Chapter One: A Normal Night In London

The sun was just beginning to set as Dominick arose from his bed role and looked out the window. The sight that was normally comforting to him-- The city of London-- held no leverage over his restless mind tonight. Dominick had black hair in long, tousled, mouse-like locks that reached a stern looking chin.

His eyes were a deep, earthly color that radiated an aura of strength and determination. The skin on his muscular body was pale, as though he had not seen true light in many days. Dominick's body was strong looking, and he was always dressed entirely in black. In vain he had now hunted for his foe, Wolfe, before the vampire had fled.

Even now, he hid in the shadow of Big Ben, waiting for an unsuspecting victim to cross his path. Dominick knew that vampires could indeed walk in sunlight, the younger they were the longer they lasted in the war with the light. As he walked down the stairs with a man's grace and the last sunbeams washed over his face, Dominick reflected. He did not know where Wolfe could have gone this time.

He doubted anyone did, for that matter... The vampire lord was very secretive, praying on women and children. He reached his destination without realizing that was where he had been going. It was his friend Arrine's house, a small, charming brick cottage that smelled of kindness.

"Dominick! Not that I mind how you look, dear, but... Do you ever shave?" Arrine had long, clean dark hair that was shoulder length. Her skin was a light shade of white, and even the longest time spent in the sun did nothing to darken its purity. Her eyes were blue, and they always twinkled with a silent laugh. Today Arrine was dressed in a dark red that renewed (to Dominick at least) her pallid sense of beauty.

"Now there are people about," Dominick reminded her vaguely, "For now, I am--"

"The Liberator. Yes, yes, I know... I do have a brain larger then a walnut, shockingly." She replied, almost sullenly.

"I know how you tire of my occupation, Arrine. As soon as I find this... this monster, and kill it, I will retire. I cannot allow it to live. This beast, it is far too dangerous to be left alive."

"He is not alive," She said, moving closer to him, "He is not in love, is he?"

"No, although he does use women to feed and entertain himself." Arrine's wide eyes nearly made him laugh, but he only allowed himself a second, broader grin. But, alas, it was short-lived.

"So," He finished, the grin sliding from his face slowly as he beheld her solemn expression, "be careful."

"Pft, you always tell me that. Can you not come up with something more original?" Dominick's ever-present grin returned so quickly, for a moment Arrine doubted whether it had ever left his face.

"Oh, I will eventually," he teased, "It is only... my walnut sized brain..." The ring of Big Ben rang down the street, chiming the late hour, and Arrine took Dominick's pale hand with an easy smile.

"Come inside," She begged, "I made chicken for your sup. You must be hungry." Neither of them noticed the Vampire that had been watching intently as Arrine lead Dominick inside for a quick dinner. As they walked into the charmingly-quaint courtyard, the Vampire sprinted off into the night. This thing had onyx-colored orbs as eyes, and his name was Nightshade. Covering a great distance in a short amount of time, he soon arrived at a back alley. He had short red hair, and dark skin, he wore a simple black robe.

Nightshade bowed swiftly to the persona who towered above him,

before saying, "Dominick went home." His voice was deliciously low-pitched.

"Good," Wolfe said, his long hands drumming against a brick wall that had been cooled by the faint moonlight, "Good, our plan will yet have hope. I for one am glad our hunter decided to be punctual."

***

As the two friends ate in the back garden, Dominick's heart grew uneasy at the awkward silence. "So, how is your father doing? I have not seen him since I visited you." Dominick's conversational inquiry did not yield the results he had expected. Arrine's smile, which was nearly as stubborn as Dominick's slid from her face.

"He... he.." Her eyes filled with tears before the Liberator could verify his mistake.

"Oh, Arrine," He said, "I am so sorry."

"So am I." She said, her tone changing, suddenly warmer then it ever had been before.

"You should not have to worry about money, though," Dominick said, "Did your father not leave you a fairly large estate?"

"Yes," Arrine said, "Although that wealth does little to ease his passing."

"You should not have to worry about anything at all," Dominick said, "Particularly at your age. Is there no one to watch over you?" His voice was a heroic-sounding tone that hardly fit the Dominick Arrine knew. She grimaced and rolled her eyes.

"I do not need to be looked after, Dominick," She said in the normal tone, with a suggestion of coolness.

"You make it sound so easy!" He laughed.

"It is easy!" She replied, crossing her arms in mock anger. Dominick grinned yet again, shaking his head. Arrine's eyes had fallen on Dominick's golden blade. Her face turned serious.

"When are you leaving again?" She whispered, her gaze flickering to Dominick's smiling face. The faint light of the candles in the room illuminated his young, tired face, even to the lines at the edge of his mouth.

"Tomorrow, I think." He responded, "Already, I have dwelt here too long."

After looking at her crestfallen face, he added, "Not that I regret that."

"You do not have to leave, Dominick," She implored him, walking over to sit nearer to him. "Even the Liberator can take a vacation."

"I cannot Arrine," He said firmly.

"I love you, Dominick." She said, "And I cannot stand it anymore! I cannot stand wondering if you are alive, if someone is.. is... UGH!" She stormed haughtily out of garden, leaving Dominick all alone once more. In reply, he picked up a stick and poked moodily at the fire.

"Women."

***

Arrine locked the door behind her, hastily sitting down in a comfortable chair near the dying fire.

"A thrilling performance," a cruelly handsome voice said from behind her. It had been unexpected, and she jumped.

"I did what you asked of me, you have no reason to stay. I demand you to leave, our bargain is complete." She ran her fingers through her dark hair, but her voice was normal.

"Oh, Arrine," He said, smiling a smile full of vampiric fangs, ones that looked like polished ivory in the light of the fire, "But I have no intention of going." Wolfe had risen from the chair behind her. He had long, blonde hair that he had swept back into a breath-taking, beautiful ponytail. His pale skin glittered faintly, as diamonds would have, in the flickering flames. His eyes were a deep, handsome maroon.

"Why?" She asked, hardly grasping reality while she stared at him.

"I'm hungry, you see."

"I am profoundly sorry, but I have already eaten this night," Arrine said, in what she hoped was a strong voice, "Please come back tomorrow."

"I cannot. I am hungry now, and even if you have eaten, I have not yet." Wolfe said of all this in a miraculously pleasant voice. "You see, I fear I have grown rather..." He paused, as though searching for the right word, "Ravenous." Arrine did not understand what he was hinting at. It was late, and her vision was blurred, and she was unsteady on her feet.

"I am truly sorry, but I have nothing for you this night," She said, in a voice so quiet she barely heard herself speak. She stared at the window; the moonlight was streaming inside as she slowly pulled open the curtains. "I am afraid you must go, it is unappreciated that you remain here at such an hour." She turned back from the window to see Wolfe, dangerously close to her.

"Sir," She began, but he raised his hands in mock defeat. She stared at his dark eyes, which seemed black in the moonlight.

"Would you like me to make you something to eat, Wolfe?" She asked him finally, desperation creeping into her voice. She was beginning to understand that Wolfe was taking this too far. She needed to get rid of him, and if cooking was the only way to do so, she would. He moved closer in response, his grin grew wider yet. So wide, it was unnatural, a face that was more bat then man.

 

The first thing Arrine noticed as he bit her was how very cold his lips were.

Reviews

[Kurt Rellians]

An effective start to your novel. The tension is well built, and the characters well drawn.