Vampire Queen's Soulmate

Dante's End

"Do you know how long I have been queen, Dante?"

Dante looked down at this woman, who was calmly straightening his clothes after throwing him across the room using nothing but her mind. He did know how long she'd been queen. Way before he'd ever been thought of on this earthly plane.

"Centuries, madam. Longer than I care to think. And yet, you would never know it to look at you. What is your secret?" Dante teased lightly, hoping she would take it easy on him.

"You are correct, my love. Centuries. I have been ruling by myself for hundreds of years. I fought to become the sole ruler of this hemisphere. The Creator of Darkness personally saw to my training, when she saw who I was becoming. Did you know that?" Esme asked sweetly.

"You have seen Mother?" Dante swallowed audibly. He did NOT know this piece of information. The Creator of Darkness, or Mother as she was known to the vampire world, was the first vampire. She was as old as the earth itself, and it was rare that she showed herself to anyone anymore. She was known to be diabolical, an evil force that would end a vamp for no reason other than she felt like it. Some vamps made sacrifices to her in the hope that she would bless them with even more power and special abilities.

"Yes, Dante. I have seen Mother. It was she who blessed me, she who trained me to defeat the ruler at the time. He was unfit, as were the few before him," Esme replied. She smiled as she smoothed her hands one more time over his chest. Her arms at her side, she changed her stance just slightly. Dante recognized it, but said nothing.

"I will not repeat myself after this. I will not tolerate disrespect, publicly nor privately. You are in my bed and my heart because I wish you to be there. Do not abuse your privileges, my love," Esme said. She reached up and wound her arms around his neck, pressing her body close to his enticingly. She brought his head down, and pressed her lips against his.

"Do we have an understanding, Dante?" she whispered against his lips, her tongue darting in quickly to lick at his tongue. Dante groaned. He reached down and gripped her backside, pressing her up against his erection. He was going to miss this about her. She could fire him up in an instant, no matter the mood he was in.

"Yes, my love. I will behave, I promise," he replied, rocking his hips against hers. Esme smiled again.

"See that you do," she quipped. She reached between them and stroked him through his pants, following the line of him through the contours of the fabric. Dante groaned again, and picked her up, depositing her on the couch. He tore her dress, splitting it down the middle, tearing her underclothes away to reveal her body. He never got tired of seeing her nude. She was perfect in form, lush curves that took his breath away. He tore his own clothes off to join her nakedness.

Esme's breaths came in short pants. She was still angry, and knew that he planned her demise. Let him think she had no idea. She would have the last laugh, when the time came. Until that time came, she would enjoy this part of him. He was a marvelous lover. She looked up at him between her legs, his erection bobbing up and down with desire. Her eyes narrowed with lust, she leaned back on the couch and touched herself at her core, the second hand tugging at a n****e, pleasuring herself in front of him. Inserting a finger in her already drenched core, she moaned.

"I am ready for you already, my love," she breathed, licking the finger that had just been inside her body. Dante let out a growl and pushed her legs further apart, his manhood seeking entrance to her feminine portal. With a loud cry, he pushed inside her, loving how her muscles immediately clenched around him. They began the timeless movements of lovemaking, each giving their all, both caught up in the emotions of the moment, and the fight before. Before long, they were climaxing together, their cries echoing throughout the room. They lay together, spent, restful at last.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

One year later...

Dante lay on the ground, bleeding profusely. This was the end. He had tried his best, at least they could say that about him in the years to come. He waited as long as he possibly could, training hard. He had mastered the ability to mimic and manipulate energies. He killed Esme's closest confidant and servant this way. As Esme fed from Blaine, Dante drained the life force from Blaine. Esme immediately believed it had been her, taken back to her early days as a vamp, when she had drained so many others not realizing how powerful she really was.

Dante hated Blaine. Blaine had been with Esme since she first took the throne. He was the one Esme went to for advice on everything, the one Esme laughed with about random things, the one Esme had doing special tasks, speaking with highly important people on her behalf. Blaine was the one everyone wanted to talk to. Not Dante. They sneered at him, made fun of him behind his back, and some who were bold enough, to his face. These upstarts met their doom at one point or another. Nobody disrespected him and got away with it.

It almost pained Dante to kill Blaine, as Blaine had never been anything but nice to Dante. He went out of his way to be sure Esme's lover was taken care of in every way. Always solicitous and kind, yet Dante read between the lines. Blaine only tolerated him for Esme's sake. Well, no more. He was out of the way, and now Dante could wreak havoc, destroy the Queen, and take over as King.

Only... Esme had been smart. He should have known. The kiss he had originally been with, the one he publicly denounced, had been helping him in secret. They had a rivalry with Esme that spanned several hundred years. He never knew the details, but figured it had to do with Esme becoming queen, and one of theirs getting killed in the process. They were adamant that Dante had what it took to be king, and did everything they could to train him to take on the Queen.

But now... Esme had eliminated the kiss, painstakingly, methodically. She had been ruthless in her assassinations. Now, Dante was the only one left, and soon he would be gone too. Esme was taking her time with him. Torturing him. He knew she was deadly, but he had truly underestimated her. His kiss assured him that his powers would be enough to eliminate her. They were horribly, horribly wrong. She was a mastermind at her craft, had spent centuries training before she became queen, and still continued her training after. He had seen her what she was capable of, had tasted her powers before, and still he thought he would have come out on top. He coughed and spit blood on the ground next to him. This wasn't good. The end was near. Where was she?

She had disappeared moments ago after playing with him. Using nothing but her mind, she had tossed him in the air, high up in the sky above the trees. Held him up there, then dropped him a few feet, threw him up again, down almost to hitting the ground, then back up, before slamming his body to the earth. She'd done this a few times already, after going hand to hand with him. The woman could fight. Her fists were relentless.

Esme had lured him to this secluded area by her home. It was private, no one would hear Dante's pleading for mercy. She had also waited patiently, waiting for Dante to f**k up so badly there was no coming back. She felt so good getting rid of that kiss. They had always been a pain in the ass, even before she took the throne. They were supposed to be her friends once upon a time, and instead they stabbed her in the back. Not any longer. No longer would they be able to cause her trouble. The end was so close, she could taste it, and she loved it.

She heard Dante calling to her. She smiled, her fangs glinting in the moonlight. How fitting that she should get rid of this traitor on the full moon. Release that which no longer serves you.

Esmeline appeared in front of the dying vamp. She wore an interesting article of clothing this night. The black dress looked as if it were in tatters. The fabric was loose, wrapped about her in a way that wasn't constricting. It flowed with her movements, in the wind. It was the perfect amount of dramatics for her. Her hair was tied up in a bun on top of her head, long curls blowing around her face. Even now, Dante admired her beauty.

"My love!" he cried out weakly. Esme's eyes flashed angrily.

"Ha! What love," she snapped, "that is what love is to you, eh? Conspire to kill the woman you love?" She stood over him, and then dropped to her knees, straddling his middle. Dante smiled a bloody smile.

"I was wrong...I... I thought it would be easy. They said it would...... but I was wrong..." he struggled to get the words out. Esme leaned over him, looking into his eyes. As she stared at him, her eyes turned to black, the stars and the moon falling in them. Dante grew terrified, not knowing why, as he had seen her eyes change before. Something was different now. Something else was in her.

"Do you know why my eyes do this, Dante?" she asked, her voice changing. It became deeper, rasping. Not her sweet voice.

"N-N-N-Nooooo," Dante stammered, shaking now.

"Meet your Mother, Dante. I am she, the Creator of Darkness," Esme rasped. She leaned down and whispered in his ear, "Goodbye my love. I will never forget you, and what you have done." Dante closed his eyes. Unfortunately, the Mother had different ideas. His eyes were forced open, his eyelids ripped off, so he couldn't close them again.

Esme, being taken over by the darkness, sat up. Her movements were controlled, quick. She dug her fingers into Dante's chest, and ripped him open, splitting his flesh and bone to expose his still beating heart. She reached in, claws elongating from her hands, and pulled his heart up from his body. Dante watched in horror as Esme held his heart in front of him before his eyes. Suddenly, a peaceful feeling came over him. Finally, it was over.

She pulled his heart apart, blood spraying everywhere. She threw her head to the sky and screamed, a wordless sound that poured out of her. She screamed the pain that she felt, at having to do this to someone she once loved. He'd never hurt anyone else ever again.

Esme dropped the pieces of heart to the side. She looked down at Dante, watched him take a final breath, the life already gone from his eyes. She stood up, his blood dripping down her body, off her clothes, streaking her face. Time to do what needed to be done. She was, after all, Queen of Vampires.