushed his lips along her neck. Vasha froze and whimpered, “Please don’t do this to me,” she begged. Dante knew she wanted him, but was denying it; he just needed to convince her that he would not hurt her. “Your body says yes, while your mind says no. Why fight it? It was obvious by the way you reacted to me in the kitchen, you were attracted to me, like I was to you, so why fight it?” he whispered darkly against her skin. Vasha shivered as she shook her head, “Don’t please, oh god please, we can’t do this,” she begged as her body began to ache for more from him.



“Then tell me why I am alive in this house. Why my heart beats like yours does and why my blood now runs. Tell me Vasha, is it you doing this?” he growled against her neck as he fought to not sink his fangs into her skin, she was so warm and he could smell her blood. “Yes, oh god yes, it’s me. Don't do this please, let me go before it is to late,” she cried out as she struggled in earnest now, as she felt the air in the room change, she felt him tense against her and knew he was fighting a demon, his own. As quickly as he had pinned her to the wall, he released her. Vasha was not prepared and sunk to the floor, with a cry of surprise. Dante crashed through her window and vanished into the night. She sat in a daze on the floor, unsure of what had just happened, but knew that her powers affected Dante like his affected hers. A pounding on her door filtered into her conscious mind as well as her brother yelling her name.


She rose and went to the door and opened it, “What?” “I heard a crash. Are you ok?” he asked as he pushed her aside and entered her room and noticed the broken window and turned and looked at her, “What happened in here?” “Dante,” she said quietly and left the room. “What the hell do you mean, Dante?” he asked as he followed her out. “Look, Dante and I had a few words and then he suddenly crashed through the window and out into the night, seems this house does something to him and I do not think,” she paused then continued, “he is not liking it much,” she explained as she made a drink for both of them then downed hers and made another one and downed it. “What is really going on Vasha?” Vashon asked he had never seen his sister so riled. “He wants to feed the way vampires truly should feed,” she whispered as she stared at a picture of their father. “So he is out there hunting right now, looking for food is that what you’re saying?” Vashon asked in shock. “No, he is not hunting; he is getting some space from me. He wants to feed off of me.” she confessed.


“Jesus Christ, Vasha, it is forbidden,” her brother hissed as he turned to face her.




Chapter Two:
“I know it is forbidden,” she snapped then shook her head. “You do not understand Vashon; I want it just as much as he does. His magic is affecting me, like mine is him. The secret we hide is coming to life with him here. Soon all will know who we truly are and what we really are. It will be hard to keep our secret much longer,” Vasha said as she looked at him. Vashon was younger by mere seconds he had come out his hand wrapped around her ankle. But he had been turned the same time she had, by the same Master who they had later killed. He was 6’4”, with the same purple eyes, his hair was black like Dante’s with hues of blue and purple in it, he was muscular and he worked beside her as an assassin as well. It had been their true calling, but Vasha hid a secret from even her brother, and now Dante knew what she had been doing, all these years. “Yes Vasha, I know you have been feeding,” she heard him say in her head. God was nothing sacred these days, she thought to herself as she prepared to face him again.


It was daylight when Dante made his presence known and summoned Vasha to her office. Vasha was livid, this was her home, her domain and she was being summoned like a common servant to her own office. In fact by the time she reached her office, she was seething. She slammed the door open and snarled, “Let me explain the rules here, you are a guest, NOT my warden, so DO NOT summon me again like some petulant child who had been bad. I rule here NOT you.” “SIT DOWN,” Dante ordered his mood very foul. He had been prowling the streets all night trying to clear his mind. Yet all he wanted was to go back to Vasha, push her up against a wall and feed off of her body. She had awoken a hunger that had once been dormant for so long, he had forgotten it existed. Vasha looked at him and grumbled under her breath “bastardo insolent” as she for the first time in her adult life, stomped to a chair and sat in it. Dante jerked her up against him, “I suggest you watch your tongue and not refer to me as an insolent bastard again or you may regret it. Let us be clear on a few things Vasha, I will not let you insult me like you do everyone else. I will not let you rule me, remember who you are talking to when you speak to me,” he warned her, his voice low and ice cold then set her back from him and watched as she struggled to contain her rage.



“How dare you?” she snarled and slapped him.

The room grew very cold as Vasha realized her mistake and back away, putting space between them. But she had only taken a few steps back, when he slammed her into the wall behind her and held her by the throat. “I told you not to push me, yet you insist on it. Why do you fight me so hard?” he growled at her that voice of his sliding over her skin, and up her spine making her shiver. His eyes had gone pitch black and were unreadable, but the look on his face, was not one of anger, but one of a predator. Vasha realized this was going to end badly, if only she could control herself around him. But something about him just put her on edge. He made her want something that was forbidden. She wanted him, to feed her desire, her needs. To have her mouth on his throat to feel the blood warm and pulsing as it slid down her throat. Her hunger for him was sexual, there was no doubt about that, but it was also primal. She opened her mouth to apologize for her actions but never got the chance as Dante’s mouth descended on hers, hard and unyielding. Her gasp of surprise was caught in his mouth as he kissed her, his tongue invading her mouth, searching and teasing all at the same time. Vasha struggled against him as she fought to get free. But he remained up against her hard, devouring her mouth with his, till he heard her moan.

Then as suddenly as he had come at her, he released her and moved away, putting a lot of space between them. He watched her, barely in control of his own emotions and body. God, she made him hard with in seconds and no one had even been that lucky in his lifetime. Vasha stayed against the wall chest heaving, eyes dark from the desire he had called up. “Figlio fottuto di un femmina,” she cursed. Dante chuckled as she called him a fucking son of a bitch. Good he got to her like she did him and it seemed it affected her worse, because she reverted to Italian when she was angry. “Problems, Vasha?” he asked quietly. “Scopata fuori,” she snarled at him and left the room before he could stop her. Dante once again chuckled as she told him to fuck off and then left. That had not gone as he had planned it, but with her nothing had gone right from the beginning. Vasha had been nothing but hostile and cold to him, except when he got close, it was as if she could handle him if he was at a distance.



Little did either of them know that was about to change. Vasha made her retreat quickly, heading to the garage. She needed to think and with that man in her house, she could not. She could feel him constantly and it was getting worse. Her tight control was slipping fast and she could not have that, she could not allow Dante or anyone else to find out the dark sins that she and Vashon had committed. She could not allow anyone to know who they truly were. Snatching the keys from a board, she hopped into a black Porsche Carrera CT, and started the car. Minutes later she was racing down the freeway, headed outside city limits. Once outside of the city, she opened the car up fully, smiling as the engine revved and the car shot forward. She let her mind wander, trying to figure out what was going on. She knew that Dante’s magic was affecting her, but his was being affected as well. Diego would have never fed and Vasha would have never openly attacked him like she had, unless their magic was clashing. “Maledicalo,” she swore suddenly as she swerved to miss the car that was coming at her. She pulled over, “Damn it,” she snarled in English as she hit the steering wheel. This car was her baby, her pride and joy. It was a prototype the first one of its’ kind and she had snagged it. She fiercely guarded this car and let no one drive it, unless it was absolutely necessary.


She was just about to pull back onto the road when her cell phone rang. She hit the button, “Vasha here.” “Vasha baby, busy?” a deep male voice asked. “No, what do you need Simon?” she asked softly, knowing he had a job for her. “Got a client that wants someone removed from polite society and I thought of you,” Simon informed her. “Who’s the mark?” she asked quietly, her voice low and all business. “Mason Dixon, know him?” Simon asked. “Just from the social circle I travel in,” she said flatly, giving nothing away. She recognized the name, Mason Dixon was the youngest Senator to sit on the California Seat at 35, he was a very distinguished and famous political figure and currently fucking her, when the mood struck her. “You want the job?” Simon asked interrupting her train of thought.

“What is the client offering?” she asked all business again. “Now Vasha, you know I would never offer you a job unless, the client could pay what you ask,” Simon chastised her. “Good, then I take it, this is a one man job?” she inquired. “Of course, you do not need Vashon for this, if Mason knows you it will be easier, oh btw if it is done in 24 hours the price is doubled,” he tossed out. Vasha whistled and said, Ok Simon. I will call you when it is done. Have to make sure he works late,” she said. “He will be, all you have to do is get inside and out without being seen,” he said. “Call you when it is done,” she said and hung up. She peeled out and went back to the house, pulling into the garage.
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