Waiting For My Real Life To Begin
by Laura Spudzmom
Chapter 25
“You sir, could try the patience of a saint.”
The sudden, unexpected sound of a voice startled him, and Charles’s head snapped up from the book he’d been reading, a crease of confusion marring his brow a second later. “I beg your pardon, Miss Emily?”
She huffed and moved farther into the library, a small frown tugging her lips even as exasperated amusement danced in her dark eyes. “You think I’ll just wait for you forever?”
He closed the book and rose to his feet, feeling decidedly out of sorts in the presence of the woman who’d caught his eye the moment after her arrival here in Houston.
She was beautiful; free and learned, and just about the most perfect woman he’d ever laid eyes on… He struggled for words. “My apologies Miss, but today is one of my days off. If you need something, I’m sure George would be happy to see to it. I’ll just go and get him for you…”
She stepped forward, stalling him with a hand on his arm. “You sweet, blind man…” she muttered with a wry curve to her lips and a shake of her head as she stared up into his startled eyes.
“Miss Emily…?” he muttered, now completely perplexed and not a little embarrassed. He was obviously missing something…
With a heavy sigh, she shook her head and looked back into his eyes, now knowing beyond the shadow of a doubt, she would have to be the instigator, no matter how improper it was. “Are you ever plannin’ on courtin’ me properly, Mr. Wilkins, because I’m tired of waiting.”
His breath left him in a rush as his eyes widened. She—she wanted… His heart sped and words seemed to fail him as he watched a coy smile slowly curve her plump, dusky lips. “I—I—why, yes, I would love nothing more, Miss…” he stammered before recovering his manners and bowing over her hand. “Would you do me the honor of allowing me to court you, Miss Emily?”
He looked up in time to see a wide smile bloom on her face, her lovely cinnamon skin now pleasingly flushed. “Why, Mr. Wilkins, I thought you’d never ask,” she quipped with a playful squeeze of his hand. “I would love nothing more.”
A matching smile split his handsome, chocolate-hued features and he glanced out the window. “It’s a mighty fine day out. Would you be amenable to a stroll and a picnic in the park?”
“I believe I would, yes.” she said with a grin. “I’ll just get my things.”
He stared after her as she left the room, his mind slowly catching up to the fact that the object of his discreet affections was now within his grasp. He could’ve whooped and danced a jig…but he had a picnic to gather from the kitchen for their first outing together.
With a delighted chuckle, he went to do just that.
~o0o~
Bella hummed a quiet lullaby, staring down at the sleeping features of her baby with a soft smile before glancing out the window, a frown of worry quickly marring her brow.
Jasper had been gone a full five days now and she hadn’t heard a word, not that she’d really expected to. He’d said this assignment was only supposed to last a matter of days, so she supposed, in this case, no news was good news.
With a sigh, she rose and gently placed little Jace in his cradle before buttoning the front of her dress.
Now that he’d been seen to, she had a visit to make; one that couldn’t wait. She needed blood and only her father could help her with that.
Her frown deepened when she thought about her father and the woman he’d been spending so much time with lately. Bella didn’t like her and it wasn’t only due to what she knew of her from the future, or the past for that matter. She just couldn’t shake the feeling that her father was playing with fire where Katherine was concerned.
Opening the door to the nursery proper, Bella smiled at the young woman they’d hired as a nanny who set her needlework aside and quickly rose to her feet. “Anne, I need to see to some things in town. Jace is fed and down for a nap now, but be sure to keep a close eye on him. I should be back in two hours or so.”
The woman dipped a curtsy. “I’ll see to him, Mrs. Whitlock.”
“Thank you.”
Hurrying down the stairs, she donned a bonnet, her gloves and grabbed a parasol before letting herself out the front door, once again longing for the days of jeans, sneakers, cars, fast-food…jesus, what she wouldn’t give for a pizza and a coke… She smirked as she walked. Not to mention being able to utter the word fuck without half the damn town collapsing with the vapors… Yes, more modern times were definitely calling her, but she loved Jasper beyond all hardship and wouldn’t trade her life with him for anything.
Finally arriving at her father’s house, she tugged the bell cord and stepped back to wait. Seconds later, the door opened and the butler stepped back with a bow. “Mrs. Whitlock, won’t you come in?”
“Thank you Francis,” she muttered as she stepped through, already tugging her gloves off before removing her bonnet. Handing her things over she asked, “Is my father available?”
“He is, Ma’am. If you’d care to wait in the parlor, I’ll announce your presence.”
“A tea service would be appreciated, if you’d be so kind, Francis,” she said with a polite smile.
“Of course, Ma’am,” he said with a bow before leaving her.
Stepping through the doors of the parlor, she made her way to the window and peered out into the garden. It was lovely this time of year, with new growth and blossoms everywhere, but she found it hard to enjoy due to her ever present worry over her husband and this infernal, brewing war.
“Isabella…”
She smiled and turned to greet her father, but the smile dropped from her features when she got a look at him. He looked hastily put together, as if she’d caught him in the middle of less than polite activities… Put bluntly, he looked well-fucked, his hair a tousled mess, his shirt buttoned half-way and what the hell was that on his neck?!
She raised a brow and he shot her a flat look before closing the door. “Rough night, pops?” she asked dryly.
He ran a hand over his hair, went to the sideboard and poured three fingers of bourbon before facing her. “Have a seat.”
She strolled to the settee and perched there, her heavy skirts and corset preventing anything more comfortable than a straight backed posture as she watched him down half the drink in one go. “I ordered tea…”
He smirked and took the chair across from her. “How are you and the baby?”
A polite knock sounded and Francis entered with the tea. After setting it on the table, he bowed out and left as Bella prepared herself a cup. “Care for any?” she asked with an arched brow.
Damon brandished his glass. “I’m good, thanks.”
Taking a sip of the brew, she sat back and answered his question. “We’re fine—at least as fine as we can be with Jasper gone.”
He nodded. “Don’t worry so much. He’s not nearly as helpless as you seem to think he is.”
She sighed. “I know that, it’s just, he’s human, you know? And I can’t shake the feeling that something will happen and we won’t be there to stop it or change him in time and this will all go to shit and the version of him in the future probably doesn’t even exist anymore, and…”
He raised a hand to stop her babbling. “Stop. Just stop,” he said with an arched brow. “And all this worrying is making the situation better, how exactly?”
She sagged and set her tea aside with a frown. “It’s not, but I can’t seem to help myself. I’m a knot of nerves and I feel like I’m about to lose my shit.”
He eyed her knowingly. “You need blood.”
“Yeah, I do,” she admitted with a sigh.
His eyes narrowed. “You’re not pregnant again, are you?”
Her eyes widened. “No! God no…I’ve been careful and Emily’s been dosing me with these herbs…”
“Good. The last thing you need is a brood,” he said as he knocked back the rest of his drink before rising to lock the doors. He unbuttoned his cuff and walked to her, offering his wrist. “Drink, then we’ll finish talking.”
She blinked then nodded before biting and feeding from him. “Thanks,” she muttered, licking her lips and dabbing them with a napkin from the tea service as he refilled his glass before taking his seat.
“Any time, baby girl.”
She picked up her cup and took a sip while eyeing him over the rim. “So, company again last night?”
“Yep.”
“Is she still here?”
He dipped his head. “She is.”
Bella frowned. “What are you doing, Dad? Have you completely lost your fucking mind?”
He rolled his eyes. “I know exactly what I’m doing, don’t worry.”
Bella scoffed. “This is the woman who tore your heart out and stomped it with a fucking smile on her face. And you tell me not to worry?”
He flipped a hand up from the chair arm and nodded. “Yes, don’t worry. I’m a big boy. I can handle her.”
Bella’s lip curled. “I’d rather go up there right now and tear the bitch apart.”
His eyes hardened to steel. “You stay well away from her, Isabella, you hear?”
Bella felt a pang of hurt at his stern, scolding tone. “You’re defending her?”
“I have the situation well in hand and you’ll stay out of it, understand?”
Her eyes misted with tears and Damon could’ve cursed himself. He hadn’t meant to be so harsh, but he knew just what Katherine was capable of when someone dared tangle with her and he didn’t want his daughter in her line of fire…
“Bella, look…” he began with a sigh but she was already standing.
“No, that’s okay. You’ve made yourself clear on the subject. Thanks for the blood. I’ll see you later.”
Before he could say another word, she was gone and with a low growl of frustration, he finished his drink and prepared to head back to the dragon’s den.
~o0o~
The watcher and his partner skulked in the shadows of the alley, just waiting for their prey to pass by again; one bored and the other almost giddy with anticipation. “Ya sure she’s comin’ this’a way again?”
“Yes, I’m quite certain, now shut up,” the eager one snapped, his rheumy eyes narrowed at his hastily recruited partner.
The eager one chanced a peek out at the main street before ducking back to the shadows. “You have the wagon prepared?”
The bored one gave a slow nod while shifting a length of hay that jutted between his chapped lips. “Sure ‘nough, just like ya done told me. Got the tarp in the back too. It’s just over yonder, behind the livery.”
“Good…that’s good,” the eager one muttered, before pulling his hat low and a bandana over his mouth. “Because she’s not getting away this time,” he muttered. “Not until I finally take what I want.”
~o0o~
Dry…
His throat had never been so dry…
And hot…
He could never remember a time when his body burned with fever and shivered with chills in such a way…
It was a contrast in absolute misery…
God in Heaven, did he hurt…
“Isabella…” he croaked as his eyes opened and squinted against the beating sun, a grunt escaping him as the litter he was on jolted for the thousandth time on the rough, Texas terrain.
“Hang in there, Captain, sir. We’ll have ya home in no time.”
Jasper cracked one eye slightly wider as a shadow loomed over him, finally making out the features of his Sergeant. “Water,” he rasped and the company ground to a halt. He barely had time to appreciate the reprieve from constant movement when a water skin was tipped to his parched lips.
“Take it slow,” his Sergeant coaxed as he swallowed and coughed, wincing as the arrow shaft in his side shifted painfully against his rib.
He’d led the charge against the raiding party they’d finally located two days into their mission, and his men were hailing him a hero for his actions. They told him he’d saved countless lives that day, but he hardly remembered any of it, having finally succumbed to an arrow to his side; the same one that pained him so at the moment.
“How far…?” he questioned after choking down another swallow of water.
The Sergeant glanced toward the horizon, his eyes squinting in thought before looking back at his wounded Captain. “At the rate we’re goin’, about two more days, I reckon.”
Closing his eyes, Jasper let that sink in before grabbing his Sergeant’s arm to get his attention. The man leaned down. “Yes sir, Captain?”
“Breast pocket…”
The Sergeant reached in and withdrew a vial which he eyed with a curious frown. “This what ya wanted me to get, Cap?”
Jasper nodded, blinking against the sweat that ran into his eyes. “Yes.”
“What’s it for?”
Jasper’s grip tightened on the man’s arm. “If I—if I get worse…make me drink it.”
The man blinked and Jasper’s fist tightened on his sleeve, his teeth gritting against the pain before continuing. “That’s an order, Sergeant.”
The Sergeant nodded. “Yes sir, Captain. I’ll see to it.”
“Good,” Jasper muttered before relaxing his hold, his hand dropping back to the litter. “Now let’s move out,” he muttered as blessed oblivion took him once again.
~o0o~
Bella was rushing down the boardwalk on her way home, her eyes blurred with tears of hurt and anger when she heard her name called out in cheerful greeting from several yards behind her. “Afternoon, Miss Isabella!”
Turning her head, she’d just spotted a smiling Charles who looked proud as a peacock as he escorted Emily on his arm while carrying a basket with the other. They’d obviously enjoyed a picnic in the park.
She smiled at seeing the two looking so happy and had just turned to greet them properly when the look on Charles’s face turned to horror.
The thought of why that would be had just entered her mind when she felt a blow to the back of her head and her legs folded. She wasn’t completely knocked out, but she was stunned enough to be useless for moments as spots swam in a sickening swirl before her eyes.
“Miss Isabella!” she heard Charles yell as she was hastily dragged into an alley. She then felt her body being lifted and carried at a run before being dumped somewhere and covered.
Her mind whirled as she felt something jolt and then she could make out the sounds of galloping hooves and wagon wheels. ‘Wagon,’ she thought. ‘I’m in the back of a wagon…’
“She’s still a’movin’, Braniff,” she heard an unfamiliar voice speak above the din of their escape.
“Well then, hit her again,” another voice, this one all too familiar, growled. “Just don’t kill the bitch. I like them breathing when I fuck them.”
Cold dread filled her and she kicked and struggled to gain coherence but before she could, she felt another, heavier strike on her temple, and in despair, with Jasper’s name on her lips, she slipped into darkness.
~o0o~
Katherine’s lips curled into a smile as she felt Damon slide back into bed, his hands traveling over her shoulder and down her side to her hip as his lips placed kisses on her neck. “Ummm, welcome back,” she breathed while pushing her ass back against his hardening length.
She turned in his arms and pulled him into a long, languid kiss before drawing away to see his face. “Have a good visit?”
“It was fine,” he said noncommittally as he leaned back against the pillows.
She trailed a manicured finger over his chest. “What did she want?”
“I’d rather not get into that with you.”
She pouted and eyed him speculatively. “Why not?” She sat up and faced him. “Why can’t I know your daughter, Damon? Why do you always insist we stay separate?” She cupped his cheek and ran a thumb over his bottom lip, her tone simpering as she continued. “I love you and I’d like to be involved in every area of your life, including your daughter and grandson.”
“No.”
Her breath caught and she whimpered as he pinned her on her back, her hands locked in one of his above her head. “You take what I give you, or you get nothing at all, you hear?”
With her chest now heaving in excitement, she bit her lip and nodded, the look in his arctic-blue eyes and his commanding presence doing something to her—reaching a place inside—that no man had ever stirred within her before.
“Yes,” she nodded. “I understand.”
A cry of absolute ecstasy was ripped from her when she felt him enter her, his assault bordering on brutal as he took her, her body arching to meet him with every thrust of his cock as he grit his teeth and grunted.
“Oh god above…Damon!” she screamed, her hands clutching his shoulders, sharp nails digging into his flesh as he slammed himself into her relentlessly.
“Who do you belong to, Katherine?” he asked while reaching up to yank her head back by her hair.
She cried out sharply, her head tipped back and body jolting from his brutal strokes. She’d never submitted to any man…never in all her many years on this earth but as she stared into his icy gaze while he was owning her body so completely, she couldn’t deny it.
Not any longer, anyway.
“You Damon,” she admitted, the sincerity in her eyes undeniable. “I belong to you…”
And it was at that moment—when he mastered her heart, body and soul—that she knew her words to be true.
His shout when he finally came was triumphant, the look in his eyes…chilling.
And Katherine Pierce, for the first time ever, knew fright.
“You sir, could try the patience of a saint.”
The sudden, unexpected sound of a voice startled him, and Charles’s head snapped up from the book he’d been reading, a crease of confusion marring his brow a second later. “I beg your pardon, Miss Emily?”
She huffed and moved farther into the library, a small frown tugging her lips even as exasperated amusement danced in her dark eyes. “You think I’ll just wait for you forever?”
He closed the book and rose to his feet, feeling decidedly out of sorts in the presence of the woman who’d caught his eye the moment after her arrival here in Houston.
She was beautiful; free and learned, and just about the most perfect woman he’d ever laid eyes on… He struggled for words. “My apologies Miss, but today is one of my days off. If you need something, I’m sure George would be happy to see to it. I’ll just go and get him for you…”
She stepped forward, stalling him with a hand on his arm. “You sweet, blind man…” she muttered with a wry curve to her lips and a shake of her head as she stared up into his startled eyes.
“Miss Emily…?” he muttered, now completely perplexed and not a little embarrassed. He was obviously missing something…
With a heavy sigh, she shook her head and looked back into his eyes, now knowing beyond the shadow of a doubt, she would have to be the instigator, no matter how improper it was. “Are you ever plannin’ on courtin’ me properly, Mr. Wilkins, because I’m tired of waiting.”
His breath left him in a rush as his eyes widened. She—she wanted… His heart sped and words seemed to fail him as he watched a coy smile slowly curve her plump, dusky lips. “I—I—why, yes, I would love nothing more, Miss…” he stammered before recovering his manners and bowing over her hand. “Would you do me the honor of allowing me to court you, Miss Emily?”
He looked up in time to see a wide smile bloom on her face, her lovely cinnamon skin now pleasingly flushed. “Why, Mr. Wilkins, I thought you’d never ask,” she quipped with a playful squeeze of his hand. “I would love nothing more.”
A matching smile split his handsome, chocolate-hued features and he glanced out the window. “It’s a mighty fine day out. Would you be amenable to a stroll and a picnic in the park?”
“I believe I would, yes.” she said with a grin. “I’ll just get my things.”
He stared after her as she left the room, his mind slowly catching up to the fact that the object of his discreet affections was now within his grasp. He could’ve whooped and danced a jig…but he had a picnic to gather from the kitchen for their first outing together.
With a delighted chuckle, he went to do just that.
~o0o~
Bella hummed a quiet lullaby, staring down at the sleeping features of her baby with a soft smile before glancing out the window, a frown of worry quickly marring her brow.
Jasper had been gone a full five days now and she hadn’t heard a word, not that she’d really expected to. He’d said this assignment was only supposed to last a matter of days, so she supposed, in this case, no news was good news.
With a sigh, she rose and gently placed little Jace in his cradle before buttoning the front of her dress.
Now that he’d been seen to, she had a visit to make; one that couldn’t wait. She needed blood and only her father could help her with that.
Her frown deepened when she thought about her father and the woman he’d been spending so much time with lately. Bella didn’t like her and it wasn’t only due to what she knew of her from the future, or the past for that matter. She just couldn’t shake the feeling that her father was playing with fire where Katherine was concerned.
Opening the door to the nursery proper, Bella smiled at the young woman they’d hired as a nanny who set her needlework aside and quickly rose to her feet. “Anne, I need to see to some things in town. Jace is fed and down for a nap now, but be sure to keep a close eye on him. I should be back in two hours or so.”
The woman dipped a curtsy. “I’ll see to him, Mrs. Whitlock.”
“Thank you.”
Hurrying down the stairs, she donned a bonnet, her gloves and grabbed a parasol before letting herself out the front door, once again longing for the days of jeans, sneakers, cars, fast-food…jesus, what she wouldn’t give for a pizza and a coke… She smirked as she walked. Not to mention being able to utter the word fuck without half the damn town collapsing with the vapors… Yes, more modern times were definitely calling her, but she loved Jasper beyond all hardship and wouldn’t trade her life with him for anything.
Finally arriving at her father’s house, she tugged the bell cord and stepped back to wait. Seconds later, the door opened and the butler stepped back with a bow. “Mrs. Whitlock, won’t you come in?”
“Thank you Francis,” she muttered as she stepped through, already tugging her gloves off before removing her bonnet. Handing her things over she asked, “Is my father available?”
“He is, Ma’am. If you’d care to wait in the parlor, I’ll announce your presence.”
“A tea service would be appreciated, if you’d be so kind, Francis,” she said with a polite smile.
“Of course, Ma’am,” he said with a bow before leaving her.
Stepping through the doors of the parlor, she made her way to the window and peered out into the garden. It was lovely this time of year, with new growth and blossoms everywhere, but she found it hard to enjoy due to her ever present worry over her husband and this infernal, brewing war.
“Isabella…”
She smiled and turned to greet her father, but the smile dropped from her features when she got a look at him. He looked hastily put together, as if she’d caught him in the middle of less than polite activities… Put bluntly, he looked well-fucked, his hair a tousled mess, his shirt buttoned half-way and what the hell was that on his neck?!
She raised a brow and he shot her a flat look before closing the door. “Rough night, pops?” she asked dryly.
He ran a hand over his hair, went to the sideboard and poured three fingers of bourbon before facing her. “Have a seat.”
She strolled to the settee and perched there, her heavy skirts and corset preventing anything more comfortable than a straight backed posture as she watched him down half the drink in one go. “I ordered tea…”
He smirked and took the chair across from her. “How are you and the baby?”
A polite knock sounded and Francis entered with the tea. After setting it on the table, he bowed out and left as Bella prepared herself a cup. “Care for any?” she asked with an arched brow.
Damon brandished his glass. “I’m good, thanks.”
Taking a sip of the brew, she sat back and answered his question. “We’re fine—at least as fine as we can be with Jasper gone.”
He nodded. “Don’t worry so much. He’s not nearly as helpless as you seem to think he is.”
She sighed. “I know that, it’s just, he’s human, you know? And I can’t shake the feeling that something will happen and we won’t be there to stop it or change him in time and this will all go to shit and the version of him in the future probably doesn’t even exist anymore, and…”
He raised a hand to stop her babbling. “Stop. Just stop,” he said with an arched brow. “And all this worrying is making the situation better, how exactly?”
She sagged and set her tea aside with a frown. “It’s not, but I can’t seem to help myself. I’m a knot of nerves and I feel like I’m about to lose my shit.”
He eyed her knowingly. “You need blood.”
“Yeah, I do,” she admitted with a sigh.
His eyes narrowed. “You’re not pregnant again, are you?”
Her eyes widened. “No! God no…I’ve been careful and Emily’s been dosing me with these herbs…”
“Good. The last thing you need is a brood,” he said as he knocked back the rest of his drink before rising to lock the doors. He unbuttoned his cuff and walked to her, offering his wrist. “Drink, then we’ll finish talking.”
She blinked then nodded before biting and feeding from him. “Thanks,” she muttered, licking her lips and dabbing them with a napkin from the tea service as he refilled his glass before taking his seat.
“Any time, baby girl.”
She picked up her cup and took a sip while eyeing him over the rim. “So, company again last night?”
“Yep.”
“Is she still here?”
He dipped his head. “She is.”
Bella frowned. “What are you doing, Dad? Have you completely lost your fucking mind?”
He rolled his eyes. “I know exactly what I’m doing, don’t worry.”
Bella scoffed. “This is the woman who tore your heart out and stomped it with a fucking smile on her face. And you tell me not to worry?”
He flipped a hand up from the chair arm and nodded. “Yes, don’t worry. I’m a big boy. I can handle her.”
Bella’s lip curled. “I’d rather go up there right now and tear the bitch apart.”
His eyes hardened to steel. “You stay well away from her, Isabella, you hear?”
Bella felt a pang of hurt at his stern, scolding tone. “You’re defending her?”
“I have the situation well in hand and you’ll stay out of it, understand?”
Her eyes misted with tears and Damon could’ve cursed himself. He hadn’t meant to be so harsh, but he knew just what Katherine was capable of when someone dared tangle with her and he didn’t want his daughter in her line of fire…
“Bella, look…” he began with a sigh but she was already standing.
“No, that’s okay. You’ve made yourself clear on the subject. Thanks for the blood. I’ll see you later.”
Before he could say another word, she was gone and with a low growl of frustration, he finished his drink and prepared to head back to the dragon’s den.
~o0o~
The watcher and his partner skulked in the shadows of the alley, just waiting for their prey to pass by again; one bored and the other almost giddy with anticipation. “Ya sure she’s comin’ this’a way again?”
“Yes, I’m quite certain, now shut up,” the eager one snapped, his rheumy eyes narrowed at his hastily recruited partner.
The eager one chanced a peek out at the main street before ducking back to the shadows. “You have the wagon prepared?”
The bored one gave a slow nod while shifting a length of hay that jutted between his chapped lips. “Sure ‘nough, just like ya done told me. Got the tarp in the back too. It’s just over yonder, behind the livery.”
“Good…that’s good,” the eager one muttered, before pulling his hat low and a bandana over his mouth. “Because she’s not getting away this time,” he muttered. “Not until I finally take what I want.”
~o0o~
Dry…
His throat had never been so dry…
And hot…
He could never remember a time when his body burned with fever and shivered with chills in such a way…
It was a contrast in absolute misery…
God in Heaven, did he hurt…
“Isabella…” he croaked as his eyes opened and squinted against the beating sun, a grunt escaping him as the litter he was on jolted for the thousandth time on the rough, Texas terrain.
“Hang in there, Captain, sir. We’ll have ya home in no time.”
Jasper cracked one eye slightly wider as a shadow loomed over him, finally making out the features of his Sergeant. “Water,” he rasped and the company ground to a halt. He barely had time to appreciate the reprieve from constant movement when a water skin was tipped to his parched lips.
“Take it slow,” his Sergeant coaxed as he swallowed and coughed, wincing as the arrow shaft in his side shifted painfully against his rib.
He’d led the charge against the raiding party they’d finally located two days into their mission, and his men were hailing him a hero for his actions. They told him he’d saved countless lives that day, but he hardly remembered any of it, having finally succumbed to an arrow to his side; the same one that pained him so at the moment.
“How far…?” he questioned after choking down another swallow of water.
The Sergeant glanced toward the horizon, his eyes squinting in thought before looking back at his wounded Captain. “At the rate we’re goin’, about two more days, I reckon.”
Closing his eyes, Jasper let that sink in before grabbing his Sergeant’s arm to get his attention. The man leaned down. “Yes sir, Captain?”
“Breast pocket…”
The Sergeant reached in and withdrew a vial which he eyed with a curious frown. “This what ya wanted me to get, Cap?”
Jasper nodded, blinking against the sweat that ran into his eyes. “Yes.”
“What’s it for?”
Jasper’s grip tightened on the man’s arm. “If I—if I get worse…make me drink it.”
The man blinked and Jasper’s fist tightened on his sleeve, his teeth gritting against the pain before continuing. “That’s an order, Sergeant.”
The Sergeant nodded. “Yes sir, Captain. I’ll see to it.”
“Good,” Jasper muttered before relaxing his hold, his hand dropping back to the litter. “Now let’s move out,” he muttered as blessed oblivion took him once again.
~o0o~
Bella was rushing down the boardwalk on her way home, her eyes blurred with tears of hurt and anger when she heard her name called out in cheerful greeting from several yards behind her. “Afternoon, Miss Isabella!”
Turning her head, she’d just spotted a smiling Charles who looked proud as a peacock as he escorted Emily on his arm while carrying a basket with the other. They’d obviously enjoyed a picnic in the park.
She smiled at seeing the two looking so happy and had just turned to greet them properly when the look on Charles’s face turned to horror.
The thought of why that would be had just entered her mind when she felt a blow to the back of her head and her legs folded. She wasn’t completely knocked out, but she was stunned enough to be useless for moments as spots swam in a sickening swirl before her eyes.
“Miss Isabella!” she heard Charles yell as she was hastily dragged into an alley. She then felt her body being lifted and carried at a run before being dumped somewhere and covered.
Her mind whirled as she felt something jolt and then she could make out the sounds of galloping hooves and wagon wheels. ‘Wagon,’ she thought. ‘I’m in the back of a wagon…’
“She’s still a’movin’, Braniff,” she heard an unfamiliar voice speak above the din of their escape.
“Well then, hit her again,” another voice, this one all too familiar, growled. “Just don’t kill the bitch. I like them breathing when I fuck them.”
Cold dread filled her and she kicked and struggled to gain coherence but before she could, she felt another, heavier strike on her temple, and in despair, with Jasper’s name on her lips, she slipped into darkness.
~o0o~
Katherine’s lips curled into a smile as she felt Damon slide back into bed, his hands traveling over her shoulder and down her side to her hip as his lips placed kisses on her neck. “Ummm, welcome back,” she breathed while pushing her ass back against his hardening length.
She turned in his arms and pulled him into a long, languid kiss before drawing away to see his face. “Have a good visit?”
“It was fine,” he said noncommittally as he leaned back against the pillows.
She trailed a manicured finger over his chest. “What did she want?”
“I’d rather not get into that with you.”
She pouted and eyed him speculatively. “Why not?” She sat up and faced him. “Why can’t I know your daughter, Damon? Why do you always insist we stay separate?” She cupped his cheek and ran a thumb over his bottom lip, her tone simpering as she continued. “I love you and I’d like to be involved in every area of your life, including your daughter and grandson.”
“No.”
Her breath caught and she whimpered as he pinned her on her back, her hands locked in one of his above her head. “You take what I give you, or you get nothing at all, you hear?”
With her chest now heaving in excitement, she bit her lip and nodded, the look in his arctic-blue eyes and his commanding presence doing something to her—reaching a place inside—that no man had ever stirred within her before.
“Yes,” she nodded. “I understand.”
A cry of absolute ecstasy was ripped from her when she felt him enter her, his assault bordering on brutal as he took her, her body arching to meet him with every thrust of his cock as he grit his teeth and grunted.
“Oh god above…Damon!” she screamed, her hands clutching his shoulders, sharp nails digging into his flesh as he slammed himself into her relentlessly.
“Who do you belong to, Katherine?” he asked while reaching up to yank her head back by her hair.
She cried out sharply, her head tipped back and body jolting from his brutal strokes. She’d never submitted to any man…never in all her many years on this earth but as she stared into his icy gaze while he was owning her body so completely, she couldn’t deny it.
Not any longer, anyway.
“You Damon,” she admitted, the sincerity in her eyes undeniable. “I belong to you…”
And it was at that moment—when he mastered her heart, body and soul—that she knew her words to be true.
His shout when he finally came was triumphant, the look in his eyes…chilling.
And Katherine Pierce, for the first time ever, knew fright.
DISCLAIMER: Twilight and its inclusive material is copyright to Stephenie Meyer. Original creation, including but not limited to plot and characters, is copyright to the respective authors of each story. No copyright infringement is intended.