Chapter 2
Lucifer
Yvonne sits on the porch, on the third step.
Her blue, almost translucent eyes bore into mine.
From a strangers point of view, the woman looks ethereal.
She looks like the beauty you see described in books, resembling a Goddess.
White hair falls down her waist, tied into a neat side braid.
When she sees me, she all but beams in excitement.
Her eyes are filled with excitement, almost sparkling in the night. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say this is too easy. Luckily, I do know better. She’s up to something, and the fact that I can’t tell what she’s plotting or planning, is annoying me beyond words.
Two hundred years.
That’s how long this woman has cursed me for. She put me to sleep, forced my mind to stay awake while it replayed the most horrible, traumatizing piece of my memory over, and over again. I was aware that it was all a dream; yet not once, was I able to stop myself from killing Martha.
The dream would always start off the same.
I’d get home from hunting, and from spending countless hours trying to get my bloodthirst under control. Martha never wanted to live in the castle with my family, simply because they terrified her. So, we had a little cottage in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by the gardens that Martha nurtured.
Each time I arrived home, Martha would greet me with a smile.
Her lively, dark chocolate eyes would greet me, and it would melt away any anxiety I’d been feeling.
She’d be in the kitchen area, cooking something delicious.
Although I couldn’t taste it, I could smell it.
Just from the smell alone, I knew it was divine.
Somehow, things went astray.
The knife she’d be holding in her hands would slip, and she’d end up slicing her palm open. The smell of her blood would overflow my senses, and the delicious cooking would be long forgotten.
No matter how much I tried to resist the temptation, I was always too weak. In an instant, I’d be in front of her, my eyes filled with blood-lust, and no matter how much she begged me not to, I was unable to prevent myself from feeding off her.
That’s how I killed my wife.
The wretched woman in front of me, has forced me to relive the most haunting memory of my life for two hundred years. She dared to use her wicked, little spells on someone like me and it’s time she paid what she owed.
“You look awfully calm for someone who’s about to die,” I step forward, hands clasped behind my back. I don’t trust myself not to strangle her immediately, so I’m keeping my hands as far away from her as possible.
The rage bubbles deeply within me, and I don’t want to force it down. In fact, I want to let it roam freely; to satisfy the need I have for vengeance. But I need this to last. If I kill her now, it will be no different than letting her walk away.
Yvonne Valois will regret ever cursing me. I’ll ensure her life becomes as torturous as the curse she inflicted upon me, until she dies in a painful, pathetic death.
“Oh? I’m about to die?” She asks, blinking. The tone of her voice is annoying me more, if possible. The way she’s acting all innocent, as if I said something outrageous. Then, she chuckles.
This bitch dares to chuckle at me?
“I don’t think you’ll find this funny once I’m done with you, Yvonne.”
“Don’t threaten me with a good time, Lucifer,” she mocks, her voice dropping.
She plops her chin on her knees, looking up at me, completely and utterly undisturbed that she’s staring in the eyes of death.
“After all, I’m the one who lured you here, no?
Do you really think I’m so stupid not to have safety measures in place? ”
“Perhaps, but none of those little spells will help you.”
“If I recall correctly, it was those ‘little spells’ that put you to sleep.”
“You got lucky,” I clench my jaw, hating how quickly she managed to get under my skin. “There won’t be a second chance.”
“Luck has nothing to do with it, Lucifer,” she looks up at me with such hatred in her eyes, that even I falter for a moment. The wind blows in her face, yet her expression remains unchanged, even when a couple of stray strands of her hair hit her eyes. “It’s skill.”
I suck in a sharp breath. I’m one moment away from ripping out her fucking tongue. There’s smugness to her voice, and she’s not even trying to hide it. Her eyes are sparkling with mischief, those damned eyes making my reflection shine in them.
“Skill?” I repeat, gritting my teeth. “You lucked out, Yvonne. The only reason your curse was successful was because I didn’t see it coming. Had it been diff—”
“But, that is precisely why it was skill, Lucifer,” she cuts me off, her voice rising. “I managed to trick the oldest vampire alive, and to put a curse on him. That isn’t luck. It’s skill.”
“You’re a dead woman walking, Yvonne,” I inch closer to her. “You’re going to wish you never put that curse on me.”
“No, Lucifer,” she breathes out. “You’re the one who’s going to wish you never crossed my path because I won’t ever be done with you, even after you’re dead. I’ll make sure the very soul knows no peace.”
“Funny,” I chuckle, the depth of the sound causing her to flinch. The movement was slight, catching her off guard, and she rises to her feet. She’s hiding her fear well, but it’s there — I can smell it. “Because you should know by now, vampires have no soul.”
A small smile tugs on the corners of her lips, something akin to pure excitement flashing her eyes. “I never said it was your soul I was going to torture.”
Martha.
That’s it, that’s the straw that breaks the camel’s back.
In an instant, my hand wraps around her throat, squeezing the soft flesh.
Yvonne gasps loudly, her mouth parting. I can’t even focus on the fact that I’m almost strangling her to death — all I can focus on is the fact that this bitch, now seems even more excited.
I could’ve put up with everything she threw my way, except for this. How dare she even suggest she would mess with my Martha’s soul. This is something I will never forgive. She doesn’t get to even think about my wife, let alone try to use her as a mean to get her revenge on me.
“Listen to me, Yvonne, and listen to me carefully,” I lower my voice, the threat clear.
“If you so much as think of using my wife’s soul as a bargaining chip, in your plans.
I will make you beg me for death. Whatever you think you are capable of doing to me, do it.
But don’t you think, not even for a second, that I will let you use Martha. She’s fucking innocent.”
“So was my coven,” she replies, and I falter for a moment.
The words are softly spoken, almost like a mantra that she’s been repeating.
“And they’re all dead because of your fucking family.
So you have no right to tell me what I can, and cannot use against you.
You should be fucking happy I even allowed her soul to have a moment of peace.
You never should’ve made me an enemy, Lucifer because tonight, I become your worst nightmare. ”
A low hiss comes from me, and I pull my hand back from her throat immediately, the burning sensation cutting through my flesh. I take a look, and I find myself at a loss for words.
No matter how severe the wound, I always heal. Unless the bracelet is off, I’m staked through the heart, or my head is ripped off — every single wound always heals immediately.
But this… it’s as though my flesh has turned human again.
What the fuck did she do to me?