A Foreboding Allure

Chapter 3 - Part II

--Notes From The Author-- Heyy everyone! I know it's been awhile since I last updated but I have for you a bit more of chapter three. =] In this section you're introduced to Dante. I hope you enjoy this bit of the story. Please comment, vote, or even become a fan if you're feeling extra loving. Also, if you're looking for someone to edit your story, check out my mini-blog (it's another story group) and read that post if your interested.

As always, thanks for reading, you guys are truly awesome! =]

xoxo,

J.

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--Liana's POV continued--

His sarcastic kindness made my blood rise to the boiling point. Did they all really think I was stupid? I wasn't going to make the same trusting mistake I'd made with Nadia and it disgusted me that they thought otherwise.

I stepped inside what I assumed was Antoine's room. White. Everything was white. The sheets, the canopy, the carpet, the walls. Even the massive chandelier and its candles seemed to glow white, making the room unbelievably bright. There was no decor in the room, and everything was spotless. The bed was made and creaseless and the pillows perfectly fluffed. Antoine shut the door behind us and watched me marvel the room.

"I've always been fascinated by the color white." he said slowly. "A color including all colors, rather than being absent of them like black. The color of purity..." Antoine slid next to me and planted a kiss on the pulse point below my jaw. "Innocence." His black eyes looked lighter, less demonic in the lighting. Something about this room made everything seem...acceptable. I felt calm and interested in my captor so I looked at him, looked deeply in his eyes, his soul. I could've stared at him for hours and never know it was any more than a few seconds. His face held so many secrets, so much knowledge, so many emotions. Suddenly his eyes turned dark again and in a swift moment, his lips were at my neck, just above my collar bone. A sharp pain, like a burn, ripped through my body followed immediately by an icy numbness. I felt a tickle and brought my hand to my chest, a hot substance was trickling down my body. I brought my hand up and stared at it, it was blood. My blood. The edges of my vision went cloudy and I didn't try to keep myself lucid. I allowed myself to slide into the darkness.

--Dante's POV-

I hadn't missed any of this. I hadn't missed my overly proud parents, this dull house that always reeked with fear. I hadn't missed the stone corridors that echoed, lonely, with every step. No, what I missed was Rome. There were people everywhere, lots of wine, beautiful women who were so eager to please. I had wanted to stay, but Antoine insisted it was time to return. He wouldn't leave without me, he said. Mother and Father would have been very upset. They watched us like hawks. Something about "protecting the legacy". I have never been sure if they meant the legacy of the company, the wine. Or the legacy of our darkness. The darkness that had filled our souls for centuries, and the souls of those who lived in this house before us.

My return to the mansion would have been slightly pleasant had my parents not, once again, chosen my brother over me. After everything I'd done for the company, contracting buyers, maintaining production, mother and father saw it fit to my brother a welcome home gift instead of me. Young blood was rare for us. Especially young, female blood. Children these days were getting more and more cautious and it had been almost two decades since we had received a female slave and even then she had not been around long. I can clearly hear the sound of the girl's neck snapping and her falling to the floor in a pool of her own blood. Antoine had gotten into an argument with our father over business and had lost his temper with the slave when she tried to seduce him.

That's really the only reason we had slaves, young ones at least. We had old women, half dark and half human, who took care of the cleaning and household chores. The young ones, of both sexes, are those my mother had taken under her wing and then turned on. Lost, lonely souls who happened to stumbled onto our steps. They were our life source. Blood and sex. Blood mostly, sex when we were feeling generous. The old women, the halvsies, sustained us when nothing else was available as they can sustain mass amounts of blood loss without any side effects. But the blood of a human only a few decades old was like sugar. They're vulnerable at that age and the venom from our fangs sometimes makes them crazy. They become extremely dedicated to our family and no longer fear us or long to run away. It changes the chemistry of their blood and hormones. Sooner or later, though, we get bored of our little friends and they disappear. Lucca, the male servant of my sister, has lasted the longest. From what I hear he hasn't changed since the moment he arrived, which is probably why he's still around. I think we like thrill of holding someone against their will. Once they become like little dogs, following us around, it's not fun anymore.

Not that I would know, and as long as Antoine is around, I will never know. I would have loved to taste the blood of the little orphan girl. Seventeen, my mother told me. A tender, feisty age. And she was a beauty. Perfect figure. Flowing hair. A scent that would drive any man, mortal or otherwise, to his edge.

I walked the hallways, my thoughts darkening my mood with every second. I opened the oak doors to the library and slumped in to the nearest leather chair. The library smelled musty. I guess no one had entered since our departure for Rome. The library was my solace. I didn't really read, but I went for the peace. I didn't have to worry about women, parents or brothers when I was here. I relaxed a little, letting my thoughts drain out so there was finally complete silence.

I jumped as the double doors swung open with immense force, causing several months worth of dust to rise from the surfaces and fill the air like smoke. "Little brother, you would not believe what a high that girl is. I've never had anything like that. I could barely stop myself." Antoine announcing plopping into the chair beside me. Of course he would brag, of course.

"Well I'm glad you enjoyed her. Now, if you don't mind..." I replied nonchalantly. I wasn't in the mood for this.

"Now, now, Dante. You and I were in Rome together for a year and I barely got to spend any time with you and now that we're back you just want to be a lone again. This is why our parents trust me with everything. You never seem to care about this family." Antoine said with a mock concern. "I know I can be a bit, self inclined, which is why I'm going to give you a gift in hopes that we can finally rebuild our brotherly bond." He paused, searching my face for an expression. He found none but my blank stare, so he continued. "I know that you envy my gift from mother and father and you're dying to know whether the girls from St. Morganne are anything like those from Roma so I'll let you in the circle for a time." He paused once again; I was interested, but wasn't going to prove him right. "I'll let you have a night with the little slave girl. On your terms. You pick the night, and she's yours. Just don't break her up too much because I'll want her back. How does that sound little brother?"

I thought about it for a moment. He was going to want something after this, I knew that, but I yearned for the warm taste of young blood and her body was beyond perfection. So I gave him a nod in agreement and he left without another word.