N. Walters: Damek's Redemption

Sadness enveloped her and it was breaking his heart, a heart he’d long thought dead and dormant until he met her. She’d changed him, and there was no going back to the man he’d been. He didn’t want to.

He enjoyed life now in a way he hadn’t for hundreds of years, maybe never. Everything was more special when he shared it with Sonia. He loved the way she insisted on behaving as though she were still human—having coffee in the evening when they woke, sharing the newspaper and going out to concerts and the movies.

But most of all, he simply loved being with her, holding her in his arms as the sun rose and sent them both to rest. He stayed awake each morning long after she was asleep simply watching her and marveling at the fact that she was his.

He knew she was happy most of the time, but in quiet moments there was something unsettled inside her. “Are you unhappy I turned you into a vampire?” He’d dreaded something like this happening. He’d changed her life, tied her to him without her consent.

“No. Of course not.” She offered him a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes and patted his chest as if to reassure him. “I’m going to go home and get started on my research.” She leaned in and kissed his cheek before turning to leave.

Damek knew if he let her walk out the door whatever was wrong would continue to fester, inevitably driving a wedge between them. He couldn’t let that happen. “Sonia.”

She shook her head, not turning around to face him. “Let it go, Damek. Everything is fine.”

Using his preternatural speed, he reached the door before she did. “I can’t let you go. Not like this.”

“Nothing is wrong,” she promised. “I love you.”

Damek knew she was telling the truth, but there was still something she was hiding from him. Fear and regret ate at him. He had to know what was wrong. If he couldn’t take it from her by force, there was only one other way to get it from her.

He slowly dropped to his knees before her.

“What are you doing?”

He felt her mounting concern, but he’d gone too far to stop now. “You must tell me what is wrong?” Emotion threatened to close his throat. He swallowed hard and forced out the words, holding nothing back. She was his reason for living now, his sanity, the balm that drove back the bloodlust and indifference that had colored his life for so many years. He could not go back to those centuries of bland sameness. He’d rather die.

“Damek.”

He shook his head and buried his face against her stomach, needing her warmth against his face. “I love you, Sonia. I cannot lose you. You must tell me what is wrong.” The last was more a demand then a request, but he did not take back the words. He held her hips in his hands to keep her close.

He felt her stiffen against him and looked up, ready to do whatever it took to put an end to this untenable situation. Her gray eyes were shining with the pure light of her soul. It was so beautiful it almost hurt him to look.

“You love me?”

He frowned at her question, wondering what his love for her had to do with whatever was bothering her. “Of course.”

“Of course,” she muttered. A lone tear slipped from her eye to roll down her cheek.

Damek surged to his feet. “Please don’t cry. You don’t need to tell me what is wrong.” Not if it made her cry. He caught her face in his hands and kissed her cheek, capturing the tear on his tongue. The salty drop was bitter in his mouth. He’d done this. He’d made her cry.

Then she started to laugh. He eased back, not quite sure what he should be doing. Was she sad or happy? He might be a thousand years old but he still didn’t understand women. He wasn’t sure any man truly could.

“That’s it. Don’t you understand?”

He shook his head. “Have pity on your poor husband.”

Sonia had earlier pictured Damek on his knees confessing his love to her, but never had she thought it would hurt her so much when he did so. Hearing him beg her to tell her what was wrong was a moment she wouldn’t soon forget. She never wanted to see her proud vampire begging her or anyone for anything. It simply wasn’t right.

He was watching her carefully, as though she was a ticking time bomb and he had no idea what would make her explode. “You told me you loved me.”

He shook his head. “I still don’t understand. Of course, I love you.”

He really didn’t get it. “You never told me you did. Not in words.” She sighed and leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder. “I was going to be patient and pretend I didn’t need the words. You always spoke in terms of possession, not love.”

“You are mine.” He caught her chin in his hand and tipped it upward until she could see his scowling face.

There he was, her arrogant, dictatorial man. And she wouldn’t have him any other way. “And you’re mine,” she reminded him. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t need the other words, the softer ones.”

A slow smile curved the corners of his mouth. “Ah, I think I understand now.” He kissed her then, the soft caress filled with love and gentleness and hope.

“I love you, Sonia. You saved me in more ways than you will ever know. You are my life.”

“As you are mine.”

She tugged his head down and kissed him, tasting true happiness for the very first time. Damek cupped the back of her head, tilting it to the side to give him better access. She felt the hard push of his erection against her belly and smiled.

Then they forgot the outside world and let all their troubles drop away. Whatever happened in the future, they would deal with it together.

N.J. Walters has always been a voracious reader of romance novels and decided one day that she could write one as well. The contemporary story, Discovering Dani, was the very first novel she wrote while living in a little town much like the one Dani O’Rourke lives in, though all other similarities to Dani’s life pretty much end there. Then she wrote another one that followed up on Dani’s friends and neighbors. But she didn’t consider herself a “real” writer yet.

Just a few years later N. J. had a mid-life crisis at a fairly young age, gave notice after ten years at her job on a Friday and received a tentative acceptance for her first published novel (an erotic romance) from a publisher on the following Sunday.

Happily married to the love of her life, with his encouragement and support she gave up the job of selling books for the more pleasurable job of writing them. She now spends her days writing novels of her own. Werewolves, vampires, time-travelers, seductive handymen, and next-door neighbors with smoldering good looks—all vie for her attention. It’s a tough life, but someone’s got to do it. And some days she actually feels like a “real” writer.

N.J. enjoys hearing from readers, and she can be reached at njwalters22@yahoo.ca. You can check out her web site at www.njwalters.com.