Returning to the Past
folder
Vampire › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
4
Views:
742
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Vampire › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
4
Views:
742
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
Wishing Upon a Star
CHAPTER 1: So this is the one....
Long black hair curled down on either side of his face, framing it within the curls. His Victorianesque clothes were very well kept, and he looked almost as if he had just come from a fancy ball or a Renaissance Fair. The color of his eyes was indistinguishable behind the silver-framed, gold-lensed sunglasses he wore. His eyes were directed at the retreating figure of the female that had just walked off from the table next to him, though no one would know. An argument had ensued, followed by her smacking the gentleman that she was with and storming off. Kintaru had been keeping track of her movements when she was with this loser for weeks now, and he knew their schedule to the tee. He could be at any of the places where they were about to be, leaving twenty minutes later, and still be there five to ten minutes before.
He stood, leaving more than enough cash on the table to cover his bill, and left the restaurant, his hand – seemingly by accident – brushing the shoulder of the man she had just argued with. Inexplicably, the young man’s head collapsed forward into his soup bowl, drawing the stares of several of the other patrons, who knew that he was just arguing with his now EX-girlfriend.
Kintaru strode out into the daylight, his eyes smarting even behind the sunglasses that shaded them. He shook his head slightly, adjusting the glasses up further on his nose, as he set out down the street, nearly invisible even in the little bit of shadow that was there on the side of the street at midday. His eyes narrowed slightly, watching her walk down the street, lighting up a cigarette as she went. He smirked. “A bit attached to your habits, aren’t you, my pretty?” came a smooth, sibilant voice as he laughed slightly. She glanced both ways, before crossing the street.
Kintaru was waiting for her, though she didn’t know it, when she finally made it across. He had merely used the shadows to his advantage. One of the things that had come to him a while ago. He sniffed as she went by, and caught not only her scent and a sweet cloying scent that he recognized, and that threatened to awaken something within him, but also the tang of metal. She was armed. Good. He didn’t need to risk being seen by his Kindred if she was attacked. He had made it clear to the Council that she was his, and that he would severely punish anyone presumptuous enough to claim her.
He smiled as she stopped for a moment, glancing around as though she thought she had seen or heard something. He sent a mental prompt out, and she shook her head, and walked on. As she did, he smiled, hearing her mutter, “I really need to stop letting these stupid males get to me. I’m starting to lose my mind.”
As she continued on, Kintaru gave her ten paces, then started after her. He was determined to keep up with her this time, because tonight would be the night that his plan was put into place. He locked his strongest senses on her, and began to reminisce.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Two months earlier....
“Yes, your honors, I am certain that she is the one,” Kintaru, prince of the Third House of the Kindred, stated firmly. “And it is my intent to add her to our ranks. But not until such time as I believe she is ready.”
Kintaru was standing in the center of a semicircle comprised of thirteen chair, the one in the middle elevated much higher than the others. The one to the left of this central chair was empty, but the other twelve were full.
The Kindred seated in the center of the semicircle, Lord Marius Dire Draconis, sighed. “Kintaru, how many times have we gone through this? Time after time, you Embrace ‘the one’. And time after time, ‘the one’ is foisted upon this council, upon which you should sit, as head of the Third House, because they are not what you thought. We gro–“
Kintaru interjected forcibly. “Sire, she IS the one. This time, I know for certain.” He shook his head. “Don’t ask me how I know, but she is. I have followed her for three weeks now, and there is no mistaking the way she carries herself.”
Eramis, the Kindred to the right of Marius, chose this moment to interject his foolish opinion. “Kintaru, perhaps you should leave this one to one of us on this council. Sometimes you have proven to have remarkably poor judgment, especially for your three and a half–“
“Eramis, you know as well as I do that your opinion is only here because you are the head of Second House. Be silent, I have no time for your useless ramblings.” He looked back at Marius. “My lord, give me one more chance. That’s all I ask of you. I KNOW that she is the one we have sought for so long. Finally, the recombination of bloodlines will occur, and there will be a TRUE Speaker of the Kindred.”
Eramis turned a bright crimson at Kintaru’s comments, and began to interrupt, but Marius cut him off with a sharp hand gesture. “Very well, Kintaru. You may have your one more chance. But if you fail, Third House will be wiped from the record books of the Kindred.”
Kintaru smiled grimly. “And know this, Marius. If anyone interferes with my plans, I will personally call out a blood hunt on the one that has done so.”
Marius simply nodded, and Kintaru bowed, and departed.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Kintaru pulled himself back to the present just in time to turn the corner behind her, and smiled as she began fishing in her purse for her keys. He sent out another mental prompt, and then stopped to watch. She walked up to one of the doors, inserted the key, opened the door, and went in. He listened, and unlike the other times that he had followed her, heard silence on the knob. He grinned. She had left her door unlocked this time. His mental suggestion had taken root.
He settled down, leaning against the wall, to wait until night, for that would be when he would be at his best.... and most alluring, as he had already proven.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
She sighed, throwing her jacket on the couch inside the front door. Something told her not to lock the door as she turned to do so, and so she turned back, and walked into the den, flipping on the TV. News, all of it the same as last night. Rapes on one corner, shootings and muggings on another. She sighed, and turned the TV off. This was supposed to be a fun day for her, but when she was on her way to lunch with her boyfriend, who had just gotten off of work, she answered a phone call for him. Turned out he had been running around behind on her, fucking his little blonde slut of a secretary.
So it was that instead of being proposed to in one of the fanciest restaurants in town, she dumped her boyfriend. And now she was pissed. Walking into the kitchen, she reached into the cabinet above the stove, pulling down a half pint bottle of Southern Comfort, and a shot glass. But after a few moment’s thought, she set the shot glass back in the cupboard. Pulling the top off, she took a long swig on the bottle, wiping her mouth with the sleeve of her shirt. Looking at her arm, she set the bottle down, and practically peeled the shirt off. Her breasts swung freely, finally freed of the tight shirt she was wearing. Picking up the bottle, she walked back into the den, collapsing onto the sofa again, pressing the remote for the stereo on top of her entertainment center. It started up, belting out a slow love song. She pressed the button to skip that song. “Fuck you, Richard. You’re going to run around behind my back, you’re ass is completely out of my life,” she said, backing up and deleting that song.
The next song, Nancy Sinatra's These Boots Are Made For Walking, fit her mood better, and she sung along, changing a few of the lyrics to fit her. She took another pull on the bottle, and hiccuped. “Dammit. Should have *hic* eaten before I started.” She attempted to get off the sofa, but only succeeded in almost dropping the bottle. “Fuck it. I’m already gonna be sick in the morning, might as well throw a hangover into the mix too.”
Twenty minutes later, the bottle was empty, and she was out like a light. The house was quiet for about three more hours, getting darker and darker, until there was the creak of the door opening.....
Long black hair curled down on either side of his face, framing it within the curls. His Victorianesque clothes were very well kept, and he looked almost as if he had just come from a fancy ball or a Renaissance Fair. The color of his eyes was indistinguishable behind the silver-framed, gold-lensed sunglasses he wore. His eyes were directed at the retreating figure of the female that had just walked off from the table next to him, though no one would know. An argument had ensued, followed by her smacking the gentleman that she was with and storming off. Kintaru had been keeping track of her movements when she was with this loser for weeks now, and he knew their schedule to the tee. He could be at any of the places where they were about to be, leaving twenty minutes later, and still be there five to ten minutes before.
He stood, leaving more than enough cash on the table to cover his bill, and left the restaurant, his hand – seemingly by accident – brushing the shoulder of the man she had just argued with. Inexplicably, the young man’s head collapsed forward into his soup bowl, drawing the stares of several of the other patrons, who knew that he was just arguing with his now EX-girlfriend.
Kintaru strode out into the daylight, his eyes smarting even behind the sunglasses that shaded them. He shook his head slightly, adjusting the glasses up further on his nose, as he set out down the street, nearly invisible even in the little bit of shadow that was there on the side of the street at midday. His eyes narrowed slightly, watching her walk down the street, lighting up a cigarette as she went. He smirked. “A bit attached to your habits, aren’t you, my pretty?” came a smooth, sibilant voice as he laughed slightly. She glanced both ways, before crossing the street.
Kintaru was waiting for her, though she didn’t know it, when she finally made it across. He had merely used the shadows to his advantage. One of the things that had come to him a while ago. He sniffed as she went by, and caught not only her scent and a sweet cloying scent that he recognized, and that threatened to awaken something within him, but also the tang of metal. She was armed. Good. He didn’t need to risk being seen by his Kindred if she was attacked. He had made it clear to the Council that she was his, and that he would severely punish anyone presumptuous enough to claim her.
He smiled as she stopped for a moment, glancing around as though she thought she had seen or heard something. He sent a mental prompt out, and she shook her head, and walked on. As she did, he smiled, hearing her mutter, “I really need to stop letting these stupid males get to me. I’m starting to lose my mind.”
As she continued on, Kintaru gave her ten paces, then started after her. He was determined to keep up with her this time, because tonight would be the night that his plan was put into place. He locked his strongest senses on her, and began to reminisce.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Two months earlier....
“Yes, your honors, I am certain that she is the one,” Kintaru, prince of the Third House of the Kindred, stated firmly. “And it is my intent to add her to our ranks. But not until such time as I believe she is ready.”
Kintaru was standing in the center of a semicircle comprised of thirteen chair, the one in the middle elevated much higher than the others. The one to the left of this central chair was empty, but the other twelve were full.
The Kindred seated in the center of the semicircle, Lord Marius Dire Draconis, sighed. “Kintaru, how many times have we gone through this? Time after time, you Embrace ‘the one’. And time after time, ‘the one’ is foisted upon this council, upon which you should sit, as head of the Third House, because they are not what you thought. We gro–“
Kintaru interjected forcibly. “Sire, she IS the one. This time, I know for certain.” He shook his head. “Don’t ask me how I know, but she is. I have followed her for three weeks now, and there is no mistaking the way she carries herself.”
Eramis, the Kindred to the right of Marius, chose this moment to interject his foolish opinion. “Kintaru, perhaps you should leave this one to one of us on this council. Sometimes you have proven to have remarkably poor judgment, especially for your three and a half–“
“Eramis, you know as well as I do that your opinion is only here because you are the head of Second House. Be silent, I have no time for your useless ramblings.” He looked back at Marius. “My lord, give me one more chance. That’s all I ask of you. I KNOW that she is the one we have sought for so long. Finally, the recombination of bloodlines will occur, and there will be a TRUE Speaker of the Kindred.”
Eramis turned a bright crimson at Kintaru’s comments, and began to interrupt, but Marius cut him off with a sharp hand gesture. “Very well, Kintaru. You may have your one more chance. But if you fail, Third House will be wiped from the record books of the Kindred.”
Kintaru smiled grimly. “And know this, Marius. If anyone interferes with my plans, I will personally call out a blood hunt on the one that has done so.”
Marius simply nodded, and Kintaru bowed, and departed.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Kintaru pulled himself back to the present just in time to turn the corner behind her, and smiled as she began fishing in her purse for her keys. He sent out another mental prompt, and then stopped to watch. She walked up to one of the doors, inserted the key, opened the door, and went in. He listened, and unlike the other times that he had followed her, heard silence on the knob. He grinned. She had left her door unlocked this time. His mental suggestion had taken root.
He settled down, leaning against the wall, to wait until night, for that would be when he would be at his best.... and most alluring, as he had already proven.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
She sighed, throwing her jacket on the couch inside the front door. Something told her not to lock the door as she turned to do so, and so she turned back, and walked into the den, flipping on the TV. News, all of it the same as last night. Rapes on one corner, shootings and muggings on another. She sighed, and turned the TV off. This was supposed to be a fun day for her, but when she was on her way to lunch with her boyfriend, who had just gotten off of work, she answered a phone call for him. Turned out he had been running around behind on her, fucking his little blonde slut of a secretary.
So it was that instead of being proposed to in one of the fanciest restaurants in town, she dumped her boyfriend. And now she was pissed. Walking into the kitchen, she reached into the cabinet above the stove, pulling down a half pint bottle of Southern Comfort, and a shot glass. But after a few moment’s thought, she set the shot glass back in the cupboard. Pulling the top off, she took a long swig on the bottle, wiping her mouth with the sleeve of her shirt. Looking at her arm, she set the bottle down, and practically peeled the shirt off. Her breasts swung freely, finally freed of the tight shirt she was wearing. Picking up the bottle, she walked back into the den, collapsing onto the sofa again, pressing the remote for the stereo on top of her entertainment center. It started up, belting out a slow love song. She pressed the button to skip that song. “Fuck you, Richard. You’re going to run around behind my back, you’re ass is completely out of my life,” she said, backing up and deleting that song.
The next song, Nancy Sinatra's These Boots Are Made For Walking, fit her mood better, and she sung along, changing a few of the lyrics to fit her. She took another pull on the bottle, and hiccuped. “Dammit. Should have *hic* eaten before I started.” She attempted to get off the sofa, but only succeeded in almost dropping the bottle. “Fuck it. I’m already gonna be sick in the morning, might as well throw a hangover into the mix too.”
Twenty minutes later, the bottle was empty, and she was out like a light. The house was quiet for about three more hours, getting darker and darker, until there was the creak of the door opening.....