It had been days since the apartment explosion and the departure of the mother and daughter she met at the orchard that were actually healers.
Not the modern definition of healers. But the ‘supernatural’ meaning of healers. Some say they are witches but a lot different than that of heathens or blood witches.
But these folks, the folks of Laara and Isla and Thalia, preferred to be called healers as it was more ‘pleasant’ to hear than being called a witch.
Well, Romaine supposed they do have a point then. For in the 21st century times, there may be no mob to burn a witch at stake but people will glare at you and gossip about you, marking you as a ‘devil-worshipper’ and subtly ostracizing you.
That’s the reality of this modern world. That is also why the creatures of the night—werewolves, vampires, all types of witches—prefer to just shut their mouth and cloak themselves within the mortal world. Pretty much a hard thing but Romaine and her company had managed to do it in years, centuries to be exact.
She had allied with the heathens. Not because she liked it, but because in order to hide her grave secret. A secret that will destroy the life she had built for years. A secret that will result in Rozelyn killing her if she ever unravelled that secret. A secret that no one knew; not for now.
But she was still with the coven and the pack. It was not betrayal she was doing—at least according to her definition of betrayal. But, as they say, keep your friends around you but make sure to keep your enemies closer. That is precisely what Romaine Eastwood Zadzisai had been doing, and will be doing.
She was strolling in this forest. This is the forest that she first taught Rozelyn on how to haunt. Mary’s Forest is what the locals call because of this being a virgin—just like the namesake of the forest who was a famous biblical figure, the Virgin Mary.
But for Romaine, it was pretty much a hideous name. And she prefers to call it as the ‘Virgin Forest’ rather than to what the people had used to call this forest.
The air was humid—bizarre for the fact that snow had begun to shower on the ground. She had been walking and stopping, walking and stopping for an hour already. Romaine is certainly eager to relieve her stress and alleviate all the worries that had been bombarding her mind.
Romaine is an extreme over-thinker, and she hates herself for being one. Rozelyn doesn’t know her status of being a double agent yet—and she will not allow that information to reach her stepdaughter, no matter what the cost is.
Rozelyn is very powerful, too powerful for one to contend and challenge. She first thought that she was an Elemental and it did not bother her as her fear of her being the prophesied one was wrong. But, as soon as she was unable to see through her mind during that musical concert of Cyrill, it made her a bit anxious and panicked and distressed. Rozelyn was indeed the prophesied one.
Knowing Rozelyn will casually peer into anyone’s mind like some sort of fashion magazine to just scan through, she will not allow her to enter or even glimpse on her mind—will not think of her two big secrets when she’s around with her.
Dorrien may probably know—probably not—that that much lesser grave secret is quite a threat to her but she will deal with her lover later. Yes, she loved him; but not as much as she loved Eku. Aside from the fact that Eku is no creature of the night, he is much more patient and unsuspecting compared to Dorrien. It was a good thing otherwise to let him pass early and carry his surname with her in order to let Rozelyn think the security of having a relative who holds the same surname as hers is an advantage to Romaine already. Rarely does one suspect a member of your family for treason because, first of all, he or she is a family. If not a blood of your blood, at least a name that both of you uphold.
Romaine reached a brook that is situated between leafless trees. She bends down to examine the water. It was cool, particles of ice were in it. Indeed, winter has come and is slowly freezing the body of water.
She drank from it. It was colder and cooler when the water reached in her tongue and down to her throat.
Romaine was about to drink the second time when she noticed that in the reflection of the water, a black-clothed man was standing across the brook. The same as the first time she saw him, he was still covered in black from head to toe—only his black hair remains uncovered.
She stood, unsheathing her vampire claws; ready to pounce at the man. But, when the all-black-clothed man removed his mask, she knew then what he wanted from her: the truth.
“Are you Romaine?” The man asked, gasping for breath as if it was the first time he just lifted his mask and allowed his bare face to be shone with sunlight.
“Hans Ryder. What a pleasure to meet you after these years,” Romaine remained calm, like the calm before the storm.
“Answer my question, bitch! Are you Romaine Eastwood?”
She shrugged, just shrugged. “Come here, then. If you really want to know that I am Romaine and not some sort of imposter, then come and touch me, Hans Ryder.”
Her voice was challenging, daring. This man seems to humiliate her for doubting if she, at some point, had always been Romaine.
She watched the man walk towards her, crossing the brook through the huge chunks of wet rocks on the surface.
Within a couple of minutes, he managed to come face to face with her. She smirked, a mocking smile nonetheless.
“You bitch!” Then Romaine was now on the ground after being punched by Hans Ryder.
She was panting; blood drooling from her nose.
“You are the reason why Eku passed early. Why my bestfriend passed early!” Another punch landed on her stomach. She spat on the snow-covered ground, ignoring the fact that she was a vampire.
She was a vampire. How the fuck could Romaine forget that?
When Hans was about to punch her again, she charged at him with her claws on his exposed face, earning her a whimper from him…and a chance to grab his exposed neck with her sharp claws.
Romaine lifted the poor Hans from the ground with one hand only. Blood fell like tears on the snow. Yet, he didn’t shed a tear. He still has that unyielding, stone-cold face.
“Very brave of you to confront an Astral Vampire huh?!”
“You are not a vampire. Because, first of all, you are not Romaine!”
Hans kicked him by the chest, unleashing him from her bloody grip.
“Where is Romaine?!” He was now shouting, yelling, demanding for answers.
“Who are you? I know you are not Romaine. So who the freak are you?!”
She just grinned—a wicked, victorious grin. “Just like your bestfriend, you will never know.”
Then Romaine struck from behind. Hans didn’t see that coming. That Romaine was just projecting an illusion of herself all along when, in fact, she was just waiting to lunge at him from behind.
Romaine tore away all the clothes covering him and beheld his bare skinned body.
He has a nice body though. He has six-pack abs and muscular arms. She wants to end his life, here and now.
But first, before she will drink his blood and leave him nothing but lifeless body, she will quench the other thing that vampires feed on, the other thing that they crave aside from blood: having sex.
***
Romaine bounced on top of him, repeatedly. Like some sort of a rhythmic song that has high and low notes, ups and downs. Her breasts are bouncing with her every moment on top of him. Romaine was definitely enjoying having sex with a powerless man like the one she’s fucking now.
She continued to stride into him with Hans’ mouth shut with her lace underwear. Romaine didn’t expect him to yield to her, to sexily moan for her. She didn’t wonder and even paid attention that the man beneath him kept on making disturbing, muffled noises, begging to be released. She could read in his mind that he keeps thinking of “Please don’t kill me! Just have sex with me but please do not kill me. I am not Hans Ryder. Please. Please. Please….”
Yet, Romaine didn’t heed him. Her claws dig deeper on her throat, tears streaming down from his face. Blood flowing from his exposed throat. But she keeps fucking him. Yes, she was sadistic. Brutal. Merciless. Lustful.
As she promised to herself, she will keep her secrets no matter the costs. No matter what the costs are.
Romaine was nearing climax when her vampiric sharp claws reached the very bone of his throat. Milky white substances flow from her and she unleashed a long, pleasured moan. As soon as she pulled out from him, she also pulled away her claws—and his flesh with it.
She watched the man take his last breath and stared at the ripped throat that she was holding. Romaine licked it clean; until no traces of blood left on it.
And after drying Hans and sucking all his blood, she cleaned herself with the help of the cool waters from the brook and bathed herself.
As she was dragging the remains of Hans Ryder to the lair of the wolves, she felt delighted. Because she at least has helped the white wolves have some food over the course of winter.
Romaine would not throw his carrion on the brook. Aside from the fact it was unpleasant, it will pollute the water—at least according to her realization.
She watched the wolves feasted on the man. A sweet, motherly smile then formed on her lips.
She fixed herself as she trekked back to where her car was parked when a man stood in front of her before she could even yield a step.
The man looked first at the eating wolves, then to her.
“Dorrien, what are you doing here?” Romaine breathed.
His lips meeting hers was his only answer.