Darcy Branwyn

Songs from my writing playlist: Underworld USA. Alessandro is from ancient Egypt and thousands of years old. Bound by the curse put on him by the female that changed him into a vampire, he’s doomed to wander the earth in search of his Hathor; the goddess of love. Until Kendra, of course.

Tangled Moon:

…It had been years since he’d bitten a human, having long since lived on donated blood, first from the brethren at the monastery, then out of blood banks at hospitals and the Red Cross. He’d been very careful when he’d bitten Kendra. The kind of careful that had only come after centuries of discipline.

As he looked at her sleeping, wrapped in his coat in his arms, he realized that for the first time in a hundred years he was taking fate by the hand. He needed her as bait to draw out and destroy his son, but why did she have to be so beautiful?

Why did she have to taste so good?

He turned his mind forcefully to other things, took out his phone, and texted Lothar Ludvitski, an alpha wolf and his contact among the werewolves.

I have her. She’s safe, he typed.

As safe as she could be, he finished to himself, the flavor of her still in his mouth, pulsing now through his veins.

He received a text back. Thank you. Keep me informed.

For whatever reason, Theron wanted Kendra, probably to use as a hostage against Lothar. If he wanted her, well then, he could come and get her himself. When he did, Alessandro would be there waiting for him.

She shivered and he drew her closer, glad he had fed recently, otherwise he wouldn’t have had any body heat to offer her. He adjusted his back against the tree he was leaning against, wondering how long he should wait to move her versus how long she could stay outside. He wouldn’t get physically tired holding her, even if he’d stood there all night. But the mortal was fragile. Too hot, too cold, too much pressure beneath his hands. Anything could kill her. It’d been a long time since he’d been responsible for a woman.There were things he needed to bear in mind if he wanted to keep her alive.

He hadn’t taken enough of her blood to harm her, even with what he’d withdrawn for the venom. He remembered that much. He knew exactly how much a woman her size could take without needing a transfusion. She’d be sluggish when she woke, from shock and blood loss in equal measures, but she’d recover.

And if she hadn’t stopped him?

He wouldn’t have killed this one. No. Only a young vampire or a mindless Slave would. Instead, he would have had enough to satisfy the beast. Then he would have satisfied the man too.

He could never forget his own preferences, after all. But that was the old man. The old beast laid to rest over a hundred years ago.

He would never forget the day Brother Philip had told him that he could be made new. He’d loved that monk as a brother. He was the first man to tell him that God loved him. Alessandro doubted such things were really possible for a vampire. For all his compassion, Brother Philip had been wrong. Some men really were beyond redemption.

Kendra stirred, wincing over the bruises on her face and neck. He watched as her eyes opened and she woke completely.

And then, as if on cue, she screamed.

It echoed off snowcapped trees. White dusted over them. Her plea was ineffective. Her house was nestled deep into the forest and there was no one to hear her.

He waited patiently for her to run out of air.

“Now that you’re awake,” he said, assessing white skin, golden hair, and blue eyes. “I do believe it is time to go,” he finished. He’d not seen a woman like her until after he’d become a vampire. A woman of Ra, of the sun. No one like that had existed in Egypt…

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