The Nosferatu Adventures
page 195, chapter 195
Our heroine sat on the edge of the window bench, breathing in the night air. She didn't turn to look at the man who had silently walked up beside her, who reached his pale hand out to hers lifting it to his lips. She barely acknowledged his presence until he nearly ripped her arm out of the socket, a look of disgust on his face.
"Where's the ring?" Victor asked holding her left hand in a steel grip. "Please tell me you didn't loose it already."
"No ring. There was a locket. Which I didn't really decide to keep." she replied through clinched teeth, trying not to let the older male know he was breaking the small bones in her hand.
"My nephew is a fool!" he tossed her hand aside only to grab the female by the shoulders, forcing her to her feet.
"I'm the fool for believing he cared." she whispered closing her eyes. Victor sighed, bringing his hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose before gently tracing her jaw with his knuckles.
"You're not a fool. The boy ripped your beating heart out with his bare hand. Trust me, nothing says I love you don't ever leave me; more then that. Don't forget, werewolves are not known for keeping their emotions in check. Drama is their middle name the whole lot of them." he bent his forehead down to touch hers, breathing in her scent. He licked his lips, the tip of his tongue gleaming from saliva.
"What are you?" our heroine asked. "You're not a werewolf, not a banshee, not even a sidhe yet you have this..." she nearly swooned as she felt the pull he had over her tighten around her spine. "draw to you. I know Dagan told me that when you two fought last time, you didn't bleed. Not even for a second. So what are you?"
Victor said nothing as he leaned in his mouth crushing hers. She fell limp against his body as all the air seemed to rush out of her; the feeling suddenly of her very lifeforce being pulled from deep in the core of her stomach. Choking, she found herself sitting back down, the older male across the room by a large painting. Shadows seemed to engulf him as a fire began to burn in a fireplace in one of the rooms. The door to it opening on it's own allowing the heat and light to dance in glowing licks across the shadowed figure. Raising a hand the flames went out on their own as if they were never lit in the first place. "I'm not much different then you or the Seer. You're both creatures that live off of others energy. Their fears, their desires, their...intimacy."
"You...your an incubus." our heroine swallowed as she felt another dizzy spell coming on, the baby lycanthrope she carried turning her stomach. She braced herself against the wall as she gave in to the vomit. "Oh need a mop."
"I'm surprised you didn't figure it out sooner. With the Seer being one step away from it himself and how close you two are." there was a hint of jealousy to the male's voice as he was suddenly in front of her again helping her to her feet. "I figured he would have attempted to rescue you himself by now. Or at the very lest, his precious book." Our heroine was unable to answer as everything went black.
Rolf raised a heavy foot as he climbed up the side of the rocks. Their battle won, his title reclaimed, he now tended to burying his men. This was the last, 29 in all. The few who had survived would rest in the castle while he continued on back to find our heroine. The dreams of the white wolf had been plaguing him for weeks, getting worse and worse. Something was terribly wrong with the baby and he felt compelled to make sure the female was okay. She had become a sister to him; replacing the one he'd lost so many years before. Anezka had been pushed from his mind on the day he stole her from his family.
The sound of rocks being dug up filled the air, deafening the large werewolf from everything around him, letting him be trapped in his own misery. Dirt quickly covered his hands as he sniffed back the memories; his curtain of dark curls obstructing his view. Flicking his hair out of his face, the werewolf turned picking up the final member of his army, dropping his dead body into the grave. He refused to allow himself the luxury of remembering a time when his younger sister had been part of their family. Anezka was better off now, he'd seen to that. The day Rolf had traded his soul to Odin in order for the girl to stay human, to never come into her lycanthrope side. To have a proper chance to find happiness that a female werewolf never did.
He laughed out loud to no one. What a joke that turned out to be. Now our heroine was facing the same fate because she held the last spec of Rolf's soul herself. Loki ever the trickster got his female werewolf after all.
Tune in again for another installment of the Nosferatu Adventures starring your heroine...me(straight up story. The plot thickens...)