Lance put aside the painting and sighed. He could smell Lilith from here. The sounds of running water let him know that she was taking a shower. He imagined how her nude body would look under the water, as she ran her hands over her inner-most folds. Her desire called to him and stirred his loins, but he couldn't go yet. There was still much to do.
Lance stood up trying to ignore his now hard cock as he opened the last box. It was smaller than the others, but it held some of the most important tools of his mission. Lilith didn't remember, but he hoped the small goblets in the box would help her memories to surface. He ran his fingers around the soft gold edges and closed his eyes. They were adorned with black sapphires, which were Lilith's favorite, and the official gem of the Ragatti family. The crest of his family had been etched into the bottom of the goblets, but had faded away during the time the glasses spent in storage. Where the dagger and leopard with its teeth barred, resembling a vampires fangs had once been, were only small abstract marks. Time had faded away and took another great thing with it. Lance made a mental note to get the goblets refurbished once the mission was over.
He sat the goblets on the table and leaned back on the sofa, considering if it was still too early in the day to pull out the blood wine. The specialty wine usually wasn't allowed out of his family house in Germany, but his father had made a special allowance for this mission. When vampires traveled, they usually fed on the locals, but as part of his marriage oath, Lance had vowed to never drink from another. Since Lilith's death, his own source of the vital nutrients his body needed had been the blood wine.
The wine was made from a vineyard that had been planted over the last battle of the nine-decade war, the Ragattis had fought against the Lingston Hounds. The blood of both vampire and wolf had soaked into the ground, making it more fertile. Decades later when the vineyard first began to produce, the Ragattis found that the blood nutrients were transferred to the grapes, which was a good thing for Lance. He would have starved to death otherwise, because Lance would not break the eternal vow he made to his wife.
Lance heard the shower turn off and listened to the soft sounds of Lilith drying her body. His nostrils flared as he inhaled her scent. His love had come, but was still aroused. The scent of her longing caused a grin to play at Lance's lips. It was time to make his move, but not before a shower to take the edge off his own needs.
After washing, Lanced dressed in his favorite cotton pajama pants. Their black fabric, was a stunning contrast to his pale skin. He ran his fingers through his hair and headed out onto the balcony. At first he wasn't sure why he went that way, but the sight of Lilith in a short cotton gown, her lap covered with a knitted throw, was the only answer he needed. His instincts still led to her.
He watched her for a moment taking in the graceful way she puffed on her cigarette. Centuries ago a woman who would dare to indulge in a man's past time would have been looked down upon, but even then Lilith had enjoyed it. His family couldn't fathom what attracted him to Lilith, but they didn't have to understand. Lilith had always followed her own desires, and as a creature of the senses, it had drawn Lance to her since the first time he laid eyes on her. Now, he was only separated by the distance between his balcony and hers, but it might as well be miles.
Lilith's eyes looked distant and Lance longed to know what she was thinking about. Was she daydreaming about him, or merely trying to come to terms with turning him over. He knew that Lilith hadn't called Hunter yet, or all hell would have descended upon him by now.
Lilith's body tensed under his gazed and Lance knew she had sensed him.
“Hello neighbor,” her friendly voice called out to him.
“Good evening, Lilith,” Lance said, remembering how much she hated to be called Lily.
She had eventually resigned herself to the nickname, but Lance didn't want to take the chance of offending her tonight. If she became angry at him it would mean he had wasted the years he spent searching for her.
“Aren't you cold?” Lilith asked, looking at his bare chest.
Lance grinned and shook his head, “No, it's a lot colder where I come from.”
“Did you move out here to escape the cold?” she giggled.
“No, I don't mind the weather. Everything has its season. The cold, the sun, the stars and even the moon. Everything begins and must eventually come to an end, only.. ” Lance said.
“The love of the forbidden survives eternity,” Lilith finished the line of old poetry.
“You've heard it before?” he asked with a chuckle.
“I must have,” Lilith shrugged, “although, I don't remember where.”
“Somewhere deep in your history?” he asked.
“Do I look that old?” Lilith asked looking slighted.
“No, not at all,” Lance said quickly trying to control the damage he might have inflicted, “We all have histories. Every soul has lived countless lives. I only meant maybe you had heard it in another life time.”
“Do you really believe that?” she asked.
Lance could tell that Lilith was trying not to laugh. She had forgotten much, even the basic tenets that all beings should know. He held back a sigh and answered her question.
“I do,” he nodded.
“This may sound rude, but I have to ask you something,” Lilith said and stood up.
Lance watched as the knitted throw fell to the ground and Lilith walked to the edge of the balcony. She leaned on the railing waiting on permission to ask what she considered an intrusive question.
“I'm not easily offended,” Lance laughed, “so ask me what you may.”
“Why do you believe in that stuff? I mean I've known people who've died. They don't magically reappear,” Lilith said.
“Magic doesn't have anything to do with reincarnation. It is the natural journey of the soul,” he tried to explain, but found himself at a loss for words.
“How do you know that?” she asked and tilted her head to the side.
The light of the setting sun danced through her eyelashes, taking away Lance's breath. Lilith had always loved to debate, and would often disagree with him just to get him worked up. Lance wondered if this was one of those times. He hoped it was.
“I believe it, because I've seen the truth with my own eyes,” he told her.
“Really?” she asked.
Lance could hear the disbelief in her voice and to a lesser man it might have sounded discouraging, but to Lance Ragatti it was a challenge. Talking to Lilith had renewed his passion for life, and his determination to reclaim her as his own.
“Really,” he grinned.
“Then tell me about it?” she asked playfully.
“How about we sit down over a glass of wine and I'll indulge you with the details?” Lance suggested.
“Sounds like a plan,” Lilith laughed.
“I'll be right back with the wine,” Lance said and turned to go inside.
“I'll meet you at the door,” Lilith answered.
“No, need,” Lance chuckled.
Once inside he grabbed the goblets and the bottle of blood wine he had been chilling on ice. Lance hoped that the wine would spark her memories, as it had done for others. Lance sprinted back to the balcony and climbed on the railing. He looked up when he heard Lilith gasp.
“Be careful!” she cried, “Are you crazy?”
“Maybe a little,” Lance chuckled.
He jumped across the six foot gap between the balcony and landed with cat-like reflexes in front of Lilith.
“Are you trying to give me a heart attack?” she asked, still holding a hand to her chest.
“I guess where you come from, men don't do much to impress the ladies, do they?” Lance said as he sat the goblets and wine on the small table, that was situated on the far side of the balcony.
“I wouldn't know much about that. I usually don't stick around long enough for men to try to impress me,” Lilith retorted.
Lance laughed as he uncorked the bottle, using his long well kept nails. He didn't usually show off in front of mortals, but Lilith had always been able to discern his kind from the average mortal, so there was no need to hide his true self.
He filled the goblet and handed one to Lilith. Lance took a drink and watched as Lilith inspected the goblet.
“These are really nice! I love these stones!” she said smiling.
“They match your ring,” he said and motioned towards the ring on her finger.
“They do. I've always loved black sapphires,” she said admiring the ring next to the goblet, “but I've got to ask. Do you always drink from glasses like this?”
“No, only on special occasions,” Lance said and leaned back against the rail.
“Oh, really, and what is your special occasion tonight?” she asked.
“Meeting you,” Lance grinned.
“Cocky,” Lilith said.
She rolled her eyes at Lance, but he could tell it was intended to be a playful gesture.
“So you can tell I'm a psychic?” she asked and sat back down.
“Yes,” Lance admitted, “We all can. It's not hard.”
“How do you guys do that?” she asked.
“I don't really know,” he shrugged, “and to be fair how do you do what you do?”
“Naturally, I guess,” Lilith sighed, “Can you tell what I do?”
“Yes, I can,” Lance nodded.
“How?” she asked, “All of you guys know I'm a psychic, but not many people know my abilities?”
“You remind me of someone I used to know,” Lance told her, “She had similar abilities, except the animal thing.”
“You know, you're the second person to tell me that,” Lilith laughed.
“Let me guess,” Lance said, “The other was Hunter Lingston?”
Lilith tensed and Lance could smell her fear.
“I do know what you do for a living, Lilith, but I don't hold it against you,” Lance said stepping closer to her.
