Dark Descendants - Raife Part 1

DESCENDANTS OF DARKNESS:.

RAIFE.

by MARIANNE LACROIX.

She murmured in his mind, "Come to me, my love." Powerless to resist her spell, he trotted through the streets of the French Quarter. A force beyond his control led him onward, searching for the one she called.

He was her familiar, her loyal companion, and her advisor. Tonight, Yvette had taken her destiny into her own hands and cast the spell for him, Claude, to bring back the man destined to be her paramour.

Yvette had cast this same spell before through the years, but after a strange dream the previous night, she awoke, sure that tonight she would find her one true love.

Through the bond she would find with this destined love, Yvette could draw upon her magic more than ever before. There was always a price to be paid to the Blessed for the magic she used, and in her case, power came from s.e.xual gratification. Pleasure from o.r.g.a.s.m combined with the power of love could never be surpa.s.sed.

Unfortunately, at thirty-four, his mistress was losing hope to ever find that one true love.

At times, Claude felt sorry for her when the loneliness ate at her soul, and only he was her comfort. But a cat had limited abilities. They could discuss things with their mental connection, but he couldn't give her the love of a soul-mate.

He was among the Blessed creatures put on Earth to guide and protect the Gifted of the Divine Lady. Many of his relatives were guardians for their human counterparts. Claude had been with his mistress in her current life since he found her when she was seventeen. Like some of the other sacred pets charged to guard the priestesses, Claude was immortal. As one of the Blessed-favored humans, Yvette's soul was also immortal. Her body, however, was human, but her spirit regenerated and returned to Earth in different forms. Her magical talents took a toll on her mortal life.

His mistress had grown up gifted with special talents that set her apart from her peers. Apparently, she had gone through life in New Orleans drawn to the rituals and beliefs of the many residents of the past. She felt the most comfortable while practicing the magical arts.

Onward he padded, toward strange cheering punctuated by the sound of steel against steel. What could be making such a ruckus? But as he came into the area known as Pirate's Alley--located between Chartres and Royal Streets, and separating the Spanish Cabildo from St. Louis Cathedral-- Claude remembered the tales of pirate captains such as Jean Laffitte and dueling pirates reliving their bygone days. It was said that echoes of slave auctions from captured prisoners of attacked vessels could be heard in the dead of night in the haunted alley. Claude shivered at the thought.

Mist inched along the moist ground, carrying the ghostly voices of the long dead. Ghosts. Spirits. Claude knew what they were, being privy to some of his mistress's clients wishing to contact the deceased.

He took a deep breath, all the while hearing Yvette whisper in his mind, "Come to me and sample the sweets of love. I call to you, mon chere."

Claude knew the message would be heard by the one man--the only one--who could answer Yvette's prayer.

There before him, the souls of the dead were very much stirring. Cheering and yelling at the two clashing swords filled the air. Claude sat and watched the men--no, not men. Something else, something...

Claude sniffed the air and caught their scent. He groaned inwardly, if cats could be allowed such a noise. Vampire. The scent was unmistakable. It was close to the cat-shifter scent, but more potent with...evil. Although, these two duelists didn't seem evil, laughing and fighting before the jovial pirate ghost crowd.

One of the vampires looked up, and his masculine beauty--blue eyes, dusty blonde hair, and a muscular physique--struck Claude. A perfect mate for his mistress.

The pair stopped their duel, and the one who heard Yvette turned to Claude. Realization filled the vampire's eyes and Claude approached him.

* * * *Rapists, murderers, and criminals...they had made up the base of the original population in New Orleans. Even after death, they still haunted the city's bars and hotels. But only in Pirate's Alley did they gather to relive their glories.

Among voices rising in excitement, steel clashed against steel. Raife and Vincente practiced here in order to remain close to their departed friends.

Dueling reminded them of their glory days of sailing the seas and fighting for their countries. In life, Raife and Vincente had been enemies; now, centuries later, they were comrades.

As they fenced for the crowd, a voice came loud and clear through the cheers--a feminine voice singing.

Raife held up his hand and stopped Vincente's advance. The ghostly audience moaned and groaned in disappointment, for the fight had been going so well.

"You hear that?" Raife asked his friend.

Vince laughed. "I don't hear anything but our amigos screaming out for me to finish you off."

Raife heard the voice calling to him more clearly...

"Come to me and sample the sweets of love. I call to you, mon chere."

He looked around, searching for the source of the voice, so sweet in tone.

Then, trotting from amid the pirates' spirits, a black cat appeared on the field of battle and rubbed against Raife's legs.

He picked up the cat and looked intently at it. Then, he heard her again...

"I call to you. Come to me..."

"What is it, amigo? A witch's spell?" Vince asked.

The cat mewed, and Raife knew it had answered the question.

A witch called to him...and he felt powerless to resist...

After placing the cat on the ground, he unfastened his scabbard from his hips and handed it, along with his sword, to Vincente. "Hold on to these for me." Turning back to the cat, now gazing up at him with piercing green eyes, Raife instructed, "Take me to her."

"Amigo, are you sure this is such a good idea?"

The cat took a few steps, then glanced back at Raife, indicating for him to follow. "It's obvious I'm expected. I don't feel any immediate danger, but if that changes, I'll call you."

Vincente nodded.

Raife stepped after the cat, trotting ahead into the deserted street.

"Yes, mon amour, come to me. Love me," her voice whispered as he followed the feline familiar. It seemed the voice came from the cat, or was directed through it.

Images of supple flesh caressed his mind. Why did she call to him alone? Why hadn't Vince heard her? What sort of magic beckoned?

If only it was destiny that called like it had for his friends. Both Alonso and Leo had recently found their life-mates. Even the dangerous Lucius had fallen under the spell of a beautiful woman. To see his wild character tamed was something Raife had thought impossible.

This night was full of surprises. Only hours ago he had fought against some of the more unsavory creatures, with Eva among them. Seeing her again had brought a wave of pain and emptiness. Raife had loved her so long ago, and the ache of her cruel actions had left scars upon his heart.

She was evil, a demon, and she had gotten away.

He cursed to himself in letting her escape the end of his sword. Running her through, however, would have been too good for the likes of her. She had spent centuries turning unknowing humans into vampires, and seducing them into her service. Raife was one of her victims.

He hated the sight of her; the mere thought of her made him sick. But still, she retained the flawless beauty of a G.o.ddess. Too bad she possessed a heart of ice and a cruel streak that ran deeper than the Atlantic Ocean. Since the days when Eva had ripped open Raife's soul, women in his life came few and far between. They were delights in the feed, or satiation to his s.e.xual urges, but he preferred female vampires to the delicate life of a human woman. Ordinary humans couldn't withstand the harsh mating of an immortal, and he made sure he never took any chances.

The cat continued to trot along the street. A few humans and vampires stalked the shadows; some predators, some victims. The vampires that recognized Raife slid back out of sight. They hunted, and when bloodl.u.s.t hit, some had a hard time keeping the beast at bay. Raife had no problem controlling his inner demon, but newer vampires struggled to keep the balance of good and evil.

In the beginning, Raife had been much like those fledgling creatures. If not for Leonardo, he probably would have greeted the dawn long ago. Leo had picked him up while feasting upon wh.o.r.es in England at the time of Elizabeth I. Earlier that same evening, he had been questioned as to why he never seemed to age while his queen deteriorated. Leo knew it was time to move on.

Raife and Leo began their friendship and traveled the world to sate their hungers. When they eventually arrived in New Orleans, they met Vincente, born during the same time period as Raife. The vampires became friends, despite their difference of cultures and upbringing. Long ago, as a loyal Englishman, Raife would have hated Vince and his Spanish blood, but they shared a similar love--the sea.

They spent hours reminiscing about the glory days of old, fighting for king and country upon the seas. Nothing could invigorate a man more than the feel of the wind and salt spray against the skin. They understood that pa.s.sion, and became fast friends. Nights of fencing in Pirate's Alley was only one of the things they did to recapture the past.

The cat disappeared into a building ahead. Raife mused at the sign high above the street. "Bell, Book, and Candle," he said and chuckled.

Appropriate. Like Jimmy Stewart's character in the movie of the same name, he was being drawn into the witch's lair by magic.

He stepped to the doorway and peered inside. In the darkness, he saw the figure of a woman silhouetted against the soft glow of candlelight. She leaned over, picked up the cat, and purred to it.

"Come in, mon chere. Do not fear me," she said in a melodious voice that vibrated through Raife's entire being.

He stood transfixed by the heavenly sight of her stoking her pet. Long-denied sensations surged to life.

"Do you fear me?" she asked as she placed her familiar on a nearby counter.

"No," he replied, crossing the threshold of her store.

Various items pertaining to magic and witchcraft lined the walls. Spell books crammed shelves, while candles and crystal beads, Tarot decks and other paraphernalia lay everywhere. Rich green velvets covered several tables, all arranged in attractive displays of crystal b.a.l.l.s and stones like quartz, tiger's eye, and amethyst. Incense filled the air with the scent of lavender. It wrapped about Raife's body with wispy fingers, comforting and inviting. He breathed deeply, letting the magical essence soothe his apprehensions.

He smelled her scent, purely woman, utterly female. Even the fragrance of her excitement drifted through the air, calling to him to taste the sweet honey between her legs.

"Why did you call to me?" he whispered, unable to deny his arousal at her closeness.

"Because only you can fulfill my needs."

"And those would be?" He took another step closer. Her features lay in the darkness, but his ethereal eyes made out her cla.s.sic beauty--skin like creamy cappuccino, eyes dark like obsidian gemstones, black and mysterious, but bright and sparkling.

"I need love, mon chere. Only the one who could fulfill my need heard my call."

"I heard you," he replied in a husky voice.

"I know." She moved toward him, closing the distance between them, and he saw her more clearly. She was of an exotic heritage, probably Creole, and extremely beautiful. Her skin was smooth, and her lips were full and red, almost silently begging him to kiss them.

"And now that I am here, what do you intend to do?"

She touched him above the small V of his shirt. Her fingertips burned against his exposed skin, not at all unpleasant. "I want you to make love to me."

This was more than any man could take. h.e.l.l, he was a vampire. Didn't she understand he could kill her? A vampire could easily rip apart a human lover. "I'm not an ordinary man, love. I'm...beyond human."

She pressed her body against his. Her heat called out to him. "I know what you are. It doesn't matter. You are meant to be mine."

He raised his hands and tightly held her upper arms. "A witch is still mortal. You tempt me too far. Beware, this isn't something to take lightly."

Leaning closer, she touched the sensitive base of his neck with her tongue. She was seducing him into her world. He had followed her familiar into her lair, and now, he was at the mercy of a witch.

Her warm, moist tongue danced over his skin. She unb.u.t.toned his shirt, allowing her access to his chest. As she licked his skin, Raife moaned.

When she teased one of his nipples, he held her head to him, urging her to continue. She gently bit the erect nipple, and he about lost control. How much could a man take when a beautiful seductress tantalized his senses with such expertise?

Grasping her head between his hands, her silky, long tresses caressing his fingers, he gazed into her face. Such a creature couldn't be real. Was she a vision made to tempt him for some other reason?

Her tongue flicked out and ran over her upper lip; her eyelids closed in heaviness of desire. Her breath became labored and quick, while excitement edged every feature of her face. Raife heard the pounding of her heart and the flow of rich, hot blood coursing through her veins. Such a temptation.

One he wouldn't resist tonight.

He closed his lips over hers and surrendered himself into the power of this enchanting woman.

Yvette couldn't control her body's yearnings. When this man had approached her Wiccan supply shop, she had felt his true nature.

Vampire...

So be it. A vampire was more than she could have hoped for. His immortality would give her exactly what she needed.

She had been a witch all her life, and in all her past lives. Magic was her close companion, wrapping her in its protective embrace. When she called upon her powers, however, they needed to be replenished. s.e.xual desire and pa.s.sion were driving forces of humanity, and for her, they were her methods to repay the G.o.ddesses for their strengths. o.r.g.a.s.m usually met the requirements of repayment, but as she aged, she needed more, needed her own body's climax in addition to a man's. Only with the release of s.e.m.e.n into her could she repay her magical debt. Paired with the strength of love, the act held incredible power and energized her Wiccan charm.

Last night she dreamed of a man, strong and virile. He lurked nearby, just within reach. His dream form touched her and spasms wracked her into wakefulness. She climaxed at the merest touch of his dream-state hand.

Summoning the G.o.ddesses that evening, she chanted a spell, calling to her destined lover to come to her. Sending Claude into the city had broadened the call, homing in on the one to answer her prayers.

When he had approached her shop, Yvette immediately realized he was an immortal, a vampire. Her body quickened at his presence as he stood under the soft street light. Her c.u.n.t instantly ached for his c.o.c.k to fill her to the hilt. Images of him beating into her body, setting the scene for a powerful o.r.g.a.s.m, flashed through her mind, and her p.u.s.s.y wept in want.

She had invited him into her store, burning to feel his naked flesh against her own. His long blonde hair fell about his shoulders in a wild, untamed manner, and his sapphire eyes caressed her with their heated gaze. She was drawn to him beyond her own understanding. The need to feel his skin against her tongue was too tempting.

He fought for control, but she seduced him like an expert, drawing upon her power of s.e.xual allure to ease him into her trap.

It was a trap. She wanted to imprison this handsome vampire within her arms, and have him submit to her kisses. He resisted, but the soft press of her body against his apparently became too much, and he let all inhibitions fly and raped her mouth with his own.

With her palms, she mapped the hard planes of his muscles along his back and shoulders, and judging from his quick intake of air, it excited him more. His tongue plundered her mouth in hot strokes, drinking her into his senses.

"Witch..." he murmured as he nibbled her jaw. She felt his fangs sc.r.a.p along her skin, and she inhaled sharply at the pleasurable pain.

Sighing, she dropped back her head to allow him better access to her neck. Somehow, the want for him to drink from her grew overwhelming. As much as she planned to take from him all he had to offer--love and s.e.xual gratification--she wanted to give in return. Where did that desire come from? She was so used to taking from men when she tempted them into her power, but this was different. This was more than she had ever expected. He was to be her soul-mate.

His fangs sank into her neck.

Her womb clinched in need to have him while he drank. Chills ran across her nerves and heat soaked into her bones. She felt on fire, and as his body moved against hers, it became the most erotic moment she had ever experienced. His hands molded her form to his, and her aching b.r.e.a.s.t.s pressed firmly against his chest. His mouth worked at her vein, and her breath came in quick pants.

Then her body lost restraint in a powerful climax. She gasped and cried aloud, melted against him and his embrace. Burning flames licked at the vessels pumping hot blood through her, and she rode out the ecstasy brought on by this vampire.

He lifted her into his arms and held her while she clutched her legs around his waist. Even through the fabric of his jeans, she felt his bulging erection straining to dive into her. It brushed against her sensitive c.l.i.t, and she shattered again.

She screamed as he steadied her body to ride his hips. His tongue licked at the wound on her neck. His heated tongue caressing her bruised skin made her whimper.

"Your blood is a delicacy, love." He backed her to the cashier counter, setting her rump on the hard wooden surface. His hands left her body, but briefly as he unb.u.t.toned his jeans and released his c.o.c.k.