If only Romaine could convert the sex moans she released earlier into cash, she would probably be richer that the Mullin family or even to the other billionaires worldwide.
Her pussy was swelling. Well, it had always been every time she made fondue with Dorrien. She was never wrong in choosing this man as her partner-in-crime, as her lover, and as her best friend. Visenna had been a good best friend to her. But, the only thing that distinguishes her and him is the fact that Dorrien had a long, fierce, fat dick.
She gave Dorrien one final glance. The lad is peacefully snoring now in his own apartment room, with just enough space and necessities he needed for everyday life.
She lay down again and slowly closed her eyes as her memories drifted back to the time they first met.
***
The road was very dark; as dark as the vision that began to blur in Romaine’s eyes.
“I’m lost…” She said, as if it wasn’t new to her. Romaine once admitted that she often gets lost as she’s not a good navigator in places.
She looked from left to right. It was only the faint light of the lamp posts situated on either side of the street. She was about to call Rozelyn, who was probably still banging her professor, when she saw an old man sitting on the front porch of a nearby house.
As she stood by the facade of the nearby house, she felt the place was oozing with darkness, gloominess, and eeriness. It was as if it hadn't been occupied for years.
Without a choice, she traversed towards the old man—who had closed his eyes and disregarded the approaching thunderstorm.
It began to rain. Apart from her own sweat and tears, the raindrops had wholly made Romaine wet.
She shouldn’t have gone trekking in the midst of Halloween night; especially since it is weekend tomorrow.
She reached the front step of the farmhouse-like abode of the old man. He was wearing clothes that seem to be worn by men during World War II, making Romaine Eastwood-Zadzisai utterly curious.
Suddenly, there was a young lad who came out from the barn situated at the right side of the house. “Bloody hell! It’s raining again, Mister.”
His accent is obviously not Irish. It seems it came from…from England. A Yorkshire accent to be exact, Romaine mused.
The lad shook the shoulders of the old man. But the aged old-man didn’t seem to even blink, not even move his foot. The lad kept on shaking until he decided to check the old man’s pulse by his neck.
The young man’s expression changed. Romaine could tell by her vampire senses that something is wrong. Something is definitely not right.
She approached the young man as she took a shade under the canopy of the front porch and asked, “He’s dead?”
The man looked at her from head to toe and briefly smiled, but eventually shifted back to a sorrowful face.
“Yes…maybe. I don’t know. He’d been joining weird groups lately. I even thought that he’s some kind of a Satanist or a Wiccan of sorts.” The lad’s tone was gloomy, as gloomy as the sky that began to blow cold winds. A lightning bolt strikes the nearby tree, startling the two of them.
“Perhaps we should go inside,” the lad stated.
“Thanks for the offer,” she replied quickly.
“I was not speaking to you. I’m speaking to the mister.”
Ouch. Well, that was awkward and rude. As far as Romaine knew, the English people are hospitable and welcoming. This lad seems to be utterly the opposite of those.
Romaine cleared her throat and asked, “May I come in too? I’ll just pay, don’t you worry.”
“Who are you to be our special guest?”
Before she could reply, the old man, who they thought was dead, suddenly opened his eyes. His pristine eyes directly looked at Romaine, and she too was shocked as the eyes were quite familiar. As if she had looked into those eyes before.
“I am Romaine Eastwood-Zadzisai. I am—”
“Eku’s mistress and now wife…” It was the mysterious old man who finished.
Romaine was dazed and, well, speechless. Speechless is the right word as no words could come out into her mouth, not even an ‘okay’.
“Ye-yes, we—I am Eku’s wife now.”
Romaine could hear the old man softly chuckled.
“There are really some people who were very lucky to find someone to replace a person that they once lost. Unlike me, who was forever abandoned by my wife and to never be seen again in the middle of night…not even her shadows,” the old man sorrowfully narrated.
Romaine could vividly feel the man’s gloom and misery amidst the fact that she was an Astral vampire and not an Empath.
The lad then beckoned him to come inside as another lightning struck their nearby mango tree, making him absolutely worried.
“I am Dorrien Ronan. I am just visiting my uncle here,” the lad then stretched out his hand to the auburn-haired Romaine.
She shook it and electricity suddenly spread over her body. It was a spark; she could feel it into her bones. It was an ember that had been lighted amidst the ocean of darkness. It was a signal to a blazing sensual romance that shall happen in the future.
***
The Lough was quiet. Rozelyn looked at her reflection and it reflected back as if it was just a vanity mirror. The water was very clear that she could transparently see the bottom of it—and beyond it.
“Let’s get started right away while the tide and weather is in favour with us,” Romaine said, making Rozelyn jerk her head towards her stepmother who was putting the bait into her fishing rod.
“Hmmm…” was all Rozelyn replied as her hand touched the surface of the water and eventually played with it with her water powers, forming it into a cat then hardening it into an ice as it fell and sunk into the bottom of the Lough.
She was still playing with the water when Romaine tapped her on her left shoulder and handed her the fishing rod.
She accepted it with two hands as a sign of respect. In such great respect, despite the fact that she’s a bit irritated because Cyrill was out of town attending a friend’s apparent accident.
“Why are we here again?” Rozelyn’s voice seemed to echo as the quietude was definitely deafening. It was so quiet that she could feel Mother Nature’s pure essence in her own bones and veins.
She missed this kind of environment; the silent whistling of the wind and the melody of the flowing water. This is life.
She stood and stretched out her arms in the air, feeling the serene atmosphere of Lough Erin. Her father used to tell her stories about how he and Visenna would often go to Lough Erin to have a nice, simple, and calm date.
Now she knows why her parents love this place so much.
“Hurry up, Rozelyn! Don’t wait for the sparrows to eat the bait in your hook, darling,” Romaine, who has already gone into fishing mode, said to her as she was feeling the slight cool breeze of this magnificent place.
Rozelyn sitted again. In a matter of seconds, she was now in an absolute fishing mode.
***
An hour has passed and her icebox happens to be halfway full of trouts, bass, and sturgeons.
‘Perfect for a charcoal grill later…’ Rozelyn thought.
Romaine cleared her throat. Rozelyn hoisted her gaze from the ice box and into Romaine—whose expressions seem to radiate a firm look.
“I suppose you’ve been wondering about my ancestry, Roz.”
To be frank, she doesn’t care. Why the hell would Rozelyn care about her stepmother’s ancestry? Unless it has something to do with the current mayhem in the vampire and werewolf world…and something to do about the identity of the freaking heartless Blood Mistress.
“I am the descendant of Erzsebet Bathory. Elizabeth Bathory as most people in the world pronounce her name.”
Then there was silence—complete deafening silence.
“You mean the infamous Blood Countess?” Finally, Rozelyn unfastened her mouth.
“Yes.”
“Wasn’t she a witch? I mean that’s what the history books say…”
The Blood Countess is a Romanian noble known as the most gruesome female serial killer. Well, that was what the internet says. But in reality, Erzsebet or Elizabeth is no serial killer. Serial killer is only a term for mortals. The Blood Countess is no fucking mortal—not even an inch of that.
“Yes…and no,” Romaine answered as she pulled her fishing rod, revealing a plump trout on her fishing hook.
Including the orchard, this was the second ‘mother-to-daughter’ talk Rozelyn had with Romaine. At least Romaine was giving justice to the title of being a stepmother, unlike other people in the corners of this planet.
“Is that all you wanna reveal to me or is this just a beginning?”
Romaine then looked her directly in the eye. Rozelyn already knew the answer to her own question by just a mere look at Romaine’s russet eyes.
“Tell me more, Romaine.”
And so she did.