The Soul Mate

CHAPTER TEN

The little ones ran forward, always the most eager for story time.

Maisera settled next to Jericho in their lawn chairs, their elbows hooked loosely together. She gave her husband a smile so sweet that I swear I saw sparks fly. The bond they had with each other was not only a joining of bodies but of something much deeper. They were truly one entity in two bodies. It was glorious, it was ageless, and it was everything. Together, they were beautiful to behold.

I caught sight of Onyx’s skinny fingers creeping over top Gerik’s denim clad leg. I watched her squeeze the individual muscles in his thigh and start possessively massaging him. Brushing her short black hair out of her eyes, she caught me staring and smiled.

“Mullo,” Maisera began. I immediately looked away from Onyx.

“Was born centuries ago, the eldest son to the Baró of a Roma clan. He was powerful Rom, blessed by Nature with all the magical elements. Back then, Romani were not welcome in the Gaje world and had to travel many miles. This particular clan had settled peacefully, deep within the Carpathian Mountains, far away from the towns and villages that had condemned them.

But they were not alone in the mountains. A Gaje lord with a hunger for power that could never be sated lived among them. It is said that the day he attacked he spared no one his brutality, not even the children, in his attempts to learn the secrets of their magic.

The Baró’s two sons had been away from camp that day. They returned home to find the blood strewn remains of their people. Everyone had been slaughtered, even the children.

Mad with revenge, the eldest son walked for days thinking only of the vengeance he was to exact on his enemies. His body grew gaunt, his clothes torn, but still he walked. Upon his arrival, the guardsmen laughed at the solitary Gypsy who thought to take on an entire fortress of armed men. They laughed until they looked in his eyes.

Bottomless pits of black despair. He spared no one he found. No man, woman or child who crossed his path that day had been safe from his madness.”

I shivered hearing this. Gerik’s braid tickled my shoulder as he leaned close. “Are you cold?” He whispered. I shook my head without looking at him.

“Mullo,” Maisera continued, “had called upon dark magic to seek his revenge. And in this life nothing is given freely. There are consequences to every action. In return for his bloodlust, he will now always hunger for blood. For cutting short the lives of hundreds of innocent people, he was condemned to live out their lives and the lives of their unborn children and their unborn children, in a never ending cycle. He will never know peace or life without suffering. He has been condemned to a life of eternal pain, shrouded in darkness.

It was said that he never again left the fortress, and that anyone who dared venture up into those mountains was never heard from again.

Mullo, was the name given him. It means, the first Vampire.”

“Freaky, yeah?” Gerik was studying me intently.

Four months ago I would have laughed at that story. Written it off as just another campfire tale or legend that had been tossed around over the centuries. Gods knew how many I’d listened to my father tell. I knew Greek mythology like the back of my hand but, despite how many people believed otherwise, I hadn’t taken it at all seriously.

But now? And after everything I’d seen? What had Jericho said when he’d had one of those creatures suspended in mid air? “Blestemul de vampir.”

I had no idea what the rest meant, but ‘vampir’ was clear enough. Is that what those things were? Vampires? There went that whole ‘dark and sexy vampire lurking in the shadows’ theory.

“Uh, yeah", I said, "Is that story true?”

“Maybe,” Gerik finally answered, sounding blasé. “Haven’t been to the Carpathian Mountains lately to check it out.”

I shot him a dirty look and he laughed. The deep, throaty sound resonated through me making me feel soft and comfortable. Similar to the sensation I use to get after taking a long hot bath then snuggling down deep under my covers.

“Dance with me Trinity,” He asked softly.

The dancing had just begun and both the young and old were already spinning around the bonfire. The Roma who were not dancing were tongue clacking, hand clapping and clicking wooden spoons together in time to the fast past melody. Hearing Gerik’s question, Onyx stood. The amount of hate in her eyes could have fueled a small city for a decade or two.

“Um…” I tried to look anywhere but at Onyx. “Maybe that’s not such a good idea.”

Gerik glanced up at Onyx who immediately tried to hide the fact that she’d been giving me death stares but Gerik had seen her. Getting to his feet, something silent and inexplicably intimate passed between the two of them and she softened. She shot me one last look of disdain before walking away.

The longing I glimpsed in her eyes was enough to knock me out flat.

“She loves you,” I whispered, feeling horrible.

“No, you don’t understand.” He reached for me and I scrambled backwards. “Don’t touch me!” I fled from him through the throng of dancers.

Grabbing a bottle of rum out of a startled Pitti’s chubby hands, I took off toward the empty side of end lot to find a private place where I could still enjoy the music. I loved the music in camp. It was free and magical, just the like the Gypsies.

As the violins whined, while the fiddles wailed, and the guitars strummed faster and faster, the foot stomping and hand clapping grew louder and the people more raucous. The Mousai Goddesses were here tonight, of that I had no doubt. I could almost picture them twirling around the dancers, unseen to human eyes, as they frolicked and giggled, spelling them with the need to keep dancing.

I danced alone in the dark. My braids flew and my dress billowed around me as I spun around. Shimmying and swaying, my bracelets and beads shook and rattled to their own unique beat. The more I danced, the more I drank, letting the alcohol soak its way into my bloodstream, working its own kind of magic. Soon a sense of delirium and a delightful skin tingling numbness took over.

I soon lost myself inside the music of the Roma and to the inhibitions of alcohol. Both were drugs I didn’t need right now clouding my mind. But nothing was as bad as those deep blue eyes that were watching me from the shadows. Gerik was the worst drug of them all. I’d been pretty even keel my entire life until I’d met Gerik and experienced the kinds of pleasure only he had ever brought me. The exquisite places his body would take mine would stay with me for days afterwards. I’d be left empty, imagining the highs I still had yet to reach and knowing it was only Gerik who could bring me back there.

Large hands caught my waist and swept me off my feet. Gerik pulled me against him. “You’re beautiful you know? I could watch you dance all night.”

“You could,” I laughed. I felt suddenly bold, a combination of the alcohol and his nearness. “But I’d get lonely dancing all by myself.”

Before he could respond, I kissed him hard and let the heat building slowly between us flare.

“Trinity,” Gerik gasped for air as I eagerly went for his lips again.

“What?” I asked, pulling his pony holders out of his braids and running my fingers through the wavy strands, freeing them. His chest heaved against mine as his breathing grew ragged.

“You’re never going to be alone again.”