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NOTE: This story contains multiple lifetimes (reincarnation)

…Present Day…

The Year-2024

...His gaze was penetrating, intense, so scrutinizing I felt as though he was looking for my soul, and I wondered what he saw. Did he find it changed? Did he realize it had transformed into something otherwise; something sinister and dark? I no longer knew whether I was alive or dead—and in truth, I didn’t care either way. I had become cold. My eyes now echoed the darkest levels of hell, and I was—at last—ready to break out of my cage: to leave behind my mortal form and be within the immortal realm of what I was, and as I gazed at the man before me, I knew he recognized what I had become as well...

I sat back gazing at the screen, satisfied with my work. I never dreamed when I’d become an author, that I’d be writing a story about myself. But here I am, tapping away on the keys of my laptop like a madwoman. Let me introduce myself, my name is Kaisha Savoie, and every thousand years, I have been reborn since 1824. The one constant in each rebirth, is a vampire named Redakai Laraque.

As the memories continue to roll in, I bend back over my laptop and begin to type again…

The year was 1824…

"Quite the beauty aren’t you?" The auctioneer's gruff voice pierced through the chilly air as he examined me with a scrutinizing eye. I forced myself to stand tall, despite the shackles weighing me down and the fear that trembled in my chest.

My stepmother was the picture of poise beside me. Her eyes, a piercing shade of green, searched the sea of faces for any sign of pity or mercy. I knew better than to hold my breath. The only thing we'd find here was cold, hard greed.

"This one," a deep voice boomed from the shadows, "I want to see what she can do."

The crowd of cloaked figures murmured among themselves, the sound of gold coins clinking together a music of greed. A burly guard stepped forward, unlocking my manacles. "Perform," he growled, pushing me towards a makeshift stage.

With trembling legs, I climbed the wooden steps. The spotlight, a solitary candle perched precariously above, cast a flickering glow that danced eerily on the faces of potential buyers. My heart hammered in my chest, each beat echoing louder and louder within my ears.

The auctioneer cleared his throat, a wet, phlegmy sound that made me want to recoil. "This one," he announced, "Is rumored to be... special."

Javaleen’s eyes bore into me, her message clear. I took a deep breath, focusing on the energy within me. A small flame danced at the tip of my finger, growing brighter with each passing second. The crowd gasped.

A figure in the back stood, tall and imposing. His eyes, a piercing silver, met mine and a shiver ran down my spine that had nothing to do with the cold. Instead, it was a sense of dread.

"How much for the pair?" he asked. His question was simple, but it held a weight that seemed to crush the very air from my lungs. Please Goddess, I prayed. Not this man.

The auctioneer's grin grew wider. "Ah, a collector," he said, stroking his greasy chin. "Very well. Let's start the bidding."

The figures around us began to shout out prices, their voices filled with greed and desire. But the man with the silver eyes never took his gaze off me. His stare was like a vice, cold and unyielding.

The bidding grew frenzied, numbers flying higher and higher. I could feel the sweat trickling down my back, my palms sticky with fear—this wasn't just about our freedom anymore—it was about survival. And then, with a final, thunderous slam of his gavel, the auctioneer declared, "Sold to the gentleman in the back, Redakai Laraque!"

The crowd parted as he approached, his boots clicking against the stone floor like the ticking of a time bomb. Up close, his face was chiseled from marble, his jaw sharp and unforgiving. He extended a gloved hand, and with a heavy heart, I hesitated, but took it.

As he led me and Javaleen away, his grip tightened on my hand, sending a jolt of something through me that I couldn't quite place. I looked over my shoulder, catching one last glimpse of the auction house, insanely wishing I could return within its interior.

ONE MONTH LATER

Frustrated, I began pushing my way through the swaying arms of the trees, at the same time, trying to brush off the clinging vines. But the foliage grabbed at me with needy fingers as I tried to work my way through the thick of them. When a particularly persistent vine wrapped its way around my arm, I jerked at it. But holding tight, it refused to let go. With an irritated  snort, I tugged harder, and when the vine recoiled with offense, I grumbled, “Damn, but you’re sensitive today!”

I could feel the emotions of all the plant life within the forest, and though I knew I had hurt the vine’s feelings, I didn’t have time to deal with its sulking. Javaleen, my stepmother, had sent me to the forest  to gather a special flower.

Why she couldn’t have done it herself, was beyond me, but that was Javaleen, always wanting  me to do her job; she felt it was beneath her now that she had been elevated to a Potion Maker within the compound. She was one of six Potion Makers’ residing within the Laraque Coven that brewed the mixtures. And as she still considered me a low level witch, I’d been designated by her to gather herbs.

As the call of a bird brought me out of my thoughts, I shot an eye toward the sky, taking in the quickly changing light through the leaves of the canopies. The pinks and oranges of the rising sun painted the sky, and I shook my head at my tallying within the forest. The action had caused me to be late, and with the breaking of dawn, I was sure to have to answer for the lateness of the hour. Javaleen was supposed to have had a brew made before sunup for Redakai and his coven members, and because of me, the potion wasn’t made. I would be punished for my tardiness.

As I gazed through the canopy, I debated not even returning, instead just remaining here within the forest. I knew what awaited me…Redakai…and he didn’t like me. In fact, I wasn’t even sure why he had bought me in the first place; I had been of little benefit.

He had made it clear from the moment he had brought me to his fortress, that he’d just as soon rip my throat open as have me anywhere near him. The feeling was mutual. He was just too…too…everything! Too big, too handsome, too maddening, too… dangerous.

All Vampires were killers, but Redakai, by the Goddess, Redakai was unlike any of the others. When he killed, he was… merciless. I had seen him take on three, four, even five werewolves at a time, ripping their bodies in half with a single twist, a feat that I had never witnessed any other vampire accomplish.

As well, I’d seen him take on rival vampires, his speed and ability unparalleled. But, I feared his silence the most. It never boded well for anyone, and I could only pray that it wasn’t that silence that awaited me when I arrived home.