Aphrodite

I sighed, letting my thoughts wander. Setting my pen down, my gaze slid to the Tiffany style banker’s lamp on the edge of my desk. My perfect vision seemed to falter as events of my life flashed into view. My life as Philyra Eileyah Duskdream, Huntress of Night. Miss Goody Two Shoes vampire/shape shifter hybrid. Little Miss Raven, one of the most hated people from my coven. No, scratch that. I was one of the favorites of the House of the Fallen Raven. The coven itself was hated.

Looking back, I’d like to laugh and kick myself.

I had been a newborn back then. Ignorance ran through my dead veins – quite literally. It’s a wonder my body doesn’t smell like a corpse: rotting and dead. Of course my heart still beats; my body isn’t dead.

Death.

That’s what being a creature of the night does to you. Death, blood, and destruction always floats somewhere deep in the back of your mind, drawing you in; seducing the senses.

My deep thinking was interrupted at the sound of my wolf, Shadow, barking. The sight of the Tiffany lamp came back crystal clear. On instinct, I swiveled around to face her, my body rigid, ready to attack at any given moment. I was tense having just lost my wife and two kids. More like, Lil Warrior ran off with Chanel and Jaymes because she couldn’t handle my having a master and husband.

Bisexuality among creatures of night is common. You’d be surprised to find out how many are gay or straight. Very few. So few, in fact, the only ones I know are my wife and husband. She’s gay and he’s straight.

I miss my little girl; my baby boy. Day after day I look at their pictures smiling up at me from their golden frames. Although they are over four hundred, they’re in the body of young teenagers. Being born from the womb of an undead creature – even half – stumps the growth. And not a little bit.

The dim light threw shadows dancing on the walls. My hazel eyes scanned the room in silence. Shadow looked at me thoughtfully; intelligently, as if that would ease my tension. My hand flew to my hip, grasping the gun that rested in the holster attached to my black khakis. Making no sound, I slinked to the door of the room, my heels clicking against the hardwood floor. With quick and fluid movements, I kicked the door open. No one and nothing was visible, and I wondered what on earth Shadow got so excited about. Finally I decided it was nothing, just my overactive imagination running wild, taking Shadow’s bark of alarm seriously.

Which, I hate to admit, is a part of my stupidity.

I’m not perfect. I never claimed to be. However for a being that has experienced bloodshed, war, hate, pain, and life in general, I was beyond imperfect. Vampires and vampyres are supposedly perfect. You are wondering why I said vampires and vampyres. Don’t lie; I can see it in your head. You believe they are the same. They are not. Some say ‘tis only the spelling, some say the species’ behavior and lifestyle are the differences. What are the real differences? Hell if I know. I only know enough to say they are different.

My body relaxed slightly. No boogie man popped out to get me, so I closed the door. Turning back to Shadow, I shot her a look. Jabbing my finger in her direction, I told her, "Don’t scare me like that." She gave me a look herself, seeming to apologize. The corner of my lip lifted in a smile. "It’s okay." My tone was gentler. Shadow was sensitive when it came to me. Sometimes I wondered why I didn’t call her Angel instead of Shadow.

I noticed Shadow’s ear twitch, and I heard a quiet tapping. My muscles froze. This time, someone was there, and I planned on getting them. There was no hesitation in the way that I slammed the door open and whipped out my gun. A long black strand of hair blew across my face. Holding my gun with one hand, my eyes roamed the bare hall leading to the main room. The familiar scent of live, flowing blood filled my nostrils, my mouth watering.

I sensed life. No sound came from me except the sharp tapping of my heels as I walked to the center of the hall. The closer I got, the louder the sound became. A shadow flashed in the corner of my eye, and my body automatically whirled around. The action hadn’t yet been processed to my brain when I shot, pulling the trigger. I heard a small whimper and a thud, but I did not move. The smell of burnt metal singed my nose, but the smell of spilt blood was stronger.

Tainted blood.

In less than a second I had reached the visitor. He was slumped over his leg, his shaggy brown hair falling in front of his face. Curiosity picked at the back of my mind. "Who are you?" My voice rang strong and clear to my ears. The man looked up at me, his eyes a clear ice blue. Agony was visible across his rugged features. Clearly he was human, and with that in mind, I felt my thirst grow with each increasing second. It seemed like forever before he answered.

"Who I am is none of your concern." His tone was as cold as his eyes. There was a slight accent, but I couldn’t place it; nor did I care. "I could ask the same of you."

My own hazel eyes examined him carefully; suspiciously. "I am Karina Night. It is my concern. I live here with my husband and wolf." At the mention of Shadow, he flinched. He must not like wolves too much, I concluded. I had to bite my tongue to keep from laughing. Although he was in obvious pain, his deep baritone voice was sharp.

"I don’t know, nor care who your husband is. As for your wolf, it doesn’t scare me." Now I really had to bite down on my tongue. I bit so hard to the point where I tasted blood. Humans amused me with their bravery mask. Behind that is always cowardice. A small smirk formed on his mouth as he studied me. I felt Shadow’s presence, but I did not turn. Nearing us, I suspected her black eyes glowing their usual purplish tint. A growling sound tore from her throat, filling the momentary silence. A smile spread on my face, my two inch long fangs revealing themselves.

The man gulped and looked at my teeth, unsure. Fear radiated from him. I could feel it. Before he had a chance to blink, I bent over his leg, licking the blood. When the site was clean, my fangs pierced his skin. As I drank, another whimper of pain escaped him. The warm blood down my throat was pure ecstasy. And I tasted exactly what I had smelled. It wasn’t evil, or even simple unkindness. It seemed more like regret.

That made it all the more tastier.

Once I was through, I wiped my mouth off and looked at Shadow. My head tipped in a nod, and I was out of the way. Shadow approached the dead man, and bit into his flesh, tearing a piece off. To a normal human, this would have been disgusting. However, I’m not normal, and even less a human. The sight of his bloody carcass thrilled me. A smile lit up my face as I watched the beautiful white of Shadow’s fur turn red.

The smile on my face remained and I heard the door open. My heart fluttered. Practically running, I met my husband at the door. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I reached up and kissed him. He held my waist and kissed me back before pulling away to look at me.

"Someone is happy to see me." He grinned, and I nuzzled him.

"Of course. Always." Spawn looked at me, and then he looked up at Shadow’s bloody fur. My gaze followed his and I saw Shadow had finished her meal. At least the guy’s body was disposed of properly. Definitely not as the newborns would, who decided leaving the rotting body out to stink was a good idea. My nose crinkled at the thought. That was not a pretty picture. I couldn’t help but giggle.

"The both of you had dinner and didn’t wait for me?" Spawn smiled mischievously, bending down and nibbling on my ear. "Looks like I’ll have you for dinner," he teased. Gently, I returned the bite, gnawing on his neck.

"Are you that hungry?" my voice came out in a purr. The back of his hand pressed me closer to his body. Leaning so his lips were against my ear, he whispered, "Always," repeating what I had just said. I have the ability to read minds. What I saw in his head would have made a prostitute gasp. My master has a very, creative mind. Since I am trying to keep this at a PG-13 rating, my lips are sealed.

A knock at the door startled me. Jumping back, I stared at the door, slowly walking up to it. I grabbed the knob and pulled it open to reveal my blood-sister, Angelique Vigée-Lebrun. Recently – actually, not so recently – Angelique changed her own looks. More for vanity than anything else. She used to have wavy strawberry blonde hair with light blonde highlights and black lowlights. With her black-as-night hair, she had exotic beauty. Her amethyst eyes added to her exoticness. Being the witch she is – literally – I suppose it isn’t difficult to appear the way you wish. Especially considering she is Dark Daughter of the Dark Circle.

Dark Circle is an organization of half witch vampires. Dark Daughter is female leader of the group. Supposedly, the witch goddess Adrasteia Selena marks the half witch whom she thinks should be leader. Dark Son is the male equivalent of Dark Daughter, although he doesn’t have as much power.

Hiding behind her was her husband of over five hundred years, Silas Black. Yes, you read right. Over five hundred years. I smiled as I grabbed hold of her.

"Angelique!" I felt her hug me by the waist. "What are you guys doing here?"

"We came to visit our sister, of course! Silas, get your cute behind over here." A burst of laughter escaped me as Angelique pulled her husband towards me. Silas chuckled. Taking hold of my own husband, I dragged him next to me.

"Come on in," I told them. Angelique and Silas walked in, following us. I closed the door first before going to the living room. My blood-sister was the only one standing. Before I could make it to the couch, she grabbed my arm and led me away from the guys as they merrily chatted. About us, no doubt. Shadow’s paws thudded quietly behind me, and I turned, whispering for her to stay.

When we were out of earshot, Angelique stopped. "Eil—" she began to say my old name. "Karina. We need to go hunt right now." Her gaze penetrated my hazel eyes. Calculation was visible on her face.

I looked at her with surprise. "This very minute? Why?"

"Someone followed me here. I think it might have been Viktem." A worried crease formed on her perfect forehead. My eyes grew wide at the sound of the name. Viktem wasn’t a name many vampires knew unless they encountered him face to face. However, he was known as the vamped version of Jack the Ripper. No, he doesn’t kill prostitutes. He kills vampire women. Same difference, right?

"And you think hunting will get rid of him if he followed you?" I asked he. Angelique rolled her eyes at me. Then she headed for the front door. Quickly I followed. Angelique walked silently in front of me, stopping all of a sudden at the entrance of the small forest. Her stance was that of an alert deer. Slowly, her arm raised, her finger pointing out a dark figure.

Warning bells went off in my head. My body vibrated, and feathers grew on me. Soon I had turned into a raven. Ironic, I know. Turning into the symbol of my ex-family was strange, especially since I couldn’t stand the majority of the members. What mattered now was Cacciatori della Notte; the family I had created.

I flew like a mad bird at Viktem. Yes, it was him. Not surprising at all. I was a flurry of feathers and pecking. Viktem flung his arms wildly around, trying unsuccessfully to beat me away. After he was done flailing his arms, he covered his head. When Viktem wasn’t looking, I transformed to normal. My knife was harnessed to my leg under my khakis, so I reached down and slipped it out. Before he could look up, I had the knife pressed against his neck. I felt his Adam’s apple rise and fall as he gulped in fear.

"Scream and I will slice your head off." I hissed. Viktem’s body tensed, and I saw a glimpse of fear flash in his mind.

"I’m not here to hurt you, Eileyah." The sound of my birth name made me freeze. No one except for a few people know who I was. The strange thing about it was, I had never even met the infamous Viktem. My question was, how did he know my birth name?

"What did you just call me?" My tone was poisonous. I gripped the front of his black shirt. Almost lifting him up off the ground. I pressed the knife harder against his skin. A small cut appeared on his throat, the strong scent of vampire blood hitting my nostrils. It wasn't pleasant at all.

"Eileyah." Surprising me, he took my hand and lowered it. He put his fingers to the cut, running them over the thin, red line as if it would break. His skin healed, and the smell of blood dissipated. "I know you are called Karina Night now. I know of your history and ruthless nature. I can sense the hatred burning deep inside you for the House of the Fallen Raven." I was surprised. Really and truly surprised this killer knew so much about me.

Stalker much!

Instead of answering, I threw the knife to the ground. "What do you want from me, Viktem?" I asked, my hazel eyes sparkling with curiosity. The sound of his name rolled off my tongue like a curse. His grin showed malice behind those large brown eyes. I hadn’t noticed until now how good-looking he was. He was a couple of inches taller than my five foot five inch height. His silky skin was the color of cinnamon, and his blackish brown hair slightly messed up, as if the wind had blown it. The black T-shirt he wore almost stuck to him like a second skin, his muscles beyond obvious.

"I’ve heard many stories about you, Eileyah." His slight Hispanic accent punctuated every word. Gritting my teeth, he laughed. "I so much like Eileyah better. Karina is so," he sighed, pausing. "Cold. You are much too hot for a name like that."

"Enough with the damn compliments! My name is Karina Night. Has been for about four hundred years. Call me Karina or Aphrodite. Not," I spat. "Eileyah." What infuriated me more was the chuckle he let out.

"Alright then, Karina. Fight me. I want to see just how good you really are." An impish smirk crossed his lips. A dangerous killer challenging a masochistic seductress one on one? This would be interesting.

"Fine. No weapons. No powers. Only our bodies." I replied. There was no way in hell would I use weapons against this guy. Viktem nodded his acceptance. I gave an evil smile. "Me first."

No sooner had the last letter been pronounced from my mouth, I pounced him. My fist balled up and hit him straight in the nose. There was a loud crack! and I heard Angelique gasp behind me. By the way his face scrunched, I guessed I had just broken his nose. Before I had a chance to deal another blow, he grabbed me and threw me against a tree. Dizziness overcame me as my head hit the trunk. "Aw, didn’t momma ever tell you not to hit girls?" I taunted, getting to my feet.

Speed and strength poured into my body and I launched myself at Viktem. When my body made contact with his, he was pushed backward with such force that it was hard to believe my small body did it. His brown eyes turned red with rage, and he came at me like a bullet. Unfortunately for him, I was too quick and I moved out of the way. I grinned.

"It’s going to take a lot for you to beat me, you know. I’ve lived through almost six hundred years of training. I may be skinny, but I’m sure as hell ain’t weak." My laugh was sadistic, and I didn’t see when he came at me again. When he knocked me to the ground, he punched, but I rolled out from under him. My leg shot out and hit him square between the legs. He whimpered in pain, grabbing at his crotch. I gave another laugh.

I think that did it. Next thing I knew, he ran towards me with a slight limp. His fist connected with my stomach and I fell back to the grassy forest floor. The wind was completely knocked out of me, and I saw stars for a minute. This guy was good. Hopefully not good enough, though. I jerked my leather jacket off of me and threw it to the ground. My red tank made my pale skin a bit rosy, and this seemed to startle him for just a moment. Quickly he regained his composure, and came after me. I jumped out of his way, and he nearly rammed into the tree. I couldn’t help but laugh. I ran to him, kicking his stomach and then ran up the tree, doing a back flip. Landing on my feet, I snarled at him, and he took out a pocketknife pointing it at me. "Hey!" I said. "I thought it was no weapons!" Viktem didn’t answer. The knife came flying straight at me, and I felt dread in the pit of my stomach, the sound of Angelique’s screams distant as though it were just a dream.