The Last Vampyre Prophecy

by Ezell Wilson, April

  I nod, “Actually, yes.” I say and glance sideways at her to see her reaction, “Never in a million years would I think there would even be a remote possibility of me being introduced to ‘The parents’.” I gesture quotation marks with my fingers and she grins.

  “Well, never in a million years would I have guessed the first man I brought home would be a fucking vampire.”

  That makes me laugh so hard that I realize it’s yet another first with her. I’m amazed and in awe of the affect she has on me. I crave her thoughts and insight into anything we encounter. It’s as though I am seeing everything anew. Nothing feels the same and it’s addicting.

  “Touché, my love.” I reach over and grab her hand bringing it to my lips. I taste the arousal flowing through her veins and instantly my mood shifts. I can’t get enough of her.

  She inhales softly and I hear her bite the soft flesh of her lower lip and the slight tearing of the thin layer of skin under her top teeth.

  Every hair on her body bristles and I can hear the wave of goose pimples roll across her skin. She’s thinking of how I took her in the shower before we left. I couldn’t resist the way the water cascaded down her body in a sheet of mirrors reflecting back all that beautiful silky skin.

  But then her thoughts shift and I get an image of Bassam flash over her eyes. Anger erupts instantaneously as I growl and face her, “Why are you thinking of that man?” My muscles have tensed and coiled and I can feel the venom seep into my mouth.

  She flinches at my tone, which makes me see red to have caused her fear. She holds her breath and I can see her thoughts are of nothing sexual toward him she’s just curious as to what happened to him. Where he went.

  I bite my tongue in an effort to reel in my sudden rage. The thought of any man taking space in her mind is enough to fuel me further.

  I wait several minutes to contain myself then look over; “He’s back where he belongs. I never want you to think of him again, Adonia. Ever.” I hiss.

  Her brow’s pull together and I feel her sudden indignation flare then it’s replaced with her own rage—rage toward me. “You’re not my dictator and I sure as hell am not your servant so never use that tone nor tell me what or whom I can think. Ever fucking again, Khai.”

  The natural inclination is to bring her to my heel but immediately that thought makes me burn with shame. I never want her to cave to my wishes. I realize that I love the natural warrior she is and I never want that to change.

  However, my own internal changes will be vast. I will have to fight the urge to make her submit to my will. It’s what we do—conquer and claim.

  I reach over needing to close the distance. I hear her eyelids shut tight and the rubbing of her irises against the thin flesh as I trace my finger over her delicate skin.

  She’s so fragile and trusting. It makes a whole new wave of protection waft from me. I want to protect from the world—from any threat albeit a verbal or physical. I just can’t bear to see the hurt in her eyes when the sadness takes her over.

  As we approach her family home I can feel the tension radiating from the house. Her mother’s energy is double to that of Adonia. She is a strong spirit and I am sensing the enormity of this visit. It’s paradoxical.

  I park at the curb and scan the surroundings. We are in an older neighborhood. The houses lack some maintenance surrounding but her parents home is manicured and a stand out amongst the others.

  I realize they are a proud family with values and it brings a slight smile to my face. Humans have always been a distraction or an intrusion to me. They’ve never held interest until now—until Adonia.

  I realize that my main objective with every thought and intention I have is to just please her. I want her happiness. I want to be the reason.

  As I open her door and reach for her hand another reality hits me, I’ve placed her above myself in all things and that is a paramount feeling that has me stilling in my tracks.

  She feels my hesitation but assumes another line of reasoning, “Hey,” she breaths, “They’re going to love you like I do.” Her hand strokes my chest then moves to my face. I peer down into those emerald eyes and feel like I’m staring into the sun—It’s bright—so bright, but I resist the urge to look away. She’s potent—heady.

  The affect is altering.

  Just as I am stroking my finger reassuringly down her cheek I feel the vitriol roll toward me. Soon after her mother slams the door open and stomps a path directly to us.

  She stops inches from my face and I can see the fire in her eyes—I’m impressed, “Just who the hell do you think you are?” she seethes into my face, “You kidnap my child and whisk her away to some foreign country and deny her to contact me?” her voice is rabid with anger.

  I can feel the natural inclination to strike surge forward but I remain impassive and stare at her for several moments. Surprisingly, she never falters under my gaze. She remains strong and in charge. Two feelings I am not accustomed to with the human race.

  I take a brief moment to scan her thoughts and realize that she is a mask of indifference. I can’t get a total read on her; she’s somewhat of an enigma to me.

  A challenge that beckons me.

  Her father steps from the shadows and I feel his unease in my presence. He senses my abnormality and warning bells ring in his head. I am scanning his thoughts when the door slams once again and two men charge toward us.

  They are bristling with anger and protection. One that is slightly shorter than I shoves into my face and breathes against my skin. I can feel the hatred bubbling. “Just who the fuck do you think you are?” he spits at me, “She’s not some whore that you can hire and bend at your economic wheel.”

  I shift closer and feel my muscles tense to strike and Adonia steps between us. I watch her hand land solidly against his chest. “Stop!” she yells into his face. “Just fucking STOP!” she roars and everyone stills gaping at her.

  Every thought is of her disrespect. I growl deep wanting to protect her from the wrath headed her way.

  Finally her mother pins her with her eyes and grasps both sides of her arms, “Don’t you ever speak to your family that way again. Do you understand me?”

  Adonia feels my intent and places her hand on my chest—calming me. She gives me a loving glance then turn on her family, “I love him,” she states and every eye hones in on her face. “He’s my forever and you need to accept that.” She steps back and curls into my side. “He’s everything to me. I love him more than life and I pray that you accept that because—” she flashes to my face, “I won’t live any life without him. Ever.” She breathes staring right into my eyes.

  I grip her hand and turn to the animosity glaring toward us. This is going to be an uphill battle but nothing I can’t handle.

  I shift toward her father and outstretch my hand, “Sir,” I say reverentially, astonishing even myself, “Khai Garai.” After a few moments he clasps his hand in mine. “I’ll protect her.” I say and realize the forcefulness of my tone. It’s emphatic and strong.

  Every eye trains on me and several minutes pass as different thoughts vacillate between them. Her brothers loathe me and her mother sees past my armor, but her father respects my stance. His regard will be tough to accept but I sense the entire family weighing on his decision of me.

  I pull Adonia protectively to my chest. “I mean her no ill will.” I say addressing each eye, “I would die before I caused her any pain. I love her with every particle of my being.” I say honestly.

  That’s when the entire atmosphere changes. Her brothers step back and her mother gapes at me in indecision. Adonia makes a simple gesture; she leans into me and pulls my face to hers so that she can look into my eyes. Then she lays a sweet soft kiss to my lips and murmurs, “Baby, I love you so much.”

  Her words still my breathing—my senses. I can feel her fervent tender toward me. The entire surroundings blur and for the first time my guard slips down and I am vulnerable.

  I realize tha
t I am just a humble servant at her feet. My life’s entire journey going forward will be ensuring her happiness—at any cost.

  Adonia wraps her tiny hand around my waist and tugs me into her frame, “He’s part of my package,” she professes, “It’s us or nothing.”

  The silence is piercing to even my ears. Each pair of eyes dart between one other looking for an answer.

  Finally her farther steps forward and grips her mothers hand pulling her in his wake, “If you promise to love her in every way she deserves and respect her beyond boundaries, then…” he hesitates, “I couldn’t ask for a better mate for my beloved daughter.” He pins me with his unique stone glare, “But if your hurt her in any way I can promise that your ending will be slow and torturous.”

  I suppress my grin. I like him—I really fucking like him. Instead I extend my hand, “Sir, I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

  And just like that the tension is cut with the proverbial knife and every shoulder sags with relief.

  Her mother takes a deep breath and speaks through tension, “Lunch is on the table. We’ll eat then discuss your trip.” She barks and I bite my tongue.

  How will I explain my aversion to food? Fuck, how will I explain my general demeanor?

  My instinctual reaction is to grasp her and hold her close as the emotions filter through me, but she places her hand on my arm and an instant calm descends upon me.

  We follow in her mother’s footsteps into the house. Her brother’s emotions are rolling over me like a tank. They want to expose me for what they think I am—a predator.

  And how close they are is frightening, but with Adonia that isn’t even close to the real intention.

  When we open the front door I can smell the herbs and heavy olive oil. My aversion becomes forefront.

  Adonia shoots me a side-glance in pity and smiles at her mother, “It smells delicious mom.”

  Her mother grunts, “Yeah, well I hope it isn’t cold by now, it took you forever to get here.”

  Adonia sighs, “We’re early, mom.”

  Her mother says nothing and we continue through the aged house. The wood smells of early sixties lumber from the extreme northeast. Back then the patches of forests used for milling were crop dusted with a now banned chemical that soaked the wood and left a sour resin odor.

  I catch the flicker of a feline presence and know they have a cat. A cat that will undoubtedly let everyone know that I am not a welcomed visitor.

  The dining table is set with plates and cutlery and a large mound of fresh bread in the center. I catch the garlic hanging around the room and grin inwardly. It also did not escape me that her mother is wearing a blue glass ball with a painted eye around her neck.

  Greeks are very superstitious people. The eye is a deterrent to matiasma or ‘evil eye’. They believe it to be caught by a jealous or envious person and cause physical and mental anguish. Her mother is a strong spirit.

  We file into the small space and Adonia leads me around the table and motions for the chair aside hers. Her father blesses the food and pulls his chair. Once he is seated everyone else follows.

  Her mother is glaring at me across the table and her brothers each are bristling with anger and suspicion. The detective, Dean, is rolling through a list of perpetrators in his head trying to pin me. I suppress a laugh.

  As the food is being passed around Adonia places her hand on my thigh. “Khai has serious food allergies so he had to eat before we came.”

  Every eye flicks in my direction. “Allergies?” Her mother scoffs.

  Adonia’s temper flares, “Yes, mom, allergies.” She snaps.

  Her father levels a glare at the two, “That’s enough,” he castigates, “We’ve a guest and this is not how we act in front of company.”

  Her mother glares at him but nods saying nothing. Adonia squeezes my leg and winks at me grinning.

  Dean places his fork on the table and props his elbows up and thumbs his chin, “So, Khai, do you make it a habit of preying on young girls that work for you?”

  Her father drops his fist on the table and the dishes chatter in protest. “I said that’s enough.” He shouts, “Adonia has made it clear her feelings for this man and we are to respect that. He’s shown us nothing but respect since he arrived and that is to be repaid. Understood?”

  Dean never takes his eyes off of me, “Yes sir,” he responds to his father. This is the normal human reaction I am accustomed to. I show no respect to the race whatsoever and male reactions are always the same. Testosterone fueled indignation.

  However the mind of her other brother, Ryan is greatly different. He’s pondering the connection between us. He knows there is something familiar about me and it has him in thought.

  I place my hand atop hers on my leg, “May I ask where you originate from in Greece?” I ask Polona.

  Her eyes roll slowly to my face, “Megara.” She answers evenly.

  I nod, “I know that area well. My father had many relatives in the west district.”

  She narrows her eyes, “What surname? I do not recognize Garai as a local.”

  “Apostolos. His mother’s side.” I know that bringing up this topic opens a line of questioning I should avoid but I can’t help the curiosity that is running away in my brain. She is a different being than most humans. I can’t get an accurate read on her thoughts and it’s bemusing.

  She stares at me for several long beats then steeples her fingers under her chin. “I’ve been long removed from the area but I’m sure my mother could speak to her ties with any Apostolos’s.”

  I smile, “I’m certain she could.”

  Adonia’s eyes bounce between her mother and me and I can feel the tension in her shoulders. I turn and rest my hand on her neck and squeeze gently at the pressure point and feel the stress fall away.

  “Ok?” I ask softly.

  She blinks then nods and I can sense the sudden arousal begin to saturate her body. I bite my tongue to keep from reacting.

  Her father clears his throat and I welcome the intrusion. I break our gaze and look at him. “So tell me, what was this work trip that Adonia needed to assist you with on her first day of work?”

  I smile politely, “Once I interviewed Adonia and realized her major I knew she would be the perfect counterpoint. It just so happened that I had a business meeting already arranged and her arrival was perfect timing.”

  He eyes me with interest, “And what was the business meeting?”

  “I’m funding an archeology crew in southern Athens and Adonia’s knowledge in Environmental studies provided quite a bit of insight to the preservation of the study.” I lie.

  I feel Adonia’s shock at my obvious bullshit answer and she’s nervous of questions that will be thrown her way.

  I turn and grin at her, “Isn’t that right, baby?”

  Silence falls all around and everyone collectively gasps at my endearment, including, Adonia. My smile widens; I can’t help it. This is pure entertainment for me and I’m loving it.

  Her brother drops his fork onto his plate causing the metal to ring in my ear, “Oh please!” he shouts, “You two barely know each other. Stop with the charade.” He spits.

  I give him a look that must be murderous because he leans back and fear shoots across his eyes. Some people are natural observers and he is one. He knows there is something to me and warning bells are blaring in his head.

  I wipe my face clean, “True, but I knew she was it when I first laid eyes on her.” They would never know just how true that statement is.

  Adonia wraps her hand around mine. “And the same goes for me. So stop with the rude comments and show him some fucking respect!” she shouts.

  The warning in her tone has even me turning to her. She’s staking her claim on me and letting everyone know I’m hers. The thought is more pleasing and intoxicating than anything I’ve ever felt.

  It makes me want to take her right here and show her how she’s mine. She reads my emotions and a blush works
across her cheek as she looks down at her plate and takes a deep breath.

  Her father stands. “I’ve had enough.” He says dropping his napkin on the table. He points to Dean, “You. Outside, now.”

  Wordlessly he shoves his chair back hard against the floor and stalks from the room.

  Adonia squeezes my hand and I see her thoughts are concern for me. I squeeze back and give her a side glance, “Don’t worry, love, I’m a big boy, remember?” I murmur and watch the blush fan across her cheeks. She’s remembering this morning in the shower and I grin when she flashes the image of me walking from the shower and how her eyes remained focused on my bare retreating form.

  Polona set her wine glass down. “So, exactly what will you be doing at this company?” she asks Adonia.

  “She’s going to be heading the new green imitative that I have planned for Garai Industries and my subsidiaries.” I respond coolly.

  Her arctic glare settles on me. “Do you make it a habit of answering for the ladies that accompany you?”

  I get the insight to how Adonia became so headstrong. Her mother radiates independence.

  I smile serenely, “No.” I say smoothly, “But I’m very impassioned by the work your daughter will accomplish at my company and I felt the need to impart that to you.”

  She glares back at me irritated by my answer. She gets the undercurrent of sarcasm in my delivery and it feeds her anger. My eyes are dancing with entertainment. Her mother positively loathes me.

  Moments later Dean and her father return to the table. Everyone has abandoned their plates and the awkward silence is affecting everyone but me. I stare impassively at each set of eyes inviting them to ask more questions—bring it on.

  Adonia softly pushes her chair from the table and wipes her mouth. I notice she hardly touched her food and that irritates me.

  She glances at her mother, “Thanks so much for lunch, mom. It was delicious.” She says standing. “We need to head back to the city. I’ve a lot to do to prepare for work tomorrow and we really need to get home.” As the words leave her mouth she drops her jaw in shock. A warm feeling courses through me at the thought of her calling it, “home”.