Title: Untitled

Text Copyright © 2003 by Devon

Summary: “Leah sank to the floor, trembling. The dagger—it was his, she was sure of it. She remembered it even after all these years. The bluish tint of the metal, the ebony of the hilt and intricate silver design. He was back. Jeron was back.”

Author Note: This is an unfinished/work-in-progress piece that I will be changing or adding to if any reviewers wish me to (I know, it still needs a lot of work). Please, if you have any comments, constructive criticism, or encouragements please review or email. I would love to read what you have to say.

It was evening when she finally stirred from her sleep, finding the day gone with dusk in its place. The sky was dark, the air cool and dank. Tendrils of red and purple remained in the heavens but slowly faded into the black of nightfall. Once again, another day passed into eternity.

Sitting on the windowsill, Leah had a perfect view of the life settling down beneath her. She wasn’t fond of the crowded, newly built cities of today. Preferring quietness, she often retreated to this old abandoned house and remained there for many hours a time, watching the little ants below her. It was funny how, as a human, one went about their life deeming it most important. However, in reality, it was just a speck of dust, easily made and easily rid of. With little consequence or meaning.

She almost missed it, though. The innocence was comforting, as was the false belief in life. If she had the chance, she would probably choose it over her bleak immortality.

Sighing, Leah turned and faced the mirror on the nearest wall. Unsurprisingly, there was no reflection, only empty space. Like the oldest of her kind, she had no image in a looking glass. It was a staple of her eternal life. Her reflection had faded as she had disappeared from humanity. There was none who remembered her old self except one.

The scars he had left on her had never healed, even with the eternal blood running through her veins. The marks stood out plainly against her ivory skin and the jagged letters of his name still galled her to the core. She could picture him and his infuriating face. He had murdered her parents in cold blood, all the while playing with them and feeding on their terror. His face had been stony and flawless—perfect, as if carved from marble—but there had been something in his eyes, some demonic gleam, which said he was otherworldly.

He was striking with his tall, dark form. It was often said that the most evil of creatures were the often most beautiful. And he was no exception. His eyes were obsidian and fathomless, as intense as the strength that emanated off him. He was an ancient one, feared and well respected. His power was legendry; no one was audacious enough to cross him—excluding her.

Perhaps that’s why he had changed her. His pride wouldn’t let her escape. He had taken her sweet, warm life and had let her fend for her own, alone and naïve with the predators of the night. Only his name had protected her.

Jeron, she spat, hitting the glass of the mirror. Instantly, it broke, shattering into thousands of pieces onto the floor. Crimson blood seeped through cuts on her hand and snaked its way down her forearm. She waited, savoring the brief moment of pain. Her kind healed quickly and as she knew it would, the wound sealed up, leaving a stagnate trail of blood. She would have to feed soon; she was weakening.

A loud knock downstairs punctured the silence. Immediately her senses awakened and crackled dangerously. No one had crossed the threshold in years. Everyone knew of her reputation and desire for solitude.

Quietly, she crept down the stairs. As she neared the door, her senses sharpened, feeling the pale aura of the person. It was merely a mortal and one who did not pose a threat. But she sensed another on his scent. The creature was blood-bonded.

Throwing open the door, Leah grabbed a piece of his shirt and heaved him inside. He fell to the floor from the strength of her pull and grunted at the hard impact.

“What do you want, human?” Leah snapped. His head remained bowed but she could still see that his lip was bleeding. Although she rarely traveled outside the confinements of her house except to hunt, he looked familiar. The lankiness of his body and the way his hair fell boyishly into his eyes revealed that he couldn’t have been more than sixteen. But he didn’t receive pity and instead absorbed a sharp kick to the ribs. “Answer me. I’m tired, boy, and haven’t fed all day.”

With a defiant lift of his chin he raised his blue eyes to her and stared pointedly but his quivering face gave him away. Leah resisted the urge to kick him again.  “I’m here for a social call,”

Leah rolled her eyes. “And?”

He smirked and slightly relaxed, obviously glad to have some leverage over her. “I’m here because of a mutual friend.”

She laughed but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Vampires don’t have friends, human. They have enemies and acquaintances—perhaps even allies, but not friends.  Who really sent you?”

Standing, he reached in his pocket and drew out a slim, black box. She snatched it from his hands and picked off the stark white card from the top. Her name was inscribed in elegant script. However, there was no name in it, nothing to indicate the sender.           

Keeping an eye on the human in front of her, she slowly opened the box and stiffened when she saw the center of the plush lining.

Her voice took on a low rumble. “Who gave this to you?”

“I—”

“I asked: who gave this to you?”

He shook his head silently.

“Get out! Get out now!”

Leah sank to the floor, trembling. The dagger—it was his, she was sure of it. She remembered it even after all these years. The bluish tint of the metal, the ebony of the hilt and intricate silver design. He was back.

Jeron was back.

TBC…

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

Special Thanks to these people:

1. Willum

2. Devonetta