Two of a Ind No More

We were the remaining two, the only ones to survive of our ancestry. Hundreds of years had passed, generations long gone, too many to remember though I swore each day in my dreams they haunted me. Some innocent, others like the previous night perhaps deserving of their fate but who was I to judge. There were days I cursed by sister, her illicit affair with the stranger from afar, his words mesmerizing her as he bestowed upon her the "gift" and in return she had crept to my bed. I had seen it, the madness in her eyes, the marks upon her neck but I was like an adolescent against the adult, her strength, her power coursing through her blood as she took away not only my childhood but my life.

I walked into the library, the heavy velvet curtains pulled, no light to invade this space, to think of such even hurts but not as badly as my heart which felt such cravings, such desires last night as I looked at the beauty named Gabrielle, her body so inviting, her breasts full, ripe with the thought of pleasure. Pouring myself a brandy, I downed the amber liquid, the fire burning quickly inside of me only to be soured by the sound of, "Dear brother, once again you have brought shame upon this family with your pitiful, misguided actions of last evening." Picking up the decanter, I filled my glass again, helpless to see my fingers tremble, some of the contents spill onto the carpet. "Perhaps I should have intervened, she would have been pure nectar, don't you think?"

Turning, my eyes growing dark I saw her, the woman who stood before me dressed in her perpetual look of youth, her body desired by any man who saw her, each of them simply a means to an ends for her. She was "pure" and her need greater than I, a "mixed breed" as she so aptly put it. Tonight she wore the guise of a common streetwalker, her hair and makeup outrageous, her body almost spilling out from behind what little clothing she wore. I knew on these nights she could be her most vicious, her actions toward those who would desire to use a woman's body for a pretty price savage to put it mildly.

"Well brother?"

I drained the remnants of my glass before hurling it, inches from her head and as it shattered against the bricks she moved not an inch. The smile on her face, the look of pure evil drawing my own anger as I walked toward her, my words curt, my voice a barely constrained scream. "I WOULD ADVISE YOU TO KEEP YOUR DISTANCE OR YOU WILL PAY FOR YOUR ACTIONS ISABELLA."

Her laughter rang out, though her smile did not find her eyes as I watched them begin to glow a fiery red as she glibly remarked, "And I would advise you to be careful dear Jonathan, I keep you around on a whim, you were not that good the first time and you certainly have not mellowed with age." The words and her laughter continued to resound in my ears long after she had made her exit and when I was alone I allowed my rage to overwhelm me, the sound of my anger a chilling howl, more animal than man.

I don't know how long it took for me to reclaim my own sense, my own purpose. My sister had always known how to enrage me, to bring out the worst, whether it is in hopes of pain or pleasure, playing with my mind like a virtuoso might a Stradivarius. Finally I was able to look in the mirror, to see the face of the human being, his eyes blues, his hair long, the color of chestnuts, not the most handsome of fellows but not repulsive either. A simple man whose life was complicated, a man who desired that which he knew he could never have, the love of another. It was the paradox, the cross I bore and though I would find myself once again walking the streets in vain this night, I still clung to a thread of hope which even I knew was as much an illusion as the promise of the women who called out from the darkness.

Moving silently, my gaze downward, not caring to look others directly in the eyes for fear they would immediately see the animal which lurked within I tried to ignore the propositions, the words of promise, of things done for the turn of a coin until finally I was past. Looking ahead, I saw a sign, a club which I had frequented only once in the past, having been careful to not allow myself the luxury of being remembered but as I stepped towards the entrance I heard something from down the alleyway. The sound was muffled, a voice tinged with fear. For a moment I almost walked past, an argument, a disagreement between lovers but as I reached out to take the doorknob in hand I heard a short scream and then the sound of a hand striking flesh.

Turning, my movements quick, my presence unnoticed I saw even in the dim light the figure sprawled on the ground, the hulking figure standing over her. His hand held some sort of weapon, a blade which glinted against the streetlight from afar and as I walked toward him I stepped on a bit of broken glass, the sound betraying my presence. Looking up, he turned snarling, "Hey asshole, I'd advise you to just keep walking if you know what's good for you."

I paid his words little heed, simply walking to where the woman lay, the bruise which would soon arise over her right eye already swelling. "Are you alright m'lady?"

I felt his hand reach out, grabbing my shoulder and when I turned I saw the knife come slashing down. I lifted up my arm, to deflect the blow and was rewarded with a slash which cut through my shirt, blood spilling from the wound as I looked at him, my eyes, my emotions at the sight of the scarlet seed providing me with the impetus toward my changing.

I could see the look in his eyes, changing swiftly from anger, then questioning and finally the fear which reflected back into mine. The talons which had begun to evolve from my clenched fists, their sharpness putting the pitiful excuse he carried for a weapon to shame. My smile now showed fangs as sharp as the claws which adorned my hands, as I prepared to unleash my fury upon him when I heard a soft moan behind me, the figure laying in the darkness trying to stand, losing her balance and falling hard to the cement. It was the sight of her, so vulnerable which cooled the blood in my veins, offering the man a chance to run from the alley, his footsteps echoing into the night.

Standing there, my chest heaving with my harsh breathing I focused, fighting back the urge until I felt it safe to step from the shelter of the night, moving quickly to her side. I saw her recoil, fearing yet another attacker but I tried to force a smile saying, "It's alright, he's gone, please let me help you." Her hand shook, reaching up and as I pulled her gently to her feet I saw her face more clearly, her eyes were brown, a beautiful color even bearing the pain that shone from them. Her hair was long, straight, the color not quite right, the look a bit askew though I knew not why. It was her smile though, even during such difficult times which struck me, her look of kindness for a stranger which warmed my heart.

"Thank you kind sir, you are my hero."

I shook my head, my heart dark, my soul burdened to hear of such. "I fear not m'lady, simply another who happened to pass this way and could not."

My words were quickly brought to a halt, her hand reaching to take my arm, her eyes wide as she said, "You're hurt, he cut you, that son of a bitch." To hear such words from a mouth which seemed to promise a kiss more than such took my aback as she took my hand saying, "Come on, I live close and we need to take a good look at that."

Once again I tried to shake my head in protest but when she looked at me her expression was of one who would take no such talk and with a sigh the two of us walked out of the alley and into the night, our hands entwined and little did I know our lives as well.

The apartment was not large, the accommodations though clean and neat. I stood there, holding my arm so that the blood would not spill, not spoil her surroundings. She returned, a towel in her hands which she pressed against the flesh, the cut by now almost clotted. "Follow me, I have a first aid kit and we really do need to clean that before we bandage it."

Once again I simply followed in her wake, an obedient pet at his Mistress's heels until she stopped, motioning for me to sit on the edge of the bathtub. I could see the hesitation in her eyes, knowing what I needed to do and I unbuttoned the shirt, letting it slide from my back until I sat there, my eyes cast downward, simply awaiting her decision that I might live or die from a wound which I knew was slight to my eyes but perhaps not so to hers.

As I sat there, I felt my heart hammering in my chest, the closeness of someone so beautiful, so kind and when she touched me with a tenderness like never before. The sigh which escaped my lips must have been mistaken for a signal of pain as her face turned distraught, her voice saying, "I'm sorry, I don't mean to hurt you. I, I don't even know your name. I'm Jacqueline, Jackie."

I shook my head slowly in reply, "You bring me no pain miss, 'tis a beautiful name m'lady, I am Jonathan, at your service."

The smile, the brief laughter which escaped her lips brought a puzzled look from I. "I'm sorry, I just don't meet many men who speak in such a manner, they tend to be a bit more, shall we say, rough at the edges."

I nodded, watching closely as she took the towel, my blood running through the water until it shone clean again. The bandage was neatly done, the covering to prevent any infection though by the time she had finished I saw in her eyes that she was nearing exhaustion, the evening having finally taken its toll on her. "M'lady, perhaps it would be best I were to take your leave, you need your rest."

She tried to smile but even that was forced, her posture betraying her bravado. "Maybe you're right but I don't want you to leave, I'd really like for you to stay, please?"

Reaching up she wearily too hold of her hair and I had to fight back a cry as she literally pulled it from her head, her soft curls falling to frame her weary face, the wig she had worn falling from her fingers to the floor.

She stood there, her body almost gently swaying, but forcing a smile to her lips, reaching up to touch my face saying, "I know how to please a man, how to thank you properly Jonathan."

My heart hurt to see how she would have done anything to please me, unknowing and I did the only thing I could under the circumstances. I allowed my eyes to fill with the same darkness that filled the night, looking down upon her as hers grew wide but then turned...cloudy.

I spoke, my voice calm, fluid, calling out to her subconscious, telling it, "You are a beautiful woman my fair Jacqueline, one who could indeed please a man in many ways. But for this time you must rest, finding that place between slumber and dreams, it calls to you and must answer...now."

Her body literally as if succumbing to my suggestion slumped into my arms and I picked her up as easily as if she were a doll. Carrying her down the hallway, towards the room at the end I was surprised to see a room of what would seem to be filled with contrasts. It stood predominantly pink yet the dolls and stuffed animals which adorned the bed were in contrast to the various wigs and sundry makeup which filled a table.

I laid her down gently on the bed, moving aside the various occupants before pulling up the blanket to cover her frame, my eyes a bit ashamed to view it with thoughts not completely pure. With a sigh, I turned, my eyes even in the darkness taking in the contents as of yet unseen.

The clothing was too was markedly different, from the ridiculous to the sublime. Some plain, some elaborate and as I turned and looked at the vision before me I wondered just how many different women lived in such a complex creature. It was as if she could hear my thoughts, her cry loud, her dreams, or her recollection of what had just transpired haunting her as I knelt beside her bed.

My line was capable of many things, great cruelty as shown by my "sibling" or great pleasure, a touch of which I willingly shared, my hand caressing her face, seeing as the pain which etched it was replaced, a soft moan escaping her lips as I spoke saying, "No harm shall befall you this night m'lady, this I swear. Sleep the sleep of decadent dreams, untold pleasures and I shall watch over you, you have my word."

And thus, the night passed. I stood by her side, watching in the darkness, my mind, my thoughts many. As the hours passed, her pain seemed to pass and my touch was needed less and less. Perhaps it was asking too much of me not to wish it were not so but in the end I knew it was as it should be. It was only though when I happened to glance out the window that I viewed the dawn and I felt the panic which gripped the coldness of my heart.

I could not stay, for her to awaken and find me having died, the enforced slumber which I was destined for would leave her to find madness, something I wished on no one. Instead all I could do, was flee.

My steps were hurried, soon I was running, my steps light but the race one I was afraid would not be mine to win. I had tarried too long, unwilling to leave her side and for that I would pay. As I reached the corner to the brownstone, the sun had come over the horizon, its warmth, its rays with their touch like that of a dagger, piercing me.

The last few steps if viewed by another looked like a drunk returning from a night spent far too long at the bar. Each lurching movement leading me toward the door, my hands shaking visibly as I reached the doorstep, the key for a brief moment in my grasp only to fall to the stoop, my knees buckling as I fell to them.

My head hung down, like a dog panting as I heard the door open, a voice cruelly saying, "Well, well. Look what the cat drug in." I tried to pull myself toward the opening, to find the sanctuary I needed in the darkness within but she stood in the doorway, safe from the pain I was enduring while continuing, "What, nothing to say to me now dear brother? You were full of yourself only last night but now, now look at you."

I forced my face upwards, my hand reaching out, trembling uncontrollably but her eyes showed no compassion. "I know where you've been dear boy, what you haven't done. Do you not know that by refusing to feed you bring me pain? Well, this time you'll pay dearly for your indiscretion, this I promise you. James, come here."

The doorway was filled, the sight leaving my blood, if it could have possibly been, cold. The hulking figure who stood there was the same one who I had rescued the woman I had only recently left sleeping, his eyes filled with hate, his hands in fists, the two puncture wounds on his neck proof of his loyalty to the woman he stood beside.

I could see murder in his eyes as he advanced upon me only to be beckoned by his Mistress saying, "I need him alive James, is that clear?"

The large man nodded, his mind incapable of much thought, only action but he already knew I was sure the penalty to disobey would be great though he was smart enough to watch her turn before looking at me and with an evil grin, his boot kicked me in the side of my face and the world exploded into darkness.

Jacqueline awoke, her body tangled in the sheets, her face flush, the dream so real, so vivid that she could feel her bodies pleasure, a blush racing to her cheeks yet a smile playing on her lips. She turned her head saying, "Jonathan?", looking for the man, the long haired kind stranger but there was only the light of day spilling into the window to greet her.

With a sigh, she freed herself, stopping, looking down to see she was dressed exactly as she had left the apartment the previous night, a look of puzzlement filling her face, wondering how. "Jonathan?", she called out tentatively but once again, her only reply...was silence.

She stood, for a moment feeling a brief bout of dizziness overtake her and with a frown she remembered the night before, her steps taking her to the bathroom where she saw the reflection of a young woman, her face already bruising, the blow she had taken from the prospective client having been a brutal one. She touched it, wincing at the pain but already trying to decide how makeup might cover it for there were bills to pay and last night had not been...fruitful.

She glanced over, seeing the remnants of the bandage, the blood almost growing pale in the wastebasket, thinking for a moment how much worse the wound had looked than what she saw. It was her thoughts of him though that caused her this time to feel a bit disorientated, wondering what might have happened, knowing her body felt...well, sated.

Reaching up for her robe, she walked down the hallway into the kitchen, flipping the switch to start the coffee, surprised to see the clock on the wall showing it was already afternoon, her rest having taken her almost fourteen hours into the future.

Sipping the delicious, hot beverage she stood there, her mind trying to remember exactly what had transpired the night before. She remembered standing in the bathroom, reaching up, his face, his eyes but then, there was nothing. It was like she had dreamed it though she knew from the way she was feeling, something had transpired but for the life of her, she knew not what.

With a sigh, she began to walk back down the hallway only to be stopped by a knock at the door. Turning, she made her way cautiously, looking out through the peephole to see a woman standing there, a bouquet of flowers in her hand, the name of a local florist on her shirt.

Opening the door, the woman smiled saying, "Excuse me, are you Jacqueline?" She nodded, the delivery made, the flowers handed through the door as she wished her a good day, seconds later the door shut and the fragrance filling the room.

Putting them on the table, looking at the dazzling array of roses and star gazer lilies she saw the small card attached, her name written in bold script on the front. Opening the card, her heart jumped reading the words, the tone as if listening to him speak saying, "My dearest Jacqueline, a thousand pardons for having to leave your side before you awakened. Please forgive me by joining me this night for dinner. This I beg of thee fair lady. The address is 1212 Castleberry Lane, tonight at eight p.m. I remain, your humble servant." The single initial J adorned the bottom and she smiled anew, her thoughts already on the night ahead, little knowing, it was...a trap. That night she arrived on time, her body and mind a bit at odds, outside dressed properly, underneath though, it had been far too long since she had allowed herself to prepare like this for a man and her emotions were waging a war, one she knew if possible her body would win. It was only when the door opened, a strange woman standing there, a bit of a smile on her face that for the first time she felt a bit, taken aback.

The woman was stunning, a beautiful figure, eyes that could she feared read her soul and she blushed as she heard her laugh saying, "Excuse me my dear, where are my manners? I'm Isabella, Jonathan's sister, he's told me so much about you and your ordeal last night. It's must have been...horrific. Won't you please come in?"

The door closed moments later, the lock being put in place as the woman turned, her smile not quite right but her eyes, it was her eyes which drew her in, as if changing from one color to the next, 's eyes blinking, as if being hypnotized as she heard, "Jonathan sends his apologies, he's a bit...tied up at the moment but you should see him shortly. Might I get you a glass of wine?"

Moments later she returned, tray in hand, two glasses of red wine and as she drank from hers, Jacqueline watched, seeing how she savored the taste, the texture, almost orgasmic in her actions. Isabella's eyes opened slowly, seeing how the woman before her could not take her eyes off her and she smiled again, this time wickedly as she said, "Jonathan should be able to see you now my dear. He's downstairs, the last door on the right, I know he's looking forward to it. Go to him, now."