Chapter 1

Chapter 1

 

“You look Beautiful.” Lindsey, Jaclyn’s cousin, remarked as she fanned out Jaclyn’s brown hair around her shoulders. Jaclyn looked into the mirror and all she could do was stare. The dress was tight around her waist accentuating every curve, the low cut front did a nice job show off her breasts although she had plenty to spare, and the red silk with black lace overlay dropped down to the floor covering the five inch stiletto heels. Jaclyn’s hair was naturally wavy so it was okay just to let it fall down to her shoulder blades. Her lips were painted a deep red and her eyes defined with mascara and coal black liquid eyeliner. The choker on her neck was a black onyx which matched the earrings. This was the traditional outfit every Starling wore when invited to the Hallows Eve Ball.

To be invited was of the highest honor anyone could bestow. Multimillion tycoons fought scrapped and smooched their way just to get in. And yet somehow when an average Joe Starling turned twenty one they were sent a ticket. No smooching, no connections, it just appeared. That’s how they took her sister. Three years ago, when Jaclyn’s sister turned of age, an invitation was sent. It was blood red with a wax seal of the letter P. She dressed similar to Jaclyn except more…well like a s**t. Jaclyn had watched her leave the house and walked into the limo; chin high and chest filled with pride. Deep down Jaclyn knew she’d never see her sister again. She knew Tanya would become their….their toy. And she was right. She had waited into the morning for her with no avail. Both she and Lindsey knew they had chosen her.

A month later, they threw all her things into the burn pile and set fire to them. Even if she came back she wouldn’t be the Tanya they knew. She’d be something sinister, something dark and evil. Jaclyn could remember Lindsey laying her arm around Jaclyn’s shoulder her lips firmly pressed as they watched everything turn to ash.

“She’s gone.” she remembered her saying, “She no longer exists. It’s better just to let her go and not to think about it.”

But Jaclyn did. Every year she’d sit at her window on Halloween and remember it was another year closer till the invitation would come. She’d cry her tears soaking her shirt. She’d cry for her sister who couldn’t come back. She’d cry for her parents and Lindsey. But she’d also cry because Jaclyn knew that if the invitation did come there was only one thing she could do. She refused to be there toy, there little plaything. She wouldn’t become her sister, who would be remembered walking out into the darkness and never coming back. No Jaclyn would die before that would happen.

“Now let’s get your mask.” Lindsey told her as she went over to Jaclyn’s dresser and pulled out a black mask that would cover Jaclyn’s eyes and nose. It was a perfect fit to her face so there was no need for strings to hold it in place. The base was black but the designs were blood red. They swirled around it elegantly bringing her eyes out. Now it was official. She was no longer Jaclyn Starling. She was just another candidate for their lineup. Just another girl of who could be their toy.

“You’re perfect.” Lindsey exclaimed pleasantly.

Jaclyn swallowed the emotions that bubbled inside her. She wouldn’t cry; she was too numb for that. All she could do was look at Lindsey in a solemn silence. Lindsey’s eyes filled with tears as she wrapped Jaclyn in a hug. Jaclyn somehow knew that both of them knew it would be the last time they’d see each other. But only she knew exactly why.

“Don’t forget about me, okay?” Lindsey whispered, “You were the best roommate I ever had.”

Jaclyn smiled and bit her lip to hold back the tears, “I could never, Linz. You’re the most energetic person I know.”

That made Lindsey lips curve into a smile, a genuine smile, the one that wrinkles your eyes and nose. The last one Jaclyn would probably ever see. It was the last bit of happiness she would ever know. Lindsey pulled away and wiped her eyes.

“No sense of cry over spilled milk.” She murmured.

Jaclyn shook her head and chuckled, “I suppose not.”

“Let’s, ah, wait down stairs.” Lindsey suggested.

“That’s fine.” She muttered as she thought solemnly, I couldn’t agree more.

They clamored down the stairs and instead of fallowing Lindsey into the kitchen Jaclyn went into the study. It had green walls with book shelves everywhere. Suit of armor rested in corners and metal shield hung on the walls. The oak desk sat in front of the fireplace close to the bay window. In the top left drawer was her cousin’s .45 mm hand gun. She took it out, the metal cool against the palm of her hand. She checked for bullets and there were none. After she loaded it Jaclyn took the safety off and pressed it against her temple.

Jaclyn closed her eyes. Her heart was beating in her chest; it almost scared Jaclyn that she was so calm. Images of her sister played through her mind. Memories of them playing together, laughing, loving, and crying flickered through her head. Even those of her parents came to mind. The day they found them dead, lying in pools of their own blood. Sadness crushed her chest. Jaclyn didn’t want to become them. She didn’t want to be a victim of their murders cruelty.  A tear fell from her eye and slide down her cheek. She couldn’t do it. Jaclyn opened her eyes and started to set the gun down.

“Jaclyn!” Lindsey’s frighten voice startled her. Jaclyn’s finger jumped pulling the trigger. She looked at Lindsey and gasped. Jaclyn slide down to the floor, her chest burning. She couldn’t speak as Lindsey rushed to her side.

“Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God,” she muttered as she looked at Jaclyn’s chest with horrified eyes. Jaclyn looked down, blood poured from the wound. Tears weld up in her eyes, she was going to die.

“Jaclyn you got to listen to me,” Lindsey ordered, “stay with me. You got to stay with me girl.”

Jaclyn began to smile then as she laid her head back. Lindsey did it. She helped Jaclyn do something she didn’t have the guts to do herself. She was going to die.

Lindsey looked around franticly, “Help! Someone, anyone HELP!”

Her frantic cries filled Jaclyn’s ears as she lay back waiting from her death to come. The last thought that ran through her mind was I’m going home.

  

 

 The moon was just barely over the horizon, its yellow tinged shining brightly. Red tainted its edges like blood on skin. It was his favorite part of the night, the beginning. It had the most color, the most beauty. But Polarus dare not tell anyone about it but himself. He learned early one that emotion had no place in this world. Emotion held a dangerous weakness, one that could cost him his life. So there he sat, alone, by the bay window wearing nothing but his silk pajama bottoms.

He reached down and picked up his breakfast. It was the first sip of the night, the first taste blood on all Hallows Eve. Polarus growled as the sweet taste of AB positive slid down his throat.

Tonight was going to be a fine night. He could feel it. Something important was going to happen, he just didn’t know what yet.

The door clicked open on the other side of the room. Polarus sighed, it wasn’t even ten o’clock and he was already needed. He watched as the door opened to reveal his assistant Banfeild and his…date, although it was hardly the word to use to describe her. The young woman was recruited last year from the Hallows Eve Ball. She was small and petite, with curly blond hair that fell to her shoulders. She wore a skin tight black cocktail dress that dipped low in the front. It was apparent that she wore nothing underneath less it showed. Her green eyes were dull and half hooded. There was multiple bite marks on her wrists and neck turning her skin around them from pale to a dark purple. No date was the wrong word, a better one would be toy.

“You better cover her wounds or keep her out of sight.” Polarus warned, “I don’t want the guests startled.”

Banfeild chuckled as he pulled the girl squared against his hips and smelt of her neck. His eyes turned a primal black showing his hunger and desire.

“You mean you want the cattle to remain ignorant.”

Polarus watched the blood in the bottle slosh around as he rotated his wrist. Why did the word sit so wrong with him? Cattle, that’s what they were. Humans were nothing but food for them. They were refreshments that were instantly heated. Could he care? Polarus physically laughed, oh how sweet. Him, Polarus Calpis, caring for the wellbeing of those he relished to hunt. Those he killed just because he had the urge to. Could he have a heart?

No I think not, he thought to himself.

“Sir,” Banfeild asked confused at the chuckle that escaped his lips.

Polarus looked up at his assistant and smiled, “Yes, we must keep the cattle ignorant. Don’t want our food running about in terror, then where would we be?”

His assistant chuckled as he bit the young woman. She let out a cry of pain as Banfeild took his fill of her. A vampire had the choice when they bit a human to let them feel pleasure or have them feel the pain of their fangs sinking into their flesh. Banfeild, he knew all too well, liked causing pain. In his sick twisted world pain aroused him.

After a few moments Banfeild released her and tossed her on the sofa like a rag doll. The woman’s breathing was shallow, her chest barely rising. She’d live, but for her sake it was a tragedy. Most girls like her would be covered in bruises in a matter of weeks. Soon they’d get weak and die. This was why they needed the ball; it replenished their stock, so to speak. Unconcerned, Polarus finished his bottle and sat it back on the floor.

“Are you going to get ready or are you not going again?” Banfeild asked bitterly as he eyed the bottle. Bottle fed was another choice a vampire had if they couldn’t stomach the killing, but it was one that was extremely hated. But Polarus though it better than hearing the moans or shrieks of women every time you bit them. No his life was complicated enough without the addition of a woman. Plus Polarus liked solitude; he liked it better than fresh blood. That’s why he never went to the Hallows Eve Ball. The ball was an event where vampires of a coven could pick new toys and mingle freely. Since using blood in a bottle he had no us for it.

Polarus shrugged, “I haven’t thought about it.”

Banfeild snorted as he lounged gracefully against the arm of the sofa, “You haven’t taken a woman in centuries. Some of the coven thinks you’ve switched teams.”

Polarus rolled his eyes, “Most of the coven is bi anyway, and I personally don’t care. What’s the point in having a toy if they fall on the couch limp afterwards?

Banfeild lips curled in disgust, “You’ve forgotten the thrill of the game as you entice them. The feel of the blood as it warms you’re body. The pulse of their heart flutters like a bird in their chest. Who cares about afterwards when you’ve had your fill?”

Polarus eyed Banfeild in his freshly pressed tux. His coal black hair greased to perfection as his icy blue eyes gleamed with revulsion. He was the embodiment of a young vampire new to the thrill of the kill. Polarus remembered such times and what wonder and power they held for him. But that was over six thousand years ago, give or take fifteen minutes. Over the years a person can get used to the thrill; it dulls, as if you get numb to the experience. After a while all one can do is crave more. Some vampires went on killing sprees to get the feeling back and others fell into a deep depression turning to physical harm on themselves. But for him, more was just solidarity, to break off from the world. Something his coven couldn’t fathom.

Banfeild broke the gaze and muttered with bitter malice, “They think you’re becoming weak. They think you have lost your touch and refuse to kill. That you’ve become afraid, soft even.”

“And do you agree?”

Before Banfeild could answer someone burst open the door to Polarus’s room. Banfeild jumped as if someone had stabbed him with a stake. Polarus, however, looked over unconcerned at the intruder. It was Bruttino one of the humans that worked for them as a limo driver. Polarus’s heart skipped a beat as he saw what Bruttino carried in arms. He held a young woman in a ball gown that swallowed her in mass of fabric.

Then it hit him like a creeping high, the sweet rich sent. It glided down her pale skin and dripped steadily onto the floor. Polarus hadn’t seen fresh blood in ages; it made his mouth water on sight. He couldn’t remember the last time he had the urge to bit into someone before.

“Polarus she’s dying.” Bruttino said his voice heavy with a Spanish accent that completely butchered his name. Polarus could hear it; the young woman’s heart was beating slower by the second.

“Excuse me, let me through!” A female barked from behind him. Polarus eyebrows rose as a petite red head squeezed her way between the door and Bruttino. Her clothes where soaked in blood and her eyes red and swollen from shed tears.

“Do not senora me Brutty!” she snapped, “My cousin’s dying; now one of you beasties fix her.”

Banfeild looked shell shocked as he gapped at the scene. A human ordering the undead to help her, how cute. Polarus went over to the dying woman and took her from the Spaniard’s arms. He carried her over to his bed, laying her down on the fed fur blanket. He leaned close hovering over the woman’s throat. The sweet smell of AB positive wafted up to his nose. His mouth began to water as his fangs leaped out. Surely one taste wouldn’t hurt. No it would, it would kill her. Then again why did he care? She was just another human.

“Why should I?” Polarus asked looking up at the red haired woman. The woman put her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes which were blurry with tears.

“Because she’s a Starling and you know as well as I do that if she dies then s**t hits the fan.” The woman reminded him acidly although her voice was cracking.

S**t, he cursed silently as he looked down at the dying woman. The Starlings were a special type of human, one that was protected at all costs by the Ordained. It was well known by every vampire that no one was to bite them or kill them.  Polarus sighed; this was something he was prepared to deal with.

“Polarus?” Bruttino asked behind him.

“You’ll have to get word to the Ordained.” Banfeild whispered hoarsely.

Polarus nodded, “Bruttino go find Liza.”

“You will save her?” The red head asked.

I have to, he thought bitterly.

“We’ll see.” He muttered as he looked at the dying woman. She was broad in the shoulders and had subtle curves all the way down. Her dress was red with black lace overlay. The corset top was threaded with red silk and accentuated her breast although they needed no help. The slit of the dress came to mid-thigh showing plump leg. Polarus’s eyes traveled to the hallow of her throat were an onyx chocker laid. He studied her face. She had full lips that any man would fight to taste. They were parted slightly so she could breathe shallowly. Her cheek bones were strong and defined. They were framed by her wavy brown hair. He could tell nothing else because of the mask that clung to her face.

“Where are they?” The cousin asked, “At this rate she’ll be dead when they get back.”

Polarus listened. The woman’s heart beat was weak and fading. The redhead was right the woman wasn’t going to last much longer. What if she died here under the roof of his house? A Starling dies underneath his eye, that wouldn’t be good for his health. The heart beat began to slower as the woman began to choke on her own breath.

No, no, no, no do not die. He hissed ferociously in his mind.

“Oh my god she’s dying!” the read head screeched, “Do something, you’re a vampire, do something!”

Polarus paused was he really considering turning her? Was he going to condemn her to darkness just so he may continue existing? The answer was simple, yes he was. He leaned down to her neck. His fangs gleamed in the room’s light. Before he could bit he was torn back from her.

“What are you doing?!” the red head demanded.

“I’m saving her life. Isn’t that what you wanted?” he growled. The woman hesitated, her eye flickering to her cousin and back at him.

“Just…just save her.”

Polarurs grunted as he leaned down and pierced the flesh of her neck. The blood rushed down his throat warming him. Her taste was heaven, being sweet rich with a tangy twist. He pulled her into his lap to get a better angle. The taste of her sent his senses swarming in his head like a high. He drank her till she fell into a blood coma. It was a state a where a vampire could choose to let them die or turn them. He bit his wrist and pressed it to her lips letting his blood drip into her mouth.

“What now?” the red head whispered.

Polarus looked at her his eyes black as sin, “We wait.”

Author's Note

So nervous please comment

Reviews

[fuzz]

I like it. It's really interesting. I'm not usually one for starting a story with a description but you get into the action very quickly and give a reason to care about the characters :)

You set up a personality for Jacyln and Polarus very quickly and you do it well, which makes it more fun to read.

I think you might get more reviews if you post things in smaller chunks of text.

[browkm]

Thanks, I never thought about spliting it up before. I'll have to try it.