Gypsy Dreams

The heave clouds were chasing each other across the night sky, looming black and threatening in the distance. Thunder rumbled ominously in the otherwise quiet night. No lightning could be seen, but the air was charged with the kind of electric tension that only a brewing storm could produce.

It was a night to remain indoors.

So what was she doing, standing on the low wall, staring out to sea? Deanna watched as the clouds raced across the dark bay, listened to the water rushing up onto the rocks-- and waited. He would come. She knew it, just like she knew that the moment she saw him, the storm would break loose. She should be afraid. He would come, and he would take. Just as he had done throughout the years. But she didn't fear him. He wasn't deliberately cruel, and he didn't want to hurt her. She knew that, yet sometimes, when she lay awake at night, the thought of his return struck terror in her heart.

Her mother had told her--so many years ago now--that she had made a promise to him. In exchange for the life of her father, her mother had bartered the blood of the daughter. Her father had been restored to health, but her mother had never been the same again. She had tried to trick him once, pretending that Deanna had died, that the pact had ended.

He had laughed in her face and gone to Deanna's room--to take what he had been promised. Now it was time again to face him.

Standing there, her long hair being tossed by the increasing wind, she knew the time was near. She couldn't remember what he looked like. It had always been dark and he had never let her see his face. All she remembered were his soothing hands on her shoulders, the sting of sharp teeth at her neck.

This time she was determined to see what he looked like. This time she would not wait in the quiet bedroom in the old house, like she had done so many times in the past.

Because of him, and his pact with her mother, she was doomed to stay in the small coastal town. Because of him, she was shunned by the townsfolk. They all whispered behind her back, calling her names, calling a gypsy. A witch. Only 22 years old, and she was already an outcast. Because of him.

But not for much longer. This time he would have to release her from her mother's promise--or kill her.

The wind whipped her long hair across her face and she brushed it away with impatient hands,but as soon as she had managed to push the unruly mane back, another gust blew it straight back. This was no good. How was she supposed to see him? Angry with the elements, she wrestled her hair into a braid, then discovered that she had nothing to bind it with. So she held on to the end of the braid and continued watching the storm.

A low chuckle behind her back made her stiffen. Was he there? Slowly she turned, expecting to see some kind of hideous monster.

There was no monster. Just Keefe Wingate, the town rebel, sitting on a stone wall a short distance away.

"What are you doing out here?"

"Could ask you the same question." Keefe drawled, his gaze drifting along her body, taking in the way the wind molded her flimsy dress against those lush curves. "You're not exactly dressed for hanging around in a storm."

She wrapped her arms around herself as if it would protect her from his gaze. "None of your business."

"Is it true what they say? That you're a witch?" He cocked his head to one side, still watching her appreciatively. "You got something to do with this storm?"

"Yeah, sure. I summon the elements. Of course. Whyever not? I seem to do everything else around here. Make cows go dry, make crop circles, talk to aliens. Heck, I'm even to blame that Elena Sutcliffe broke her best dish the other week."

"Did I say I believe that nonsense?"

"No, I guess not." She lowered her gaze, then glanced out to sea again. "You should go."

"Why? You gotta turn me into a frog if I don't?" He grinned at her, then winked. "I don't think so."

"Look, it's not a good night to be hanging around here. Believe me. I don't want anyone to get hurt." She gave him a wary look. "Not even you."

"Really." Keefe rose to his feet and walked towards her. "And what what did I do to deserve the mercy of the mighty Deanna Reardon? Hm?"

She swiftly got off her vantage point on the wall, moving with cat-like grace. "Nothing. Please, just leave me be."

His eyes narrowed. "You're scared. Of me?"

"No. I'm not scared. Not of you. Not of anything." She hurried to set him straight. "Please, just leave."

"I don't want to. I want to know why you have a look on your face as if you had been chosen as some kind of sacrifice."

He hit a little too close to the truth for her liking. "I'm not a sacrifice."

"Of course not. So stop looking like you were." Keefe stepped closer. "After all, what can happen to you? I'm here, I won't let anyone hurt you."

"Pardon? I don't need you. Not now, not anytime. I don't remember asking for protection, either." She stepped away from him.

"Deanna, I know why you're out here. I know who you're waiting for." Keefe grasped her wrist, despite her swift retreat. "Wouldn't it be much easier if you killed him? You'd be free of him then."

"Let me go. You are talking nonsense. I'm not waiting for anyone. I don't know what you're talking about." She struggled against his grip on her wrist, but couldn't free herself. "Please Keefe, let go of my wrist."

He let go. "I see."

Deanna rubbed her wrist. Damn, the man had a grip like a vise. "You see what?"

"It must be fun to screw a vampire. Why else would you be out here, waiting for him?"

She stilled, closing her eyes in despair. How did he know about him? Suddenly what he'd said sank in and her eyes flew open in shock. "You think...you think I'm...! Are you nuts? I'm not--" she hesitated to say it, but felt she had no choice, "I'm not screwing anyone. Least of all a...vampire."

"Really." came the mocking reply. "Next thing you tell me you're as pure as the driven snow."

"Why should I tell you such a thing? You wouldn't believe me anyway."

"I might."

Deanna rolled her eyes. "Yeah, right."

"Did you ever think that being a virgin might be what makes you so attractive to this guy?" Keefe leaned back against the low wall, crossing his feet at the ankles.

"How do you know what he is, anyway?"

"I know. He went into your house last year. The next day you had a bitemark on your neck." He stared at her with a serious expression. "I notice things, you know?"

"So it seems." She cast a fearful look out into the bay. The storm was here--but he wasn't. Or was he hiding somewhere in the shadows, waiting for Keefe to leave?

"He won't come while I'm here."

"How do you know?"

"I just do." Keefe shrugged.

"You said you saw him. What does he look like?" Deanna wanted to know.

"Don't you know? After all--you're the one he comes to bite, not me."

Deanna flinched at his words, but gave no answer.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that." Keefe stepped close again, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. "It's been going on for quite some time, hasn't it? About 16 years?" How did he know? Deanna shot him a worried look. She'd let him touch her, but right now she wasn't so sure that she was safe with him there and she pulled away. "What makes you think that?"

"Weather patterns." He shrugged, looking up at the ominous black clouds. "You don't know what I do for a living, do you?"

"No."

"I'm a meteorologist. I study weather patterns on the side. This storm...we have had one every 360 days, for the past 16 years. And the epicenter is always right above your house. Odd, don't you think?"

It made sense to her. Perfect sense. "So what's your point?"

"This stuff is never forecast. It's never affecting any of the neighboring towns. And it's regular as clockwork."

"So?"

"When I worked it out that another one is due tonight, I started watching you. And hey presto, here you are, waiting for the monster." Keefe drew her back into his embrase. " It worried me. One day he's either going to take too much, or he'll make you one of them. Either way, I don't like the outcome. You don't deserve to be treated like that. So I figured I should do something about it."

"Oh really. Like what? Brought your stakes, have you?" Deanna mocked. "Holy water? Garlic?"

"You forgot the crucifix." Keefe laughed.

"Doesn't work."

"Oh, okay. No crucifix then. Guess he's an atheist."

It made her chuckle. "You're not so bad, are you? It's all pretense."

"Yeah well, don't kid yourself. I can be as bad as they come." His arms tightened around her. "But not with you. Never with you. You never treat me like a leper." His voice was soft, almost like a caress. Deanna felt a warm rush of feeling wash through her. How long since someone had hugged her? How long since someone had listened to her? Too long. Still...her visitor had never really harmed her, he had always taken extreme care with her. She didn't want him dead. She just wanted him to leave her alone, no more. "Keefe, I know what you think he does. But he's never been cruel. I don't want him to die. It's not his fault he's like this, and if he really wanted to, he could kill me easily. Please don't hurt him."

"Well isn't that just like you. Standing up for a monster." Keefe laughed. "You're something else, you know that?"

"Let me deal with him when he comes. Please?"

"Maybe."

"Not maybe. Definitely." Deanna insisted. "Please. I'lld anything you want, just don't try to hurt him."

Keefe's eyebrows shot up questioningly. "Anything?"

She caught her lower lip between her teeth. After a moment's hesitation, she nodded.

"Shall we test that theory?"

Deanna's eyes lifted to his, wide and frightened. "What do you mean?"

He smiled wickedly. "Can't you guess?"

Her heart hammered against her ribcage in a frantic stakkato. Yes, she could guess what he wanted. But that didn't mean she'd do it.

"Indeed." Keefe confirmed her unspoken admission. "Right here, right now."

"I can't." Deanna stammered, trying to draw out of his arms. "Please. What if...what if he sees us! He might kill you for it!"

"What a way to go." Keefe grinned.

Deanna shook her head. "No, no I can't!"

"Won't, you mean." Keefe loosened his hold on her. " Think about it. If you let me make love to you--he might never come back for you. Maybe what he wants is virgin blood? Maybe that's all there is to it?"

"And what if you're wrong?"

"That's a chance you have to take. If I'm wrong, I'll do my best to keep him away from you. I promise."

"What if someone else sees us?"

"They won't. But if anyone comes by...they think the worst of anyway. Something like that won't make it any worse. We don't have a reputation to ruin, now do we?"

She nodded.

"See? We can go down on the beach, and no one is ever going to be any the wiser." He stepped away and held out his hand to her.

"You promise you won't try anything to hurt, or kill him?"

"Yes, I promise."

Deanna breathed deeply of the cool night air, then took his hand. "I'm warning you, I've never done this. It won't be any fun for you."

Keefe just chuckled at that. "I'll make it fun. For both of us. Don't you worry."

Deanna stood on the narrow beach and suddenly felt very afraid. She'd never done anything like this before. Eyeing Keefe in the darkness, she hoped he would take care with her. What if he was rough? What if she didn't enjoy it? He was so much bigger than her, he could easily hurt her...

Keefe gently tugged on her hand. "Hey...Don't be afraid. Nothing bad is going to happen, I promise."

"I really don't want to do this...here." Deanna said quietly. "Can't we go somewhere else?"

"I would take you home with me, but I might end up homeless afterwards." Keefe smiled apologetically. "My landlady is a nice woman when you come to look at the place. After you move in, you get to see the scales of the dragon."

Deanna laughed. "Sounds dreadful."

He sighed heartily. "Yeah...it is."

"We could go to my house."

"We could." Keefe nodded. "But so can our friend."

"But at least no one else would see us." She looked back to the staires they had just climbed down. "I feel a little--" Keefe cut her off by sealing her lips with his. Deanna's eyes flew open, then closed again when warmth spread throughout her body, the heat of his kiss making her legs quiver. She clung to Keefe, giving herself up to him. His tongue stroked hers, coaxing it to repond. His hands began, to wander, stroking upward towards her ribcage, then down again, cupping her backside to bring her closer.

"Damn you taste good." he muttered between two kisses. "I knew you would."

Encouraged, Deanna let her hands slide under his jacket, hesitantly stroking his sides.

"Yes...touch me." he breathed into her ear, then traced the delicate shell with his tongue. "Don't be afraid. Do whatever you like. You won't object."

Deanna buried her face in the crook of his neck and began to learn him with her hands. Her fingertips slip up his chest, then down again. He was waring too many clothes. A tug on his t-shirt pulled it out from his waistband, and she let her hands slide beneath. A slight gasp escaped her lips when she encountered hot skin over hard muscles. Awed by the strength she sensed in him, she felt her way along smooth muscle up to his chest. Finding a hard nipple there, she lightly tugged on it, eliciting a harsh groan from him.

"Geez...for someone who has never done this before you are doing pretty good..."Keefe rasped.

She smiled against his neck and continued to pluck and tease his nipples. Every jerk, every groan, told her that she had to be doing something right. A gast left her throat when he tightened his hold on her, swung her around and brought her tightly up against him. He was leaning with his back against the flood wall to steady himself, while he kept her body so close, Deanna thought she might merge with him. Then his grip loosened, his hands sliding down her back until he could reach for the hem of her dress. Slowly, ever so slowly, he lifted it, until he could slide his hands underneath.

Feeling his hands on her backside made her stiffen. She had never let anyone touch her there. But his hands were warm and gentle, so she relaxed. He caressed her almost bare cheeks, gradually moving his hands higher. Deanna's breath came in short gasps by the time he reached the bottom of her breasts. She held her breath, waiting for that inevitable touch--but it didn't come. Her eyes lifted to his, questioning his intentions. Keefe smiled and shook his head.

"Take off your dress." he whispered into her ear."Let me see you."

Suddenly very self-conscious, Deanna glanced over her shoulder, "I..I.."

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