The Vampire's Curse

Prologue

Prologue

 

London, England 1989

 

The service had begun and the pallbearers where slowly walking into the church carrying the coffin.  The mourners followed in their wake.  Most of them had tears streaming down their faces.  Some of them could be heard sobbing.  Miranda O'Neil had been loved by so many, and her life had ended so suddenly.  No one even knew that she was sick.  To die of anemia at the age of 25, it was almost unheard of. 

The coffin now sat at the front of the church, and the mourners were now seated.  They waited for the service to begin.  Well, almost all the mourners were seated.  At the back of the church stood a lone man, hidden in the shadows; he wanted it that way.  No one would be able to see him anyway; he was glamoured to prevent anyone to know that he was there.  He should not even be there, since this was his fault.  She would not be dead if it were not for him. 

With a speed that no one saw he stood next to the coffin wondering how he could have done it again.  He looked down at her beautiful pale face, and realized he was the reason she was lying there again.  Her name was Miranda this time.  Her face was different, but it always was.  He would have known her anywhere though.  Only his true love, his soul mate would smell the way Miranda did.  As a vampire, Nikolai Kavanah, possessed super human strength and super human senses as well.  He can see what normal humans cannot see and he can smell what most humans cannot smell.  In this case he has always been able to smell her when she is near.  Only his true love emanates a scent like that.  It is not just the scent of her blood that he smells, but the essence of her being. 

When Nikolai met Miranda he knew who she was instantly.  The whirlwind romance that they shared had only lasted a week this time, before he took her life.  Would he ever be free of this curse?  Why must he always find her just to kill her time and time again?  She had tasted the same as always.  The nectar of the gods is the only way to describe her taste.  Nikolai should have known better than to take a taste, one taste of her, his beloved, no matter her form, and he was always lost.  He could never be satisfied with one taste.  It always led to this, her death.  Nikolai made a silent promise to himself that the next time he found her, he would walk away.  But he knew he was lying, he could no more walk away from her than he could refrain from killing her.  Damn that curse.