My Little Buckaroo *Angelique*

[Hoyt 'Stoney' Blackwell]

Stoney tied his horse to the post and turned to pat him on the nose when the stable boy came to retrieve him. Stoney gave him a a stone cold gaze before turning away. It was no wonder people called him Stoney, he seemed to have a heart of stone. It wasn't that his heart was made of stone, he had to make it seem that way. He could not afford emotions that would distract him from his duty. Things like love and friendship could distract him and something could happen to Marcel.

What he didn't understand was that there were 12 men who all felt the same way about him. 12 men who he had turned in order to protect the one man who ever showed him pure love. It wasn't that he didn't love the 12, or they him; He loved them too and would protect them as fiercely as he did his maker, he just could not afford to show it. They were not vulnerable. They were not unable to care for themselves. They did not need the constant security, round the clock care and daily feedings that his charge needed.

He stepped slowly through the saloon style door into the dance hall and looked around. It was hopping as usual. He looked runken girls wearing Daisy Dukes, bikini tops and cowboy boots dancing too close to drunken men in jeans that were too tight and boots that were way too shiny to be used for their proper purpose. As a matter of fact, he wondered how any of these people could have possibly been born into this world and still come out looking like Billy Ray Cyrus rejects from the 1990’s.

People in this city seemed to have an aversion to covering their bodies. Did they not realize they would be cooler if they put something on? But right now his mind was on other things. He heard the vehicle outside and knew that his guest had arrived. He walked slowly across the dance hall to a large black door that was guarded by men dressed the same as he was; black shirt, black jeans, boots, spurs and a lone star belt buckle. Their hair was cut the same as well. One moved to let him in while the other went on alert.

Stoney walked through the door which remained held open until he got to another door with two more men that looked the same as the first. That door was opened and held as well. The next door he got to was made of steel and looked like the door on an old safe. That’s exactly what it was. The two vampires took a step out as he worked the combination then opened the 12 inch steel portal that led into a dimly lit hallway adorned in red velvet and gold cord. He could sense that his guest had followed and heard the first door close, then the second. He moved down the hallway into a lavish room decorated in 12th century French décor. In the center of the room was a long coffin like vessel with a lone figure laying in it dressed in a silk men’s dressing down.

Stoney began to hum, then sing softly. “Close your sleepy eyes my little Buckaroo,” he began and went to a china basin beside the special bed, “Wild the light of the western skies are shinin’ down on you,” he picked up a clean dry cloth next to the basin and dipped the corner of it in the water that was in the basin, “I’ll protect you in your bed,” he gently dabbed at the man in the beds face, “Another night is through, It’s safe to sleep,” he leaned down and kissed him gently on the forehead, “My little Buckaroo.”

He stroked the mans hair back and closed his eyes, “I found her Marcel…she is here. Please,” he looked up at his guest as he heard the last door close the the spinners turn into place, locking them in, “Wake up and greet your visitor.” He opened his eyes again and looked down at his maker, “He’s perfect.” He murmured, “Has been for 100 years. I thought…I thought he would wake up once he healed.” He said softly and stroked his cheek. “You cant even see the marks anymore. I been feeding him, every day. Keeping him underground, taking real good care of him. Keeping him safe.” He looked up at his guest, “What am I doin’ wrong?” he asked with a hint of desperation.

[angelique]

Angelique knew she should still be hiding herself away for a bit longer but she couldn't. The burns were still there but hidden underneath the cloak she wore. She knew she should have dressed more to fit in here but that was never her way. That day with Thor had brought back memories of Marcel. They had been close friends. He had saved her from herself really. She had asked him once why he had risked it all for her and he had said there is always a reason, doll.

She had rolled her eyes and shoved him. She stood dressed in a red long dress with spaghetti straps and a black cloak over her head hiding her slightly still burned face. It wasn't as bad as it had been. The burns that is. She stood outside of the place looking like a little red riding hood. She listened to the song playing as she stood there looking in almost. She should have come sooner but things were hitting the fan and right after talking to Stoney she had gotten burned by the sun risking herself as Marcel had done to save someone else.

She had decided on sandals though she didn't want to wear any shoes. She still ached. She came alone to show the men here that she wasn't here for violence and as well that she could take care of herself as well. She hadn't just been along for the ride with Marcel. She had been right there through the West as well. Not when they had parted ways but before that. She had her own skills and she knew these men probably wouldn't hesitate on shooting her if she pulled anything either.

She carried a backpack on her shoulder that hadn't been burned and she patted it but that wasn't the only place she carried weapons. She wore a sheath on both calves as well where the dress hid them. She slowly began to move inside. A man took one look at her and asked who she was. "I'm Angelique Marovich." Her head was bowed hiding her face still but then he gripped the hood and pulled it back showing her face and the burns there.

"What the fuck happened to you?" He asked pulling his hand back and she grinned some though it turned into a wince. "I took a stroll in the sun. What do you think happened?" The man smirked. "Follow me." She watched as he turned and began walking and she pulled the hood back on even as people stared at her in horror. She lifted her chin as she walked behind the man.

She was being watched closely as she moved and her head dipped down even as she walked slowly behind the man. She could feel their eyes on her as she made her way into the room. She stood with her hands folded in front of her. And her head lifted some as Stoney began to speak to her. She stood staring at Marcel though. She didn't respond right away to his question. She began to move to Marcel and slid a hand along her friend's cheek.

"Sometimes the pain may be physical but the mental is much worse." She whispered the words so softly. She had tried to daywalk for that same reason, hadn't she? She stared down at Marcel's handsome face with tears in her eyes but the hood hid her face in shadows. "Hey Marcel, didn't you say something about walking is better than burnin', doll?" She had pulled out the country lilt even though he had always laughed about it.

"Did you know they made a song just for you? Hillbilly Bone!" She was speaking cheerfully even though she wanted to cry. Her hand slid down to his free hand even as she let the backpack she carried fell to the floor. "It reminds me of you and me. You said I'd make a pretty little country queen though I came from New York! I had never been to New York I responded and you go well you sure do shoot like one of those!" She let a soft laugh escape her.

"I've been burned again, you ol' country bumpkin! Get your ass up! We don't do laying out for long! One hundred years he says? I knew cowboys were deranged folk. If lawyers are disbarred and clergymen are defrocked, shouldn't it follow that cowboys would be deranged?" She leaned down to speak in his ear though loud enough that she could be heard by Stoney. "When you give a personal lesson in meanness to a critter or to a person, don't be surprised if they learn their lesson. Oh and another lesson you taught me..."

She turned to look at Stoney with a smirk that she didn't quite feel. "There never was a horse that couldn't be rode; Never was a cowboy who couldn't be throwed." She gave a nod of her head at that adding in the lilt that Marcel always made fun of. "And the best one of all... Don't worry about bitin' off more'n you can chew; your mouth is probably a whole lot bigger'n you think. What you always said to me when I opened my mouth." She nodded her head at that.

[Hoyt 'Stoney' Blackwell]

Stoney watched with anticipation, hoping she could get a twitch, a tremble, a smile, maybe open one eye. But there was nothing. He heard the same single heartbeat that he heard each minute of each day for the last century. For years he had laid on the floor beside his maker and prayed to hear just one heartbeat, just one, then after five years he heard one, just one. It took decades to get to where it was actually beating once per minute like vampires who were awake. This added to his confusion. He looked perfect. Why wasn’t he awake, was didn't he respond to old friends.

“S'il vous plait, Marcel. S'il vous plait…” Stoney choked out amidst a sob. “Je ne comprends pas. Je t'aime de tout mon Coeur. Why won’t you wake up?” He leaned over his maker as bloody tears filled his dark and deeply sunken eyes and his hat tipped from his head making it so that the bloody trails leading from his ears and the thick red smears under his black bandana were now visible. “I…I tried everthing…” he choked, “I read French poetry, I sing, I even took him home to France. These are all his things.” He clenched his fist trying not to cry but a convulsive sob dislodged the plugs he had in his nose to keep it from bleeding the pooled blood behind them poured from his nose over his hands. He quickly backed away from his maker so as not to get blood on him. “Sorry.” He drawled and grabbed a cloth and held it to his face. “I haven’t been sleeping very well.” He muttered through his tears. For a vampire so young as he was, not sleeping could deem fatal if not remedied quickly.

He wiped at his nose and hands then noticed the smallest drop of his blood on Marcel’s chin and instantly froze for a moment. “No…” he said softly and moved quickly to the basin and took another cloth. His own blood got on it and he let out a soft sob, he couldn’t possibly clean the droplet off with something that was not clean. “No, it has to be perfect, everything…has to be perfect.” He looked at Angelique with pleading eyes. “Please, help me. Please get it off him.”

[angelique]

Angelique sighed when nothing happened at all. Her heart went out to Stoney as he explained everything he had done for Marcel. Her eyes slid down some as if in sadness. She wished she could do something for the two. She watched as Stoney broke down and began to cry. She went over to touch along his back in a comforting touch. "Shh... I'm sorry. Maybe he just isn't ready yet, Stoney."

But then she saw the blood coming from his ears and from his nose. She heard his apology and that he hadn't been sleeping well. "How about this... You sleep the day and I will stay here with him for the day? I'm an old friend and so you can trust that I will tell you if anything changes." She could do this for Stoney. Perhaps knowing someone was here watching over Marcel would help him to sleep some.

She watched as he froze and took a slight step back not sure what to expect. Perhaps she should have told Gabriel that she was coming to see Marcel and Stoney. Nah, he would have probably flipped especially after she almost being burned alive. She then snapped back as he spoke. Well, what could she truly do but to wipe the blood off of Marcel. She looked at her backpack trying to remember if there were something in it that could be used.

She went to it and dumped it out. Her weapons slid across the floor as she looked through it. She wondered though if someone with the noise of weapons hitting the floor would come in and try to shoot her. The cloak's hood slid over her eyes and she pushed it back off of her head. She saw a piece of clean white cloth and looked at Stoney. It was a tissue. She had packed it in just in case she had needed it. "Will this do, Stoney?" She spoke softly to him as she held it up.

[Hoyt 'Stoney' Blackwell]

Stoney stared at the bit of white tissue and began to reach for it but jerked his bloody hand away and nodded “That will do, thank you.” He said softly. “I…I need to get fresh clothes.” He said and with one last look at his maker he turned on his heel and walked across the room. He pushed a thick red velvet curtain back with his elbow revealing a set of double doors with solid gold hardware. He then pushed down on the door release and pushed the door open, revealing another room, the same size as the first, only there was a large bath with seemingly running water in it and fresh rose petals floating across the surface, very typical for a French aristocrat.

He walked up to a solid black marble sink where he washed his hands and face and removed his bandana. He washed his neck then frowned at his shirt and took it off, revealing the long scars all over his back from when he was human. They were left over from the beating he took when Marcel nursed him back to health. If it were not for Marcel finding him, he would have died and the depth of the scars told that story. He grabbed a clean black t-shirt off a shelf and pulled it over his short blond curls and pulled it down over his perfect torso that was gained from a hard life in the old west.

Stoney spent a moment cleaning up the sink as if he was disinfecting the place and threw the soiled clothes in a small basket. He went to another shelf and pulled down a stack of clean white cloths and took them back to the table where the basin was. “He’s had his bath today.” He said absently, “And has been well fed. He takes blood well enough.” He wavered on his feet slightly, “You know, there is only an hour before the sun, I can feel it earlier and earlier.” He moved to Marcel and brushed a stray lock of hair off his forehead. “He’s never going to wake up, is he?” he asked softly, “It’s ok if he doesn’t. I can take care of him forever if I have to.”

[angelique]

Angelique watched as he began to take the tissue but then he had jerked his hand away. She realized he didn't want to get the blood on the white tissue and so she walked slowly to Marcel and lightly wiped the blood from his chin. She listened to Stoney as he spoke and turned her head to look over her shoulder watching him. Old habits died hard and she knew she was in a hornet's nest. And in a way she felt completely safe. She turned so she could look fully into the room as curiousness got the best of her.

She saw the rose petals floating on the water. This place was like an alternate world really. She slowly walked to the door almost unsure of how to handle all of this. She saw the black marble sink. She had a feeling very few got to see this inner sanctum. How many guards had she passed when she had come in? She though stared as Stoney began to remove his bandana and then soon his shirt followed.

Her lips parted some and she saw the scars along his back and wondered how many there were and how he had got them. But the scars meant he was dangerous and here she stood in this well guarded place with an obviously dangerous man and no one knew where she had gone either. Stoney was acting as if he had people in here all of the time but she knew by how he had everything so perfect only a few got to see this place. She spoke so softly. She shouldn't be staring like this at this man. But she couldn't pull her eyes from him.

She shook her head some and began to pick up her weapons and put them back in her backpack before she sat down in a chair but then stood up as Stoney came back into the room. A tear slowly slid down her cheek as she sat there. She could remember the lecture she had gotten from the strange man who had saved her from the sun. Afterwards he had said that he wanted to be a cowboy and that's why he was here. She sniffled. Well, in the years that came he had become a cowboy. She had ridden with him

"What did Marcel write in his journal of me? You are the only one that knows, I presume other than Marcel." She brought her bottom lip between her teeth before letting it go. She had a feeling most written could lead straight to a few weaknesses and if anything her past coming back to hurt her. "I don't want it common knowledge because Marcel knows a lot about me. He saved me from daywalking. I wanted to get rid of the pain once and for all..." No one here knew about that at all. Even Gabriel didn't know of how Marcel and her knew each other. Hell he didn't even know who Marcel was or is.

"I know there is an hour left. You get some sleep I will stay for the day with him. I remember once after he had talked me into riding with him we were stuck out in the desert. Someone had stolen our horses..." A soft smile came to her lips even as she started to softly cry. "We were walking and cussing at each other for one of us told the other to watch the horses." She chuckled some and then continued. "We came on a rattle snake. He got behind me and I was like what in the hell are you doing. He goes city folk don't get by them rattlers. I'm like I'm not going near no snake."

She looked over at Marcel with a slight grin. "He kept pushing me to the snake and I go aren't you a pretty snake. You won't bite me, right? The damned thing launched and bit me. I screamed and was trying to get it off my wrist as I tossed it about. Finally Marcel grabbed it and pulled it. I go I thought snakes didn't bite city folk. I got sick from all the poison it put in me for a half hour and we were trying to beat the sun to begin with with only a half hour left. Marcel was practically carrying me as he walked and I stumbled along. I was cursing him the whole damn way, too."

She looked up at Stoney. "If he lived through the beating I gave him then he will pull through this. Now you go lay down. I will be fine with the sun. Never got death by the sun. Just burned a few times." She began to pull off the cloak and winced. "But can I bother you for a drink? If not I will be fine until the night comes again." She knew she would be losing some blood so the extra blood would help. Stoney needed sleep and she was well enough to handle staying awake during the day.

Gabriel would be wondering where she is. Her employees as well. But she didn't think Thor's almost kidnapping and her as well was just a coincidence. Something was going on and she had inadvertently stumbled onto it by helping Thor and so she would be in the way. She had a feeling that no one would be getting in here and it would also give her time to think and as well to talk to an old friend. Granted he wouldn't be talking to her but still.

She met Stoney's eyes. "Please? Can I stay the day with him just this once? I think Marcel may like some of the stories I can tell him. He said I was always good with a story."

[Hoyt 'Stoney' Blackwell]

Stoney listened to the story. How could he not. There was something about her voice, her…scent…that made him want to hover around her. He didn’t understand it. He didn’t have time for that sort of thing. He couldn’t afford the distraction. His life was all about making Marcel comfortable and his surroundings perfect so he would one day wake up from his sleep of the dead.

He looked at Marcel then at Angelique. He knew she was safe around Marcel because of the journals and he knew he had every last one. He knew the moment he met this woman to the moment they parted ways. He knew Angelique had never been his lover; it was more like they had been the best of friends for a time. Marcel preferred boys, as Stoney knew from experience. Marcel was gay. Stoney wasn’t but when it came to Marcel…well let’s just say that zebra’s stripes only changed in Marcel’s bedroom. Stoney preferred the company of women. Whereas he had not even though about it while he had been caring for his maker, right now, this woman’s scent was…distracting.

“You have to read to him.” He said and went to a large bookshelf with dark leather bound books, each looked identical, each had a year printed on it. “These are his journals. This is what I read to him.” He said as he began to pick through them. “I started at the beginning. Did you know he was a pure blood?” he asked and laid a finger on one, “This is your story, yours and his. When I got to it…I thought…maybe.” He stopped and moved on, dragging his finger over every year. Just before he got to the end he stopped. “Here, is where my part of his story begins. We just got to it.” He pulled the book off the shelf and carried it slowly over to Angelique.

“This is where, he first saw me, months before I ever saw him. And where he saved me.” His voice was almost reverent. “I have never read it before. I probably shouldn’t. The other stories were about other people. Maybe I shouldn’t read what he had to say about me. Maybe…maybe he won’t wake up for me because I was a disappointment.” He mused. Marcel had always seemed to love him, but in Stoney’s mind, one could never tell what a man was really thinking unless he crawled inside it. The journals were one way of doing that. “I’m not sure I want to know.”

He held the book out to her and as she reached for it, her hand dragged across his and he could not believe the tingly sensation that shot up his arm and travelled into his gut. It was the beginnings of arousal. “Uh, yeah, just read to him…” he murmured very softly, trying to keep his head off the fact that his body wanted her something fierce, even if he wasn't thinking about it.

He abruptly turned away and strode into the other room. It took him a moment to compose himself before he quickly got undressed and put on a pair of black pajama bottoms. He didn’t care if she was watching him. He mentally kicked himself for thinking he would like her to be. Sleep, that’s what he needed. He needed sleep. He moved across the room back to where Marcel was lying in his coffin like bed. He leaned down and stroked his head and softly kissed his lips. “I will see you when the sun falls. You’ll be safe, Angelique is going to stay with you.” He whispered then dropped to his knees. He reached under the stand Marcel’s bed was placed on and pulled out and old fashioned bedroll. He unfastened the leather bindings and unrolled it on the floor next to Marcel.

Stoney must not have known how tired he was because the moment he stretched out on his back and laid his hand across his perfect abs, his eyes closed. He could not remember how long it had been since he slept for a full day. And he didn’t plan to start now. Even in his forced sleep, he would fight it until it let him go. This caused him to have a repeating nightmare about the night his maker nearly met the true death.

[angelique]

Angelique had a soft heart she knew deep down beneath that hard exterior with that viper's tongue. She helped when she could but she could hurt someone if she needed to. She wasn't defenseless even with the sweet way she had been. She didn't meet all these ruffians and survive them just by being nice. She knew how to fight dirty. And even being in the company of rattlesnakes as she was right now it didn't change her calm ways.

She knew Stoney was listening to the story that she told about the snake and the sun coming soon. She heard his words of having to read to Marcel. That wouldn't be too hard. She'd read to Jakob a few times before now. But then Stoney went to the large bookshelf and saw the leather bound books. All of them identical. "No, but I did have my assumption that he was. He didn't act as what most pure bloods I had come across acted like. They had been kind of stuck up even for the young ones."

She lifted a hand and put her hair behind her ear as she listened to him speak. She saw the one he put a finger on and heard what he had to say. So that was part of her story there. Her time with Marcel. She finished his sentence. "You thought I would be able to wake him. I'm sorry I couldn't." She watched his finger and couldn't help but wonder what it would feel like against her skin. She should be paying attention to his words. Set your mind to what he is saying not how your skin wants to be touched. She heard his words as he pulled the journal from the bookshelf. Could she really read his story to Marcel? Did Stoney really want her knowing? He had read her story or a piece of it.

She watched as he walked it slowly to her. "I can understand that. I wouldn't want to read what he wrote of me. When he met me I was a lost soul. I wasn't very together as I am now. And I am sure you were never a disappointment, Stoney. Look around at what you have done for him. How many would say or done what you have?" She slowly lifted her hand for the book and her hand slid along his. The touch of skin against skin made her want to press into him.

Her lips parted some as she pushed the thought from her mind. What the hell is the matter with you, Angelique? Quit thinking of sex when you are in the worst place for it. "Yes... I... Uh yeah, read to him." She moved some away from him as if distance may help. She watched as he left the room and gave a soft sigh. Yes, distance would be a good... But then she watched as he undressed right where she could see him.

Her lips parted some more as her eyes slid over him and she hugged the book close against her as if it would shield her from what she was seeing. But she couldn't pull her gaze from his body at all. Her eyes slid down every piece of skin as if she couldn't help herself. Her fingers tightened on the book as if she were fighting not to slide her fingernails down along his body. But then she saw that he was heading out and she averted her gaze as she swallowed hard. What the hell was the matter with her?!

She was hungry for primal heat. Her body was full of want but she couldn't do this. Not now. She slowly loosened her grasp on the book and watched as he leaned down and kissed Marcel as he stroked his hair. It was so sweet how he treated Marcel. She brought a shaking hand up to her hair and pushed it back even though her bangs fell forward covering one of her eyes even as he began to make his bed on the floor. She blinked in surprise. She had expected him to sleep in another room or something.

She should have known better. She watched as he laid down and still didn't move as if frozen to that spot. She let her breath that she hadn't even realized she'd been holding slowly come out before she took a seat in the chair next to Marcel's bed. She looked over at Marcel. "My dearest friend, much has happened but we will speak when you awaken. For now I will read to you a story from your own book." She murmured softly bringing her hand to his for a moment to squeeze it gently.

She let go of his hand. Perhaps reading would help get her mind off of things. She finished taking her cloak off even as she winced some. There were still some sore spots but nothing really problematic just annoying. She slowly opened the book to the first page and began to read it out loud. She felt though that she was invading Marcel's privacy with each word she spoke. But she was curious as well. She wondered as well if Stoney was listening to her read about him.

Her eyes slid to him and then to the other journals. Did she want to know what Marcel had said about her? What he thought of her? No. She would read this book to Marcel until the night came once more. She could feel the drawing of sleep but she fought it. Soon the sun would be coming and she would be fighting it more fully. The book would help. How many times had Stoney done this same thing?

[Hoyt 'Stoney' Blackwell]

Somewhere deep in Stoney’s subconscious, he could hear Angelique’s voice. It served to guide his dream to his earliest memory of the day he met Marcel. He never knew that Marcel saw the fire when his parents died. How could he have known how the boy was burned trying to save his family? But he relived the memory in his mind. Perhaps he knew this would happen, perhaps he needed to relive it. He groaned in his sleep as it came to the part about him falling to his knees and screaming until he was hoarse.

He never knew that Marcel watched him from a distance and planned on making him his protégé when he was old enough. He never knew that Marcel had lay beneath the ground in agony, knowing Stoney was in danger but was unable to get to him in time. He jerked in his sleep and groaned at the description of the way he was beaten and bruised. He turned on his side and curled up into the fetal position that Marcel had found him in.

The rest of the tale was of Marcel watching over Stoney and waiting for the right time to tell him what he was and turn him. Stoney was silent and still as these good memories and funny stories caused one corner of his mouth to twitch upwards. Surprisingly, even the story of Darius first attack and Stoney's transformation only caused minor stirring and a deep sigh to come to Stoney.

Then Marcel didn't write much. It was mostly short phrases and love poems all about his love for his fair haired cowboy and short descriptions of their love making which caused him to become somewhat aroused.

Finally the last entry was read…

“Darius is here, he is after Hoyt. He will kill him before he lets me keep him. His jealousy has turned him mad. I cannot let this happen, I love him more than my own life.” That was the end…

Stoney groaned and rolled back onto his back. His mind took over the story and he relived the attack on his maker. “Kill you…bastard…” he mumbled in his sleep. He remembered Marcel coming out of nowhere and attacking Darius.

He remembered the fight vividly and he tossed and mumbled in his sleep. “Marcel no…” he murmured and turned his head toward his maker. He began to fight sleep as he remembered crawling on his hands and knees to his maker’s body and reaching out to take his head and put them back together. “No…no please. Marcel…”

He began to groan and toss, trying to shake the suns influence. He needed to wake up from this nightmare. This end of his dream was the same every time he tried to sleep. His eye lids looked as if someone was trying to force his eyes open and his hand opened and closed as if he was trying to get a grip on reality and drag himself out of his dream.

“Mmmarcel…” What he didn't know, and could not possibly see was the slight frown on Marcel’s face and the quick as lightning twitch of his hand as if he could hear Stoney’s distress and wished he could wake up himself.

[angelique]

Angelique began to read even as she fought the sun's influence on her. She picked up a tissue out of her backpack and wiped at the blood that slid down along her neck. She didn't want the drops to slip down and fall on the journal. She continued to read but stopped for a moment as she looked over at Stoney. He seemed in complete pain. Should she continue?

She could feel somewhat his pain. When her husband had been brutally slaughtered right before her eyes and the man had turned her. Her husband's killer escaped her. She had gone looking for him for centuries. Finally she had given up the day she had met Marcel. She remembered seeing him briefly once before then and had given a slight smile as she had passed him.

But then her memory stopped there for she didn't want to remember. She wanted her revenge against the bastard still. She had no forgiveness for him. She knew she couldn't do anything against him. She wondered briefly if perhaps someone else had made him suffer. If someone she knew that knew the story had destroyed him. She began to read once more. She continued to read so softly. She felt bad for Stoney.

He had lost his family. He had lost everything. There was nothing worse than that. And yet still he suffered. She continued to read figuring Stoney would want her to finish his tale. When she read about their lovemaking though she had fidgeted some. The love poems were so sweet. She wondered if Marcel had told Stoney how much he thought of him. She hadn't read anything of disappointment in Stoney. Quite the opposite.

But then she heard the mumbling and looked over at Stoney. She immediately jumped up and moved to him as he began to toss and turn. "Shhh it's just a nightmare. Marcel will wake up." She brought her hand down on Stoney's shoulder lightly before shaking him. "Stoney! Shhh... It is alright." She whispered softly trying to comfort the man. She sat down next to him on the bedroll and brushed back the man's hair.

She continued to look down and try to wake him up so that he wouldn't have to dream of his nightmare. "Stoney..." She whispered even as she kept fighting down her own heat. Not the time. "Please..." She continued to gently run her fingers through his hair. She brought one hand down to the ground even as she brought her other hand back to his shoulder. "Stoney..." She whined softly. This was such a mistake to come here. She had wanted to see Marcel though. It had been so long since she had seen her friend.

[Hoyt 'Stoney' Blackwell]

Stoney could smell that smell…In his dream the scent wafted on the air. He froze to smell it, changing the dream from what it always was, into something new. Suddenly, in his dream, Angelique appeared before him, dressed it a white lace dressing gown of his era. To him, it was the equivalent to a playboy pinup.

Taken by exhaustion and the draw of the sun, he was unable to wake up fully, but that meant he was half in his dream and half awake. His body responded to what he was seeing and his own spicey, musky scent intensified and became that of a male vampire under the influence of a female ready to mate indicating that he, too, was ready to mate.

In his dream and in life, he could feel her touch him. Her touch was tender and caring. He heard her words. “Stoney! Shh…It is alright.” It was a soft whisper that sent a shiver through him. The scent kept teasing him, intoxicating him. His hand moved to her arm and he turned his body into her. He had to touch her, inhale her. “Mmmm…” he inhaled deeply and pressed himself into her. He needed to feel her. Suddenly he pulled her down all the way so she was on his bedroll beside him.

His eyes opened, he was now awake but already carried away by her mating pheromones. He was no longer responsible for his actions and those actions were to get his arms around her and bury his face in her neck where her scent was strongest. He inhaled deeply and groaned with desire. He pulled his head back so he could look at her, his mating fangs were fully extended and ready to be used, as was his manhood.

How did he end up like this? Did it matter? He wanted her. No, he needed her, and he needed her now. Her heat was undeniable, irresistible. He could not have stopped himself if he tried. He let out an involuntary mating growl. If anyone entered the room right then, they would most likely get killed.

[angelique]

Angelique was trying to not just grab him and take what she wanted. She was fighting herself. She didn't know what to do about what was going on with her. She was trying not to feel this way but it wasn't working at all. His scent was making her want to just climb into that bedroll with him. Staring down at him like this made her want to whine and... Mind out of there, Angelique.

She felt his hand move to her arm. Had he awakened then? Her breathing was harsh and the smell he was giving off was making her shiver and the heat come more. She felt him move closer to her and then suddenly she was pulled down and her lips parted in surprise at the feel of him against her fully. Her eyes slid along him and then back to his eyes. She had seen him nude but being this close to him made her want to lick him and taste his skin so much.

She slid brought her hands to his wrists only to slide them up along his strong arms and further up until she reached his shoulders. Her fangs were extended as if she could already taste him on her tongue.She watched him pull back and looked up at him whining some as if she thought he would leave her like this.

Her hands gripped his shoulders as she dug her fingernails in as if to tell him no, not to move away. But then she heard his growl and she shivered at it. Her leg slid along his leg as she brought it up to his hip even as she pressed more into him. "Stoney..." She whispered so softly as if begging him. The heat was unbearable and she slid a hand up into his hair as she tangled her fingers in it and leaned forward.

Her lips pressed against his lips with full on want. Her tongue came out to slide along his lips as if begging entrance before her lips slid along his cheek to his neck. "Mmm... You smell so good..."

[Thor Ericsson]

{{Fade to black}}