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 Music of Souls روايه باللغه الإنجليزيه

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مُساهمةموضوع: Music of Souls روايه باللغه الإنجليزيه   Music of Souls روايه باللغه الإنجليزيه Emptyالثلاثاء أغسطس 13, 2013 10:23 pm

 Music of Souls روايه باللغه الإنجليزيه 749065461 



[url=/fantasy-paranormal/music-souls/relationship][/url]
by [url=/author/Joanne-J-Kendrick]Joanne J. Kendrick[/url]


Jackson Parrish is a centuries old vampire living life to its fullest.

 His carefree, hedonistic existence is derailed when he meets

 Elisabeth Sidwell who challenges him on every level

and puts contentment out of reach.

Sarah Carrington is Jackson's best friend and a hopeless romantic.

..... She encourages


Music of Souls روايه باللغه الإنجليزيه 1013972976 



Autumn was just beginning to creep into New England.

 The air was still warm but decidedly crisp, promising to transform

the landscape into the backdrop that Jackson Parrish so loved.

 He sauntered down Main Street, the hint of a self-s atisfied smirk

 playing across his full, pink lips. He was well aware of the effect he had

 on people and he reveled in it. Everyone who passed him looked on with awe.

 Jackson undeniably was drop dead gorgeous and oozed charisma to match.

 He was 6'2" with a slim, athletic build and moved with the grace of a dancer.

 Men watched him, slack jawed, amazed that one could be blessed

 with so much and women melted at the mere sight of him.

 His hair was jet black and barely brushed the collar

of the Jon Green Bespoke suit he wore like a runway model.

 His eyes, behind the Chopard Aviators, were a deep yellow gold,

 a shade that is usually only seen in felines. Often,

 when first meeting a woman, he would keep his sunglasses on

 until she regained her composure from the sight of him,

then take them off just to watch her unhinge again.

He delighted in her reaction. He could only be described as a living Adonis

—except for the fact that he wasn’t exactly alive.

 Jackson Parrish was 604 years old… And he was a vampire.

Jackson rounded the corner onto Elm Street toward the Renaissance

 inspired estate he currently called home. Before going in

 he looked up at the cerulean fall sky once more to feel the sun on his face.

 He found it laughable that people thought the sun would kill vampires.

 Every chance he got he stretched his lithe body out like a panther

 to soak up the warmth his own blood could not give him.

He guessed the sunshine myth, along with many other beliefs

 humans had about vampires, was created to help them feel

 a little safer from the dark predators.

The vampire was returning home after spending the night

 with a beautiful woman he had picked up in the bar at a local hotel.

 He liked to find women there. Odds were they would be

 traveling on business and he wouldn’t run the risk of

 seeing them again. He had the capability to make his victims

 forget him, but when they were willing participants,

as most were, he enjoyed knowing

they remembered their time with him.

Jackson did not feed recklessly like many of his kind.

He prided himself on the fact that he had never killed a human

 by sucking them dry. He chose his victims carefully,

as if he were picking a dance partner. Although he could influence

 his victims to willingly let him feed on them

 by merely making eye contact, he preferred to slowly seduce

 his conquests and make them want him as desperately

as he wanted their blood. For Jackson, feeding was sport;

 one he was very good at. He often regretted leading women

 to believe there might be a future with him as he did this morning

 with, What was her name?? Carla? Carrie? Karen?

Yes that was it, Karen, he thought to himself. He made a mental note

 to send a piece of jewelry to her hotel room today.

The gift was a gesture to assuage his guilt over the phone call

 he promised, but would never make.

 The truth was he had never met a woman, human or vampire,

who could hold his interest for more than a day or two.

 In Jackson’s mind, women fell into one of two groups:

 Smart or Fun. The smart ones were way too serious

 and the fun ones, well, they were just too stupid.

“Sarah! You home?” Jackson called to his housemate and best friend

 for 600 years. Sarah Carrington rounded the corner

to the foyer and immediately scowled at Jackson,

 “Well, the manwhore returns. Hope she was pretty.”

“Actually, she was quite beautiful and very cultured, old money,

CEO of some company or other, blah, blah, blah.

Why do they always have to tell me their life story?”

“You are such a pig.” Sarah said half laughing.

If Jackson was Adonis then Sarah was Aphrodite.

She had long blonde hair like spun silk, a perfectly proportioned figure

and blue-green eyes that made you feel you were looking into the sea.

 Like Jackson, she moved with incredible grace, seeming to float

 rather than walk. “Drink?” Asked Jackson

 as he poured himself a rare single malt.

“Oh yeah,” Sarah readily responded. Vampires tend to drink a lot.

 It helps to warm their blood. They carried their glasses to the overstuffed

 sofa and sat facing each other.

 “So how did he take it?” asked Jackson.

“Not well.”

“So sorry luv. Want to talk about it?”

“Maybe once I’m good and drunk.”

“Well then, bottoms up!” He lifted his glass.

Sarah and Jackson had been 23 and 25 years old respectively,

 living privileged lives of English aristocracy when they were

 abducted and turned by the same insane vampire, Victor.

The two vampires stayed together through all the years,

 even attempting a romantic relationship in the seventeenth century

, quickly realizing theirs was one of brother and sister

 rather than lovers. They depended on each other,

 while sharing everything, and owned twelve beautiful estates

around the world that they rotated through, leaving

 when the townspeople started to realize they were not aging.

The couple had recently moved back to Fairhaven,

 in rural New England, after 74 years away.

 Jackson was delighted he had a decade or so to enjoy his favorite home.

 Sarah never understood the appeal.

She much preferred their estates in Europe.

Jackson felt America was fresh and new, “I feel more alive here,

” he would say whenever he was in New England.

Money was not a problem; they had lived so long they possessed

 many priceless artifacts, jewelry and furniture.

Sarah had taken an interest in the stock market

shortly after the crash of 1929. By 1950 she had become

a well-seasoned and shrewd investor.

 It is said you can’t time the markets but Sarah’s record proved differently.

 Together they also did very well with real estate investments,

and Jackson had a penchant for finding and investing in start-ups

 that proved very lucrative. One of the most rewarding

 aspects of living forever is you have unlimited time to perfect

your abilities and accumulate wealth.

Jackson’s true passion was music.

 He was an accomplished pianist and composer,

 although he never published any of his works.

 He said, “They are mine, they are personal

 and I will choose with whom to share them.

” Sarah suspected the real reason was twofold, one:

He did not want his work critiqued by anyone, let alone those

 “jugheads in the modern music industry” and two:

Jackson’s music was so filled with rapture,

sadness and longing that anyone listening to it would understand

 that beneath his snarky I-don’t-give-a-crap-about-anyone

-or-anything attitude boiled a cauldron of raw emotion.

Sarah was the only one who ever saw that side of him,

 and she often felt sorry for his inability to let his guard down.

Jackson also collected cars. Fast cars. Each of their homes had

 “stables” (he refused to call them garages,

“It’s such an uncivilized word.”) filled with Ferraris,

 Lamborghinis, and Porsches, along with prototypes that Sarah

 did not even try to keep track of. Her frivolous avocation

was collecting shoes. She owned every designer on the planet

and made Carrie Bradshaw of Sex and the City look like an amateur.

 Jackson often joked that the day would come when

she would spend more on a pair of shoes than he did on a car.


Sarah and Jackson understood each other in a way no one else ever could

, and for that they were both grateful. Most vampires lived solitary,

 lonely lives. They both understood their bond was rare and felt blessed

to have each other . An eternity alone was something neither

thought they could bear. Life was good, except for the fact that

 they needed human blood to survive.

Vampires are ruled by “The Exemplars” who control the population.

 Permission must be obtained in order to turn a human.

 A vampire’s strength is increased by age and by turning humans.

 Early in the 15th century, Victor decided he would create an army

 and take over the world. He should have been destroyed for his disobedience

, but by the time the Exemplars learned of his plan,

 he had turned so many humans he was too powerful.

All the vampires Victor sired were killed except Jackson and Sarah.

 They were spared because they had made the Exemplars aware of

Victor’s plan. They both intuitively knew he was crazy and although

 they were struggling terribly, they managed to get to

the Exemplars and warn them. Victor despised Jackson and Sarah

 for their betrayal and pledged to destroy them.

The Exemplars were so grateful, they bestowed defenses

 upon them that made them invincible to Victor’s powers,

 but that never stopped him from trying to find ways to hurt them.

 He would pop up every now and then

 and make their lives miserable for a time.


Music of Souls روايه باللغه الإنجليزيه 1013972976 

 
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مُساهمةموضوع: رد: Music of Souls روايه باللغه الإنجليزيه   Music of Souls روايه باللغه الإنجليزيه Emptyالثلاثاء أغسطس 13, 2013 11:21 pm

 
The two vampires sat quietly, drinking, for a long time.

 Jackson knew Sarah would talk when she was ready.

For now, words were not necessary. They had played out this scene

 many times—way too many for Jac kson’s liking.

He hated all this emotional crap, and had it been anyone but Sarah,

he would have made a hasty retreat and stayed away

 until the waterworks passed. Sarah was a hopeless romantic,

 constantly searching for her “soul mate.

” Jackson had lost count of the times she found “The One,”

 only to have her heart broken months or years later.

Jackson was always there to help her pick up the pieces and get on with life.

 He wished to God she would abandon her search.

 It was painful to see her so broken.

 Unfortunately, she rarely fell for vampires.

Maintaining a relationship with a human was always fraught with difficulties.

 The first, not accidentally killing the human in the heat of passion.

Vampires have such strength, they have to maintain enough control

 so as not to crush their partner. Jackson brooded “It’s like having sex

with a butterfly.” Next they have to get the person to accept

 they’re sleeping with a blood sucker. If they get past that,

 the last hurdle is the human wanting to be turned.

Sarah usually made her beaus understand that

 vampirism isn’t all it’s cracked up to be,

 and she would not wish this life on anyone.

 She did get permission to turn a human once, Peter Standish.

 Jackson would never forget that bastard.

Sarah had fallen in love with him in 1864.

Jackson thought he was bad news from the start;

 he suspected Standish knew Sarah was a vampire all along

 and only used her to turn him. Standish started begging her shortly

 after she told him her secret. Once she turned him

and helped him through the painful first weeks, he left her.

 Jackson hunted him down, beat him mercilessly,

and then threatened to stake him if he ever went near Sarah.

He would never tell Sarah, but be damned if he would let that son

 of a bitch get away with hurting and using her that way.

Sarah’s Soul Mate Du Jour was Connor Poe, and without having to be told,

 Jackson knew the human was sitting or pacing below them

 in what could only be described as a holding cell.

They had been in New England for a mere three months,

 but Sarah had fallen fast and hard for Connor.

 She had decided to break the news last night.

 Jackson felt it was too soon, but she was determined.

 He wanted to stay home in case the human got out of line,

 but Sarah had insisted he leave for the night.

 “Being stuck here with one vampire is enough for him to handle.

” He left reticently after making her promise to call if she needed him.

Jackson collected their glasses and poured their fourth drink.

 He handed Sarah hers, sat near her and put his arm around her

 planting a gentle kiss on her temple. She sat quietly

 with her head on his shoulder for a moment then began to weep softly

. Jackson handed her an Irish linen handkerchief from his pocket and waited.

 “His eyes were wild with fear” she sniffed,

“I couldn’t get him to listen to me. I kept saying,

“I would never hurt you, I love you”

 but he just kept trying to get away from me,

 begging me to let him go. Calling me a monster.

He’s never going to accept this.”

Jackson took her face in his hands and looked into her eyes.

 “You know this is a huge shock for him and it’s going to take time

 for him to adjust. You need to be patient and give him

a little space to digest the news.”


“I should have listened to you and waited to tell him.”

Jackson would never say, “I told you so ” at a time like this.

 “What the hell do I know? The bottom line is,

 if this guy really loves you, he will find it in himself to accept you,

 fangs and all.”

Sarah chuckled through her tears.

 Jackson could always make her laugh regardless

 of how miserable she was.

“Do you want me to talk to him?”

“Promise you won’t hurt him or influence him?”

Jackson flashed his most sardonic grin “You’re such a buzz kill.

 Let me just grab a quick shower.”

Jackson returned to the drawing room to find Sarah exactly

 where he left her. She looked so lost his heart ached for her.

 He bent over and kissed the top of her head.

She looked up and forced a smile,

“I like you best in casual clothes, you look less arrogant.”

What an odd thing to say at a time like this, he thought.

 He guessed she was grasping for any distraction to dull the pain.

 Jackson’s hair was still wet and slicked back.

 He was wearing black jeans, a dark grey Versace silk sport shirt

 with the cuffs rolled up, and a pair of A. Testoni loafers.

 “I’m not quite sure what to do with that information,

 but thanks, I guess. Anything special you want me to tell him?”

“Not really, just that I love him, and don’t hurt him.”

“Yeah, yeah, quit your nagging.”

As Jackson walked to the door leading to the basement

 Sarah called after him, “Thank you.”

“Haven’t done anything yet!” he yelled back.

The “holding cell” where Connor was being kept was a lavishly appointed

 700 square foot room. The room contained a sofa, two wing chairs,

a queen size bed, a fully stocked wet bar, kitchenette

, bathroom, widescreen tv, books, and magazines.

 All the comforts of home, except behind the rich brocade fabric

walls was 24 inches of rebar reinforced concrete and the door

consisted of eight inch diameter solid steel bars.

This room was reinforced so even a young vampire could not escape.

The cell was used for two purposes: to give people who had learned

 Jackson and Sarah’s secret time to adjust before being set lose

 or influenced to forget, and to hold newly turned vampires

 until they could be trusted to not wipe out

 the population of a small city.

As he approached the door, Jackson thought about

 the last time he had someone in this room.

Cassandra Davis was a vampire groupie who was desperate to be turned.

Jackson agreed since she was pretty enough and he had not

 turned anyone for quite some time. He could use the life force

 and he was sure he would have an easy time with the Exemplars.

They liked him and he had not asked permission in recent years.

 Jackson enjoyed the surge of power a vampire got from turning a human,

 but it was a real pain in the ass, having to snack carefully on one person

 for days on end, always running the risk of killing them.

 It took all the fun out of it for him. Sarah was a big help here.

 She would set up transfusions if it started to look like the human

 was going to die. She had to do that twice for Cassandra.

Sarah rarely fed on humans anymore. Sometime in the 19th century

 she got it in her head that she was violating people

 and developed a guilty conscience. Jackson would argue,

 “When all is said and done, if you handle them properly,

 you know they love it too.”


“That’s just it, we’re handling them, it feels wrong to me now.”

 These days, she only fed on lovers when

 they had accepted her vampirism and wanted to

 share that intimacy with her. Sar ah got her blood by paying people

 to let her draw it the old fashion way.

 She would say she was a research scientist. You hand a bum

 or junkie $500 for a pint of blood, they don’t ask too many questions.

 A pint here, a pint there and before you knew it she had her own

 little blood bank. She drank blood from a glass, just like scotch.

Jackson would smirk, “Not the same as fresh.”

It took a full two weeks to turn Cassandra and it ended in disaster.

Usually, when a person is turned, he or she is anxious to take off

 and explore their new power, so you keep them a while,

 carefully feeding and teaching them how to control the bloodlust.

Then off the newborn goes to start a life of vampirism;

just like a bird leaving the nest. Unfortunately,

 Jackson realized too late that Cassandra was a crazy bitch,

 and she was needy as hell. She stayed around following him like a lost sheep.

 She was worse than Sarah with the whole “soul mate” crap.

 In the end, Jackson finally lost her somewhere in Russia.

God! She was such a pest.

 The power was hardly worth the aggravation.

Jackson unlocked the door and stepped into the room.

Connor rushed him to get through the doorway before he could close it.

 Jackson brushed him aside as if he were a house cat trying to get outside.

 Without speaking, he went to the bar, poured two drinks,

 set one down on the Rococo table in front of the sofa and sat in

one of the wing chairs. He took a sip of his, and motioned

 with his hand for Connor to sit on the sofa.

 Connor spoke first, “Are you here to kill me?”

Jackson shook his head, “If I wanted to kill you,

you would be dead by now.

 I’m here to try to talk some sense into you.”

Connor pleaded, “Look, I promise I won’t tell anyone about you,

 just let me go, please, I promise.”

“Jesus! Man-up and stop groveling.

I told you I’m not going to kill you!”

“Is Sarah going to kill me?”

Jackson rolled his eyes,

“Sarah loves you, why would she kill you?”

“I don’t understand any of this.

 I feel like I’m in a nightmare. Why am I here?”

“You’re here because Sarah wants to give you some time

 to calm down and accept things.”

“Accept things! I’ll never accept that monster bitch!”

Before Connor even finished spitting out “bitch,”

 Jackson was across the room and had picked him up

by the throat. He glared at him with his face barely

 an inch away and hissed, “Let’s get one thing straight,

 Skippy, Sarah is the best woman you and I will ever know.

 I am here to help you understand her, because,

 for some reason I cannot fathom, she cares about you.

I will answer your questions and give you the information

 you need to get though this, but if you dare say one more disparaging

 word about my best friend, this will not end well for you. Got it?”

Connor was close to passing out from lack of air,

 but whispered, “Got it.”

Jackson dropped him on the sofa, sat back in his chair and crossed

one long leg over the other knee at the ankle.

 He held his glass up, “What say we start over again?”


Connor had righted himself on the sofa and was holding

his head in both hands, shaking.

Jackson inhaled. “D ude, I really think it would help

 if you drank that scotch.” He loved using the vernacular,

 although it never sounded quite right coming from him.

He tried to hide it, however, if you really listened,

 it was evident he came from a different time and place.

His voice, in a word, was “haughty.”

Connor finally looked up and quietly said, “I’m really scared.”

“I get that, but you have my word you will leave this room unscathed

within the next day or two. You need to trust me when

 I say you have a lot of misinformation about vampires.

 The most important thing you need to know is that Sarah

 has never killed anyone. She is a kind,

gentle soul and would never hurt you.”

“But does she drink blood?”

“Well yes, but you don’t have to kill people to get blood.”

“How does she get it?”

Jackson sighed deeply, “Listen, I do not have the patience

 to go through vampire 101 with you. You’re going to have

to get that from Sarah. Let me ask you a question.

How did you feel about Sarah yesterday?”

“I loved her.”

“Ok, Sarah was a vampire yesterday and the day before tha

t and the day before that. The only thing that

 has changed is your knowledge. You fell in love with who she is,

 not what she is.

 She is still that same wonderful person.”

Connor stared straight ahead for a moment,

picked up his glass and drained it.

Now we’re getting somewhere, Jackson thought.

 He got up and poured him another.

Connor’s eyes followed him, “You said I will get out of here;

 what if I don’t accept this? How can you let me go?”

“If you still want out after you learn

all there is to know about Sarah,

she will influence you to forget ever meeting her,

 and you will go on with your mundane life as if she didn’t exist.”

“She can do that?”

“In a heartbeat.”

“How?”

Jackson groaned, “Again, no patience here.”

“Why didn’t she just do it then, instead of putting me in here?”

“Because she wants to give you some time to figure out

 that you two can make this work.”

“Do you think it can work?”

“It doesn’t matter what I think. You and Sarah need to make it work

 and you’re never going to get there if you don’t talk to her.”

Connor had finished his second drink and Jackson could see

 by the softening around his eyes that the alcohol

was starting to take affect. As he refilled Connor’s glass he said,

 “Why don’t you have a few more drinks, make yourself

some food; I’m sure Sarah stocked the fridge with all your favorites.

 Then put a movie in the DVD player and try to get some sleep.

 Things will be a bit clearer in the morning.

 I’ll have Sarah wait until then to come back down.

” Jackson paused at the door for a moment,

“You need to promise me something now. Talk to her… Listen to her…

 Do not call her names or scream at her…

 If you decide to leave, I will respect that,

 but be a gentleman about it. Deal?”

Connor looked up at him with grave emotion

 and barely choked out, “Deal.”


“Good then! I’d hate to have to renege on my promise and kill you.

” With that, Jackson left the room, locking the door

behind him while Connor stared after him, mouth agape.

As Jackson made his way to the first floor, he noticed

 he was feeling weary from all this drama, and also a little hungry.

 He found Sarah in the drawing room, again,

 right where he had left her. She looked so despondent.

“How is he?” she asked.

“As well as can be expected.”

“Do you think he’ll come around?”

“Yeah, I think he might.” The truth was Jackson had no idea

 what the human would do; he just didn’t have the heart to tell her.

He was not even certain he wanted the guy to come around.

 The odds were, he would break Sarah’s heart at some point,

 and would it not be better sooner, rather than later?

 No one would ever be good enough for Sarah in Jackson’s eyes,

 however, as far as her boyfriends went, this guy was pretty amiable.

 He was not too full of himself, and he really did seem to love her.

 Jackson could see it in his eyes. Connor was a lawyer,

which was a real plus. When one had the kind of wealth

 Sarah and Jackson did, there was always need for a lawyer,

 and having to constantly dodge questions about how one amassed

a fortune at such a young age was pretty tough.

Jackson was always ready to influence people,

 yet Sarah insisted they use that as a last resort.

Sarah said, “I think I’ll go down and talk to him.”

Jackson held his hand up, “Not a good idea.

I told him you would be down in the morning.”

“Why did you do that? I need to know what he’s thinking.

” The whine in her voice made Jackson cringe.

“Listen Sarah, I know I’m not any good at these affairs of the heart,

 but I am a man, and a man needs time to sit on things

before he figures out where his head is at.

You women have to beat that horse until it either dies

 or gets up and runs. Men let it rest for a while,

 then figure out whether to nurse it back to health or kill it.”

Sarah laughed for the second time today.

“What a morbid analogy!” She crossed the room and gave him

 a quick peck on his cheek, “You know

 for such a heartless bastard, you’re pretty smart sometimes.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment on both counts” he smirked.

Sarah’s face took on serious cast as she added,

“You’re also my hero.”

He cocked an eyebrow, “Dirty job, but somebody’s got to do it

.” Laugh number three.

Sarah went to the pantry to get an IV bag full of blood.

 The pantry was hidden behind a closet near the bar.

 Walking into it, one would think they had entered

 a hospital supply room. There were two refrigerators for holding blood,

 needles for drawing, IV tubing for transfusions

and a multitude of surgical instruments for removing bullets

 and knife tips from Jackson. Sarah could never understand why;

 she guessed it was some macho alpha male thing;

but Jackson would occasionally go out looking for a fight.

 He would find a bar where gangs hung out and purposely

 pick a fight with the biggest, most obnoxious gang member

 he could find. The whole gang would end up jumping him

 and he would beat the crap out of each and every one,

 always careful to hold back enough so as not to kill anyone.

 He attested, “They’re a bunch of bullies. They deserve it.

” The upside for him was they never involved the police.

The downside was someone always managed to hit Jackson

with a bullet or two or drive a knife into him,

and break the tip off in a bone. Vampires heal very quickly,

 but any foreign object had to be removed or it would be a constant irritant.

Jackson removed the vast majority himself.

 At times he was unable to reach, and it would be up to Sarah.

She hated it and bitched at him the whole time she dug into his body.

 He would groan, “I don’t know what pains me more,

 the scalpel or your mouth.”


Sarah returned from the pantry and squeezed some blood

 into a glass from the bag. “Want some?”

&ldquo ;Why not?” He figured it would be quite some time

 before he could get out to hunt, so “Any port in a storm.

” He sat back with the glass, smelled the contents,

frowned and took a sip. “Christ, it’s like drinking cheap

 merlot from a Dixie cup. Really Sarah,

can you honestly say you don’t taste the plastic bag?”

Sarah shrugged “You get used to it.”

“I think I’d rather starve,” he growled. Jackson had developed

 quite a discerning palate over the years. He was to blood what an oenophile

 is to wine. With just a taste, he could tell you the blood type,

 the person’s sex, what color their hair was and

 even whether or not they were virgins. He mused that

 a red headed female with O negative, who was a virgin,

 had blood that tasted like fine aged Port. Good luck finding

 a legitimate virgin in this day though. Jackson had rules about his victims.

 He would never feed on a woman under 21 years old.

He called vampires who did “pedovamps.” He also never

fed on men. Feeding was so wrapped up in sexuality for him

 that it just did not appeal to him. He was definitely heterosexual.

“Why don’t you go out and hunt.” said Sarah.

“No way, I’m going to stay here with you and wallow in it.

It’s fun,” he said with a cocky grin.

“Really, I’m all right, and I was thinking I would take a long bath

and give myself a pedicure.”

Jackson got up and held her hands, “I have a better idea.

Why don’t you come with me? We’ll kick it up old school;

 find a hunky tennis pro for you and a mindless,

 leggy wench for me. Just what the doctor ordered!”

Jackson really missed the days

when they played wingman for each other.

Sarah groaned, “Connor’s down there.”

“He’s not going anywhere, come on, it’ll be fun. pleeeeze?

” His hands were folded in prayer as he

 cocked his head, lips pursed.

“Jackson, just go. If you don’t feed soon,

 you’ll start getting cranky and I need you happy.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely. It will take me at least a couple hours,

so you’d be here by yourself anyway. Go!”

Jackson felt his bloodlust start to build; this was an unexpected surprise.

 “It’s 3:30, I’ll be gone 2-3 hours tops

. When I get back I’ll let you beat me at chess,

 and we’ll have a nice quiet evening, ok?”

“Sounds great.”

“Promise you won’t go down and see Skippy?”

“Dammit Jackson, stop calling him that!”

 He always picked some condescending nickname for Sarah’s beaus.

“Promise me!”

“I promise I won’t see CONNOR!”

“Good, see ya luv” and he was out the door.


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مُساهمةموضوع: رد: Music of Souls روايه باللغه الإنجليزيه   Music of Souls روايه باللغه الإنجليزيه Emptyالأربعاء أغسطس 14, 2013 1:11 am

 
Jackson knew he had his work cut out for him if he was going to

 get back in under three hours. He was very much in the mood for a fun,

 airheaded bimbo after all the drama today but that

 would be near impossible. They were all at their boring 9-5 jobs now.

 He decided his best optio n was to go to Stanton Street

 where the expensive boutiques were, and hoped to find a lonely,

 rich wife getting back at her husband by spending his money.

 If worse came to worse, he could influence a pretty shop owner

 and take her in the back room. He would be back home in a half hour

 if he did that but, damn, did he not deserve a little fun after being

 the go-to guy for everyone today? He decided

 if he hadn’t seduced someone by 4:15 he would go to plan B.

As he approached the shopping district, Jackson noticed

 a series 7 BMW slowing down. The blinker went on

and the car pulled into a spot. He waited for the driver to emerge,

 and when she did he let out a soft whistle Bingo.

 She was a tall bleached blonde who, Jackson guessed was in her mid-forties,

 but looked younger thanks to cosmetic surgery and Pilates.

 She was dressed impeccably in Chanel, and definitely

 had the stringent look of an ignored wife. She would do just fine

. Jackson slid up right behind her before she could duck into a shop,

 “Excuse me, I’m new in town and I wonder if you could help me out?”

 She let out a self-important sigh as she turned;

ready to dismiss the pesky newcomer. Then she saw him.

 He never tired of the look on people’s faces when they got

 a good look at him. Her eyes widened then ran over him

 as if she were appraising a sinful dessert she was about to devour.

This one’s bold! He thought.

The blonde purred, “Well certainly! What can I do for you?”

Jackson removed his sunglasses and drawled,

 “That remains to be seen, why don’t you start by directing me

 to the best shop to find a suit.”

She stood, transfixed on his eyes for a moment,

 then steadied herself and said “I’ll do better than that,

 I’ll take you there.” This was going to be easier than he thought.

The two exchanged pleasantries and blatant flirtations

as they walked to Chapman’s, an upscale men’s clothier.

 Her name was Claudia. Jackson had taken her elbow,

mostly to move her along a little faster. The shopkeeper met them

 at the door with a smile. “How can I help you?”

“Looking for a suit, sir,” answered Jackson.

“Very good, what size?”

“Hmm, I’m not sure, what do you think?” Most of Jackson’s clothes,

 especially his suits, were custom made or straight off the runway

 from Paris or Milan. He rarely bought anything except jeans

 and causal shirts off the rack. The shopkeeper and Claudia

 both looked at him quizzically, wondering how a man who was

 so obviously a clotheshorse did not know his suit size.

 Jackson shrugged his shoulders

“I’m not very good with numbers.”

That produced a laugh from both of them and put the question to rest.

“Let’s see,” said the shopkeeper, “I’d say a 42 long should work.”

“Good then, let’s have at it, chop, chop, in a bit of a hurry here.”

Claudia put on a pout, thinking she had misread Jackson’s

 intentions for her. He tapped her gently under the chin,

 “Don’t worry sweetheart, I’ve got plenty of time for you.

” She smiled and started looking through the rack of suits.

 The shopkeeper pulled out a dark blue Jay Kos and a grey Armani.

 Claudia chose a black Valentino.

 “Great!” said Jackson. “Ring 'em up!”


“What?? All three?”

“Yep, here’s my card.” He held out his American Express.

The shopkeeper was standing with a look of disbelief, holding the two suits.

 Jackson could see this guy was going to need

 some motivation to move fa st. He took a hundred dollar bill

 from his money clip and waved it in front of the shopkeeper’s nose,

 “This is yours if you get those puppies bagged and ready to

go in under three minutes.” The shopkeeper grabbed the Valentino

 from Claudia, the credit card from

 Jackson and bolted to the register.

Jackson turned his attention to Claudia, who was motionless.

 He snapped his fingers in front of her eyes, “You okay?”

“Uh, yeah. Don’t you want to try those on?”

He would have loved to watch her ogle him as

 he strutted for her but there was no time.

“Not necessary, my tailor is a miracle worker.”

“You just spent upwards of $9,000 on suits

 and you don’t want to try them on?”

Jackson leaned in to her, brushed his lips against her ear

 and whispered,“I’ve got a closet full of Caracenis and Brionis at home.

” He felt her shiver under his lips. He stepped back

 and gave his most, “guilty as charged” smile.

 She smiled back, yet still seemed unable to speak.

 “Let’s get out of here,” he said as he took her arm again,

 leading her to the register. Jackson dropped

 the bill on the counter, pocketed his card,

 and grabbed the garment bags.

“Come again!” called the shopkeeper behind them.

“Well, that was fun.

” Claudia said once she composed herself.

Jackson stopped her and gently pushed her against

 the brick wall they were walking by. He faced her

 and moved in close. He heard her sharp intake of breath and smiled.

 “I was thinking of another type of fun

 we might have together.”

“What do you have in mind?”

“The Hotel Roseville is only a few blocks,

 I was thinking I would like to take you there and show you

 just how much fun I can be. Would you like that?

” He had taken a lock of her hair between his fingers

 and was gently twirling it.

Claudia swallowed hard and whispered, “Oh yes.

” She had never met a man so bold, or so sexy.

Jackson kissed her, very gently then took her arm once more.

 As he turned to start walking, he quickly checked his Tag Heuer

, 4:12, right on schedule.

Luckily, they were the only ones in the lobby,

so Jackson was able to get a room quickly.

 He asked for the first floor to avoid a long elevator ride.

 He held the door open for Claudia and followed her into the room.

Normally, he would have had a bottle of scotch and some ice

sent to the room, but today there was not time.

 He took Claudia’s face in his hands and kissed her again,

 this time more urgently. He pulled away and looked into her eyes.

 Claudia took a deep breath “I’ve never done this before.”

Jackson didn’t believe that for a second, but

 if she wanted to play it that way, fine. He would play along.

He brushed her hair behind her ear.

“I’ll just have to be extra gentle, then, won’t I?

” She smiled and put her hands on his chest. He started to kiss her neck,

 feeling the blood flowing through her veins and hearing

 her heart pound. He found the spot where his fangs would connect,

 but first he would rock her world. He led her to the bed and slowly

 and methodically undressed her. She was already putty in his hands.

 He was privately gloating at how well this was going;

I think I’m going to break a record here. Jackson proceeded

 to pleasure her in ways she had never experienced,

asking nothing of her. When he was sure she was sufficiently

 exhausted he lay on his back next to her. She nuzzled

into his chest and purred, “That was amazing.

” She brushed her fingers across his chest,

“Now what would you like me to do for you?”


“Since you’ve asked. There is something you can do for me,

 but first I have to tell you a secret. Can you keep a secret?”

Claudia giggled, “Of course I can, this whole day is a secret.”

Jackson brought his lips to her ear, “I’m a vampire

 and I would very much like to taste your blood.

” He could feel his rapacious hunger build

 as his fangs began their descent.

Claudia laughed softly, “Sure you are, here you go Count Dracula

” and she turned her head to expose her neck. Jackson barely

 brushed her neck with his lips, and as she let out

 a soft contented sigh, he backed off for just a second to find his mark,

 then sunk his fangs into her. She stiffened briefly

as she realized what was happening, but before she could even

 raise a hand to resist, Jackson’s venom had produced

a surge of euphoria. A wave of unimaginable pleasure

coursed through her entire body. She immediately relaxed

 and closed her eyes. When Jackson was done feeding

 he kissed her again and said, “Now, that was amazing.”

Claudia looked up at him “Is this a dream?”

“No, this is as real as it gets sweetheart”

“But...”

Jackson put his index finger on her lips to silence her,

 “I don’t have time for explanations today. I have to leave now.

 Let’s just chalk this up to a pleasant hour with a stranger.”

Claudia sat stunned as he quickly dressed.

“You’re just going to leave me here?”

Jackson squatted down beside the bed and took both her hands,

 “There is nothing I would rather do than stay here enjoying

 you until the sun comes up, but I have something

 very important to do and it can’t wait.”

As he got up and headed to the door she asked,

 “Will I see you again?”

“Probably not. But you will keep our secret,

and do you know why?”

“No.”

“Because, if you don’t A: your husband will find out you sleep around

and B: I will kill you and every one you tell.”

 As he left the room he called back “Charge whatever

 you want to the room.” 5:25 Yessss!

Sometimes I even amaze myself!

Jackson had gone to town on foot. By the time he got a car

 out and waited at all the lights it would have taken him longer to

 drive than using vampire speed. As he headed up the walk

to the mansion, he stopped for a moment to take in the trees

 that were just beginning to change color. It was early September,

 and Jackson felt there was not a more beautiful place on earth

 than New England in the fall. The golds and reds of the leaves

 produced a different landscape each day. He could discern the subtle

 changes in hue and would walk for hours in the woods appreciating

 nature’s rich bounty. Sarah would say,“Seen one orange leaf,

 seen 'em all.” No matter where they were living,

 Jackson always made a trip to New England during peak foliage.

 This year and for the next ten to twelve he would have it all,

not just a week or two in the Berkshires. Between his conquest today

and the feel of the crisp fall air, he was on top of the world.

 Now if the Sarah/Skippy thing would only resolve itself.

When Jackson entered the house, he looked at the antique clock

on the mantle: two minutes to six. Ha! He laid the suits across the bar

 and poured drinks for both himself and Sarah.

He was sure she would be down soon. He then sat on the sofa

, put his feet up on the overstuffed ottoman and once again

congratulated himself on his prowess.


After a few minutes, he heard Sarah behind him,

 though something sounded strange. Was she shuffling?

 He turned, looking over the back of the sofa and there

 she was in a plush white robe with a towel on her head and yes,

 she was definitely waddling along. “What the hell?&rd quo;

 Jackson lifted up a bit to see her feet and found his answer.

 She was barefoot with those foam toe separators on her feet

and her toenails painted a dark crimson.

“You like?” she asked, looking down at her toes.

“My favorite color,” he responded and

raised his glass in a mock toast.

Sarah removed the towel from her hair and shook out her locks.

 Even wet, her hair cascaded in a full mane that

 framed her face beautifully.

 Sarah eyed the garment bags. “What’s that?”

“Suits.”

“Suits? Off the rack?

” She asked as she unzipped the Valentino.

“Yep.”

She held up the suit and yelled,

 “Jackson, you will never wear this!”

“I know. I thought we could try to bribe Skippy with them.”

She threw the suit back on the bar, glared at him,

 “You’re such an ass!” The thought did cross her mind that,

although the suits were sub par for Jackson,

 they were much nicer than any Connor owned.

Maybe if they worked things out she would take Jackson up

 on his offer. He was a full head taller than Connor,

 but they probably were close in size across the chest.

She was sure Antonio could work his magic and tailor them perfectly.

 Damn him. Only Jackson could turn a kindness into an insult.

 “So, I assume you influenced some sweet thing after making

her commission quota for the month.”

“Nope.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I did not influence anyone.”

“So, you gave up on feeding

 and bought three suits you don’t want?”

“Nope.”

Sarah crossed her arms, “Can we please stop playing

 twenty questions and just tell me what you’ve been doing for

the last two and a half hours?”

Jackson leaned back a little and clasped his hands behind his head.

 “Well if you must know, I picked up an attractive,

 slightly long in the tooth socialite, shopped for suits with her,

 brought her to the Roseville and yada, yada, yada.

Here I am, well fed and smug as hell.”

“No way!”

“Yes way, just call me Maestro.”

Sarah sat on the sofa, facing him, hugging her knees,

 careful not to smudge her toes. She smacked him in the arm and said,

“I want every detail.” She looked like a sorority girl ready

 to dish with her friends. Jackson began to recount the whole story

 and with all the “Oh my Gods!” and “You’re kiddings!

” Jackson was sure that Sarah was actually enjoying herself.

 He had not expected the bonus of his day helping her out of her funk.

 When he finished his tale, Sarah shook her head,

“Unfriggin’ believable.” Jackson raised an eyebrow and crooned,

“Who’s the man?.... So, you ready for that chess match?”

“I don’t really feel like chess tonight.”

“Ok, want me to grill up some steaks?”

“No, I don’t feel like eating either.” Vampires do not have

 to eat food but do enjoy it. You will never see them

 eating mediocre food, but they love a great steak or decadent

dessert as much as humans.

 They eat for taste and texture, not sustenance.


Jackson let out an exasperated sigh,

 “Why don’t you tell me what you would like to do?”

Sarah dropped her eyes and said softly,

 “What I would really like is for you to play for me.”

“Oh, come on! You can’t be serious, Sarah. You cry when I play

and you’re happy. What are you trying to do? Put yourself

into a full blown depression?” Jackson was right;

 she could barely get through five or six measures of his music

 before the tears started to flow. What he did not understand

was his music was cathartic for her.

“Pleeeze?”

“Fine, but if you start sounding suicidal, I’m going slap you around.

” They walked to the music room with Jackson grumbling

“glutton for punishment” and “own worst enemy,

” under his breath.

The music room had raised panel cherry walls and a coffered ceiling

 with intricately carved beams. There were six large ornate

 sheet music cabinets along one wall and comfortable seating

 for eight, although Sarah was the only audience he ever had.

Slightly off center in the room stood a breathtaking, nine-foot,

 ebony Steinway concert grand piano. Jackson went to one

of the cabinets and asked, “What’s your pleasure Ma’am?”

“You pick.”

“Good.” At least that way he could play something upbeat.

 If she picked, he was certain it would be something melancholy,

 and in his opinion, that was the last thing she needed now.

 He ruffled through some pieces, “Let me see now,

something in a major key. Aha, perfect.”

 He picked a sprightly sonata in b-flat major.

Four of the music cabinets housed Jackson’s compositions,

the other two held other composers. He often thought,

 If Beethoven or Chopin had lived for centuries, imagine the treasures

we would have. Jackson had not been composing much lately.

When Sarah asked him why, he answered, “I don’t know

, I guess I’m running out of things to say.”

Jackson sat at the piano while Sarah sat in her usual chair,

 and grabbed a throw pillow to hug. He made an overtly dramatic

 flourish with his arms, winked at her and started to play.

Jackson had long thin fingers and could span a thirteenth

 on the keyboard. He had no trouble playing Rachmaninoff.

 His fingers danced over the keys as he coaxed beautiful

 sound from each one. Sarah enjoyed watching him play

almost as much as hearing him. He truly lost himself in his music

and his hard mask of self-control would vanish. His features softened

 and you could almost feel the passion welling up in him.

He never cried, but intense emotion was evident in his expression.

 She had given up years ago trying to convince him to let

 the rest of the world see this side of him. She thought about

 the last time she pushed him. He exploded,

 “What, so I can be like you? Half the time pining

 for Miss Wonderful and the other half whining

 because she ripped my heart out!”

Sarah shrieked, “Is that really how you see me?”

“Oh God, no. I’m sorry Sarah. I love that you are so caring

 and wear your heart on your sleeve. You don’t have a cynical bone

 in your body. I wouldn’t change a thing about you.

 It’s just not me. I know you think I have all this longing inside me,

 but I don’t. I like the way I live, I’m happy.

I don’t want all the difficulties that come with relationships.

 It’s not worth it.”


Who knows, she thought. Maybe he was right.

 She certainly had seen her share of heartache, but unlike Jackson,

 she did believe it was worth it.

Sarah had only seen Jackson cry twice through all the years.

 The first time was shortly after being turn ed.

The two sat together weeping over their lost lives,

 having decided to keep their secret from their families.

 The families had already grieved, so Sarah and Jackson decided,

 as painful as it was, to spare them from going through the emotiona

l upheaval of finding the two alive, only to eventually learn

 they were vampires. They stayed close by until all their

 immediate relatives died, careful never to be spotted watching.

The second time she saw him cry was when his sister Emily died.

Jackson was one of four siblings. He had two brothers and a sister.

Emily was seven years older than Jackson and,although the whole family

 was close, Jackson and Emily shared a special bond.

She was the oldest and he was the youngest.

 When Jackson was born Emily decided he was her baby

and always took care of him. He idolized her.

She gave him his love of music and schooled him in all the proper

 ways a noble man should behave. One of his favorite memories

of her was when he would do something ungentlemanlike,

which was often. She would reprimand him,

“No brother of mine will act like a savage.”

 Emily contracted smallpox when she was 33 years old.

 Jackson had only been a vampire for a little over a year.

 He was devastated. Sarah had to convince him not to turn Emily.

In his heart he knew he shouldn’t. She would not have survived

the transformation anyway. Sarah held Jackson

while he sobbed uncontrollably. How can this be happening?

 I won’t get to say goodbye to her.” It took him a very long time

 to recover and Sarah worried for a time that he might find someone

 to stake him. If it hadn’t been for Sarah, he would have.

 He could never do that; leave her all alone.

Jackson finished playing and looked up at Sarah.

 She was clapping profusely and shouting “Bravo.

” Her face was wet with tears, as he knew it would be.

He rolled his eyes, stood up and said, “I need a drink.”

“Here, have a sip of mine. Please play something else.”

Jackson thought, I should have known better.

 She won’t be satisfied until I play something that makes

 her want to slit her wrists. He would not deny her when

 she was hurting like this and she knew it. He’d play all night

 if she wanted. He went back to the cabinet and found a concerto

 in d-minor. This ought to do the trick. When he finished

 this piece she let out a guttural sob. He shook his head,

 “Well, I guess we’re finished here. How ‘bout we go watch

“Beaches” now. That will really get the job done.”

No, play some more,” she pleaded

Jackson threw up his hands, “Fine, you pick.”

 Maybe if he made her choose, she would get it out

 of her system sooner. Jackson grabbed the drink

out of her hand and finished it,

“If I can’t drink, you can’t drink.”

She pursed her lips in a pout, and then jumped up to

 a music cabinet and opened a drawer.

 “Where’s that one you gave me for my birthday last year?

” Jackson got up and retrieved the piece. He played on for about an hour.

 When he noticed her eyes were getting heavy he played

softer until she started to nod off.


He quietly got up and cupped her face

 with his hand “Time for bed Princess.”

“Oh, I guess I am a little sleepy.”

“Want me to carry you?”

“No, I can walk.” Vamp ires do not need sleep,

 but, like food, they enjoy it, and just like humans,

 crying and emotional upheaval fatigue them.

Jackson walked Sarah to her room and

as she went in he asked, “You want me to sit with you?”

“No I think I’ll be able to sleep.”

“Ok, but if not come and get me.”

“I will”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“Goodnight then”

“Night... Jackson?”

“What?”

“I love you.”

“Love you too, Princess”



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مُساهمةموضوع: رد: Music of Souls روايه باللغه الإنجليزيه   Music of Souls روايه باللغه الإنجليزيه Emptyالأربعاء أغسطس 14, 2013 1:53 am

Chapter 4




Jackson’s room was at the other end of the long hallway.

Vampires have very keen hearing and, as close as they were,

Sarah and Jackson liked their privacy. Jackson was not so concerned

 for himself, since he never brought women home.

They might get the wrong idea, or wors e yet, come back.

 He considered going down to the drawing room for a drink,

but decided, he too, was quite weary. It had been a long day.

 He wondered if what’s-her-name from last night was still at the hotel.

 Maybe he could rally for a little nightcap after all Oh crap!

He had forgotten to send her that jewelry.

 Might as well call it a night.

Jackson had a strange dream that night. He was in a forest with a woman,

 whose face he could not see. She was wearing a flowing,

diaphanous gown and had long, wavy, bronze colored hair.

 He yearned to see her face, but when he approached her

 to make her turn, she disappeared, the moment he touched her.

 He whirled around and there she was again just out of reach.

This happened again and again. Every time he got close enough

 to see her face, she vanished. Jackson woke feeling frustrated

and confused. He rarely had dreams, when he did they were of feeding

 on some beautiful woman. Nice dreams. This one was disturbing.

 It was 5:00 a.m. He tried to shake the dream off and go back to sleep,

 yet could not. He decided to get up and take a walk, but first,

 he would check on Sarah. He threw on some jeans,

 a T-shirt and a pair of Nike’s and headed for Sarah’s room.

 The door was open and she was gone. “So much for my walk. Damn!

” He wanted to listen in when she talked to Skippy

 in case he got out of line. He hurried downstairs

 and found Sarah in the kitchen making coffee.

“You were supposed to come and get me if you couldn’t sleep.”

“It’s morning.”

He rolled his eyes, “Hardly.” She had two cups ready to pour.

 “That one for me?” He knew it was not, he wanted to make her

 squirm a little for breaking her promise. “Sure, take it.

” She turned to get another from the cupboard.

“He’s probably still sleeping you know.” Jackson knew the odds

 were that guy hadn’t slept a wink all night,but he was going to

 get her to wait as long as he could.

“Then I’ll wait until he wakes up.”

“Why don’t we go for a nice walk first?

 I’ll try to convert you to a leaf peeper.”

“Jackson, please, I’m going nuts here.

 I have to see him or I’ll burst.”

“All right, but I’m listening in for a while until I’m sure

 he’s not going to be a dick about things.”

“What good will that do?”

“I will stop him.”

Sarah set her jaw and growled, “You are not,

 under any circumstance, going to touch him!”

Jackson put his hands up in surrender.

“Fine, but I’m not going to let him verbally abuse you.

 If I can’t beat him, I’ll get you out of there.”

“Whatever!” She knew it was no use arguing with him.

 She poured the coffees and headed to the door with Jackson

 behind her. As they descended the stairs, Jackson started

 humming the Death March. Sarah had to fight back a chuckle.


Connor had spent most of the evening pacing around the cell,

 trying to make some sense of everything. He had stopped briefly

 to eat, needing to soak up all the alcohol. He had not drank

 this much since his undergrad days and really felt like shit.

 He was reasonably sure they we ren’t going to kill him,

 unless they got their kicks out of seeing people freak

 out before murdering them. God, how can she be a murderer?

Jackson said she never killed anyone. That guy’s an obnoxious,

 self righteous prick, but Connor felt sure he was telling

the truth when he said he would have been dead already

 if he was going to kill him.

Connor had been with many women, even lived with

 one for a year, yet he had never met anyone

 he had connected with like Sarah. She was everything

he ever dreamed of. Up until yesterday he thought they

 would be together forever. He had even gone to look at rings

last week. A vampire! He hadn’t even believed they existed.

When she first said it, he thought she was joking.

He remembered the look on her face when he called her a monster.

She was so distraught; no way did she want him dead.

You can’t fake that look. She can make me forget her.

Do I want to forget her? Some of the most beautiful times

of my life have been with her. Am I willing to give them up?

Maybe she can make me forget she’s a vampire and

go back to pretending she’s human. I could live with that,

and I wouldn’t have to lose her. Maybe she can even make me

 think it’s ok for her to be a vampire. Does she want me

to be a vampire? Christ, I’m going to lose my mind!

Jackson held back far enough so Connor would not know he was there,

yet close enough to get into the room in a hurry, if need be.

 Sarah opened the door and said “Good-morning.

” She closed but didn’t lock it. It’s not like he had a chance

 of getting by her. Well, thought Jackson,

He didn’t rush her like he did me. That’s a good sign.

“Hi.” said Connor.

“I brought you some coffee.”

“Thanks. Oh, and thanks for the lasagna. It was good.”

“I’m glad you liked it.” After an awkward moment, Sarah said

, “Connor, I hope you know that I would never

 do anything to hurt you.”

“What do you call deceiving me for two and a half months?”

She did all she could to keep from crying.

 “I am so sorry about that, but you never would have given me


 a chance if you knew from the beginning.”

“Exactly, and I wouldn’t be going through a living hell now, would I?”


“No, but we also wouldn’t have had all the wonderful times either.”


“You mean the lies. None of it was real. You were lying to me

 the whole time, was it fun for you? Playing with the weak human?

” He was starting to raise his voice. Jackson was clenching

 and unclenching his fists.

He would not let this go on much longer.


Sarah’s voice took on a tone of desperation,

“It’s not like that at all. I truly love you.

Do you think I want to be this way?”


“I have no idea what you want.”

“I want you, I want us to be together.”





“Were you born this way?”

“No, someone made me this way, against my will.


” Neither of them could bear to say the word vampire.

“Jackson said you could make me forget all about you.”


“If that’s what you want, yes.”


“Can you just make me forget yesterday and today?”
her at ease. “Okay, I’ll walk you out.” When she came back

 into the room she asked Jackson,

 “Do you think he really meant it?”
“Hell yeah, that boy almost punched me for you.”


She sat close to Jackson and beamed, “I’m soooo happy.”

Jackson put his arm around her shoulder, “If you’re happy, I’m happy.”


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مُساهمةموضوع: رد: Music of Souls روايه باللغه الإنجليزيه   Music of Souls روايه باللغه الإنجليزيه Emptyالأربعاء أغسطس 14, 2013 2:50 am

 
Chapter 5



“So what’s on the agenda today Princess?” Jackson was a little disappointed

 that Connor left. He was hoping to have the day and night to himself,

 and now that was unlikely.

Sarah got up, took his face in her hands, and kissed him

 on the fo rehead “You, sir, are officially off duty.

 I’m going shopping then spending the rest of the day at the spa.

 Tonight, I’m going to curl up with a book

 and wait for Connor to call.”

“You want me to go to the spa with you? I wouldn’t mind a little massage

therapy today, if you know what I mean.”

“Absolutely not. You have been playing nursemaid to me for two days.

 Make today all about you, you deserve it.”

Jackson raised an eyebrow “If you insist.”

Sarah practically danced out of the room, on her way up the stairs

 she shouted, “Later, Stud.” It was so good to see her like this.

 He hoped it would last.

Jackson thought about his options for the day.

Should I go find a little afternoon delight or kill some time here

 and wait for tonight? Could do both, but Sarah would call me a glutton.

 Definitely still in the mood for a low IQ. Since it was Friday

 and all the fun ones would be out drinking tonight,

he decided to take another walk, then maybe a nap.

He’d hit some local bars tonight until he found just what

 he was looking for. No settling tonight,

 he had all the time in the world.

He took a long hot shower at 5:00. Then he laid out his clothes

 for the evening and crawled into bed for a catnap.

He planned to head into town about 8:30.

Too early and the ladies would be sober.

Too late and they’d be sloppy drunk. The best time to have fun

seducing them was about 9:00-9:30. Just when

 they were getting a little tipsy and their inhibitions were taking a walk,

 but before they were slurring their words.

Poor things had command of so few as it was.

Just as he was about to nod off, he heard Sarah come home.

He sat up in bed, waiting for her to come in and show him

 the shoes she inevitably bought. He heard her at the top of the stairs,

 she definitely was carrying shopping bags, but instead

of turning right to his room she headed left to her own.

That’s odd. “Hey,” he yelled.

Sarah peeked around his door. “What’s up?”

“I was about to ask you the same question.”

“Nothing, I’m going to take a bath then start my book.”

“Don’t you want to show me your treasures?”

“I told you today is all about you.” And she skipped away.

Jackson woke with a start at 7:15 pm. He had that damn dream

 about the bronze haired nymph again. He got dressed

 and went into Sarah’s room. She was sitting up in bed reading.

 “Wanna have a drink with me before I head out?”

“Nope.”

“You mad at me?”

Sarah dropped her book laughed,

“What on earth could I possibly be mad at you for?”

“Just making sure. Don’t wait up.”

“Never do.”

Jackson arrived at Poncho’s at 8:30. He had taken out

 his new Lotus Elise and gone for a little joy ride first.

It was still early, but he would hang back for a bit and check

things out thoroughly before going into action.


Poncho’s was a staple for the twenty-something crowd.

 There was a restaurant area, a large serpentine shaped bar

and an area off to the side with two pool tables and a jukebox.

 It was dark in there, which he liked. With his vampire vision

 he could see clearly what the othe r patrons could not.

 “The hunter’s edge.” He went to the bar, and once he got his drink,

 turned on his stool for a good look. There were a few couples

 at the bar, nothing interesting there. He turned his attention

to the pool tables where two couples were playing and drinking beer.

 Right in the middle was a cute little redhead about to make her shot.

 Most surely a contender. She was laughing and one of the guys,

 probably her boyfriend, had his hand on her ass.

Jackson moved to a corner to get a better view.

 He stood, leaning into the corner and sized up the situation.

 He thought briefly of his dream, but the hair was not the same.

 It was bronze in the dream, not red and Freckle’s

 hair was Irish red. He hoped she would be O negative.

No way was she a virgin, not the way she was grinding up

 against Joe Jock. As he was deciding whether

 she was worth having to influence the other three or not,

 Jackson caught sight of someone in his peripheral vision.

 Hello! A beautiful woman walking along the bar was staring at him.

 When he looked up she quickly averted her gaze.

Must be a shy one. She sure didn’t look it though.

She wasn’t just pretty; she was downright gorgeous

 and carried herself with a sartorial elegance.

 She didn’t look like she belonged here, way too classy.

You would expect to see her in an upscale bar in Manhattan.

She appeared to be in her early thirties, had chestnut brown hair that

 fell in soft waves around her shoulders with thin streaks

 of what looked like fire running through it. Jackson mused,

 “That must be natural. No way could you get all those colors

 from a bottle.” She was wearing a silk blouse, Jimmy Choos

 and a pencil skirt with a slit up the side, which gave just a glimpse

 of leg that looked like it went on forever.

 Jackson was most definitely a leg man.

They didn’t have to be particularly long.

The shape was what was important to him.

This one had it all. He glanced back at the redhead briefly

and thought, She’ll keep.

Beauties like Gams don’t come around very often.

Jackson sidled up behind her as she was ordering her drink

“Glenfiddich, neat.”

Oooh, a scotch drinker. You don’t see that too often in women her age.

 BONUS. “Make that two, and put it on my tab.”

She barely turned to acknowledge him.

 “I can buy my own drink, thank you.”

“I’m sure you can, but please allow a gentleman the gesture.

” Nothing! No response whatsoever. If he didn’t know better,

 Jackson would have thought she was a vampire,

 but he would have smelled that from across the room.

This one smelled human, real human, almost beyond human.

 It hit him so hard, he guessed, because she had no cover

-up scent on her. These days humans sprayed and bathed

in all kinds of crap to mask their odor. Between the shampoo

, perfume, body wash and all the other scents, a vampire

 could barely get a whiff of the earthy delicious

 smell that was natural. Sometimes he wanted to hose his victims

 down before feeding. This one didn’t even seem to have deodorant on.

He had to resist the urge to bury his nose in her hair right then.

 “My name’s Jackson, Jackson Parrish.” He waited.


“Thank you for the drink, Mr. Parrish.”

“You’re welcome. Please, call me Jackson. And you are?”

She didn’t hesitate a second here, “Not interested.”

Christ, who is this woman? “Well, that’s an unusual name.

 Your parents must not have liked you much.

” He heard an almost imperceptible chuckle.

She really had her guard up. He wondered

 if some moron had just dumped her.

As she turned to face him, she said,

“Look Mr. Parrish,” and stopped in mid sentence as their eyes met.

Jackson felt a jolt go through him straight to his core,

 leaving him breathless. She had the most beautiful eyes

 he had ever seen. They were a soft,

sable brown with specs of black that seemed to swirl in motion

around her pupils like two tiny solar systems.

She broke the gaze first as Jackson asked, “Did you feel that?”

“No.”

She had to have. How could she not, and if she really didn’t

,she wouldn’t have said no. She would have said

 “feel what?” This was crazy. He should be controlling

this situation by now. Not sitting here trying to figure out

 what the hell was happening. He thought maybe

 he should give up and go back to freckles,

 however, he was way too intrigued.

She took a breath. “As I started to say, I would like to

 just be left alone. Why don’t you turn your attention

 back to Lucy there? I’m sure you’ll have luck with her.”

It dawned on him that she must have been watching while

 he was appraising the redhead. This would take

 some damage control. Jackson decided if things didn’t turn

soon he would have to influence her.

 He was getting both frustrated and hungry, and he couldn’t remember

ever wanting a woman so fiercely.

He said, “She’s not my type. Jealous, are we?”

“Oh, yes sir. I was so hoping you would sweep me off my feet

and take me away from my sad, lonely

 life straight to fairy-tale land!”

Smart ass. I like that! He thought. He sat on the bar stool next to her.

 “Do you think maybe we could start over,

 with a more civil tone perhaps?”

“Weeeee! have started nothing. Is it really

 impossible for you to believe that a woman exists

 who isn’t foaming at the mouth to bed down with you?”

“Actually, yes it is.” He had decided to influence her.

 He was beyond playing games.

She let out a throaty laugh “Well, at least you’re honest.

” Her voice was rich, and full. After he influenced her

 he would ask her to laugh for him again.

Jackson needed her to make eye contact,

 “All right, let’s make a deal. Look me straight in the eye.

 Shake my hand, introduce yourself and

 I’ll leave you alone if that’s what you want.”

“Fine!” She turned and held out her hand. She was warm,

 slightly warmer than she should be. He wondered if she had a fever.

 “How do you do Jackson? My name is Elisabeth.

” She raised her eyes through dark,

 full lashes and locked full on with his.

Jackson felt that surge again and almost forgot what he was doing.

 What the hell is that about! She didn’t look away this time.

His pupils dilated and transfixed on hers as he commanded

“You want more than anything to be with me.”

Elisabeth slowly stood up, leaned into him with her whole body,

 put her lips to his ear, and nibbled softly on his earlobe.

He felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up and a shiver

run down his spine. No woman had ever elicited a response like

 that from him. He felt unsteady and breathless.

 There was no bloodlust, but rather a longing that gripped him

 and clouded his thoughts. She brought her lips to his ear

and rasped softly “I’ll be dipped in shit before I let a misogynist

 pig like you lay a hand on me.” By the time Jackson

 fully realized what had happened, she was gone. This was impossible.

He had influenced her! First he felt utter confusion, then anger.

He was going to have that bitch if he had to use brute force.

 He felt rage welling up in him as he went to find her.


He stood in the parking lot looking for her and sniffed the air.

 She must be in a car. He waited to hear an engine start, ready to pounce.

 Nothing!! Where was she? Had he sat there, astonished,

 longer than he thought? She was gone. He pounded his fists

on the hood of a car, putt ing deep dents in the metal.

Jackson was furious. He paced around the parking lot

for a few minutes cursing the first woman to ever deny him,

 and then he stormed back into the bar, grabbed the red head

, looked her in the eyes and growled, “You will not scream

.” As he pulled her out of the bar, her eyes wide with fear,

 the boyfriend tried to stop him. Jackson flung him

against the wall like a rag doll. He raced into the woods with

the red head in tow, then stopped and viciously bit into her neck.

This one would not feel euphoria, only pain and terror.

 It wasn’t until her body went totally limp in his arms

 that he realized just how small she was. He had taken

 way too much blood. Dear God, he thought, I’ve killed her.

 He calmed himself enough to listen for a heartbeat.

It was there but faint and thready. He threw her over his shoulder,

 ran to his car, put her in, and raced home.

Jackson burst through the door with the girl in his arms screaming,

 “Sarah! Help! Hurry!” Sarah ran down the stairs, frightened.

 He sounded desperate. When she got to the drawing room,

Jackson was laying the redhead on the sofa.

“My God, what happened?”

“I took too much blood, she’s dying. We need to transfuse her.”

“What? How?” Sarah could not find a way to make sense of this.

“Sarah please, we have to hurry,” Jackson begged.

She snapped out of it and made herself think straight.

“What type is she?”

“I don’t know.”

“What? How can you not know?” Jackson had nearly drained

her of blood, but he was in such a rage he hadn’t even paid attention.

 Sarah saw the look of self-loathing in his eyes so she didn’t wait

 for an answer. She put her hand on his arm and said,

 “We’ll just use O, go find some in the fridge.

 I’ll get the IV started.”

He came back with a bag quickly. “Start this and I’ll get some more

.” Sarah connected the bag to the tubing and watched the blood

flow down. When the tube was full she connected it

 to the IV she had put in the girl’s arm. The blood starte

d to flow into her vein. Jackson

 took a deep breath “I’ll get the rest.”

Sarah stopped him. “We’ve got a while before this one’s empty.

Let’s sit for minute.”

“Please, just let me get the blood first, I want it all ready.”

“Okay, go ahead.” Sarah could see he wasn’t thinking rationally.

 If it helped to get all the blood now, so be it.

Hopefully they would get to use it. She looked down at the girl.

She was so small and so pale. She knew if the girl died,

Jackson would never forgive himself.

 How could this have happened?

Jackson stood in front of the open refrigerator,

 taking out bags one at a time, tasting them then either putting

 them back or on the table. When he had five bags of type O

, he picked them up and went back to the drawing room.

 “This should be enough, shouldn’t it?”


“Plenty.” He was numb. He stood looking at the girl.

 Sarah asked, “What’s her name?”

“I don’t know.”

Sarah could feel the tears welling up. She wanted to scream,

 “You have proba bly killed this poor girl and

you don’t even know her name!” She turned to Jackson.

She could see that he was thinking the same thing.

 She put her arms around him “We’ve done all we can.

Now we wait.” Sarah led him to a chair, then got them both drinks.

 Jackson sat, never taking his eyes from the bag of blood.

He would be ready to change it the instant it was empty.

They sat, waiting for the girl to show signs of life.

Sarah silently gave thanks that Connor had left. He never

could have handled this scene. Halfway through the third bag,

 the girl let out a soft moan. Jackson jumped up and

 listened to her heart. “It’s getting stronger.

 I think she’ll make it. She can’t see me when she wakes,

 she’ll freak out. You’re going to have to influence her

 to trust me and not be scared of me.”

“Then what?”

“I’ll take care of the rest.”

When the girl woke, Jackson went to the kitchen.

Sarah made her forget the attack and think she had an accident.

 Her name was Lisa. It was 3:30 in the morning by the time

 she was well enough to move. Jackson took her home

 and influenced her to believe that there was no accident.

 She had left the bar with him willingly and gone to the casino.

 As she was getting out of his car he said,

 “Don’t forget your winnings” and handed her

 a wad of thousand dollar bills. She smiled and blew him a kiss.

On the way home Jackson cursed himself for his lack of self-control.

He wanted to curse Elisabeth; blame her for the whole mess,

though he knew it was entirely his fault. How did he

 let her get under his skin like that?

How could he turn into such a monster?

Sarah was waiting for him when he got home.

As they sat on the sofa he thought of the girl who

 was here just hours before, clinging to life because of him.

 He put his head in his hands. Sarah put her arms around him.

“She’s going to be fine, you know that.”

“Yeah but what if…”

Sarah stopped him, “There is no ‘what if’.

 She is fine and that’s all there is.”

Jackson looked up at her, “Thank you. You saved her.”

“We saved her.”

“Yeah, after I almost killed her.”

“Almost only counts in horseshoes. We need to concentrate on reality,

 not what could have been.”

Jackson forced a smile.

 “This is quite a turn around, isn’t it?”

“Never a dull moment in Transylvania.” Sarah quipped.

 After a prolonged silence Sarah hugged him,

“It might help if you talk about it you know.”

“I don’t even know where to start.”

“The beginning is always a good place.”

Jackson slowly went through the whole story with her.

There were no “OMGs” or “you’re kiddings” today.

Only quizzical and sad looks. When he had finished,

 Sarah waited a moment then brought her hands together.

“What’s done is done. Lisa will be fine and there is nothing

we can do about the past. I think we should concentrate on

 this Elisabeth. Something just doesn’t add up here.

” Her cell phone rang. It was Conner. Jackson was close enough

 to hear both sides of the conversation. Connor said he would be

 by to pick her up in an hour. Sarah said, “Something’s come up

 and I need to stay home today. Can I call you later?”


Jackson was flapping his arms and mouthing, “GO! Go!”

She shook her head. “I’m fine. Jackson’s had a rough night

 and I want to make sure he’s ok.”

Connor said, “That’s funny.

 I didn’t think he had rough nights, just gave them.”

Jackson twisted his face in a mock laugh and slapped his knee.

 Sarah ended the call with, “Ok I’ll call you later. I love you.

” She hung up the phone and pointed a finger “Not a word!

” Jackson pretended to zip a zipper across his lips.

 He was getting his sarcasm back. She took that as a good sign.

 He didn’t press her anymore to leave.

He really did need to sort through this with her.

“Are you sure she isn’t a vampire?”

“Positive. She smelled amazingly human, only more so.”

“Maybe she has some scent masking thing.”

“What, like a cloaking device? That’s ridiculous.

 Plus she was warm, real warm.”

“Oh, yeah. Are you sure you locked eyes with her?”

“Absolutely.”

“Maybe she had some kind of contacts that blocked you.”

“Hmm, do you think? That would account for the specks swirling too

, wouldn’t it? And the incredible color.

” Jackson was lost in remembering her.

Sarah stood up and exclaimed, “You have feelings for this woman!”

He snapped out of it,“What? No!”

“Yes, you do. Don’t think for a minute you can bullshit me on this!”

Jackson got up without saying a word. He poured another drink,

 started to head to his seat then turned around and grabbed

 the bottle and brought it with him. Sarah was smiling at him.

He snarled at her and sat down.

Sarah crooned, “Mayyyybe she’s your soul mate and that’s

 why you can’t influence her.”

Jackson flopped his head back “Kill me now, please!

 If you’re gonna get all happily-

ever-after on my ass, I’m outta here.”

“All right, all right, then you tell me. What do you feel about her?”

“I feel like she fucked with my head.”

“Exactly, and why do you think she had that ability?

 If there wasn’t something special about her, you would have said,

 ‘This isn’t worth the effort’ and moved on.”

She had a point. He would have liked to think it was his ego

that caused his rage, but he knew

it was something much more complicated

. Even when he was driving the redhead home,

 he couldn’t get Elisabeth out of his head. Her eyes, her hair,

those legs, the way she moved, her full, rich voice,

 but mostly that feeling when he looked in her eyes.

It was as if she could see his soul.

“Well, it doesn’t matter anyway, I don’t even know her last name.”

“If it’s meant to be, you’ll find her again.”

He scowled at her, “You’re an idiot.”

Jackson was starting to feel a little more at ease.

 He still was guilt-ridden over the redhead, but comforted

himself by picturing her counting the money; thinking fondly

of the great night at the casino with that sexy

guy whose name she couldn’t remember. Her biggest

 problem now would be explaining things to her boyfriend,

who was probably still nursing his wounds.


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مُساهمةموضوع: رد: Music of Souls روايه باللغه الإنجليزيه   Music of Souls روايه باللغه الإنجليزيه Emptyالأربعاء أغسطس 14, 2013 3:13 am

 
Chapter 6




It had been five days since Jackson met Elisabeth.

 He still couldn’t get her out of his head. Thoughts of her invaded him constantly

. These feelings were totally foreign and unwelcome.

 He wished he could erase his memory of her. Whenever he hunted,

 he compared his victims to her. No one cam e close. He wasn’t having

 much fun and on three occasions, merely influenced his victims, quickly fed,

 and made them forget him. The rest of the time he was just going

 through the motions. The fun ones seemed so stupid,

they were pitiful and the smart ones were so tedious, he wanted to scream.

 His head wasn’t in the game. How could this woman have done such a number

 on him in the span of five minutes? Her essence had gripped him;

 she was haunting him. He also kept having that damn dream.

The only relief he found was in composing. If nothing else,

 all this upheaval had given him back his musical voice

. He was finding plenty to say.

He decided to take a walk to Coronet Park, grabbing a bag of bread

on his way out for the ducks. Walking a path that headed to the pond,

 he got the distinct smell of human. Must be crowded here today,

 he thought. As he came through the clearing to where

 the park benches were, he realized there was only one person here.

 There, on the bench with her back to him, sat Elisabeth.

He knew by both her scent and the fire running though her hair.

 He stopped, frozen in his tracks. Jackson felt something

he had not felt in many, many years—fear. He was totally unnerved.

 He could not let himself lose it again, yet knew he had to speak to her;

 see if he could figure her out. He approached her from

 the side and noticed she had a sketchpad. She was intently drawing—an artist?

 When he got close enough for her to hear him,

but not so close to spook her, he tried to sound nonchalant,

“Fancy meeting you here.” She quickly closed her sketchbook

 and turned to face him with a shocked look.

 So much for not spooking her.

Hello,” she said while clutching her sketchpad as if her life

 depended on it. He found that strange. Maybe she was

 as possessive of her art as he was of his music.

He motioned to the bench next to her. “Do you mind?” he asked.

She shrugged. Looking at the bag, she tilted her head slightly

“You don’t strike me as the type to feed ducks.”

He sat down, “Oh, I have friends here.” Ducks had started

 to make their way toward him. Jackson began tossing pieces of bread.

 He couldn’t remember ever feeling this nervous.

 “I tried to follow you the other night to apologize for my behavior.”

Really? Do you do that often?”

“No, I don’t.” He inhaled deeply. “The truth is I am very attracted

 to you and I thought you shared that attraction.

 I’m sorry I jumped to that assumption.”

“Apology accepted. I’m sure you don&r squo;t

 get rejected very often.”

He shrugged his shoulders,

 “Apparently, only when it really matters to me.”

Elisabeth blushed a little and loosened her grip on the sketchpad. “Sidwell.”

“Excuse me?”

“My name is Elisabeth Sidwell.”

“Happy to make your acquaintance Miss Sidwell.

” She turned her head with a questioning look,

 he sounded noble, not at all sleazy like the other night.

 Jackson was wondering what was different about her as well.

She seemed much less guarded than when they met.

She had lost that edginess and was even more beautiful than he remembered.

There was a moment of awkward silence, then Jackson said

“I’m sure you know what your name means.”

“Yes I do.”

“And are you?”

She dropped her eyes and blushed a little more “Oh no, not at all.

” Elisabeth means “God’s promise”

“Maybe you’re not the best judge of that. I’m sure at least two people

think you are: your mother and father.”

“Yeah, there are two.”

“I bet there are a lot more than that.”

“Doubtful.” Another awkward silence.

 
She paused for a moment then said, “I’m not looking for a relationship.

Especially with a player.”

He clutched his chest, “Ouch!” She laughed that laugh again.

 He smiled at her, “You have the most wonderful laugh

 I have ever heard.”

Her eyes dropped, “Look, things would not work out

 with us for many reasons,

 so I think we should quit while we’re ahead.”

He started to panic and wanted to beg right there,

 but knew he had to get a grip if he was to have any chance with her.

He forced an easy smile “Come on, one dinner, no expectations.

” Elisabeth had put her sketchbook down on the bench.

Jackson grabbed it and said, “We’ll talk about your art.”

“Give me that!” She said with urgency.

Jackson jumped away as she grabbed for it. He needed to see this now.

Why was she so freaked out? So what if it wasn’t any good.

He didn’t care, he just wanted to know all he could about her.

As she kept trying to grab the pad, Jackson avoided her reach

 and flipped through it. There were a few landscapes that were quite good,

 then he opened the page to a perfect likeness of himself.

 He stared incredulously at it for a moment then turned to her.

 Her head was down, avoiding his shocked eyes. “You did feel it!

” She was silent. He bent down in front of her and held her shoulders.

 “Look at me! Elisabeth, please look at me!” She slowly raised he

r head and met his gaze. “Tell me, do you feel that?”

She barely whispered, “Yes.” Jackson smiled at her then kissed her.

 Kissing had always been merely a means to an end for Jackson

, but not with Elisabeth. He felt as if they were melting in to each other,

 and rather than looking for what could come next, he was content

 to just stay i n this moment with her

. Elisabeth pulled away, “I can’t do this.”

He felt like he had been slapped in the face

 “What? What do you mean?”

“I told you, I’m not looking for a relationship.”

He wanted to scream, he wasn’t used to women challenging him

 this way and was at a loss for how to turn this around.

He ran both hands through his hair, exasperated

 “You said you felt what I felt and you’re sitting here drawing portraits of me.

 I can’t get you out of my head. Don’t you think we owe it

to ourselves to figure out what all this means?”

“It couldn’t work.”

“Why not?”

“It’s complicated.”

“Life is complicated, you can’t let it stop you from living.

” He couldn’t even begin to think how she would react to his secret.

 They were both quiet for a long while. Jackson finally took her hand

 and gently kissed her knuckles, “Please, please have dinner

with me tonight. No pressure. We’ll keep it light.

 Just get to know one another. Please?”

“Do you think you’re capable of that, keeping it light?”

“You have my word.”

“All right then, one dinner.”

Relief washed over him and he instantly relaxed, hopeful,

“Want to take a walk with me?”

“I better get going,”

His heart sunk once again. “Okay, I’ll pick you up at seven then

.” Elisabeth ripped off a piece of sketch paper and wrote down her address.

 They touched fingers briefly as he took the paper. He wanted to linger there,

 feeling her warmth, but she quickly pulled away. He gave her a half smile

 “This wouldn’t be fake now would it?”

She laughed that laugh again.“Curses, caught in the act.”

 He desperately wanted to kiss her, but resisted.

 He knew there was a delicate balance between them

and with one misstep he could lose her.

 She said, “Goodbye” and walked away.

Jackson stood watching her, filled with emotion he could


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chapter 7

 
Sarah was in the kitchen when Jackson returned home,

 “Get ready to say I told you so.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve just come from the park where I met Elisabeth Sidwell.”

“Oh my God!” She started to jump up and down clapping her hands.

 “I knew it, I knew it.”

Jackson smirked, “You did not, you wished it.”

“I think you owe me an apology Mr. Cynic.”

He rolled his eyes, “I’m sorry I called you an idiot.”

“What happened?”

“We’re having dinner tonight.”

“Yeah!” She clapped her hands again, “Okay, spill it.”

Jackson touched her arm, “Would you mind if I kept this one to myself?”

Sarah’s face went blank for a second. Jackson always shared

 his conquests with her. She broke into a huge smile

and started to sing “You oo oo love her.”

Jackson dropped his head back and groaned,

“I am living with an eternal teenager. God help me.

” Sarah smacked his arm and took off to get ready

 for Connor’s arrival.

Jackson had a few hours before he needed to shower.

He poured a drink and started to think about how he was going to feed.

The last thing he wanted was to be lusting for blood

while he was with Elisabeth. He couldn’t even think

about feeding on another woman today.

 He wanted her, only her. This is going to be tough,

 he thought as he went to Sarah’s fridge to get some swill.

When Sarah came downstairs,

 he was sitting with a drink and a glass of blood.

 Sarah mused, “Hmm, slumming it are we?”

“Yeah.” Sarah flashed a You-poor-thing look. “Don’t start with me, Sarah.”

She picked up the glass of blood, “This looks kind of thin.”

“I cut it with Belvedere, big improvement.”

“You put vodka in your blood?”

“Yeah, try it.”

She took a sip, “Why didn’t I ever think of this?”

“Because you my dear are a masochist.

 I have another idea to improve this crap too.”

“Do tell.”

“We don’t have to store it in plastic. It doesn’t have to be sterile for us.

 We can store it in bottles? That way, no plastic taste.

 Transfer it immediately from the bag you draw it in.”

Sarah pinched her bottom lip with her thumb and index finger,

 “That could work.”

“Of course it would.”

“Guess we should start stock piling bottles.

Shouldn’t take long the way we drink.” They both laughed.

Jackson got up with his glasses and a Cheshire cat grin

 “I have a date to get ready for.”

Sarah was waiting for Connor when she heard strange noises

 coming from Jackson’s room. When she rounded the corner

and got a look she shrieked, “Jesus,

 it looks like a bomb went off in here.”

Jackson had what looked to be every item of clothing

 he owned strewn around the room. He was standing in the middle

 with a suit hanger in his hand. He turned to her

with a pained expression, “Help me.”

Sarah had to stifle a laugh, “Ok honey, let’s take a breath here.

” She walked over to Jackson and took the suit from him, “Look at me.

 If you want to impress this woman, show her what’s in here.

” She held her palm to his chest.


Jackson closed his eyes,

 “And if she doesn’t like what’s in there?”

“She will, if she doesn’t she’s a fool and she doesn’t deserve you.

” Sarah had never seen him like this, never thought she would.

 Sh e was thrilled for him and felt sorry for him at the same time.

 Just then Connor came in and yelled, “Hello.”

“Upstairs in Jackson’s room.” Sarah started to pick up clothes

and put them back in the cavernous, walk in closet.

Connor stood at the door, “What happened here?”

Jackson glared at him as Sarah said, “Jackson is having

 a little trouble deciding what to wear on his date.”

Connor laughed, “All these clothes and nothing to wear. Poor guy.”

Sarah stared at him as if to say, “Are you out of your mind?”

Jackson snarled, “You’re one smart ass remark

 away from a dirt nap, Skippy!”

Connor immediately backed up and said,

“Maybe I should wait downstairs.”

Jackson took a menacing step toward him “You think?”

Sarah knew better than to admonish him for his threat.

She made a mental note to have a talk with Connor about

“poking the bear.”

Sarah picked out an outfit right down to the shoes,

“This will be perfect. She’ll melt when she sees you.”

Jackson hugged her, “Thank you.”

“My pleasure, you need anything else?”

“Got any Valium?”

As he dressed, Jackson couldn’t believe how uncertain he felt.

Christ, I’m like a pimple-faced school boy on prom night.

He checked the mirror one last time and headed for the stairs.

 He thought about what car he would take.

 SHIT! Virtually every car he owned made him look like a “player.

” Sarah and Connor had started a fire and were sitting on the love seat

 in front of it. “Sarah, can I borrow your Lexus?”

“What? You hate that car.” He called it a “geriatric go cart

.” She caught herself and quickly said, “Sure, let me get the keys.

” She found her purse, fished them out and threw them to him.”

“Thanks.”

As he headed for the door Sarah called, “Jackson!”

“Yeah?”

“You look really hot.”

He grinned, “It pays to have a dresser.”

She snuggled into Connor’s shoulder and said,

 “I’m soooo excited for him!”

“Why’s he taking your car?”

“Oh, I guess he thinks she’ll be more comfortable in it.

” She knew the real reason.

Jackson stopped by the florist. “I would like something for a special lady.

Nothing over the top, but something different, elegant.”

“What’s your price range?”

“I don’t have one.”

“Ohhh! In that case, why don’t you tell me a little about her?

Does she like roses?”

“I don’t know. She’s very classy and beautiful.

I’m not thinking roses, too ordinary.”

“I think I might have just the thing.” He went into the back as Jackson paced,

waiting. The florist came back with a delicate star shaped orchid.

 It was pink with white tips, in an antique looking brass planter.

Jackson smiled, “perfect!” The florist beamed.

Jackson stood outside Elisabeth’s house for a minute,

 took a deep breath and rang the bell. She answered quickly.

When she saw the orchid she gasped, “That is gorgeous,

 wherever did you find it?”


“I know a guy.”

She smiled at him, “Come in please.” She took the orchid from him,

 set it on the coffee table, stood back and admired it.

The whole time Jackson was admiring her. Her presence was already

 calming him. She was stunni ng, in a deep wine colored sleeveless

 dress that was very simple, but flattered every aspect of her figure.

 It was obviously hand tailored. She wore a simple choker

 around her neck, a diamond tennis bracelet and silver

strappy heels he was sure he had seen on Sarah. She looked up

 and noticed he was staring at her, “I wasn’t sure what would be

 appropriate attire for the restaurant.”

“You’re perfect.”

She dropped her eyes “Thank you. Let me just get a wrap.

” Jackson looked around the room. It was evident that each

 and every item had been carefully chosen. Definitely the home of an artist

. Over the mantle hung a gilt-framed landscape oil.

 It was a fall scene that captured all the colors he so loved.

He was admiring it when she returned. “All set” she said.

“This is beautiful. I don’t see a signature. Do you know who the artist is?

” She didn’t answer. He turned to her and knew immediately

 by her blush that it was hers. “My God, you’re amazing!”

“That’s one of my favorites.”

“Do you have more here I can see?”

“Maybe some other time, shouldn’t we be going?”

Jackson wanted to press her, yet thought better of it.

 “Ok, but I’m going to hold you to that.

” He took her wrap and put it around her, letting his fingers

linger briefly on her bare, warm shoulder. He heard a slight intake

 of breath from her and wondered if she felt the same spark he did.

The restaurant was close by so the ride there consisted of

small talk about the weather, when peak foliage would be

 and how much they both loved New England. Jackson had picked

 a restaurant with a bar area that had dancing.

 He was hoping to dance with her after dinner.

 As the maître d’ lead them to their table, Jackson was acutely

aware of all the heads turning to watch them.

Elisabeth didn’t seem to notice, Could she possibly be oblivious

 to how beautiful she is? He had requested a table in a corner of the room,

 away from wait staff traffic to and from the kitchen.

They ordered drinks and opened their menus.

“Anything jumping out at you?” he asked.

“I think I might get the prime rib.”

“Really?” Most women on a first date would order a piece of fish

 or even a salad and end up pushing it around their plate.

She was ordering a big slab of meat.

 She was surprising him at almost every turn.

“Why, is that not a good choice here?”

“No, no it’s very good here.” He slapped his menu closed, “Prime rib it is.

” They made small talk, questioning each other about the basics of their lives.

 She made her living selling her art and guest lecturing at colleges.

 She moved here a month ago, so was unfamiliar with the area.

Jackson told her he and his sister moved back to Fairhaven three months

 ago and that their home had been in the family for generations.

His story being that their family was in oil and real estate

and he managed some of their holdings.

“So, you’re really wealthy then?”


“Yes, you could say that.” He could tell she wasn’t impressed.

Jackson wanted to ask her so many more personal questions.

 He wanted to know her deepest thoughts and feelings.

 Why she was drawing his likeness in the park,

and how she reme mbered his every feature after seeing him

so briefly in a dark bar. He wanted to ask what she thought

 was happening every time they looked in each others eyes.

Most of all, he wanted to tell her that he had never met a women

 who affected him the way she did and he wanted to spend time

 with her, lots of time. He had promised to keep tonight light,

and would, but it was killing him. Their food came

and they continued to chat about unimportant things

 with awkward silences filling the spaces.

 Jackson couldn’t take it any longer. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Are you having as much difficulty

 keeping this night casual as I am?”

She stared down at her plate for what seemed like an eternity.

 She finally lifted her head to meet his gaze,

“I need it to be this way.”

“Why?”

She looked distressed and softly pleaded, “Please?”

Jackson could see she was ready to come unglued, but why?

 Was she afraid he would hurt her? Was she involved with another man?

 He was torn between wanting to shake her and scream,

“Tell me!” and wanting to take her in his arms and comfort her.

 He knew he could do neither, so gently took her hand, “I’m sorry.

 The last thing I want to do is upset you.” They were quiet for a few minutes.

 “Would you like dessert?”

“No, I’m full.”

“How about cappuccino or an after dinner drink?”

“A glass of port would be nice.”

Jackson ordered two, then stood and said, “Let’s dance while we’re waiting

.” The band had started to play “The Way You Look Tonight.

” He couldn’t have chosen a more appropriate song.

Elisabeth blushed, “Oh, I’m not a very good dancer.”

Jackson took her hand, “Well, I am. All you have to do is let me lead.

 Come on, they’re playing our song.” She stood up and let him

 lead her to the dance floor. He stretched his long fingers across

 the small of her back and took her hand. He started to glide

 her across the floor easily. She was light as a feather

 and moved freely with him. He pulled her closer and whispered,

 “Not a good dancer, my ass.”

She laughed softly, “You’re doing all the work.”
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Jackson closed his eyes to fully appreciate her scent.

 There was something more than what he remembered.

A faint floral smell, however, it was not perfume.

It was natural and so minimal he had to search for it.

 “What kind of perfume are you wearing, it’s wonderful.”

“I’m not wearing any, most perfumes give me a headache.

 I only use unscented products.”

“Well you smell delicious.” Without having to look,

 he knew she would be blushing. Jackson was experiencing emotion

 completely unknown to him. He should be fighting bloodlust by now,

 yet it simply was not there, replaced by longing for something more,

 a yearning to be part of this woman, to be everything to her and for her.

 He felt both enchanted and tortured by the heady

 mix that was Elisabeth Sidwell, “God’s Promise.”


When the song ended they stood motionless.

 Neither wanted to break their embrace. Finally Elisabeth said,

 “Our port is here.” and pulled away. They sat, not speaking

 but it wasn’t awkward any longer. They had made a connection

on the dance floor that stayed wit h them.

When they finished their drinks and were waiting for the check

 Jackson asked, “Why did you lie about dancing?”

“Because I was afraid to get close to you.”

He took her hand, “And are you still afraid to get close to me?”

“Not as much.”

While driving her home Jackson asked Elisabeth

 if she would take a ride to the Berkshires with him

 the following day. “I’ll bring a picnic.”

“Sounds nice.” He knew, as he walked her to the door,

 she wouldn’t ask him in. Elisabeth said,

 “Thank you, I enjoyed tonight very much.”

“Me too. Elisabeth, will it upset you if I kiss you?”

She raised her face and kissed him softly, lingering for just a moment.

 “Goodnight Jackson.” She turned and hurried into the house.

Driving home Jackson felt oddly happy.

 He should be feeling frustrated and confused, however,

 he was certain Elisabeth cared for him, and for now,

 that was enough. Patience was never his strong suit,

 but he was certain if he didn’t give this woman the space

 she needed, she would be gone.

Sarah heard Jackson come in and jumped out of bed to get a report.

 “What are you doing?” Mumbled a waking Connor.

“Jackson’s home. I can’t wait to hear about his date.”

“Sarah, give the guy a break. I’m sure the last thing he wants to do right now

 is give you a blow-by-blow description of his date.

Come back to bed.”

Sarah almost protested, but remembered this morning’s reticence.

 “Maybe you’re right.” Meanwhile, Jackson was in the drawing room

 having another blood cocktail waiting for the onslaught that never came.

 After about ten minutes, he thought Maybe she got the hint this morning.

 and headed upstairs.


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Chapter 8



As Sarah started down the stairs to make breakfast she heard the piano,

 very softly but definitely playing. She stood at the doorway,

 shocked that Jackson was unaware of her presence. “Morning.”

He jumped and turned to her. His face showed amaze ment that

 she had snuck up on him as well “Hi, guess I was somewhere else.”

“Hmmm, I wonder where?” It was obvious that Jackson was composing,

 there was staff paper all over and he was holding a pencil between his teeth.

 Sarah pointed to the piano, “Looks like you found something to say.”

A sheepish smile tugged at his lips as he raked his fingers

 through his hair, “Yeah, I guess.”

“Have you been at this all night?”

“Yes.”

“How was your date?”

“Wonderful.”

“Care to share?” Jackson knew he had to give her something or she would burst,

 and, truth be told, he was proud of her for acting so casually when

 he knew every fiber of her being wanted to jump up and down screeching.

 “Tell me, tell me!”

He pondered on what information to give her, wanting to disclose

 as little as possible yet satisfy her need for details.

 “We’re going to the Berkshires for a picnic today.”

“Ohhh, how nice.”

“And we danced to The Way You Look Tonight.”

Sarah put both her hands over her chest and exclaimed, “How romantic!”

 She waited, hoping for more. When it didn’t come, she asked,

“Want some breakfast? I’m making omelets.”

“No thanks, but could you do me a huge favor?”

“Sure, what?”

“Make up a picnic basket for me?”

“Of course.” Sarah loved a project; he could see the wheels turning.

 “What time are you leaving?”

“About 11:00.”

“Oh, I better get moving.”

As she twirled to leave Jackson asked, “Hey, where were you last night?”

“Connor said to leave you be.” And she was off.

Hmm, maybe Skippy’s got more brains than I give him credit for.

Connor came down to the kitchen looking for Sarah.

 The scene he found certainly wasn’t breakfast. “Um, is there coffee?”

“Oh, Sweetie, I’m sorry, I forgot about breakfast.”

“That’s Ok, are we going on a picnic?”

She grabbed his shoulders, gyrated a bit and squealed “Jackson and Elisabeth are.

 It’s going to be perfect! I have to be at the market as soon as it opens.

 Be back soon.” She kissed him on the cheek and was out the door.

 Connor shook his head with a half smile and started to make coffee.

A few minutes later Jackson came in, “Where’s Sarah?”

“Gone to the market.”

“Oh jeez, I’m sorry. Looks like you didn’t get your omelet.”

“Don’t sweat it. She’s having a blast.”

“I heard you ran interference for me last night.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Thanks.”

“Sure.”

Jackson grabbed a cup of coffee and went to shower. When he was ready

to leave he went to the kitchen. Sarah was sitting on the counter

 with one leg on either side of Connor. He had his arms

 around her kissing her.

Jackson growled, “Get a room, would you?”

Connor quickly pulled away and backed up. Sarah threw her head back laughing

, “Connor, he’s not my father!”


Jackson gave him the ,“I’m watching you” hand signal and let out

a low chuckle. “This all set?” He asked, looking at the basket.

“Yep.”

“Thanks, you’re a doll.”

As he headed for the door, Sarah called “Don’t forget

 tomorrow night’s the full moon.”

“Oh shit. I did forget.”

Vampires are nearly impossible to kill. A wooden stake through the heart

 will kill them, but only another, older vampire has the speed or strength

to do that. A werewolf at the full moon, when they are morphed,

will rip a vampire apart. They are mortal enemies. Consequently,

 Sarah and Jackson always stayed in the night of the full moon.

They’d make it a game night or sit around getting wasted on twenty year old

scotch recounting countless, crazy times they had through the years.

Jackson had hoped to make plans with Elisabeth,

 but he could not very well ask her over and say,

“Don’t mind the steel shutters on all the windows.”

Sarah called, “Jackson, bring Elisabeth for dinner on Saturday.

 I have to meet her.”

“We’ll see.”

“Don’t give me that. Make it happen.”

Jackson’s anticipation grew as he neared Elisabeth’s house.

When he rang the bell he heard her yell, “Come in. I’ll be right there.

” While waiting he noticed the orchid was gone. That was strange,

 he was sure she liked it. Elisabeth came into the room and once again

took his breath away. She walked straight

to him and kissed him on the cheek. “How are you today?”

“Great. You?”

“Wonderful. It’s a perfect day for a picnic, don’t you think?”

“Couldn’t be better. Hey, what happened to the orchid?”

“Oh, I moved it.”

“Where?”

“Um, to another room.” She looked uncomfortable.

“Elisabeth, if you don’t like the orchid, it’s okay,

 my ego isn’t that fragile.”

“Oh no, it’s not that at all!” She hesitated then said,

“It’s in my studio; I’m painting it.”

He smiled, “Can I see it?”

“It’s such a beautiful day. Let’s not waste any of it in a stuffy studio.

” She had opened the door.

He arched an eyebrow, “You are very skilled at avoidance, you know.”

She took his arm. “Let’s go. The leaves are waiting for us.”

Jackson drove a Porsche 911 turbo. He chose it mostly for color.

 It was white, the least showy. As they approached it,

 Elisabeth let out a whistle, “Nice wheels.”

Jackson laughed and thought,

Guess I could of brought the red Testarossa/

“Why are you laughing?”

He shook his head, “You are full of surprises.” Elisabeth wondered

 whether he meant that she liked cars or that she could whistle like a guy.

 He opened the door for her with a warm appreciative smile,

“Your chariot awaits.”

In the car, she looked a like a kid in a candy store, “I’ve never ridden

 in a 911 before.” She was looking over the console at all the gauges,

“How fast does it go?”

“Fast enough. Would you like to drive it?”

Her eyes widened, “Oh, no! I would be too worried I’d hit something.”

Jackson’s smile broadened; he was thinking how much fun it would be

 to watch her as she ran from car to car in his stable “oohing” and “ahing.”


“We’ll find an open road for you.”

They chatted comfortably during the ride. There was no awkwardness today.

Jackson couldn’t help but feel Elisabeth had decided to let her guard down

 and give him a chance. He hoped he wouldn&rsquo ;t blow it.

 “Where are we picnicking?” She asked.

“I thought we would go to Mount Greylock. Someday, when there is a concert,

 I would love to bring you to Tanglewood, today Mount Greylock will be better.

” He thought about how it would feel to sit holding her on the lawn,

 listening to the Boston Pops. It suddenly occurred to him that

 he wasn’t sure if she even liked music. How sad he would be

 if she didn’t care about the one thing that defined him.

 “Do you like classical music?”

“I love all kinds of music.” He took her hand to his lips

 and kissed her knuckles.

Jackson pulled the car into a spot, stepped out, opened the door

 for her and grabbed the basket. He looked down at her feet,

 and after noting she was wearing sneakers said,

 “You up for a little hike first?”

“Sure.”

He took her hand. They walked a path for a while then came to a clearing.

 “Here we are.”

“Oh Jackson, it’s beautiful, you can see forever!”

“I don’t know about forever, but you’d be hard pressed to find

 a better view than this.” He laid the blanket out and sat.

 Elisabeth was standing, transfixed on the vista before her.

Jackson left her to her thoughts for a while then said,

“You want to sit down or shall I bring your food to you.”

She snapped out of her trance, “Sorry” she laughed, “I got lost for a minute.

” Jackson felt an intense wave of emotion for her.

He loved that she appreciated the beauty of this place and her laugh

 warmed him in a way he had never experienced.

“Let’s see what we’ve got here.” He opened the basket.

There were linen napkins, two china plates and champagne flutes on top,

 “Looks like we’re having champagne.”

Elisabeth peeked in the basket, “Wow, did you pack this?”

“No, Sarah did. Martha Stewart’s got nothing on her.

” There were exotic cheeses, a crusty baguette, hard salami and melon

wrapped in prosciutto. A bakery box held four small French pastries.

 At the bottom of the basket was a bottle wrapped in ice.

Jackson unwrapped it and held up a bottle of Cristal.

Elisabeth quipped, “A little over the top for a picnic,

 wouldn’t you say?”

He rolled his eyes, “Everything Sarah does is over the top.

 Speaking of Sarah, she wants you to come for dinner Saturday.”

“Oh, I don’t think so.” He could tell she was thinking,

 Too soon to meet the family.

He squinted his eyes, “She is going to nag me incessantly until she meets you.

 She may even hunt you down.” He folded his hands in prayer,

 “I implore you, put me out of misery?”

She laughed, “When you put it that way, how can I refuse.”

“Good then, I’ll pick you up at 6:00.”

“No, I can drive, just text me the address.” He almost protested,

 but thought she might want control of when to leave, so let it be.

After they had eaten, they walked some more, holding hands.

 As Jackson was packing up the basket, Elisabeth stood again looking over

 the valley. He could tell she was as sad to see this day end as he.

 He went to her, held her close, and kissed her temple,

“I will bring you back here whenever you want.”


She smiled up at him warmly, “Thank you for a perfect day.”

He brushed her face with the backs of his fingers, “It’s only perfect

 because I’m with you.” She dropped her eyes and tensed slightly.

Jackson let her go, real izing she was uncomfortable.

As they neared the car, Jackson held the keys up and said, “You drive.”

“Oh, no, I couldn’t.”

“Yes you can, and you will. Come on, I’m insured.

Can you drive a stick?”

“Yes.”

“Then let’s go.” As she got in the drivers seat, Jackson could see

 she was nervous but excited. It took her a few minutes to get used to

the gearing, but she was shifting smoothly much quicker than he expected.

 He had thought he would be putting a new clutch in this car next week.

“Elisabeth, what kind of car do you drive?”

“A Jaguar XKR-S.”

“WHAT?” He started to laugh hysterically. “You are something else!”

The ride home was mostly quiet. They both were reflecting on how easy

 it was to be together, and Jackson was enjoying watching her drive.

 He wanted to tell her all he was feeling for her, but knew he had pushed her

 a little too far already today. When he walked her to the door she turned

 and said, “Would you like to see my studio?”

He grinned sardonically “Nah, not really interested,

 maybe some other time.”

She slapped his chest with both hands and laughed,

 “That’s just mean!”

He took her hands, kissed one and said, “Lead the way Legs.

” The instant the word left his lips he cursed himself.

 Elisabeth took a step back and looked at him quizzically. Jackson grimaced,

 “I’m sorry, that was rude.” He was frantically thinking how to explain

 his comment. He couldn’t very well say “I really am that pig you pegged me for,

just trying to hide it from you babe.”

Elisabeth touched his face “That’s sweet...”

SWEET?! He shook his head wondering if he would ever

truly understand this woman.

They walked through to the back of the house, and where most houses

 would have a deck, there was a large studio. There was professional

 lighting everywhere and lots of glass.

 “Wow! You must have had this built.”

“No, an artist lived here previously. I really lucked out;

 it came on the market right before I arrived.

 Almost like it was meant to be.”

Jackson looked around the room, there were canvases everywhere,

 “Where do I start?”

“It’s a bit messy, I’m going through things.

 I’m having a showing next Friday.”

“You are?”

“Yes, would you like to come?”

“Absolutely.” Jackson started looking through one stack of oils, “You have a gift.

” Seeing her art touched him deeply. She revealed herself in her work

 and Jackson felt an intimacy with her through her art. After about

 a half hour of walking around trying to take everything in Elisabeth said,

 “Pick one for yourself.”

“Really?”

“Yes, I want you to have one.”

He put a hand through his hair, “Man I don’t know if I can.

 They’re all so beautiful, how can I choose?”

“Would you like the landscape over the mantle?”

He stared incredulously, “No, I couldn’t.”

She repeated his words about driving his car, “Yes you can and you will.”


He smiled at her, getting her joke. “Really Elisabeth, that’s one

 of your favorites. I wouldn’t feel right about it.”

She walked to him and took his hands “There is no greater joy

 for an artist than to know their work is in t he hands of someone

 who truly understands it.”

He kissed her gently, “You are a brilliant artist.” Her eyes were warm

and inviting, yet she still pulled away from him. Damn,

he wished he knew why she was so guarded. He felt like they were going

 one step forward, two steps backward. Something caught his eye

 in the far corner of the room, the orchid. It was sitting on a table

 and behind it were two easels and a stool. He nodded at it, “May I?”

“Oh, it’s not done yet, maybe next time.” He started to walk toward the corner

 “Come on, I’d love to see the process.” She was bright red and cringing.

 When he got to the corner, he discovered why. One of the easels

 held the painting of the orchid and on the other was a sketch of himself.

It was not the same one he saw in the park, a different expression.

 He looked up at her and smiled, “Don’t be embarrassed,

 you have no idea how thrilled I am by this.”

“You have very interesting features,

” she said with her eyes at half-mast.

He walked over to her and lifted her chin, “If I could draw,

you would be my favorite subject.” She wouldn’t look him in the eyes.

 He could feel her unease and didn’t want to add to it.

 “Let’s go get my landscape off the wall.”

As he headed into Fairhaven carrying the canvas, Jackson realized with

a start that he had not fed at all today. Normally he wouldn’t go more

 than a few hours without thinking about his next meal,

 but Elisabeth filled his thoughts so thoroughly and completely,

there was not room for anything else. Suddenly he was famished.

 He propped the canvas on the sofa and sat across from it with his blood cocktail.

Sarah had evidently procured some blood today, because there in the fridge

 was a wine bottle full. He knew she would want to finish the bags first,

 but thought, Screw it. It was my idea and I’m really hungry.

 He took a sip and was actually pleased with the flavor. He added a little

 tequila this time and the absence of the plastic improved the taste

more than he expected. He was sitting, reveling in the day and enjoying

 his new art treasure, when he heard Connor’s car come up the drive.

 The two came in laughing and teasing each other. Sarah headed to Jackson

 and upon seeing the landscape said, “That’s beautiful.

Did you get it in Stockbridge?”

“No, it’s Elisabeth’s.”

“What do you mean?”

“She’s the artist and she gave it to me.”

“Oh my God!” She was now standing directly in front of it.

 After a minute she said, “I cannot wait to meet this woman.”

“Oh yeah, she’s coming for dinner.

” Sarah let out a screech to wake the dead.

Connor had gone into the kitchen for a snack and came running,

 “What’s the matter?”

Sarah grabbed him, shaking his shoulders,

“Elisabeth’s coming for dinner!”

“Jesus Sarah, you nearly gave me a heart attack.” Jackson was chuckling.

 It was fun to see someone else deal with the adolescent.


She turned her attention back to Jackson “What shall I make?

 Maybe a tenderloin. Do you know if she likes beef?”

Jackson smiled as he remembered how she had almost polished off

the prime rib. “Oh yeah, tenderloin will work.”

< p class="western">“I’ll do new potatoes and roasted root vegetables.

 For dessert, let’s see. Something decadent and chocolate.

 What do you think?”

Jackson took her hand and kissed it.

 “I think whatever you make will be perfect.

” Sarah was beaming. “By the way, your picnic basket was a big hit.”

“It was romantic, wasn’t it?”

“Very.” He looked at her, expecting the questions to start.

She was biting her lip. Skippy must have read her the riot act.

 Jackson gave him an appreciative glance and said, “My little girl

is growing up.” Sarah smacked him and headed to the kitchen to plan

 her menu. The two men were left alone. After a moment Jackson asked,

 “How are you doing with the whole vampire thing?”

“Ok, I guess, it’s still pretty weird though.”

“You know, you will never find a better woman than Sarah.”

“That’s why I’m still here.”

Jackson collected his painting and glass. As he headed for the stairs,

 he stopped and said, “I think you’re good for her.”

Jackson went back and forth with the canvas from his bedroom to the music room,

 unsure where to hang it. He finally put it over the mantle across

 from his bed, deciding he would buy something Friday for the music room.

 He sat up in bed a long time picturing Elisabeth as she created the oil.

 He thought, This is definitely the right spot for it.

He woke at around 7:00 a.m. from the dream again, What the hell does

 it mean? And why doesn’t it ever change?

Jackson found Sarah sitting in the drawing room sipping coffee.

 “Where’s Skippy?”

“He has an appointment. Would you mind terribly if he joined us tonight?

” The full moon had always been a time that Sarah and Jackson

spent together. They cursed the wolves, but both enjoyed their time

 together being prisoners in their own home.

Jackson said, “No, not at all, I assumed, now that he knows, he’d be here.

 I was planning to work on some music tonight anyway.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.” Sarah felt their relationship was changing.

 She knew it was for the better. She had never seen Jackson so happy

 and at ease and she loved Connor with all her heart, yet she was a little sad,

 feeling they were growing apart. She smiled, thinking of the many times

they played “Wingman” for each other and all the times

 he had helped her through heartache.

That evening, Sarah made a pasta dinner and they all chatted amiably.

 After dinner, Connor helped Jackson put up the shutters, then they sat down

 for a drink. Jackson started a fire, stood looking at it for a few minutes

 then said, “I’m going up, goodnight kids.”

Connor and Sarah were cuddling in front of the fire.

Sarah said, “Listen, can you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

With her sharp hearing she could barely make out the piano

but Connor heard nothing. “It’s so beautiful, almost haunting.”

“What?” Connor turned to Sarah. Her face was wet with tears.

 “Sarah, what’s the matter?”

“Jackson is composing something for Elisabeth.”

cheek, “Nope, she’s more important than that.
He threw up his hands in defeat and went upstairs



Music of Souls روايه باللغه الإنجليزيه 1013972976 


 

 
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مُساهمةموضوع: رد: Music of Souls روايه باللغه الإنجليزيه   Music of Souls روايه باللغه الإنجليزيه Emptyالأربعاء أغسطس 14, 2013 11:48 pm

Chapter 9


 
Elisabeth pulled up the drive at three minutes to 6:00.

 Jackson felt his pulse quicken.

“She’s here!” Sarah exclaimed.

Connor grabbed her arm “Honey, let’s go in the kitchen for a few minutes

 and not bow l the poor woman over before she gets in the door.

” Jackson was starting to like this guy.

He opened the door before she was half way up the walk and as usual

 she left him breathless. As she approached she exclaimed, “What a beautiful estate.

 I have been by before and admired it.”

Jackson kissed her and looked out at the Jaguar, it was blue.

 He repeated her comment about the Porsche, “Nice wheels.”

She laughed, “Maybe I’ll let you drive it one day.”

As Jackson was taking her coat, Sarah came floating into the room.

Connor had lost the battle. He evidently had decided to hang back a little longer.

 “Elisabeth Sidwell--- Sarah Carrington.”

“ Carrington?” Elisabeth noted the different last name.

Jackson pretended to whisper to her, but said loud enough for anyone to hear,

 “Messy divorce. We don’t talk about it.” Sarah glared at him.

She always told people she was a widow.

Sarah took her hand, “How do you do. I’m so happy to meet you.”

“Glad to meet you too. Thank you for inviting me to your home.

” Elisabeth looked at Jackson then back at Sarah, “That’s quite a gene

 pool you two have.”

They all laughed and Jackson said, “Let me get drinks.

” Sarah started making small talk and as Jackson turned he noticed Connor

standing in the middle of the room frozen, staring at Elisabeth.

 He brushed by him on his way to the bar and snarled under his breath

, “You better close that mouth before I shove my fist in it.”

Connor jumped, “Sorry.”

Jackson smiled to himself. He knew there wasn’t a straight man alive

 who wouldn’t have that exact reaction to her. While Jackson made drinks,

Sarah introduced Connor who was thinking, Cripes another one.

 Guess I’m the ugly duckling in this group. Connor Poe was

 a very handsome man by anyone’s standards, the other three were

 in a league of their own.

The drinks were passed out and they sat. Sarah was asking Elisabeth

 about her art when she stopped in mid sentence, looking at her feet,

“Are those the new Zanottis?”

“Yes, I’m a bit of a shoeaholic.”

Sarah jumped up, took both Elisabeth’s hands and screeched, “Come with me!

” As she was practically being dragged up the stairs she looked back at Jackson.

 He shrugged his shoulders as if to say, “Sorry, I can’t help you.”

The two men looked at each other. Connor said, “This can’t be good.”

“Nope.”

“Jackson, I’m really sorry about before. That was pretty rude of me.”

“Don’t worry about it, I was just busting you. You play chess?”

“Yeah.”

“You any good?”

“I was on the chess team in college.”

“Great, how about a match while we wait?”

The men moved to the board. Connor asked “White or black?”

Jackson gave him a “Really?” sneer.

“Right, black it is.”

The women were in Sarah’s shoe closet, which was larger than most bedrooms.

 She had it designed to house her collection. There were shelves running

across every wall from floor to eye level and above each shelf was a hinged

 Plexiglas cover to keep dust off the shoes. Sarah had left her door open

 so Jackson could hear fairly well. There was a lot of “oohing” and “ahhing.

” He heard Sarah screech, “I can’t believe we’re the same size, we can share!

” He had not realized until this moment how important it was to him that Sarah

and Elisabeth like each other. After a while the two came downstairs chatting

away as if they had been friends for years. “Why didn’t you guys get started

 on the appetizers while we were gone?”


“We waited for you.”

“Well, I’ve got to get to the kitchen, eat up.”

Elisabeth started towards her, “Let me help.”

“Absolutely not, you stay here with Jackson. Connor come help me please.

” He looked up, bewildered. Sarah never let anyone help her cook.

Jackson laughed. He knew the real reason was to tell him everything

she had learned about Elisabeth. Poor guy.

Elisabeth sat next to Jackson. “She’s so sweet.”

He put his arm around her, “You haven’t seen her bratty side yet.”

“It seems like you two have a great relationship.”

“Yeah, we’ve been through a lot together.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Some other time.”

“I’m really glad I decided to come tonight.”

“So am I.” He kissed her temple.

Connor came in to announce dinner. The conversation flowed freely and it was

 clear to Jackson that everyone was enjoying the evening.

He thought of all the years of just him and Sarah, and although he wouldn’t

 have given up those days for anything, he felt this was more like a family,

 closer to what his life was like when he was human. He thought of Emily

 for a moment. He did not allow himself that often. It was still painful.

 He knew she would have liked Elisabeth as much as Sarah did.

Elisabeth must have noticed his intensity of thought. When he looked up

 she was watching him with concern.

He smiled at her and took her hand.

When they had finished dinner and were having port back in the drawing

room Jackson said, “Now that you’ve seen Sarah’s shoe closet,

 would you like to see the rest of the house?”

“I was hoping you would ask.” As they walked from room to room,

it was clear that Elisabeth was more than impressed,

 especially at the artwork. “My God, this is better than going to a museum.

 This must be generations of collecting.”

“Yes, we’re a long line of art lovers.”

When they made their way to Jackson’s room, she immediately noticed her oil

and said, “It looks better there than on my mantle.”

He smiled, “First and last thing I see every day.” For a moment

Elisabeth looked like she might cry. He took her hand,

 “I’ve saved my favorite room for last.”

As he opened the door and she got a glimpse of the music room,

 he heard her sharp intake of breath. “Is that a Steinway?”

“Yes it is.” He was about to ask if she played, but she was already looking at

the ceiling saying, “My God, that’s hand carved.” She walked to the music

 cabinets and ran her hands across the top, “Exquisite.” She turned to Jackson,

“I can see why you saved this for last.”

Sarah was listening downstairs and when she knew they were

 in the music room she grabbed Connor’s hand and said, “Come on.”

“Where are we going?”

“We’re going to get Jackson to play for Elisabeth.” The two were at the door

when Sarah crooned, “Jackson promised he would play for us tonight.

 Wouldn’t you like to hear him Elisabeth?”

He shot daggers at her as Elisabeth said, “I would love to.”

“Next time,” he said.

Sarah argued, “Oh, come on. The lava cakes won’t be ready for another half hour.

 We won’t take no for an answer, will we Connor?”


He looked at Jackson, “Sorry man.” Elisabeth didn’t say a word.

 She could see Jackson didn’t want to play, but she really wanted to hear him

and she had a feeling Sarah would win in the end.

“Fine!” Sarah and Connor sat down but Elisabeth stood at the piano.

Jackson sat down and broke into a spirited arrangement of

“The Entertainer.”

“Come on!” groaned Sarah.
wanted it and she refused, would you do it?”
“Not on your life.”


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