Of Blood & Pearls: A Vampire Romance, Part II

Marcy had an overwhelming feeling of confusion and curiosity welling up inside of her. "Lucas, I don't mean to be rude, but maybe you have me mistaken for someone else? I don't remember ever meeting you before tonight, much less having been together with you." The Irish gentlemen just smiled that sexy smile and Marcy took notice of the slight dimples in his cheeks...could he be any more perfect? But what in the world is he talking about...he must be delusional. And like he was reading her mind, he said to her reassuringly, "I am not delusional...I may sound like a crazy person but we have been together before...you just cannot remember. It was a different life...a different world for you then.

The year was 1318, we were both warriors...you were a Scot and I, an Irishman. Yes, I know what you are thinking...were you not a woman? Well, what most people do not realise is that many Celtic women in the times before Christ fought alongside their husbands and brothers. This tradition carried on for years, even through the Middle Ages...though most historians do not recognize this fact now.

Our paths first crossed in a Scottish town known as Dalkeith...the town in which you were reared. I was there searching for a long lost cousin who had disappeared from Ireland, a decade beforehand. You had beautifully long black hair and piercing hazel eyes...you looked much like you do today. Your name was Marsaili (pronounced Mar-sally), which is Gaelic for 'the pearl.' And you were truly a pearl...one in a million." Lucas reached over slowly and ran his index finger down the strand of pearls, down to the teardrop pearl resting perfectly within the crest of Marcy's pale breasts. She shuddered...

Lucas continued, "We fell in love instantly, and took vows the first week of our love. I was called for by my father, as my brother was dying from the pox and so I returned to Ireland. I had vowed to return and make a home with you in Dalkeith. Upon my arrival in Cork, I learned that our countries were at war...and I was made to join this despiccable war against my will but to uphold my family's honor. Although, I was not aware that you were a warrior...a fierce warrior to aid the Scottish and English in the same battle that I was to fight. There were near ten thousand killed in that battle...the Battle of Fochart...this is the same place where your leader lost his life...to my own sword. It was a bloody battle, indeed. Not two minutes after my sword had pierced the chest of Bruce, I felt a sword enter my chest swiftly. It is hard to describe the feeling of being near death...it was not very painful and the world just sort of turns dark and silent. Unknown to me, you happened by me on horseback...and realized that my body was lying there...motionless...lifeless."

Marcy felt like she had been sucked back in time, she felt as if she was really experiencing this tragic story firsthand. She saw Lucas' gorgeous yet bloody body lying on a hillside amongst other dead warriors...she felt grief and misery rise up inside of her. It hit her like a freight train...she had had a recurring dream very similar to this her entire life, since the age of five! It seemed to start making sense now...it was all coming together quickly and somewhat painfully. Marcy had always believed in reincarnation. She knew Lucas in that life in Western Europe...she knew and loved him with all of her soul...and she had prematurely been ripped away from that love. But this all seemed so surreal...how could all of this be true? Is this a dream? Did he drug her wine before she sat down? Lucas stopped talking for a moment and gazed at her waiting for her approval, and Marcy nodded reluctantly for him to continue...

"You were filled with grief and ran off from the battle...taking shelter in the nearby ruins of Gorlatt. There...you wrote a poem...I guess that it was sort of a goodbye letter to whomever was to find your body. You took your life that same night.

While you were in grieving and my dying body was lying on the foggy hillside, my long lost cousin mysteriously appeared from the fog and bit my neck. He then fed me his blood and rescued me from death's grip...I was grateful to him for saving me so that I could be with you, my love. I knew that even in my new state of being, you would still accept me and we could make a life together. Little did I know until the next morning that you had taken your life...so that you could be with me in the otherworld. Donalde and I found your body at Gorlatt...for Donalde had unspeakable powers of the mind and was able to track your energy." Lucas was telling this story as if it had happened yesterday, although it had taken place almost seven hundreds years before. His sparkly blue eyes seemed as though they were going to leak...

"You were holding the goodbye letter in your hand... the original has withered and deteriorated of course, but I have kept your haunting words in my memory all of this time..."

Suddenly, a wave of doubt washed over Marcy...what if this stranger was deceiving her? Was he trying to brainwash her in some way? There is no way she could be a reincarnated Scottish Warrior from the fourteenth century...that thought was flat-out ridiculous! She stopped Lucas from going any further with his dramatic story, "Mr. McCarthy, I have to stop you right there, please. I realize that you believe that I am this woman, Marsaili, but my name is Marcy. This is all very confusing for me and it's a lot of information for me to absorb. I thank you for your hospitality and a lovely evening, but I need some time to think about all of this." With that, Marcy stood up from the dining table to leave The Winery. Before she could walk away, Lucas gently grabbed her right hand and whispered very understandingly, "I am sorry if I have confused you. That was never my intention, Miss Deltourre. Please call on me if you need anything...I will be staying at Whitting Manor."

There was a cab idling just outside of the Winery's front steps...seemingly like it was there to aid in Marcy's quick departure. The cab ride home felt like a dream and Marcy arrived at her empty house feeling very lost...one part of her was screaming, "This is your soulmate, don't let him get away again!" and the other more grounded part of her was arguing, "How do we know any of these things to be true? He could be a stalker...making up these lies just to get to you." And a vampire? No one really believes in vampires...plus this man had shown her absolutely no proof that he was in fact a seven-hundred-year-old vampire. Marcy barely slept a wink that night, tossing and turning...and stuck in a web of neverending conscious dreams, each dream involving Lucas. Marcy's mind fought fervently with her heart. But the next day would bring another unexpected present from this man, this "vampire" that called himself Lucas McCarthy...

The next morning, Marcy climbed out of bed in a sleepy stupor. She had not barely slept a wink the entire night...arguing with herself whether Lucas was real and whether she really had known and loved him in a past life. Neither her optimistic nor her cynical side had won the debate at that point, which left Marcy feeling very flummoxed. I don't think I've ever been this confused in my life, Marcy thought.

Nevertheless, it was the weekend and Marcy decided to carry on with her normal weekend duties...grocery shopping and maybe cleaning Mrs. Derby's house. She was still pressing onwards towards her goal of opening her vintage store...maybe she would even walk downtown and take a peek at the empty storefront that she had been longing to make her own. Marcy had a small breakfast, though she pretty much had to force down the bagel with light cream cheese...she really felt sick with worry. Why did she feel worried? The optimistic and believing side of Marcy was starting to feel like she had made a mistake...she should not have left her date with Lucas so quickly...she should not have let her critical, pessimistic side take her over. Maybe she should go visit him and ask for another chance? No, she had probably ruined her chances now...

After nearly three hours of cleaning Mrs. Derby's house, Marcy went home and took a second shower...just to get the filth off of her. Mrs. Derby was a sweet old lady that paid more than the average customer; however, her home consisted of nothing but cats and dogs...so one can guess the amount of hair and dirt that has to be scraped off of the floors and furniture on a weekly basis. Immediately following Marcy's refreshing shower, she made a break out the front door and down the old porch steps...feeling somewhat revived...for what the feeling was worth. During her brisk walk to downtown Bath, she could almost hear the oak trees whispering to her...go talk to him. Was she going crazy?

It only took Marcy about twenty minutes of brisk walking to reach downtown Bath...the town of Bath, NY is not that large of a town...yet its beauty is something to be envied. The town is filled with refurbished Victorian homes and world-renowned vineyards. Though it was definitely a small and somewhat boring town, Marcy had loved living here since the day she moved in ten years before, after her mother had passed away. Some sort of old world magic seemed to undulate in the air...and the trees and nature in Bath seemed to really be living a life of their own. Even the brick streets under Marcy's feet seemed to be whispering to her from under her feet...just go to him.

Downtown was busy, as busy as it could be for downtown Bath. Mrs. Canter and the mailman waved to Marcy...and she returned their greetings. Then, there it was. The storefront...still empty...beckoning her to walk in the front door and make it her new home. The For Sale sign was still taped to the dusty front window in place of the Mama's Bakery sign that happily lit the windows for almost thirty years. What would Marcy call her store once she had it? Marsaili's House of Vintage. It did have a very romantic appeal to it...ridiculous...stop thinking this way. Marcy was still fighting the thoughts of Lucas out of her head...trying very much to just forget about the bewitchingly familiar things that Lucas had said to her the night before. Though the harder she tried to shake his words from her thoughts, the more she ended up thinking and fantasizing about his gorgeous face and husky Irish voice. He was like a dream...and you ruined it, Marcy...so stop thinking about him. He wasn't real anyway...no man that gorgeous and well-spoken would ever be interested in you. You get guys more like Kevin...mediocre, cocky and lacking any class or enthusiasm for life. And vampires? Yeah, sure...they exist...

Marcy walked home slowly, trying her hardest to focus on her goals; however, Lucas seemed to keep creeping into her mind. She walked up the front porch steps and opened the screen door...and there it was. An envelope with her name written in the most beautiful cursive penmanship she had ever laid eyes on. It felt like there was something more than paper inside of the envelope...it was an old antique key about the length of her index finger. She opened the folded letter that accompanied the mystery key. This is what she read:

Marcy,

Please forgive me for being so sudden with my courting and story-telling. I have waited almost seven hundred years to be with you again...so if I need to wait another seven hundred...I will. Whenever you are ready to talk, you are welcome to visit Whitting Manor. Below are the words from your goodbye letter, though I am not sure if you will remember:

Broken and bruised, I searched for you in the mist

I've ridden these green hills in search of you and only you

But the bodies lie all around me, they block the paths in need of taking

My soul cries out for your touch

And I find myself alone in this fog once more

All it took was one kiss and our hearts united

Under the red moon, Two warriors...both driven by pride and love

Somehow born to be against one another

Yet love's bright light broke through the darkness for a moment in time

I found my love again...

But now I am lost in this world, as our time together in this life has ran out

I found you lying there...and we are both swimming in our sin

I will find you again...my brave warrior...my eternal love.

I will search the Otherworld for you, until I've found you...even if it is forevermore ."

The words were penned so eloquently on Lucas' letter, and as Marcy read them, a wave of hot chills rushed up her legs and up her body...all the way to the very top of her head. She had to lean her shoulder against the frame of the front door to keep from passing out. It felt as though her blood was running hot inside of her body...she knew these words. She not only knew the words, she had actually written these exact words in her diary when she was seventeen years old...but she always attributed this poem to her creative writing skills and overactive imagination...she never thought they could have had real meaning. There is no possible way anyone had ever had access to her diary...it is locked and no one has ever known the code...nor has anyone ever known that she kept a diary. Not to mention, the diary itself is locked up in a wooden chest in Marcy's attic.

I do know this man...I know this story. I am Marsaili and Lucas is my soulmate. A Vampire? Yes, he must be...but I have to see him...I can't lose him again.

Marcy ran inside and grabbed a heavier coat. She picked up the phone and dialed the cab company. The wait for the cab almost killed her...I've been waiting over six hundred years...I don't want to wait another minute, damnit.

The cab finally rolled up and Marcy raced out the door and flung herself into the back seat. "Whitting Manor, please. As quick as possible." She ran her thumb over the antique key hidden in her peacoat's pocket. During the ride Marcy's impatience grew stronger and stronger...she became more and more anxious...welling with emotions that she had never experienced before...at least not in this life. Not only were the emotions overwhelmingly strong, the passion was rising in her body...a fiery passion that she had also never felt before...is this what it's like to really want someone?

The cab's tires hit the dirt driveway and rolled up to Whitting Manor's front steps...it was growing dark outside and the historical estate's many windows were illuminated with candlelight. Marcy had the butterflies in her stomach again...just like the first time she had met Lucas. She looked down at what she was wearing - white keds, an old pair of faded calvin klein jeans, a plain white tee and her vintage navy blue peacoat. Maybe I should have changed into something sexier before coming over here. Nevertheless, she was there now so there was no turning back. The heavy front doors of Whitting Manor were made of oak and painted a deep brick red. There was no doorbell to ring, but there was an antique bronze knocker engraved with the initial "W". The last time Marcy had been to Whitting Manor was for a field trip in high school...the estate was locally known for its weird history and only the folks who personally knew the Whitting family were ever allowed to stay in the Manor. I wonder how he knows the Whittings?

Marcy calmed her nerves just enough to gently hit the knocker against the door three times. Lucas opened the door, more handsome and happier than she remembered him. Not even a hello was said...Lucas swept her off of her feet, just like in the movies. None of Marcy's ex-lovers had ever attempted to pick her up...it's not that she was heavy...it's just that they were all sort of puny.

As Lucas climbed the creaking stairs with Marcy in his arms, Marcy realized that she was undoubtedly wildly in love with this man and wanted him more than anything. They entered the master bedroom. The room was filled with Victorian-era antiques, the walls still held the rose patterned wallpaper from almost a hundred years before, and there was a pleasant and faint scent of sandalwood...but Marcy barely noticed the details of her surroundings...she was focusing solely on Lucas and the things that she was about to do with him. He hurled her onto the four-post bed and they made love for hours on end...until Marcy could not move.

Lucas never once used his fangs, though the temptation was almost killing him. Her neck was so beautifully pale and seemed to be calling out to him. Her inner thigh enticed him even more, but he did not cave into his animalistic cravings. He could never succomb to these urges...he could not do that to his long lost love. He would not hurt her...at least not without her permission. What he was unaware of was that Marcy was wondering what it would feel like to have his teeth pierce her skin...to feel him suckle the blood from her body...somehow these thoughts did not scare her...they only further ignited her curiosity and desire for Lucas.

The night was drawing to an end, which meant that Lucas would require the blinds to be drawn and he would sleep the day away. He explained to Marcy how some of the old vampire superstitions are true...more specifically a vampire's inability to be in sunlight and the inability to see one's reflection in a mirror. Lucas shared many of his life's stories with her... about how he had searched for her and how Donalde had aided him in his search using his psychic powers. "Tragically, Donalde ended his existence three years ago...I think he was just tired of this world and was ready to move on to another plane," Lucas seemed to be looking off into the distance as he talked of Donalde. To Lucas, Donalde was more than a cousin...he was his best friend but even more than that...Donalde was his maker. Every vampire has a deep connection to his maker...physically, mentally and spiritually.

"You may go, if you'd like. I know our schedules are a bit off, but I would love it if you stayed here with me today," Lucas whispered to Marcy. She did not even have to debate his invitation...she decided to stay with him. They slept together the whole day in one another's arms, occasionally waking up and talking to one another...getting to know one another again. Marcy asked him about the key that was still in her coat pocket, "Is that a key to the front door?"

"No, my love. That is the key to your new store, though if you would like a key to the Manor you may have that, as well," Lucas replied.

Could life get any better? Marcy was so filled with joy...all of her dreams were coming true. She met her soulmate, she was discovering one of the many mysteries about life, and she had a business to call her own.

It had been a whole week following Marcy's passionate night with Lucas, and Marcy had spent the week prepping and cleaning her soon-to-be open vintage store. The old rusty key that Lucas had given her unlocked the front door to a different estate house, just a mile south from Whitting Manor and four miles from Marcy's house. Lucas not only purchased the abandoned estate, but he also had it refurbished in less than a year's time, and he had acquired the proper permit for Marcy to run a business right out of the house. Marcy's dream of having her "House of Vintage" had truly become a reality. She planned on decorating each room in the three story estate house in a specific decade's decor and corresponding vintage clothing. The master bedroom upstairs was going to be designed in a 1940s' style decor with shiny bronze antique racks lining the walls, bearing vintage clothing of all types and sizes from the 40's era. The store's sign had already been erected in the front of the stately mansion. It read, "Marsaili's House of Vintage." Not only had Lucas paid for all of this, he had also purchased a whole supply of vintage and antique clothing from a vendor in the city. Marcy could not get over her excitement...although she wondered how well her business would do in a small, quiet town like Bath.

Finishing up her day's work of prepping for the opening, Marcy had just finished nailing one of her favorite portraits of James Dean to the freshly painted crimson wall in the hallway, when she heard a light tapping noise coming from the back of the house. She set the hammer and nails down on the stairs and listened intently for a second. She began to walk towards the noise but then the tapping ceased. Must be the pipes...this house is almost two hundred years old. Marcy picked up the hammer and nails and walked towards the living room to turn out the lights. She was starting to feel exhausted and her stomach had been grumbling for the past hour. I'll go home and cook some of Aunt Reggie's sausage and kale stew. Maybe I'll save some for Lucas, he'd probably enjoy it. Wait, do vampires eat food? The tapping began again...this time it was louder and quicker. Maybe someone's knocking on the back door? No sooner had this thought crossed Marcy's mind, when an ear-splitting CRASH radiated from the kitchen area located at the back of the house.

Marcy sprinted down the hallway towards the noise and lunged through the kitchen door. "Who the hell are you? This is private property. Leave NOW!" Marcy shouted at the disheveled looking man standing in the middle of her newly tiled kitchen floor. The intruder did not say a word to her but just stared at her with a fierce hatred exhuming from behind his large black eyes. He had apparently broken into the house by jumping through the bay window. She repeated her statement again, screaming at the top of her lungs, "LEAVE NOW!"

The stranger had long black hair, at least halfway down his back that was uncombed and he was wearing clothing that looked like it had been in the ground for centuries...it was like he had crawled directly out of his grave with a mission to break into Marcy's estate store. Marcy hesitated for a second...not knowing how the man would react to her next move but she did it anyway - she reached for the phone that had been sitting quietly on the kitchen table to her right and at that exact moment the dirty intruder pulled a knife out from behind his back. He lunged at her, the knife sliced through Marcy's right bicep...somehow she did not feel any pain from the bleeding wound. The adrenaline had kicked in, as well as Marcy's natural survival instincts and before the man could take another stab at her, she grabbed him by his hair and hurled him towards the kitchen cabinets...hoping to knock him out. The strength behind her own brute force shocked her, but her efforts did not work, as the intruder was back on his feet in a matter of seconds. Once again, he lunged at her with the rusty knife, this time coming within inches from slicing her thigh. She caught the man's hand that held the knife and suddenly an urge came over her and she yelled out, "LUCAS! LUCAS! I NEED YOU!" She was giving it her damndest to yank the knife from the intruder's grasp, when Lucas burst through the back door in a whirlwind of fury. His fangs were out as if ready to feast upon the intruder's flesh...

To Be Continued in Of Blood & Pearls: A Vampire Romance, Part III...