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Author: B. A. Stretke

Category: LGBT

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  Liam nodded at first and then spoke. “I thought you’d dance around the subject for a while. You’ve been vague in the past, and I thought you would continue to be.”

  “No point in being careful now you obviously have been informed. Was it Celeste who came to you?” Arman wanted to know what garbage Celeste had spread.

  “I don’t know her name, but it was the same woman from the terrace last night and from my dream. After you left, she visited me in the study; she said, you need my life to bring power back to yours. She said that you would drain me. You’re declining, and your magic is fading, and you need me to survive. She told me to run before it was too late.” Liam didn’t look, scared rather sad, and that hurt more than fear.

  “Celeste is a witch, a very old witch, and I don’t mean that derogatorily. Rather that is her profession. She’s been hanging around the periphery of the Grande Belle for a few decades now waiting.” Arman was going to share all, no secrets.

  “Waiting for what?”

  “For me to die.” That brought a look of concern that was pleasing. “I’m Arman Rainier; I didn’t inherit the Grande Belle; I built the Grande Belle, and I’ve lived here for four hundred years. Unfortunately, vampires can only exist for so long without their beloved by their side before they begin to fade, as Celeste put it.” He explained what a beloved was and the importance they hold in the life of every vampire. “I can’t continue without my beloved.”

  “Why is she waiting for you to die?” Liam tentatively reached out for Arman and then changed his mind and withdrew his hand back onto his lap. Arman would have loved the contact.

  “She wants my magic; it’s powerful, and when added to hers will make her something truly to be feared. When I pass, my magic will be released and can be absorbed by another practitioner.”

  “If your magic is so powerful, why don’t you cast a spell and bring your beloved to you. Why just wait for death?”

  “It’s not that easy. Fate determines who finds their bonded one and who doesn’t. Not all are blessed with a beloved. It is in Fate’s hands.” Arman laid his hand on the table, asking for Liam’s. Liam hesitated for a second before placing his hand in Arman’s. The contact, as always, was revitalizing. “Celeste is trying to scare you away because you threaten her and her ability to obtain my magic.”

  “How, how could I be any threat to her?” Arman held Liam’s hand, stroking the palm as he held his gaze, letting his eyes shift and shimmer in the candlelight. Understanding bloomed slowly in the expression on Liam’s face.

  “It’s me?” He asked.

  “Yes, Liam, you are my beloved. Fate sent you here. This house has been cloaked in magic for over a century. No one can see it, yet you did. You saw the light, and you followed it through the wind and the night, bringing you right to my doorstep. I knew you the second that I touched your hand. Did you feel it too?” Arman continued to stroke Liam’s palm.

  “I don’t know what I felt,” Liam stated haltingly.

  “I cannot force you to bond with me and would not even if I could. A vampire bond must be agreed upon; I cannot take what you will not give.” Arman continued with the facts.

  “Do you need the bond to survive?” Liam went right to the heart.

  “I want my beloved just as every vampire has a desire to bond with their life’s love. I will not force you if you chose to stay with me and bond with me. It will be of your own free will.” He knew he was overwhelming Liam, but it was necessary to put it all out for him to process. Piecemealing the process would not do. Liam needed all the information.

  “You are my destiny, Liam.”

  …

  Arman was answering everything he asked and doing it in complete truthfulness. Liam was being blown away with the truth that was being given. He had his suspicions but had held onto the hope that that’s all they were. The biting was a dead giveaway, as were the eyes that changed color and the fangs that were visible from time to time when Arman was excited. It all painted the picture that was being held to him now.

  What he hadn’t considered was his place in this. The weight he felt right now between his desire to run, and his desire to stay was pulling him apart. Fear was not the issue surprising enough; it was the loss of independence, the loss of control. It was not knowing what to expect that was taunting him. “She called you the Vampire King.”

  “In my day, I ruled the Vampire world, and I was known as the Vampire King, but here at Grande Belle, I was Arman Rainier, Master Vampire. I have lived many lifetimes, and I will gladly tell you all that you ask, but for now, the moment is here and now. It’s you and me and our destiny.” Liam was feeling anxious but also confused. He didn’t know what he wanted or what he should do. “We belong together, my love, it’s natural, and it’s right.” Arman pressed as a blast sounded behind them, blowing the glass from the floor to ceiling windows.

  Arman dove across the table and shielded Liam from the massive rain of glass that came down upon them. Liam felt his weight upon him as the room exploded in activity as Arman pushed him under the massive oak table and joined Russell in defending their home against a group of beasts. They looked half wolf and half man as they swiped and lunged at Arman and Russell, who went at them with a sword in one hand and what looked like a dagger in the other. It was all very medieval.

  Liam didn’t know what he was watching, but it was ferocious, visceral and the fighting was a bloody mess. He shut down all the information Arman had laid upon him and focused on the fight. This meeting of monsters was something of nightmares and movie theaters. But it was real; he felt the glass that lay around him, smelled the blood that poured from the beasts, and watched as Arman and Russell destroyed them all and threw them back out into the night.

  When finished, Arman stood in the open window frame and said some words in French. He stepped back, and the window repaired itself. The wind was silenced, and the night was shut out. The room fell into a deafening quiet.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Arman reached beneath the table and took Liam’s hand, helping him to his feet. “Was that Celeste?” Liam asked. Arman wanted to pull Liam into his arms and assure him that nothing would ever happen to him while Arman still breathed. Liam was his responsibility, love, and beloved, and he would protect him with his life. But the look on his face was stricken too much too soon, and he could see and feel that Liam was shutting down.

  “Her guards, they are beasts from the shadowlands.” Celeste need not have sent her foul guard to attack, for their bond had already begun to crumble before they entered the room. All she need do was wait, and it would all be over soon. The connection was thinning. He could feel the distance spreading quickly between them.

  He desperately wanted to grab Liam and run, but that wasn’t the plan. Liam had to agree and accept Arman or walk away, and it didn’t look good for Arman. He stepped back as Liam raced from the room without sparing anyone a glance.

  “She’s growing braver, although obviously not willing to face you on her own, yet.” Russell began clearing the area, and Arman gave him a hand. “She thinks that she has won.”

  “She may have,” Arman admitted with pain. The thought of dying fading from existence was secondary to the thought of losing his beloved. He ached at the idea that he would never again hold Liam close or give him pleasure. He would never again wake to the warmth of Liam in his arms. One night and Liam owned him, heart and soul. “I’m losing him, Russell. I had one chance, and I failed.”

  “Let him calm down and then go to him and explain,” Russell suggested.

  “There is nothing left to explain. It’s up to him now to either stay or go.” Arman walked out of the room and headed for the conservatory. He needed time to think among his plants and flowers. He walked in and sat down, taking in their beauty and innocence. They reminded him so much of his beloved.

  Liam Gabriel, the only light in his life for the past century, was about the leave. He’d handled it badly right from the beginning, and now he was going
to pay the price. He should have been more sensitive and understanding of his beloved’s position and grasp on the supernatural.

  Liam’s heart was there and on point, ready to submit, but his belief was lacking. His brain couldn’t push through to see beyond the natural. The moment he shut down, Arman’s heart cried out, but there was no one there to hear it. He could force and make him stay and, in the end, earn his hatred and be despised. That was no life to live. He would prefer to fade away than live a half-life.

  He loved Liam just as Fate had planned, and he had no difficulty admitting that fact, but his love was not enough. Liam cared for him and desired him, but love was not forthcoming. There hadn’t been time to foster and grow that particular emotion.

  Humans were a precarious species easy to offend and upset and difficult to tame. They had minds of their own and a tendency to overthink. He loved humans, they were interesting and difficult, and as lovers, they were the most passionate. Liam was a perfect gift, a perfect match, and now it was over.

  He leaned back in his chair and stared out the window into the night. Esmee brought him a brandy, and he drank it slowly as the night wore on and the power of his heart waned. It wouldn’t be too long before he went the way of the wind, the way of his father and grandfather. It was natural and necessary, but he’d had such hope. Twenty-four hours of pure delight with a future at hand, and then nothing and darkness would be his end.

  …

  Liam had half expected Arman to come to him and try and convince him to stay, but he didn’t. After the battle in the dining room, the blood and the violence and mayhem, Liam had run to his room. He had panicked and needed to get away. The beasts that had burst through the windows were gruesome. If Celeste had such things at her beck and call, he feared what else she was capable of. He wanted to leave, but it was late. He planned to stay awake, not able to relax at this point, and leave at first dawn.

  It was after two in the morning when someone knocked on his door. Liam was hesitant at first. If it was Arman, what would he say? The conflicting feelings he was suffering were still swirling in his head. He walked over to the door and opened it and was surprised to see Russell standing there in his suit and looking just as sharp and put together as he had at dinner before the battle to the death had occurred.

  “May I come in.” He asked.

  “Okay.” Liam wasn’t sure what he wanted, but considering the man had spared few words in his direction since his arrival, he doubted it would be a long conversation. Liam walked over to the bed and sat on the edge. He didn’t know if that was bad manners or not, but he was too tired to care right now. Russell followed and stood in front of him a few feet away and spoke very clearly.

  “Are you planning to leave?” he asked.

  “Yes, in the morning. There is nothing for me here.” Liam said the words, but he didn’t believe them.

  “There is everything for you here.” Russell countered. “Arman has waited eight-hundred years for you to arrive and you give him but twenty-four hours before running away.” That was a direct blow, and Liam felt it as guilt was planted.

  “I’m not what he needs.”

  “You are the only thing he needs. Look to your heart and open your mind. This is your home. It has always been your home. You found your way here in a storm in the dead of night to a home that has been hidden for centuries. This is where you belong, Liam.” Russell let out a deep rumbling sigh, and Liam looked up at him, seeing that he was frustrated and something else was there too. It looked like sorrow.

  “You care for him; it is present in your eyes whenever you look at him. You know that there is a bond between you and that you are his beloved don’t deny him, don’t run away. Stay and talk to him.” Russell finished and waited for a solid minute before turning away towards the door. Liam had nothing to say. His heart was now in the same turmoil as his mind.

  “I have to go.” He said to Russell’s back as he left the room and closed the door. Now he felt like shit pulled in so many directions and fearing that he didn’t fully understand anything that was happening.

  Liam pulled out his phone and brought up the pictures of the golden iris, and studied the photos. This was what brought him to the marsh and the lake and led him to this house. It was a flower, and now the iris was the furthest thing from his concern. His life was shaken to the core, and his reality had been challenged, and here he sat staring at a photo that suddenly had no meaning anymore.

  At dawn, he went downstairs and left by the front door. He didn’t see Arman or Russell or even Esmee. Liam stepped outside and saw his small compact car sitting where he’d parked it looking no worse for the wear. He stopped and looked back at the mansion. It looked brighter, less desolate than it had when he arrived. Perhaps it was the sunlight that was making it seem so warm and approachable.

  He shut down his thoughts and got into his car, starting it and quickly turning around in the drive. He was at the gate when he stopped and looked back over his shoulder. The house was much larger than it had appeared that first night. The shutters were all in place, and no windows were broken. It looked alive; it looked like a home.

  Liam put his eyes back on the road and headed back the way he’d come figuring he would meet up with the highway in a few miles. Thoughts of Arman and their time together hung heavy in his mind.

  …

  “He’s gone,” Esmee stated as she came to stand next to Arman. He hadn’t left the conservatory remaining in the chair staring out at nothing.

  “I know I felt it the moment he stepped out the door. His distance is growing, and the life he breathed back into this place and back into me will begin to fade soon.” Arman was feeling a desolation that had never touched him before. He wondered if it wouldn’t have been better to have never met Liam than to meet him and lose him. The pain went deep, and the abandoned hope was pure anguish.

  “She’s coming closer; her bravado knows no limit.” Esmee sneered.

  “She won’t approach until I’m gone. She still fears my magic. Even as weak as it is, it’s still greater than hers. You and Russell should go before she takes over; I don’t want to have to worry about you.” Arman didn’t want them caught in the crossfire or to suffer Celeste’s cruelty once she has taken possession of his magic.

  “I thought he would stay; I really did.” She commented sadly.

  “So did I, Esmee, but we asked too much of him.” Arman did not blame Liam, he was disheartened, but he understood why Liam fled.

  …

  Esmee exited the conservatory and met Russell in the outer room. They’d been there all night keeping an eye on Arman. “He’s giving up.” She said, discouraged and saddened by the outcome of events.

  “There is nothing left for us to do. Liam Gabriel has left the house and grounds, and even if he does return, it will likely be too late. Celeste is gathering her forces, and she’ll be taking over.” Russell shook his head in disgust. “The paranormal world will never be the same. Arman should have killed her when he had the chance, but she hides from him now, waiting to swoop in and pick his bones once he has fallen. She’s a scavenger nothing but a dirty scavenger.”

  “This isn’t how I saw it working out,” Esmee told him thoughtfully.

  “Your powers of sight are fading just as everything in this existence is fading. You had hope that was all.” Russell stated, but Esmee shook her head, not accepting the explanation.

  “There’s still something that I can do.” She offered, but Russell did not respond, for he saw no way forward.

  …

  Liam made his way through the dense wood and back to the wider dirt road that would lead him to the highway. Every mile he drove, he felt a tightening in his gut, feeling both anxious and upsetting. Finally, he pulled to the side of the road and stopped; he had to think.

  His hands were shaking, and tears had begun to form in his eyes. He didn’t want to leave. Arman had never harmed him or put demands upon him. He cared, protected, and beseeched. His time at
the Grande Belle was made perfect by his company and his patience. Arman had not pushed. It was Liam who pushed and demanded, then cried and ran.

  He was afraid of change, of facing something outside his belief. Although he made the claim of believing in magic it scared him when the truth of it was made real to him. He was a phony with broadminded words but with a narrow acceptance when it came to backing up those words.

  Being away from the house, away from Arman, was causing him actual pain. It started in his head with a throb and then raced down his spine, sending a burning dread throughout his body. A numbness was beginning in his extremities, and all he wanted to do now was cry.

  His eyes began to blur, and he held tight to the steering wheel grounding himself in the natural as something took over his vision. He saw the mansion. He was flying above and then swooping down to ground level. It was bright and airy looking but with a dark crawling mist that approached from the woods. It made its way across the lawn towards the doors and windows, darkening everything in its path.

  He was inside now, the interior blanketed in shadows. He moved down the hall towards the conservatory. It was broken and dying; nothing lived in that room. He moved forward, feeling a draw to the center of the room. On the floor lay Arman a white mist hovering just above him slowly lowering and completely encompassing his body. Liam watched in tense horror as Arman began to disappear, and the mist grew solid, turning into a grotesque human form.

  “Get away from him.” He screamed and tried to stop it, but he couldn’t move. He was frozen in place, condemned to watch as the love of his life was taken from him.

  “You’re too late, boy. He is no more; I am ruler now.” She rose up with a roar and made a move towards him, and in that moment, Liam was awakened. His heart was racing, and he couldn’t catch his breath as he released the death grip he held on the steering wheel.

 

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