FATE OF THE HEART
Mandy M. Roth

 
 
Dedication:
Michelle, not only do you not mind the frantic late night emergency calls you seem to encourage them. Thanks for always being there to help verify that I’m well on my way to creating another bizarre tale, and thanks for adding your own weirdness to the mix.

 
 
Prologue

France, 1754
Jean-Pierre ran forward, unable to make sense of the carnage around him. The smell of blood was thick in the air and the demon within him wanted to rise up.
Who could have done such a thing? Why would they want to tear his home apart? 
“Elise Marie, ma sucré?” Panic ripped through him as he searched through the destruction. The walls had been torched and the smell of death clung to the air. Running full force through his home, he stumbled over the something. He gasped as he looked down to find Elise Marie’s limp body lying on the cold floor. 
Pulling her into his arms, he held her tight. “Why?” he cried out as he rocked his wife of one night in his arms. She’d agreed to the turning and he’d been prepared to bring her over to an eternal life of youth and strength. But it had all been ripped away from him. Stolen, in just the blink of an eye.
“I swear that I will avenge your death. All who did this will feel my wrath.” 
Jean-Pierre let his fangs extend and felt his eyes shifting colors. There would be no mercy for the ones who had slain his wife, his sweet Elise Marie. It mattered not that they had most likely come to slay him--the great vampire who had lived among them in peace for so many years. His own foolish heart had led him out amongst the living. When he’d seen Elise Marie’s sweet face, he’d known that she was the one for him. The one that would be his wife--his life mate. 
The townspeople were suspicious of his affection for one of their own and had come to put an end to him.
“I will find you again, my love. I promise you that, ma amour.”
* * * *
Jean-Pierre stood near the edge of the large black cauldron. The three hag sisters cackled as they tossed the last of the ingredients into the mixture. He watched as the lock of hair he’d cut from Elise was absorbed into their potion. 
“Tell me what you see, sisters.” He didn’t want to wait around for their magic to take hold. He needed an answer. He needed the power of the seers regardless of how touched in the head they were. 
Unlike his kind, the hags never went to the surface, not unless they were forced. They lived in caves and underground dwellings, rarely venturing out, and almost never coming into contact with humans. It was bound to drive them insane being cooped up like that for centuries. They were destined to be twisted in some demented way, but he couldn’t think about that now. No. Now, he had to find out when he would see his love again. 
“Be silent, vampire,” they answered in unison, as they always did. Each sister was as blind and as ugly as the next one. If it wasn’t for their supernatural expertise, he’d have never called upon them for help. He needed their guidance, regardless of how he felt about them. 
The cauldron bubbled and the greenish-brown brew let off a pungent gas. Jean-Pierre coughed and covered his mouth. “Do it! Assure me that she will return.” 
“We warn you that you risk the wrath of the powers that be. Your loved one died and it is not wise to go against fate.” 
“I do not care about fate or the powers that be. Elise was stolen from me, and I will not rest until she is in my arms again. My heart is weak without her.” 
The cauldron rocked and its contents spilled onto the floor. The sisters backed away quickly and grabbed one another. “You have angered the gods. You will have your love back. Two hundred and fifty years from now, when you have learned to control the demon within you, she will return. But be warned … your weakened heart is no longer your own to bear, and the misconceptions of humans will never change.” 
Their laughter filled the room as Jean-Pierre turned to storm out. 
“I do not care, so long as I have her returned to me.” 
“Then so shall it be, vampire.” They laughed in union. “Where do you go now?” 
“I go to kill every last man and woman that took part in her death. They thought me to be a monster before, ha! Now, they will see what pure evil is.” 
  
Chapter One
America, present day
“Are you sure that you want to go to this party?” 
Elise looped her arm through her grandmother’s and smiled. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. Dubois Manor has been empty for ages. I don’t recall a time that I haven’t been fascinated by it. The new owner’s idea of throwing a Halloween Party for the entire town is genius! He’ll win them over in no time flat.” She took a deep breath in and savored the smell of the fresh, October air. “I need this, Grandma. I need to be someone else for a bit.” 
“I understand, dear,” her grandmother said, patting her hand. “Well then, let’s find you a costume. Do you think they’re still open? It’s late, you know.”
Elise knew that her grandmother worried about her. Hell, everyone in the town worried about her. That’s why she’d decided to wait until sunset to go find a costume. Broad daylight meant that the entire town was out and about, and she wanted no part of that. 
“What do you want to go as? How about a genie? That would look sexy on that tiny body of yours. I have a sneaky suspicion that you’ll be meeting the man of your dreams soon, my dear, and it’d be nice if you could blow his socks off--both literally and figuratively.” 
“Grandma!” Elise said, laughing. Reaching to open the costume shop’s door, she collided with someone else. “Ouch!” 
“Excusez-moi,” a deep, heavily accented voice said. She glanced up to find a tall man with chin-length black hair standing before her. Light blue eyes stared down at her and her heart beat faster. His large, muscular frame blocked the rest of the sidewalk and for a moment, she could have sworn that she knew him. 
Steady, think happy, calming thoughts, she thought to herself. The last thing she needed was her heart rate to skyrocket. Her grandmother would call an ambulance and she’d spend Halloween in the hospital--again. 
The breathtaking stranger before her was dressed head to toe in black. With his pale skin, blue eyes, and dark hair, he commanded her attention. His full lips formed a smile and she could see the muscles in his thick neck working. He pulled the shop door open and bowed his head slightly. “S’il vous plait.”
“Oh, devilishly good looking and French … you can hardly beat that, can you, dear? See, I told you Mr. Right would appear soon,” Grandmother said with a hint of mischief in her voice. 
“Umm, thanks,” Elise said, as she entered the shop. She didn’t want to look away from the man. There was something so familiar about him, yet he was a perfect stranger to her. She’d never been to France. Hell, she’d never been outside of Pisqualla. 
Jean-Pierre watched the woman as she did her best to avoid looking at him. He could hardly contain his excitement, being this close to her. She was even more beautiful than he remembered. He’d spent over two hundred and fifty years searching for her, knowing that she’d return to him a some point in time. Now, he’d finally found her and it took everything in him to not grab her and hold her close. 
He’d sensed her presence almost twenty years earlier. He’d purchased a home, long ago, on a whim, and found it odd that he’d sense Elise Marie in the same small town. Venturing to Pisqualla, he’d found no sign of Elise Marie, but had felt her near. It wasn’t until a month ago, when he’d decided to stop in to check on his property, that he’d finally seen her. Jean-Pierre couldn’t believe his eyes. She’d been sitting on a bench in the park with the woman who accompanied her now, a woman that had paid him a visit once, long ago. His Elise Marie was back and standing right before him. 
Elise chanced a quick look over her shoulder and found the handsome stranger looking at her. Her face reddened and she quickly looked away. “Margaret,” she shouted, with a bit too much enthusiasm. 
The shop owner turned and flashed a large smile. “Elise, how are you doing tonight?” 
“Good, Margaret, thanks. So, what do you have that can transform me into something beautiful?” Elise asked, softly. No part of her wanted the sexy stranger to overhear her. 
“Oh, sweetie, I’ve got nothing here that can even compare to you, but I’ll give it shot,” Margaret said, chomping on her bubble gum. For a woman in her early sixties, she acted more like a teenager than she should. There had always been something odd about her that Elise couldn’t put her finger on. Margaret narrowed her eyes on Elise. “You aren’t planning on going to that big ol’ shindig up at the Dubois place, are you?” 
Elise nodded, sure that a lecture was to follow. Everyone seemed to have an opinion on what she should and should not do. Sure, her heart was bad and she’d already exceeded the time the doctors thought she had, but she was still breathing and that was all that mattered. They treated her like a porcelain doll--always had. 
From the moment she’d been born, she’d been treated with kid gloves. Her heart had given out on her a few days after birth, but miraculously, she’d survived. Now, with twenty-five years under her belt, she’d outlived what the experts had told her family. As much as she wanted to celebrate, Elise knew that her heart wouldn’t hold out forever. In fact, she’d been going through pills at an alarming rate and knew that the end was approaching quickly. 
The announcement of a Halloween party at Dubois Manor had been the ray of sunshine in her otherwise dismal existence. She’d been forced to move in with her grandmother when it became apparent that she’d not be able to work full time any longer. But none of that mattered now. What mattered was finding a costume to wear to the party. 
“Elise, you can’t be serious about traipsing up to that old place with a bunch of drunks and sinners. Lord only knows what kind of man bought that place. Who comes into town and throws a party like that before he even introduces himself? I’ve heard that he’s the devil himself. That whole line of Dubois is, you know. Come straight from hell they did … mmmhmmm,” Margaret said. “Betty Sue, you going to let her go?” 
Elise glanced over at her grandmother and laughed when she saw her doing her best to ignore Margaret. Zealots seemed to flock to the tiny town and for some reason they’d elected Margaret as their leader. It was odd that she ran a costume shop, but then again, everything about Margaret tended to be odd. 
Elise was about to comment on her rather rude remarks when the sexy stranger walked up. He laid a long black dress with what looked to be a spider web pattern all over it on the counter. It was sheer and had a creepy yet erotic flare to it. “I think this would look stunning on you. It would bring out your green eyes.” 
“Nonsense! Elise wouldn’t be caught dead….” Margaret stopped instantly and looked around nervously. 
“It’s okay, Margaret, I know what you meant.” She looked up at the stranger and laughed. “So, you do speak English.” 
“Oui, I speak many languages.” He put his hand out. Elise was immediately struck by how pale and smooth his skin was. “I am Jean-Pierre.” 
Taking his hand gently, Elise gasped as a surge of energy ran up her arm. He felt so familiar, so right. “Elise.” 
“Elise. That is a beautiful name.” 
“Thank you. It was my mother’s idea. She said that I visited her dreams before I was born and told her what to call me.” She had no idea why she’d blurted out something so personal and so insane to a complete stranger. Elise attempted to pull her hand from his, but he held tight. 
“I am pleased that your mother listened to her dreams,” he said, bringing her hand to his cool lips. 
Elise’s knees weakened as Jean-Pierre kissed her hand. He flickered his tongue out and over the back of her hand and her heart fluttered. Dizziness swept in and, for a minute, she saw two of Jean-Pierre standing before her--not that it was a bad thing. 
Reaching out to steady herself, she felt Jean-Pierre’s other hand move around her waist. “Are you well?” 
“I’m … I’m….” His blue eyes held her attention and she lost her train of thought. 
“Take your hands off our Elise this instant, you hooligan!” Margaret shouted. 
“Elise, dear, are you okay?” Elise heard her grandmother talking to her, but couldn’t seem to look away from Jean-Pierre. Something about him held her attention. “Elise Marie Wiseman, answer me this minute or I will call an ambulance.” 
“I’m fine, Grandma. I promise.” 
An ambulance? Jean-Pierre thought to himself. Why would one as young as Elise need an ambulance? His vampire senses allowed him to sense death and sickness and both times that he’d seen Elise with the other woman he’d assumed that the sickness that he sensed was that of the old woman’s. Now, as he noted the concerned looks of the sales clerk and elderly woman, he realized that the sickness he sensed was that of Elise. 
His throat tightened and he fought the demon inside him down. He’d never dreamt that she’d be ill. Looking at her skin, he saw that it was as pale as his own. Her green eyes looked tired and it hit him just how tiny she truly was. “You are ill.” 
She looked away, as if she was ashamed of this fact. “I’m fine. They worry too much. They’re always going on and on about me and treating me like a child. It’s really rather silly. I’ll probably out live them.” 
Jean-Pierre knew that she lied. He could smell it on her. She knew how near the end she was but she hid it from the others. She would not slip away from him again. No, he’d waited too long for her to return. She was his everything and his blood alone could save her--make her whole, healthy, and immortal.
“You should be home, resting,” Jean-Pierre said, softly, not wanting to let go of her. 
You should be in my home where you belong, he thought to himself. 
She looked up at him with wide eyes. “I said I’m fine and I meant it. I just need a minute, that’s all. Sometimes things just get away from me. I’ll be fine in a minute.” Sweat beaded on her forehead. He could sense how her heart struggled to keep up its frantic pace. It was so weak, so tired, and so stubborn to have held on as long as it had. She had suffered much in her life and he hadn’t been there to ease her pain. Guilt washed over him as he thought of what he could have done to help her all these years. A few drops of his blood could have eased her suffering, strengthened her heart, at least temporarily. 
“Had I only found you sooner, you would not have suffered so.” He stroked her hand and was pleased to find it so warm and inviting. 
Elise smiled softly and reached her hand up slowly to his face. Running her thumb over his bottom lip, she sighed. “Why would you say such a thing?” 
It hit him then that he’d spoken aloud. Telling her that she was his reincarnated wife seemed a bit much so he opted for a different reply. Leaning down to her he let his lips hover dangerously close to her own. Warm, welcoming breath greeted him as she moved in to meet his advance. Fire shot through his groin, as her sweet mouth pressed to his. When she parted her lips and allowed his tongue to slide in, he thought that he would melt into a puddle on the floor or come in his pants. The idea of peaking before the act itself shamed him. He was conditioned to be patient, not to almost lose it the moment he touched Elise’s sweet lips once again. 
It had been too long without the feel of her kiss. Too long without the touch of her hands, the feel of her warm pussy wrapped round his cock, and too long without hearing the soft cries of ecstasy fall from her lips. She’d been a fierce lover who gave as good as she got. The best part of it all was that she’d been his and his alone. The need to claim her again was strong and he had to focus on something, anything, to keep from doing it in the middle of the shop. 
The shopkeeper’s voice boomed in around them, but Jean-Pierre used his supernatural gifts to block her out. Her disapproval was evident, but he didn’t care. Still, there was something about the woman that bothered him. Now wasn’t the time to worry about that though. No, now he had his Elise back. 
Wrapping his arms around Elise, he held her tight. Their kiss turned fiery and he sensed her heart rate increasing rapidly. Not wanting to jeopardize her health before he did a full blood exchange with her, he let his fangs descend and raked his tongue across them. Blood pooled quickly in his mouth and he thrust his tongue deeper. Sucking softly on it, Elise swallowed his blood--his power. 
When he pulled away he noticed her sleepy eyes. It was normal for a human to react this way, or so he’d been told. He’d never actually given blood to anyone before. He’d saved himself for two hundred and fifty years in every way imaginable. 
Elise touched her swollen lips and stared at him. She shook her head slightly before turning to the elderly woman she’d arrived with. “I have to go, Grandma.” 
“After that kiss … hmm, I think we should check your heart rate, sweetie.” 
“I’m fine.” Elise said, pushing past Jean-Pierre and running through the door. 
 
Chapter Two 
“Come, ma amour. Let me see all of you.” 
Elise turned slowly, looking through the mist for the source of the voice. “Jean-Pierre?” 
A soft laugh answered her. She moved down the dark corridor quickly and did her best to see through the rising fog. “Jean-Pierre, is that you?” 
“You are so certain that it is I, yet I am but a stranger to you.” He sounded so close, yet she could not find him. 
He was right though, he was a stranger but she just knew it was him. She also knew that she was dreaming. There was no way she could move this fast in real life without stopping to take a break. “This is my dream and if I say it’s you, then it’s you. Let a girl have her erotic dream about the hot French man in peace, will ya?” 
He chuckled. “You are even more amusing than you once were. No longer are you meek and accepting. You are strong now and I admire that.” 
“Everything but my heart’s strong, you mean.” 
Elise came to a stop outside a large mahogany door. “Jean-Pierre?” Something wasn’t right. She could sense evil near her. “Jean-Pierre!” 
Strong hands grabbed hold of her shoulders and she screamed out. “Shh, it is I, ma amour.” Liquid pooled between her legs as his cool touch ran over her. She’d never desired a man this way before. Her heart was too weak to afford her the pleasures of sex, but now, in her dream, she could live freely. “You desire me, do you not?” 
“I do,” Elise said boldly. 
Jean-Pierre moved around and stood before her. No longer did he wear black from head to toe. No. Now, he wore dark pants that laced up the front and a white shirt that reminded her of something a pirate would wear. He looked a bit disheveled and it was sexy as hell. 
Aching to touch and be touched by him, she grabbed hold of his shoulders and pulled him down to her. He felt so real. Each swipe of his tongue sent shivers down her spine and only served to add to the dampness between her legs. Elise yanked at his shirt, needing to get her hands on his chest, and to feel his muscles beneath her fingertips. 
“You are so different now, Elise,” he whispered. 
“Different?” 
“I will dwell no more on our past so long as you promise that we have a future--together.” 
Jean-Pierre’s words sounded so sweet, so sincere that she wanted to shout out ‘yes’, but held back. Something warned her that once she said the word, she would be forever committed to this man, dream or not. In the shop, he’d seemed so peaceful, so beautiful, but here, in her dream, she sensed darkness in him. 
Jean-Pierre lifted her shirt slowly, and worked it over her head. “I have wanted to make love to you for so long. I have gone without, waiting for you, always waiting for you, Elise.” His cool mouth encircled her nipple before she had time to register what was going on. The feel of his tongue grazing over her erect nipple was too much. She cried out and pulled at the sides of his face. Something sharp nicked her breast. At first it was painful, but the pain was quickly replaced by pleasure. 
He suckled gently from her breast, as she tipped her head back further. Never before had she felt so sexy, erotic, so in control and lost all at the same time. “I need to feel you, Jean-Pierre.” 
He pulled back slowly, releasing her nipple, and allowing the cool air around them to hit her wet breast. “Oh, ma amour, I promise that you will feel every inch of me tomorrow night.” 
“Why tomorrow?” 
“Because tomorrow is All Hallows Eve, the night that I reclaim what is rightfully mine. Sleep now, ma amour, and we shall be together for all eternity soon enough.” 
  
Chapter Three
Elise woke with a start and looked around her bedroom. The dream had felt so real that for a moment she was sure that Jean-Pierre had been suckling from her breast. Glancing down, she saw that her silky pajama top was unbuttoned. She moved her fingers down slowly and pulled the material back, revealing her breast. Tiny drops of blood ran down it and when she saw the bite mark, her eyes widened. 
“How?” 
This didn’t make any sense. An erotic dream about a sexy man shouldn’t have left her bleeding. But the reality of it all stared back at her as a drop of blood fell to her leg. She should have screamed, kicked, anything that would have indicated that she was scared shitless, but she did none of them. A part of her wanted the dream to be real. She wanted to believe that a man like Jean-Pierre would vow to love her for all eternity, even though she had but a few months to live. 
She stood slowly and hoped that the dizziness she felt would pass. Tonight was the Halloween party to end all parties. Dubois Manor had fascinated her since birth and she wasn’t about to miss the chance to go inside it. She’d toss something together and call it a costume. There would be so many people there that no one would notice or care what she wore. 
Elise headed slowly into the bathroom and prayed for the strength she’d need to make it through one more night. 
* * * *
Jean-Pierre moved around his large home inspecting every small detail to assure that it would be perfect for Elise’s arrival. He’d commissioned the restoration of the manor one hundred years ago when he’d first felt the pull of the area. Some unknown force had guided him to the place where he would one day be reunited with his long lost love. 
It had been hard at first. The locals here in America were as suspicious of him as the ones in France had been. They noticed that he only came out at night and that he never seemed to age. He’d been forced to fake his own death more times than he cared to remember, and constantly reinvent himself as the son of Jean-Pierre Dubois. He wasn’t even sure what number he was, at least according to the locals anymore. Last count he was Jean-Pierre Dubois IV. 
He walked down the long hallway making sure that every candle was lit and that every room held the old world charm that he’d originally selected the site for. Elise had loved his home in France. Had her life not been cut so terribly short, they would have filled it with children and love. Now, two hundred and fifty years later, they could recreate the magic they’d once shared, here in America. 
He smiled to himself as he thought of her opening his present right about now. She’d had to leave the costume shop so early that she didn’t have time to select one, not that it mattered. He’d had one made for her from the moment he planned the party. It was beautiful and elegant, just as Elise was. Sure, the black spider dress he’d pulled out had been exotic, but it would never do for his love. It had served its purpose though, it had allowed him an in to speak with her. Everything would be perfect for him when he reclaimed his wife. He’d waited too long to let anything get in his way. 
  
Chapter Four
Elise smoothed the front of her gown down and adjusted her mask. She’d been shocked to find that boxes had arrived for her, and when she’d opened them she’d had to take a heart pill. The dress inside was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. Done all in soft shades of peach and cream, the silky creation hung to the floor and made her feel like a princess. She’d been reluctant to accept the gift until her grandmother had handed her a note from Jean-Pierre. 
He’d insisted that, if her health permitted, she join him at the All Hallows Eve party this evening. It mattered little to her that the entire town had been invited, the fact that Jean-Pierre had asked her to attend with him was special. She didn’t care if her heart did pick today to give out. She’d just leave instructions for her body to be dressed in the gown and dropped off at Dubois Manor. The paramedics would most likely protest, but she didn’t care. Death wouldn’t stop her from visiting the Manor. 
Elise made her way through the large iron gates of Dubois Manor. For years they’d remained locked, forcing her to admire the estate from a distance. She’d lost count of the number of times she’d pretended that her one true love resided there--waiting for her to join him. It was a romantic and foolish notion, but one she’d had for as long as she could remember. 
“Why, Elise Marie, is that you?” 
She turned and found Margaret standing with several other people from the town. Margaret was dressed as a nun. It suited her. She did like to preach. Elise gave her a polite nod and smiled at the two men dressed as monks behind her. “I like the theme you have going. I didn’t notice those costumes the other day. Holding all the neat ones back for yourselves?” 
“Oh, you know me and my sons. Always love a party.” 
“Funny, I didn’t think you’d come. Well, not after the way you blew up about Mr. Dubois and the way he went about planning this.” 
Margaret waved her hand, dismissing Elise’s claims. “Oh, nonsense. I was just tired. I love a good party as much as the next person.” She walked up to the door. “You be careful now, Elise. There are all kinds of strange creatures out tonight.” 
“Uhh, thanks, Margaret. I’ll be sure to be on the lookout for rogue trick-or-treaters.” 
“Oh, if it were only that innocent, child,” Margaret said as she and her guests closed the door. 
Elise shook off the weird vibe and looked up at the old manor one more time. It was so beautiful, with its stone exterior and stained glass windows. This night was like a fairy tale and she never once thought that her dreams could come true. Now, if only the man of her dreams would pop out and claim that he’d always been there waiting for her, her fantasy would be complete. 
Grow up, Elise. You’re too old for fairy tales and happily ever afters. 
A slight breeze blew past her as she stepped up to the front door. Several of her long ringlets came loose from her upswept style. They fell into her face and she went to lift her mask to adjust them when someone touched her shoulder. She jumped and grabbed her chest, fearing that the slightest thing could set her off tonight with as excited as she was. 
“Mademoiselle, I have come to escort you into your new home.” 
Her breath caught as she turned to find Jean-Pierre standing behind her. His black hair was tied back at the base of his neck and he wore a mask similar to her own. The deep navy jacket he wore looked so old, so regal that it demanded attention, and yet seemed to be at home on his tall, muscular frame. 
“Nice tights,” she said, glancing down at his legs. 
“Ahh, they are pants, ma dame, not tights.” His lips curved into a luscious smile that she wanted to lick off his face. “Do you not like them?” 
“I love you … err … I mean them. I love them and I love this costume. Thank you so much for it. Please let me know what I owe you. I called Margaret at the costume shop but she claimed that she didn’t know anything about it.” Her face had to be at least seven shades of red. She was so embarrassed by her Freudian slip that she wanted to run from him and never look back. Why had she blurted out that she loved him? What could have caused that? 
Because I do love him. The voice in her head that she normally listened to now seemed insane. She couldn’t love him. She hardly knew him. 
Jean-Pierre touched her lips lightly, thus ending her rambling thoughts. “Shh, do not chastise yourself for expressing your true feelings to me, ma sucré.” 
Ma sucré, my sweet? She knew that from somewhere. But where? Flashes of Jean-Pierre standing before her, dressed as he was now came to her mind. The love on his face was clear and directed at her. Elise watched as the images showed her erotic flashes of his hands all over, and his body wedged between her legs, as he moved his hips, sliding himself in and out of her. 
“Mari du seigneur, je t'aime,” she whispered, as she reached out to move Jean-Pierre’s mask from his face. 
His blue eyes widened and as he pulled her into his arms. “What did you just call me?” 
Elise shook her head, in an attempt to shake the images from her mind. “I don’t know … I just … the words fell out. I don’t know that they mean. I don’t speak French.” 
“You called me your Lord Husband and told me that you love me.” 
She tried to break free of his hold. She wanted to be anywhere but before him. Humiliated and confused, she hung her head and let unshed tears build in her eyes. “I should go.” 
Jean-Pierre grabbed hold of her arm and pulled her with him as he stormed around to the side of the Manor. “What? Where are we going?” 
“I am doing what I should have done the moment I saw you, I am taking you to my bed.” 
“Your bed?” she asked, puzzled. “But, Jean-Pierre, the person who’s throwing this party isn’t going to like us running around making ourselves comfortable in his home.” 
He laughed. “I have it on good authority that he wants me to make love to you.” 
“Make love to me?” She almost choked on the words. Her mouth was suddenly dry and her hands shook uncontrollably. It was a heck of a time for her nerves to get the better of her. She was being offered a chance to make love to a gorgeous man before her crappy ticker gave out and she died a virgin. Now wasn’t the time for cold sweats and mini-freak outs. No, now was a time to give in to her carnal desires and allow Jean-Pierre to show her pleasures she’d only dreamt of. 
“Am I correct in believing that is what husbands and wives do?” 
Elise’s ears perked up. “Husbands and wives … what? No, I don’t know why I said that before. I think that my medicine is going to my head. I should get home and,” she stumbled slightly and he caught her. “Oh, umm … what was I saying?” 
The feel of his hard body pressed against hers was too much. She had to have him, had to feel all of him. Rational thought left her and all she could do was run her hands under his navy jacket. The lace on his shirt was stiff, so she pulled it up, freeing his shirt from his pants in the process. 
Jean-Pierre moaned as Elise bit his lower lip. The passion she possessed was addictive. The feel of her lush body under his fingertips made his cock go hard. He needed to be buried in her and soon. 
Without thought, he scooped her up in his arms and pressed his mouth tightly to hers. While her mouth was occupied with his, he defied gravity, as all vampires could, and carried her to the upper level balcony. His vampiric senses told him that the party goers were enjoying themselves as he’d hoped they would. He wanted them occupied while he ravished his wife’s body. For two hundred and fifty years he’d waited for this moment, and nothing would stop him from taking her. Claiming her. Turning her. 
With his mind, he pushed the French doors behind them closed. Elise was still succumbing to his seduction and he couldn’t wait another moment. “Je veux faire l’amour avec toi.” 
“I want to make love to you too, mari.” 
Hearing her again refer to him as her husband made his heart beat faster. How he’d longed to hear that all these years. The demon within him tried to surface but he held it down. There would be no supernatural interruptions this evening, not if he could help it. 
Gently, he laid Elise down on the bed. She pulled her mask off slowly, and he did the same. The sight of her spread out before him almost made him ejaculate. He’d been celibate for so long that he wasn’t sure he could hold it a moment more. “I have to take you. I cannot wait and I fear that I cannot be gentle with you. It has been far too long for me, and you are so beautiful, so amazing that I do not believe I can be all that I can be.” 
Her gaze was heavy with desire and her lips were swollen from their passion. “This isn’t the army. You can be whatever you like.” Her statement baffled him. He was not as up on his pop culture references as he should be and his guess was that she’d made a joke. When she ran her fingers down and over her ample cleavage, he forgot everything else but her. “Then don’t be gentle. Take me now, Jean-Pierre. Take me and fuck me. I’ve dreamt of this, of you.” 
With that, he ripped her gown from her body, freeing her creamy globes of flesh and catching a pink nipple in his mouth. He already knew how sweet they tasted. He’d cheated and entered her dreams, needing to taste of her flesh, and her blood. She was the sweetest nectar he’d ever known. He’d never have enough of her--never. Elise was a welcome addiction--one that he’d forfeit his life to have just one more taste of. 
“Please,” she panted. What she begged for he was not sure, but he planned on giving her everything and so much more. 
Yanking fiercely on his shirt and jacket, he freed his upper body. Elise drew in a sharp breath and he was pleased to smell her desire for him. It was important that she want him too. He would never take her without her consent. Leaning forward, he ripped the tiny thong that covered her sex from her body. A neatly trimmed patch of dark curls greeted him. The pink bud that lay tucked between her legs beckoned him. He was powerless but to answer. Pushing her velvety folds apart with his long fingers, he lapped her pussy with his tongue before taking her clit into his mouth. In his opinion, heaven had been found between her legs. A paradise of cream and desire encompassed his senses and he never wanted to let it go. 
He could hear the beating of her blood as it rushed to her sex. Her engorged nub throbbed before him, tempting him to sink his fangs into her inner thigh and drink of her warm blood. Sex and blood was a mix that even he, a centuries old vampire, could not resist--especially when it was a heady mix that originated from a mate. That is what Elise was to him, his mate, his wife. 
Jean-Pierre rubbed his fingers over her clit and thrust his long tongue into her entrance. Elise’s tight sheath clamped down on him and as he drew his tongue out slowly, leaving his cock pounding with desire. If he wasn’t careful, he’d come in his pants. Rubbing harder, he pushed his tongue in again and made love to her with his mouth, savoring her taste and tiny counter thrusts. He ran his cream slicked fingers down her sex and found the tiny taboo rosette of her ass just waiting for him to pluck. Temptation got the better of him and he slid his juiced finger over it, watching as it clamped down in an effort to keep him out. Gliding his tongue down her body, he rimmed the edges of her rosette. 
Elise grabbed hold of the sides of his head and pulled him up a bit. He grinned into her wet pussy. She tasted so sweet, like berries and cream. The smell of her was intoxicating and he needed more. Sucking. Pulling. Rubbing. His chin was covered in her cream as she screamed out and wiggled beneath him. He held her in place as he drank down her sweet sex. 
“I need more. I want to feel you in me,” she cried out. 
Always one to oblige, Jean-Pierre moved up and over her. He supported his weight with one hand and freed his massive cock with the other. It seemed to know instantly where her wet, warm hole was. He pressed the head of his cock into her tight opening and saw the look of strain pass over her face. 
“Elise, do you wish me to stop?” 
“God, no! Not now. Not ever!” 
Jean-Pierre eased himself into her. Her body held tight and refused to allow him further access. Her bottom lip quivered and he knew that he was causing her pain. Unable to bear the look on her face, he bent his down and took her mouth with his. His cock mirrored his tongue as it inched its way in, only his tongue did not run into the same thin barrier that his cock did. 
Elise was a virgin? She’d waited for him too. 
The mere thought of her saving herself for him set him into an uncontrolled sexual frenzy. He slammed his cock into her, tearing through her maidenhood and claiming her body with his own. She screamed out beneath him and clawed at the backs of his arms. Elise’s channel eased somewhat, allowing him full access to her pussy, and he took advantage of it, thrusting deeper and faster into her. He rode her body with a fire and passion that could only come from a man who’d waited so very long to love again. The wait had been more than worth it. He didn’t even think it possible, but she was even more exquisite than she’d once been. 
To top perfection was quite a feat and he hoped that he could love her as she deserved to be loved. He would give her the moon if she but asked for it. 
“Je t'aime--I love you,” he whispered in her ear. 
Wrapping her legs around his waist, she bit at his neck lightly. “I love you, too.” 
The need to claim her was great. Each time his cock sunk into her silky depths he wanted to let his demon out and taste her sweet coopery blood running down his throat. The thought of fucking her while he fed made it even harder to skive off his orgasm. It would carry a couple hundreds years worth of seed and he wasn’t sure how long it would last. 
Elise’s pussy tightened around his cock and he gritted his teeth in an attempt to stop his fangs from lowering. He couldn’t. The clenching of her channel proved to be too much. As his shaft exploded, sending seed deep within her womb, his fangs descended. In a flash he was on her, striking the sensitive vein in her neck, drinking her down as his cock continued to spit come into her. His orgasm seemed to last forever. His bite was orgasmic, so Elise continued to clench down on his cock as it spit more and more come into her. The milking process only served to prolong his already insane orgasm. 
Over the centuries, he’d learned how to feed from a human without killing them. It was a well-crafted art that all vampires had to learn if they wanted a warm meal without a trail of corpses in their wake. Normal humans could fill his needs for days without showing wear. Elise wasn’t normal. She was sick and he’d forgotten about that. He sensed her heart stopping a fraction of a second before it did. 
“NON!” he cried out. 
Pulling back from her limp body, he cried out again when he saw the glassy look in her green eyes. It was then that he felt her life slipping away. He bit his wrist quickly, gashing it open, and allowing his vampire blood to flow freely. Pressing it to her mouth, he tried to will her to drink, but in her weakened state, she did not respond. Blood ran out of the corners of her mouth. Each drop signified her death. He put his wrist to her mouth again, silently praying that she’d drink it before his wound closed up. He’d have to feed again if he was to open another vein for her and she would be past the point of siring if he left her for that long a period. 
“Drink, Elise, drink of my blood. Accept my dark gift, join me, now and forever.” She didn’t respond. 
Fear gripped him and he put his mouth over hers. Using his tongue, he forced blood down her throat. She jerked beneath him, no doubt from the change occurring. It was then that he realized his cock was still buried in her body. He began to pull out of her, but stopped when her tongue caressed his back. The feel of her body swaying gently under his was too much. Seed shot out of his shaft hard and faster than he wanted. 
Elise raked her nails down his back and screamed out in French, “Plus fort!” 
Giving into her wish for it to be harder, he slammed his body down onto hers. Her green eyes rolled into the back of her head as she panted beneath him. A knock of the bedroom door startled him, but he didn’t move to answer it. Whoever it was could wait. Elise’s change would be nearing completion and he’d not leave her to go through it alone. 
“Open this door, demon!” a woman shouted. 
Visions of the townsfolk rebelling against him two hundred and fifty years ago flooded back to him, and once again he saw his beloved Elise dead before his eyes. For a moment, he felt as helpless now as he had then. It was only when he realized that he could save her this time that he snapped out of his funk. 
“NO!” He pulled off her and moved towards the door, just in time to see it burst open. 
Margaret, the costume shop owner stood there dressed as a nun with a large wooden cross in her hand. “I have the faith to back this up, demon. Don’t you worry none ‘bout that. We’ll see you turn to dust before we let you take Elise from us. Go, go back to the hell hole from which you spawned, demon!” 
Jean-Pierre shielded his eyes from the white light that began to emanate from the holy object. He hissed as Margaret moved closer to him. Her gaze went to the bed and she cried out, “Elise! Oh Lord have mercy, what has he done to you?” 
“I saved her life, you old fool.” He batted at her, but she held tight to her protection. As long as the cross still glowed, he was powerless to stop her. His body weakened quickly and it took all his might just to remain standing. Margaret walked to the bed and put the cross near Elise. When Elise didn’t respond she turned her narrow gaze back to Jean-Pierre. 
“You killed her. You didn’t turn her. You killed her. You’re a murdering demon and you’re going back to hell. Didn’t they warn you? Didn’t they tell you that there’d be a price?” 
Jean-Pierre tried to make sense of Margaret’s words. Didn’t who tell him what? The more it thought about it, the more he remembered the hag sisters who’d assured him that he would indeed see Elise Marie again. They warned him not to tempt fate, not to fight what had been predetermined, but still he did. Now, they were at the mercy of a religious madwoman who somehow knew about the warnings a set of equally insane sisters gave him over two hundred years ago. 
“You should have listened to them. I did, right before I sent them to hell, too!” Margaret shouted. 
The idea of Margaret, a seemingly mild-mannered shop owner being able to kill three hag sisters actually alarmed him. If she could kill three seers then she might very well be able to kill a newly formed vampire--Elise. He wasn’t concerned about himself. It would take quite a bit more than Margaret to destroy him. Sure, she could inflict pain on him, but killing him was an entirely different matter altogether. 
“Come on in, boys, and get her body out of here. We need to cleanse her with holy water before we cut her heart out and bury her,” Margaret yelled. 
Two large men burst through the door, wearing robes, and carrying ropes and burlap bags. They looked a good deal like Margaret so he assumed they were relations. One of the men looked down at Elise’s body and Jean-Pierre could smell the man’s arousal as he stared at her naked, blood-stained body. The need to tear the man’s head from his shoulders was great--too great for the demon within him to resist. 
The French doors to his bedroom blew open, and the cold October wind blew into the room. All around him, candles flickered and screams sounded. The screams hadn’t come from anyone in the room, but rather some unseen force. Margaret’s little helpers cowered in the corner as shadows appeared out of nowhere, trying to grab them--taunting them. 
The sound of soft songs rode over the screams and Jean-Pierre knew that the supernatural community had gathered their strength to aid him on this night--All Hallows Eve. The power of the paranormal was ten fold and with the help of his brethren he would not lose Elise to crazed townspeople again. No. It was time that an end came to those who would persecute others simply for being different. 
The light from the cross faded and the woman behind was revealed to him. In one moment, he saw all the sins of her past. All the murders she’d committed over the years, claiming to be working for God. She’d murdered women, children, anyone who she deemed evil. All the lost souls, but his and the three seers, had been ordinary people that her twisted mind had perceived as evil. 
Margaret looked to the men she’d come with for help, but Jean-Pierre knew that she’d find none there. The men, if not dead yet, would be locked in insanity, prisoners of their own minds. The spirits of their victims now had their vengeance. “No! I will not be harmed by you, devil!” 
Jean-Pierre tipped his head back and laughed wickedly as the wind around him brought about the sound of thunder. “I am not the devil, old woman. I am much worse.” He leapt at her and flung her back against the wall. A sharp pain in his gut made him glance down. It was then that he saw she’d used the wooden cross as a stake. White-hot pain lanced through his body as he slid to the floor. 
Margaret’s eyes gleamed. “I told you he’d protect me. I told you….” 
As Jean-Pierre gave into the darkness, he saw a blur that looked slightly like Elise standing before him. “Femme de la dame, Je t'aime.”

Chapter Five
Domme, France--near Dordogne Valley
Jean-Pierre glanced over at Elise and wondered when, if ever, she’d speak to him again. They’d been in France for a month now, and she’d barely spoken to him. He’d thought that she’d accepted what she was when he’d woken to find that she’d killed Margaret, but she hadn’t. Elise seemed to hate her very existence now and she blamed him for it. 
The blank look on her face as she stared out at the black river spoke volumes. She’d been prepared to die. She’d accepted that her heart would not last much longer and she’d been ready for the inevitable. He’d changed all that without first speaking to her about it, and he would regret that for all eternity. 
“I did it because I love you,” he said, hoping that this time she would answer him. 
Elise dropped her head against the window and moonlight spilled over her long dark hair. She was a vixen, a raven of the night, and she had no idea what kind of control she had over him. He would do anything for her. Hell, he had waited hundreds of years for her to return and would wait a hundred more for her to be ready to accept him once more. After all, they had an infinite amount of time. 
“Jean-Pierre,” she whispered. 
At first, he thought that his mind was playing tricks on him, but when she turned and looked directly at him he realized that this was no trick. “Yes.” 
“I’m pregnant.” 
His breath caught in his throat. Paralyzed by both shock and joy, he didn’t move. He’d never intended to fully turn her, at least not until they were able to have children, but it had happened anyway. His original plan had been to shift her enough that her weak heart would heal, but she would not be a full vampire. He’d only ever heard of partial vampires being able to have a child. This was new, exciting, and he wanted to run and hold her in his arms. The sad, faraway look on her pale face kept him at bay. 
“I am pleased. Are you not?” 
A tear ran down her cheek and he felt as though his heart would shatter. “Are we evil? I mean … I know that you give me blood from a cup, but where do you get it from? Do you kill people for it?” 
“Not innocent people, no.” 
Her eyes widened. “But you still murder people to feed me.” 
“Vampires kill only the ones who deserve to die--murders, rapists, child molesters … that is all. We do not take blood from the innocent. It goes against our very code. It is common for us to purchase supplies of blood from blood banks now as well. It is easy to pay a doctor to claim that you have a certain blood disorder that requires infusions.” He’d been paying for blood shipments for over twenty years. The advent of modern blood banks had been the equivalent of fast food restaurants to his kind. 
“Will our child be evil?” 
“We are not evil. Not in the way you think of the word. Tell me how a creature that rids the world of evildoers is evil himself. Would he not be considered a hero?” 
She shrugged. “I guess, but then can’t we go into churches or be around holy objects.” 
“Ahh, I do not know the answer to these questions, but I can tell you that we are not evil and that I cannot see how a God that hates us would allow us to conceive a child.” 
“My heart would have never allowed me to carry a child. At least, not before you made it strong.” Elise stepped away from the window and took a tentative step towards him. He didn’t move, afraid that she’d shrink away if he dared to touch her. As she approached, he couldn’t keep his eyes off her slender waist. Their child grew within her. Against all odds, they’d managed to create a life. 
She reached out and laid her hand on his shoulders. He drew in a sharp breath and waited to see what Elise would do next. Cupping his face in her hands, she leaned down to him. “I remember everything.” 
He was a bit confused by her statement. “You remember me siring you? I swear to you that I did it only to save your life.” 
She touched his lip. “Shhh, not that. Well, I do remember that, but that’s not all I remember. I remember us, here in France long ago. I remember our wedding, and how gentle you were with me when we made love that night. And,” she looked away from him. “I can remember what happened after you’d gone out to feed, that night--the night I died.” 
Jean-Pierre tried to stand. He needed to move, to do anything other than sit there. The thought of Elise reliving those last few horrifying moments threatened to destroy him. Elise pushed him down in the wingback chair and stared down at him. 
“Jean-Pierre, it’s okay. I’m not afraid. I wasn’t afraid then either. They came for you … the villagers came with torches and swords. They claimed that I’d married a demon, a monster that sucked the lives from their children and killed indiscriminately.” She turned his face to meet hers and positioned her body on his lap, just so. “They thought that I didn’t know what I’d married. They were wrong. I knew that you were a vampire from the moment I met you. I can’t explain how, I just knew, and I refused to leave with them. They offered me the chance to live if I left with them, but I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t leave you. I loved you--I still love you, Jean-Pierre.” 
“You love me even though I turned you into … into what I am.” 
She pressed her soft lips to his and silenced any of his questions. He could feel her love for him radiating from her. The time she’d spent in silence had apparently allowed her time to reflect on who and what she now was. There was still one other matter he needed to deal with. “Elise Marie.” 
“Mmm, yes?” 
“I am the Dubois who owns the manor in your hometown.” 
“You own it?” She tipped her head back and laughed. He didn’t understand what was so funny. “Oh, Jean-Pierre, that house called to me, and I dreamed that my one true love resided in it--just waiting until the time was right to whisk me away for all eternity.” 
He smiled as he played her fantasy through his mind. The irony of it all was not lost on him. He had indeed been waiting in the manor for her, with every intention of whisking her away for all eternity. Kissing her lips softly, he brushed her long hair over her shoulders. “One day, when it is safe again, we shall return to the manor to live.” 
“That would be nice. I kind of miss my grandmother.” 
“I figured as much, that is why I sent for her. She will be arriving by plane sometime next week.” The look on Elise’s face told him that she was afraid of what her grandmother would think of what she was now. “Do not worry, ma amour, she knew what I was long ago. She paid me a visit when she was young, and told me that she had a premonition that one day I would find my true love and that she would have in hand in it all. She passed her gifts on to your mother. That is how she heard you call to her from the spirit realm to tell your name.” 
She tossed her arms around his neck and covered him with kisses. Each kiss was more tender than the last. This was how he’d envisioned their life together. The addition of the baby would bring them even more joy. “Femme de la dame, Je t'aime.”
“And I love you too, husband.” Elise wiggled her nose. “I’d prefer to stop using the title of Lord before it though. It is about time you came around to the present day.” Pushing her hand between them, she grabbed hold of his cock through his pants and laughed. “I see that you’re ready. Are you always like this?” 
“Only around you, only around you.” 
“Good, keep it that way. I’m dead, pregnant, and craving blood. You really don’t want to see what I look like when I’m jealous too.” She rubbed her hand over his erection and purred softly. The sound nearly drove him out of his mind. “See, honey, I can be gentle too, and I’d like to be the one calling the shots this time. I’ve waited a month to feel you in me again and I’m horny as hell. Yikes, you really did create a monster.” 
Jean-Pierre laughed from the gut as he pulled his wife around to face him. “I need to be in you, now. I cannot wait another moment. Besides, I need to spend as much time as I can with you before the baby comes. I will have to learn to share you then.” 
“Then by all means, my love, take me to bed and fuck me until you can’t fuck anymore.” 
“Beware, young one. I have the stamina of a vampire.” 
She touched the tip of his nose and smiled. “As do I, my love, as do I.” 

Epilogue
“Elise?” 
Jean-Pierre laughed as he heard his granddaughter entering the manor. She had a bad habit of knocking and assuming that she needed to announce her presence. “You grandmother is downstairs painting. She’ll sense your presence soon enough. Come, Adeline, tell me how life at the university is treating you.” 
He watched as Adeline entered his study. Her long jet black hair was twisted into a bun and she wore her signature faded jeans and sweatshirt. She smiled when she saw him and her blue eyes twinkled. “Ah, you are beautiful, young one.” 
She rolled her eyes. “Stop it, Jean-Pierre. I hate it when you two walk around and call yourselves grandma and grandpa. You don’t look a day over thirty and Elise looks even younger than that. Only mom looks her age.” 
Jean-Pierre grew quiet at the mention of his daughter, Marie. “She decided that she did not want to be immortal. It is her life to do with as she pleases.” 
“Yeah, umm … try to sound like you mean it. I know if you had your way you’d have turned her, but mom is as stubborn as you.” 
“Thanks, I think,” Jean-Pierre said. “You do know that now that you are a young woman, you can choose our way and live forever.” 
She smiled at him and it warmed his heart. “I know. Mom tells me all the time to do what I want, but I’d like a little bit more time to decide. Is that okay?” 
“Oui,” Jean-Pierre said, proud of how strong his granddaughter seemed to be. 
“Gee, now that you bring French into the mix, I’ve got a favor to ask of you.” 
“Adeline, you have but to ask and it is yours.” 
“Can I borrow your guys’ house in France, just for a few months? I’ve decided to spend my last semester abroad and I just thought….” 
Jean-Pierre put his hand up and nodded. “What we have is yours, young one. Of course you can.” He smiled, as he thought about how destiny was unfolding again before his eyes. Elise had dreamed that Adeline would go to France and that she too would find her mate--and in the process find immortality. If his granddaughter had the opportunity to have even an ounce of the happiness he’d had with Elise then he would do anything to help her. 
THE END