Ashes to Ashes, Dust to Dust - Jessica Dalton (i have read the book .txt) 📗

felt the need to dress up to make myself look better either and I had never seen the point in wearing make up - if people said the only good part of looks was my complexion then why cover it up with make up? And my eyelashes were long and dark enough without mascara.

Right now I was wearing comfortable jeans, low boots and a t-shirt. - I was five foot nine - I also didn’t feel the need to wear high heels and my legs were slim so the height would do nothing for them.

Shake Your Pom Pom’s by Missy Elliott came through the speakers and I laughed and turned up the volume as I half danced in my seat, shaking my head from side to side causing my long hair to whip from side to side.

Tears slid down my cheeks to replace the laughter as the song came to an end. It would take a long time to except the fact that I would never see Jaz again and to feel okay about it, but I was determined to feel okay again one day, for Jaz’s sake. She had always been full of life and happy and optimistic about everything. I let the tears and the sobbing take over as ‘Sex on Fire’ by the Kings of Leon rocked out of my speakers and I tried to concentrate on driving. Jaz would kick my ass if I turned up in heaven less than a week after her because of a car accident no less. Yeah that wouldn’t go down too well.

Little did I know that I would be getting up close and personal with death and things much much worse than death from then on.

One month later.

“excuse me young lady I was wondering if I could ask you something?”

“sure.” I said as I squeezed off the last of the bulletts in my Berretta PX4. I hit the button on the wall beside my head and waited for the target sheet to come up to me.

Every single one of my shots had hit the chest, I swapped my Berretta for my Smith and Wesson hand gun and lined up for my next target. I always did this at the end of shift at the shooting range. Practice makes perfect. I had always worked in shooting ranges since I was sixteen - Jaz’s dad had owned one in our town and he had given us the jobs as soon as we asked for them. Hence the fact that I am an excellent shot.

I wasn’t ignoring the old man beside me I was just concentrating on what I was doing. As soon as I hit the button to bring forward my target sheet I put the safety’s back on my guns and reloaded them.

“what can I do for you?” I asked him as I watched the sheet come toward me.

“I was wondering how someone as young as you were such a good shot.“ the old dude said. His voice sounded young but the way he spoke and the fact that he had called me ‘young lady’ kinda’ indicates that he is old.

“My best friends dad owned a shooting range back home in Ireland - we both worked there since we were 16 and as a bonus her dad taught us how to shoot.” I told him as I finally turned around to face him.

The room was dark not too dark but the man was standing in the shadows so I couldn’t see his face. He was surprisingly tall, for some reason I had expected a small, stooped man.

“well your shot is perfect, graceful even. I haven‘t seen anyone shoot that well in many, many years.”

It was true, I had been the best shot out of everyone who had frequented Joe O’Boyles shooting range back home and everybody at this shooting range as well.

I didn’t know what to say in response so instead I said “is there anything I can get you? I‘m finished work now but if you need anything? Some shooting lessons……?” I asked.

The old guys laugh echoed through the range. It was then that I noticed that we were all alone.

“you could not teach me anything young lady - it would be I who would be teaching you if that were the case. No I would like your help in different matters.”

I frowned at the man in front of me. He had just told me that I was an excellent shot but that he was better than me - well that would be interesting, for an old guy he must have brilliant eye sight and steady hands.

“well unless the help you need is work related then I don‘t see what I can do for you.” I told him.

“I want you to let me train you. Not with guns - you can already do that - but in martial arts I could teach you how to out run the fastest moving target, I could teach you how to disarm someone who is across the room from you in seconds flat. would you help me by letting me teach you these things?” he asked me.

I wanted to ask him why he would want to teach me, some stranger to do these things but when I opened my mouth to ask only laughter came out. Gut wrenching laughter. I had to hold my stomach and bend over I was laughing so much.

“what are you laughing at?” he asked in a confused voice.

I controlled my giggles, stood up straight and wiped the tears from my eyes.

“you are going to teach me all of that? An old man is going to teach me martial arts and how to move nearly as fast as a bullet?” I had to swallow my laughs this time so that I wouldn’t offend the senile old man any further. I would have to ring the Canadian police before I left work and ask if they were missing any old senile war veterans.

“what old man? I said I would teach you.” he said as he stepped closer to me and into the light.

I gasped and instinctively took two quick steps back and banged into the wall behind me. I grabbed one of my guns - by the feel and weight of it it was my Berretta. I let it hang losely in my hands. I didn’t feel threatened enough to point it at him. He had just surprised me was all.

The man in front of me was not old at all, he was maybe mid to late twenties and he was the most handsomest man I had ever laid eyes on. My legs felt week just looking at him. But it was his eyes that had made me reach for my gun. They were dangerously beautiful looking. The color of liquid gold. I had never seen anything so beautiful in my life.

A slow smile formed on his perfect lips as he took in my reaction. He nodded in approval at the gun in my hand.

“that was a good idea. Already I can tell that you are going to be brilliant at your new job. You‘re sense for my kind will keep you alive my dear girl and that is another reason why I chose you.”

“chose me? Who are you and what do you mean your kind?”

“my name is Dimitri and I am a Vampire.”

I felt the air whoosh out of my lungs. I had never believed in Vampires but for some reason as soon as he told me he was one I believed him. It was his eyes and the predatory look he gave me that had me thinking he wasn’t human as soon as he walked into the light. It was the reason why I had reached for my gun.

“what is your name?” he asked me as he locked eyes with me.

I felt compelled to tell him everything about myself in that one look. But I managed to just spit out my name.

“Phoenix.”

“well Phoenix welcome to the world of Night.”

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Vote and comment please JJJ

© jamessica stories; 2010.
All rights Reserved.
Reproduction of this story or taking of ideas in any way is prohibited; and illegal


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Chapter 2

“Phoenix?” I heard my name being called as though from a distance. I looked up to see Dimitri searching my face. His eyes were so mesmerising.

“hmmm?” was my only coherent response.

“we‘ve arrived at your apartment.” he told me as he nodded behind me.

I spun around to look out the passenger window, and sure enough we were parked in front of my apartment. I blinked a few times before turning back to look at Dimitri who wasn’t in the car anymore, I blinked once more and he was standing next to me opening my door and helping me out of his Bentley Continental GT Black Bisson - hey I know my cars, and even though I love Tallula dearly - I stood by the saying - looking isn’t cheating.

It had been less than an hour ago that I had met my first vampire but it felt as though weeks had passed since Dimitri had walked into my life and had told me what he wanted my help with. Suddenly I felt a near hysterical urge to laugh and cry at the same time.

Right now I was standing in the lift on my way up to my apartment with a vampire - who could do what ever he wanted with me and I could do nothing to protect myself. My hand instantly went to my Berretta that was sitting comfortably next to my breast in my shoulder holster. My Smith and Wesson was safely locked up in my locker at the shooting range.

“if I wanted you dead Phoenix. You would be dead.” Dimitri was suddenly very close to me, his lips skimming my ear as he spoke in a dangerously low voice. Reaching around me he pushed my hand off the butt of my gun. “You’re not quick enough yet for that gun to help you if I had suddenly decided I was hungry.”

A shiver ran through my body, it had nothing to do with the close proximity of our bodies, or the way we were standing in a sort of embrace in a small space, no the shiver was caused by pure fear. He was right, I could feel the power radiating off him, he screamed danger and yet here I was trusting him with my life. Did I even have a choice?

“yes, Phoenix, you do have a choice - I won‘t do anything to you if you decide not to help me.”

I stepped out of his embrace only to back myself into a corner. Even if I was able to use my gun - I wouldn’t be able to now, seeing as I had no room to move to pull my gun free of its holster.

“can you read minds?” I asked breathlessly.

A magical laugh erupted out of Dimitris perfect lips. “that my dear girl is something that Hollywood fabricated for their movies. However, if someone is experiencing strong emotions such as fear, then I can feel them as well. I have also been alive