The Seven Undeadly Sins: A Vampire Story

Part 1

England 1895

The sky above melted from gold to blue to black in a matter of moments, the stars appearing slowly like little bursts of color through the darkness. The nightly breeze shifted the leaves of the trees with a rushed angry movement, nothing peaceful about it. The branches tapped against the window of the old brick house. A storm was coming, she could feel it.

Afraid of the impending darkness, she lights as many candles as she can find in the hopes of beating her fear before it arrives. She's fussing with the smoldering embers of the dying fire when there is a knock on the door.

The outside lights up with a silent strike of lightning.

"Come in," she whispers into the empty room, her dark eyes still locked on the only window in the room.

The creek of the door scares her more than the thought of more lightning.

"What are you doing in here?" a low male voice asked.

"I cannot sleep in a room without windows. Hearing all the sounds from outside but being unable to see them makes me uneasy. I thought I would sleep in the parlor. . ."

"Are you afraid of the dark?" the man asked, his voice much closer than before.

It takes a great deal of effort for her not to startle.

"What are you doing here?" she asks, ignoring his question entirely for one of her own.

"I'm here to see you," his voice is just behind her left ear. He's close enough that she can feel the heat of his body behind her.

She moves her head to her left side, his profile barely in her view.

He brings his hand up to the small of her back, feeling the soft silk of her nightgown between his fingers.

"I'll ask you again," he breathes into her ear, "are you afraid of the dark?"

Something about this was familiar.

When the man arrived yesterday, she knew something about him seemed different than all of the other men she had made an acquaintance. The large carriage he stepped off of, the one with gold finishings and dark blue velvet drapes, seemed too grand for a man with no title and no noble family. It was something in his eyes. The darkest shade of brown that they appeared almost black. While his smile was bright, his eyes lacked something but she just couldn't put her finger on it.

When he stepped out of his carriage with the man he called his brother, he reached his hand out and took hers placing a kiss upon her stark white glove.

"I'm Aleksander Bronwen, and this is my brother Giedion, we've come to make the acquaintance with the Lady Creswell."

He was handsome, they both were, that she could not deny. But they did not look like brothers. Where one was fair-skinned and fair-haired, the other's hair was almost black and his skin a tan of someone who spends many hours outside enjoying the sunshine.

"I'm Teresa Hart, Lady Creswell is my mother's old employer. She's off headed to London to see an old friend. She should be returning sometime this week, although I do not know when."

Giedion's face puckered with the knowledge that the Lady is not home, but Aleksander smiled.

"I'm afraid we must wait for the Lady to return, would you mind the trouble of two young men for a few nights?"

She blushed, "If it is Lady Creswell you are here to see, then in her house you must stay. There are plenty of rooms, I'm sure the staff would not mind two more mouths to feed."

Aleksander stepped closer, "And you," he paused, "would you mind, Teresa?"

"You may call me Tessa." She replied, the pink in her cheeks reaching the tops of her ears.

"Tessa," he said. As if mulling the name aloud.

"Well, thank you for your hospitality. We shall get settled before the rain sets in." Giedion said, his voice much sweeter than his brothers.

But it was Aleksander's voice that was whispering sweetly to her now. Asking her if she's afraid of the dark like she's a small child.

She was afraid of the dark, but he seemed to already know that. 

Tessa turns to face him, his face so new but so familiar all at once.

"Have we met before?" she asks with a voice so quiet it's almost drowned out by the pattering of the rain only a wall away.

"Yes," he whispers just as quietly, "many times."

They face each other fully now, eyes locked. One pair brown the other the lightest color of green.

"I do not remember," she breathes, their lips so close they almost touch.

"You never do," he says with so much sadness in his voice.

The wind and the rain pick up, hitting the window with sharp taps. The shutters outside banging in the breeze.

"I wish I did," she replies just as sadly.

"I know," he brings his hand up to brush the side of her cheek, a caress so heartbreakingly soft and slow.

"Aleksander . . ." she whispers against his lips.

"Tessa," he says and brings their lips together.

The kiss feels so foreign and yet like coming home, a frighteningly delicious feeling.

They kiss with such fervor and joy as another strike of lightning alights the room.

As they break apart, Tessa asks with tears in her eyes, "How come you remember and I cannot?"

Aleksander smiles at her sadly, "It is the curse. I am to always remember, every kiss every touch every life. And you are to forget and to see it all anew each time."

A tear drips down her cheek landing on his hand that still cups her face.

"I want to remember."

"I know," he replies as he wipes her tears away. "But this is how it has to be, how it always has been."

He holds her head in his hands and brings his lips to her neck, kissing softly up and down her pulse.

"Aleksander," she whispers in desire.

He kisses her again and then sinks his teeth into her neck.

Tessa cries out in fear as the thunder finally cracks in the sky.