Do Mine Eyes Deceive Me...A Gorgeous Sadistic Vampire?

I was in a very comfortable position at the moment. Harrison was laying down on his bed, with his back propped up against the backboard, and his hands behind his head. Whereas I was sitting most delicately (ha!) on his lap with my knees on either side of his waist.

"I realize you have a lot of questions that have gone unanswered for too long," he began as I ran my hands up and down his bare chest. oh, that's right. We'd decided to strip down to our underwear in the process, too. We just wanted this to be intimate. And I was certainly not complaining. You should see the chest on my boyfriend.

"You could say that," I agreed, but not unkindly or in a snobbish way. I just wanted to let him know that this was a bit overdue.

"Well, I guess . . . you start. What's your first question?" he asked in a tight voice. I could tell this was hard for him. He wasn't used to opening up to anyone. And I appreciated more than he knew that I was the one he was willing to share his life with.

"Let's see," I thought way back to when I first met Harrison. I pawed through vague memories of the time I spent with him while still fully humane. I remembered when he bit me, and some time after that, he told me that my blood had smelled particularly delectable to him. It had been like a fragrance created personally for him, and he couldn't bare to stay away. "I asked you this once before, but it was a while back. Right after my transmutation, I think. Why did my blood appeal so greatly to you, personally?"

He took a sharp intake of breath and then blew it out slowly. "I was hoping you wouldn't ask me this one first. The reason I didn't tell you about it the first time you asked me was because I didn't want to scare you off. It was kind of daunting, even for me to think about. You see, Joanalie, when one person's (usually mortal) blood is so addictingly delicious to another immortal, it means that they were made that way. It means that those two beings were made for each other. It means they're soul mates."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. All this time, when Harrison and I had been working so hard to make us work, we could have just let things happen, because we were meant to be together anyways? " . . . You mean you . . . and I; we're soul mates?" I asked.

He nodded his head. "I don't know any other explanation for it."

"Well, that's great, isn't it?" I said, forcing cheerfulness, even I was a little freaked out. "Doesn't that just mean good things for us? Like, we don't have to try as hard to stay happy together? It should just happen for us."

"That's not really what being soul mates is about, Joanalie," he scolded gently, placing his forehead against mine. "When two beings are made to be together, it means that there's going to be so many obstacles trying to keep the two apart, that this was the only way to make it any easier. Wherever we come from . . . they make us in twos, so that we'll always find our way back to one another. Being a soul mate just means that we have to try that much harder to stay together."

"Oh, well that's okay. I think it'll be worth it," I whispered, kissing him softly on the lips. I pulled away and looked down at his face. His purple eyes were gleaming with content and satisfaction. It would definitely be worth it.

"I agree," he smiled. "Do you have any other questions, baby?"

"You'd better believe it," I laughed. "I just want to know pretty much everything about your past. I mean, I don't even know how old you are, where you were born, who your parents are, if they're even still alive, if you have - or had - any siblings . . . I just want to know your origins. You know basically everything about me, after all."

"Not quite everything, but we'll get to that later," he joked. "Well to start out with . . . my eight-hundred-and-nineteenth birthday was two months ago, and - "

"Holy shit, you're a dinosaur!" I yelled in surprise, covering my mouth with my hand.

Harrison immediately looked regretful, and I knew I hurt him. I wasn't supposed to care how old he was. He knew how young I was, and didn't care. I wasn't trying to be a bitch, either. It just caught me by surprise.

"Which has always been my favorite animal," I finished lamely.

"Yeah, right. You think I'm old," he stated. "God, that's such a turn-off. I'm older than your, like great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-"

I cut him short by place my lips against his and wrapping my arms around his neck. My bra-covered chest pressed against his bare one, and I continued to make out with him until I had the satisfaction of feeling him perk up . . . quite literally.

After that, I pulled away. "Do you not realize by now, that nothing about you could possibly turn me off?" I asked. It wasn't supposed to be seductive, I was simply stating a very honest fact. So what if he was several centuries older than I am. It just meant we balanced each other out nicely.

He looked up at me skeptically, his hands still pressing at the small of my back. "If you're sure . . ."

"Why wouldn't I be?" I demanded indignantly. "I'm practically a baby in comparison to you, but you don't seem to have a problem with it."

He laughed. "Think about it, Joanalie. Younger women are a hell of a lot sexier than older men."

"Not necessarily! Girls are always going for older guys!" I countered.

"We're not going to get anywhere with this, are we?" he asked with a sigh.

"Nope. You're just going to have to deal with the fact that I don't have a problem with you being 802 years older than I am."

"Actually, I'm only 801 years older. Your 18th birthday is tomorrow," he said.

"Oh, wow! You're right! I almost forgot! How did you know that, anyways?" I asked.

"I have my ways," he smirked. I stuck my tongue out at him and he took the opportunity to wrap his mouth around it and pull me into another make out session. I grinned into the kiss, chewing on his lips before I pulled away.

"I still have questions, grandpa," I giggled.

"Yeah, you don't think I'm old at all," he snorted sarcastically.

"Nah," I kissed his nose. "So, are you going to finish what you were about to say before I interrupted?"

"By calling me a dinosaur," he finished.

"Let it go-oh," I muttered under my breath. He could still hear. Not only because he had super-sensitive hearing powers as an immortal, but also because we were only a few inches apart.

"Right, so I was actually born in London, in the year 1190, and my birth was pretty much the worst thing to have happened to my family. My mother had been betrothed to another man, but my father wanted her. He was not what you would call a good guy in those times. He sought my mother's affection, and when she rejected him, he took advantage of her. That resulted in their conception of me. My mother kept me a secret, knowing he would hurt me if he found out. When I was born, he showed up unexpected and he murdered her. The man who had been betrothed to my mother found my mother dead in her room. He went after my father and managed to track him down after a few short days. My father was then murdered, too. The man, Henry, took me into his care and raised me in seclusion for the first 10 years of my life," Harrison explained slowly. "Henry wasn't the best father figure. He never bothered trying to get close to me. He provided for me, and hired a tutor for me, but I think the fact that I was the child of his true love and the bastard that raped her, bothered him. I guess I don't blame him.

"Henry wasn't a vampire like my mum and dad were. He knew what she was, and always wanted her to turn him, but she loved him to much to take away his life like that. He never told me what I was. One day, he just shipped me off to UPA, and I learned what I was there," Harrison was quiet and I didn't know if he would tell me anymore.

"What were your parents names, Harrison?" I asked quietly, sliding off his lap so that I could lay next to him. He wrapped his arms around me and I put my head on his chest.

"My mother was Lanette, and my father was Victor," he said.

"I'm sorry about what happened to you," I whispered.

"It was a long time ago," he sighed. Then he looked down at me and kissed my lips softly. After a few seconds, we pulled away.

"I do actually have a couple more questions . . . " I said uncertainly. I didn't know if he wanted to answer any more or not.

"Shoot," he offered.

"Okay, well . . . I mean, have you been with, um, a lot of women before? Have you had a lot of serious girlfriends? And also, what happened in your past to make you the gorgeous, sadistic vampire you were when I first met you?" I said in a rush, just wanting to ask if before I could take it back.

I looked up into his beautiful violet eyes. He smiled down at me with all the compassion in the world.

"I think the rest of my story is for another time, baby," he said, kissing my forehead.

I nodded and snuggled into his side deeper. He avoided the questions. Does that mean his answers are something I don't want to hear? Why is he still keeping things from me.

What secrets does he still have to hide?

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