The Pella Series - Chapter IV - The Sundown

SUNDOWN

CHAPTER IV

Alexander Aurelius Pella

When I walk back into my office, Henry is waiting for me.

“Why did you cross paths with Elissa? I thought we agreed you wouldn't do that until she fully regained her memories,” I say accusingly to Henry.

“I wanted to be sure...” he says pausing, finally completely believing who he’s met outside. Doc is as affected by her sight as Elissa was by his appearance. “Besides, she’s my godchild. It’s been over two centuries since I’ve seen her. You’re not the only one who cares for her, sir,” he says in his Southern gentleman tone, his gaze matching mine. “I wanted to see her up close even if it was for a few seconds.”

“You know it’s dangerous for her. I don’t know what it would do to her. You know the rules!”

“She did not see my face, Alexander!” 

“My God Henry, you look like you just walked out of 1802! It may elicit an adverse response in her, and you know that it may be detrimental to her! I can’t take the chance. You don’t see me dressing up in a cuirass armor to trigger her earlier memories!” I scold him.

“Maybe you should, Alexander! Because you don’t know who will reach her first before you unlock her memories! And besides, I have a mind of my own and know what is best for her well-being. Stop expecting me to hail down to you like one of your former Praetorians, Alexander. Anthony can and is doing that quite well for both of us...” he says smirking, and then adds in a somber tone, “But, I am your friend; it is a title I don’t afford loosely to anyone. In fact when I count friends in all my 251 years of existence, the numbers barely sum up more than half a dozen. The longer we live, the more jealous we grow of our existences. But it means nothing to me if I can’t lay my life down for you, or Miss Ellie should it come to that,” he says. 

I nod somberly knowing the truth in his words. I have existed over 2360 years, but I’ve never met anyone as loyal as Henry and Anthony in all my existence who is worthier in calling a friend. I trust both of them implicitly; but I still have to be the final authority; it can’t be helped when it comes to Elissa.  

“What’s in the agenda for tomorrow?” Henry asks to change the topic.

“Quite a few items... But, have you and your team screened all the approved prospective bidders?”

“Yes. Some of the bottomless coin purses have disputable reputation requiring me to delve more into their business affairs. I will have to get back to you on that. You may have to assess their characters for yourself tomorrow.”

“What’s the country of origin of those buyers?”

“Peru.”

“Anyone we know?”

“No one we've done business with in the past.”

“What are they interested in buying?”

“They’re supposedly establishing a new tourism company with their own fleet of passenger aircrafts to accommodate all the tourists to predetermined locations.”

“Sounds alright...” I observe, but I know there’s more.

“That’s just it. It only sounds alright up to this point. Then it becomes a shithole. They secured $100 million to purchase five new Airbus 321 with passenger configuration. The company doesn’t have a bank vouching for them, and no one has heard of them until three years ago. The funds appear to be coming from unknown sources.”

I think about that for a minute. What does the company have to conceal by hiding their very large monetary sources? If no bank was vouching for them, the money had to come from someplace.

“Clearly, they’re not paying such a sum in cash. It has to be deposited someplace.”

“It’s deposited in a Southeast Asian bank account.”

“Is that all they want? Five A321s with PAX configuration?”

“No. They want to know if they can purchase three drones. It’s going to be an $89 billion Dollar industry in the next decade, and they want their hands on some. They also want two Sikorsky S-92 helicopters with speed configurations, secret compartments and all the luxury bells and whistles for high end clients as well as two Sikorsky X2s.”

“X2s?” I ask surprised. “That’s for speed. It can fly at more than 300 mph. It’s a remarkable machine but...” I contemplate. “There are too many red flags for this all to be for a tourism company. It is possible that they might take extreme sports lovers for a fast ride, but I want you to dig deeper. I smell the Godfather behind the Olive Oil Company. I want to be satisfied with... ” I say but I don’t get a chance to finish my sentence. I feel the creeping visions. Fuck! Air hisses through my teeth. Elissa is in trouble. I try to push the visions away, but to no avail.

“Alexander!” Henry shouts.

“Get to Elissa! She’s in trouble!”

“But you...”

“If she’s dreaming while driving, she’ll get killed! She doesn’t know how to control her memories!” I pronounce as my head is pounding and my visions are trickling their way in. I try to push the flood gates closed. I close my eyes and try to focus; it takes immense control, but I have learned to shut them out. This time however, I want to know what she’s dreaming about. What is she learning about our past?

“Go Henry!” I growl through gritted teeth.

Without a word, Henry runs out of the office. Unlike Elissa, I can remain here and now if the memories flood through me. I relax, and let them take over my mind.

“Fire at the Four Winds!” yells young Jesse Caswell running. My heart lurches and then falls into the abyss with an excruciating distress. Elissa and the twins are at home, at the Four Winds! Everyone rushes to their feet out of the Casa, and nobody has to tell me that this is no ordinary fire: the twin seals on my wrists start burning reminding me the approaching doom already. As fast as my feet could carry me outside of the Casa housing the ranch hands, I whistle for Bucephalus who comes on a fast trot towards me. He understands the urgency in my voice. I jump on my horse with a horrible tug at my heart, and vaguely realize that everyone is running to their horses to reach to the Four Winds.  But all is in vain. The only one who isn't hurrying is the old Indian Nieto, but I could care less for that right now. He is crouching on the ground as if listening to the winds, his bottomless eyes closed.

                I crack the whip, and dig my spurs on my horse’s flesh, and order with determination.

“Run like the wind B!”

The darkness of the night gives nothing away, hides everything like the secrets of Hades, oddly nothing stirs or can be heard except the harsh breathing of Bucephalus as if his lungs are ready to burst through his nostrils and my whip that rushes him into his deadly run. I feel Elissa’s soul shredding scream rather than hearing it, and that’s worse because it makes me feel helpless, useless, and ready to fight to the eternal death just to save her. I push my horse beyond his limits to get to her! The two miles ride stretches as if it’s two hundred miles! I couldn't even dare to breathe when my soul is ripping apart inside. I am willing to negotiate with the devil himself just to save her. Surrender my soul to be shredded by the hell hounds just so she would live, and not be put through the torture she would be in the hands of the Fallen Angels.

“Alexander! Get the girls!” I finally hear her voice, begging, and if could fly, I would grow wings and get there right then.

“Run faster!” I roar and crack the whip upon my horse’s rump once more. My eyes are fixed at the consuming ball of fire surrounding our great house, the Four Winds. I hear distant hoof beats, and my name and hers shouted behind, but I pay no attention to anyone else. Their efforts will be fruitless; I know that. It is only me, and one other who could make a difference.

“We’re coming Mr. Pella!” someone yells in the distance.

“Miss Ellie!!” I hear one of the ranch hands scream behind. No one answers. Visions stir before my eyes, and a deep, familiar pain searing my soul is pulling me apart, reminding me of my duty, and the impending sacrificial death...of the only woman I ever loved. Tears sting my eyes, but I refuse to shed them, holding onto my horse’s reins hard, my spurs digging into its flesh willing him to fly, and yet, the Four Winds feels so fucking far away!

“Faster! Run faster!” I order my horse with agony in my voice, my eyes fixed ahead on the enveloping rings fire over the Four Winds.  The end must be getting closer, because the visions start stirring before my eyes of the first time she was made known to me, clouding the reality. This isn’t a first, but this time I refuse the visions; I am losing her, not knowing when I would see her again, if ever; I just want to die with her if she is to die this time. I want the ominous distance closed between us. I just want her in my arms where I feel she is safe.

“Sir! Mr. Pella!” a distant sound calls my name. Yet, it’s close by, close to my senses. Strong arms grip me; arms I cannot see.

“Mr. Pella! Please! We need you! Ellie needs you!”

I force myself out of the flood of memories but they come in an unstoppable rush. Jumbled, confusing me.

“Sit him down!” I hear an order. Henry. “Let him ride it through!”

“But, Doc! Miss Ellie!” Ellie? Elissa? I can’t get my head out of the fog, unable to swim out of the flood of rushing visions before my eyes.

“Doc?” Anthony’s voice asks packing all his concern and worry into that single word.

“I’ll examine Elissa...” I strain myself to hear him, but then memories clog my hearing to here and now.

“Nooo!” I force myself to utter.

“Doc!”

“Let him be, Anthony! He needs to break out of it on his own. Because they’re experiencing the visions together, it has to be their own mind breaking it! I’m checking El...” and the voices drown under the strain of my visions again.

The acrid smoke is choking me as if someone stuffed two hell-hounds into my nostrils. I have to get the girls out of here. Elissa’s leaving me! Leaving us! Agony grips me, suffocating my soul; bleeding me slowly me by a thousand superficial knife wounds, slicing me, torturing me painfully and pushing me back into the bottomless abyss where there is no light, no life, no existence. I call unto Zephyr, my gaze fixed on my wife for the last time, branding her image into my memory. When the horse whinnies and pushes my shoulder, I make the herculean effort to break my gaze away from my wife, and see her tormented look, and our indelible love reflected in her swollen, red rimmed eyes. I put the girls on Zephyr and holding onto his mane, I lift my leg up, and hit him with my spurs. He jumps through the imploding fire, through every barrier on his way as I lean over my daughters’ bodies instinctively protecting them. Fresh air hit my face momentarily as Zephyr speeds through the darkness, and he bucks me off his back soon after we are out of the confines of the inferno disappearing into the mist with my children on his back!

“No! No! No! Zephyr!” I scream until my voice no longer comes out, my throat is burning as I run faster than I ever did in all my existence, chasing the horse named after the Western Wind until the haze disappear, sucking everything in, including my heart, my wits, and mind; then there’s nothing. “I want my wife! I want my children!” I cry out falling into a heap on the ground, all my faculties lost, my reasons for living departed. I am shaking and limp at the same time. Not one of my loved ones comes back. My will to live drains out of me completely.

“Mr. Pella, sir! We can’t put the fire out! We can’t even get into the Four Winds! Is your family still inside, sir?” asks a familiar voice. I manage to turn my head towards the sound, and my eyes are locked with the foreman, Buck Whitman.

“What?” I ask dazed, my eyes swollen red.

“Is Miss Ellie and the girls still inside, sir?” Buck asks grief lacing his voice, not wanting to hear the obvious. I look ahead, uncomprehending. Buck Whitman shakes my shoulders forcefully.

“Mr. Pella? Is your family dead?” he asks slapping me on the face. I shove the hand that holds my shoulders and stand up abruptly holding my head between my hands rocking back and forth.

“Mr. Pella, are they dead?” another voice asks, seeking a horrendous confirmation.

“Shut up! Shut up! Shut the fuck up!!!” I scream, and my hands let go of my head, my eyes looking bewildered like a mad man, and I look around the faces standing here, watching me helpless, pitiful. I want no pity. I want to die! I want punish! I want to burn the whole world down to extinguish my searing pain! I don’t want to exist anymore. My hands find the mesquite tree nearby, and I fist my broken knuckles again painfully, and punch the rough ridges of the tree trunk over and over and over again until the cowhands wrestle me down to the ground.

“Let go of me! I want to die, too!” I scream in a hoarse, burning voice, the effort is agonizing, and I want to feel nothing; I kick my way out of their grasp, and...Though they are my kind, Nephilim, I am far stronger than they are. They try to restrain me to prevent me harming myself any further, but I struggle against them... and struggle, and struggle... and I hit the floor. Pain sears my head. My hands shaking, automatically reach to my head, then my eyes crack open. I’m looking at the legs of my ultra-modern desk and Anthony’s proffered hand. I feel dazed, horrified, and the afternoon lights are seeping through my floor to ceiling windows.

“Welcome back Alexander! Don’t think I’m rushing you or anything, but I need you right away! Elissa was nearly hit by one of our security details in the parking garage.” Doc’s voice talking about Elissa shakes me into awareness of here and now. While I try to protect her from what's outside, someone from my own security detail nearly killed her? Furious, doesn't even begin to cover what I feel. I stand up immediately ignoring Anthony’s extended hand. Elissa is lying on the sofa, unconscious. I find myself immediately rushing to her side, and lifting her into my arms. I examine her body for any injuries, and seeing none, I crush her to my chest, inhaling her scent deeply.

"Is she hit by a vehicle? Is she okay, Henry?" I ask Doc. He’s the only one who can heal her from anything which makes him extremely valuable to me.

“No, she’s not Alexander, but she’s experiencing her exit memories, as you had. I look at her worriedly. This is dangerous, but I’m yet to understand why this is happening to her in daylight hours. Is it her close proximity to Nephilim from her past, or is it something else? Or is someone sinister close to finding her? I have to find out.

 “Henry! Why are her memories flooding in daylight hours?” I ask, knowing it has never happened this way before.

“Alexander, you forget how admirably regnant you can be over people and how you enthrall the female gender, least of all Elissa,” he responds. Surely, it couldn't be just me.

“But she doesn’t recognize me as Alexander... as her...” lover, husband, and protector; one who fathered her children. I swallow, unable to bring the end of the sentence, but Henry knows. He looks at me as he’s still checking Elissa’s vitals with his stethoscope, a task hardened by my embrace of her body tightly wrapped in my arms, and he diverts his attention from his task for a brief minute to look at me and shakes his head with exasperation.

“For a first generation topflight Nephilim, a man whose skills are so legendary in such a way that the sentiments afflict those who have heard the mention of such endowments in a single individual with avarice which you are keenly aware of and you have the capability to descry those individuals from continents away; yet, you are sometimes quite inept in recognizing the feelings of the one who has always been the closest to you,” he says in his Southern gentleman tone.

“How so?” I ask curiously, perhaps seeking to reaffirm Elissa’s feeling for me. He sighs.

“In short, Alexander, her soul recognizes yours. Her body is drawn to you like she would never be drawn to anyone else. Amor sempiternus, Alexandros! Numquam periit amor... Etiam in morte, superset amor,” he explains in one of the languages of my initial existence; invoking my perpetual, ever growing, boundless love for Elissa.

I swallow, and look down longingly at the woman who is infinitely attracted to me but doesn’t recognize who I am, or what she means to me. “Eternal love, you say. I know that love never dies... I know that in death love survives... But the agony, the fear of losing her again is making me a lunatic.”

“That’s the spirit! Omnes amantes sunt amentes! Amare et sapere vix deo conceditur,” he says, grinning at me.

“You say that ‘all lovers are lunatics! And, even a god finds it hard to love and be wise at the same time.’ Surely, keeping all your mental faculties about wasn’t why you didn't open the doors of your steel heart to someone worthy,” I speculate to draw a reaction from him. It works. Even after being around someone over two hundred years, you manage to learn something new.

“Once...” he says softly, and then pauses. “A very long time ago, before I pledged my friendship and existence to Marcus... Look how you wait for this one woman for all eternity and never allow someone else in yours. Because, someone else would never do, could never take her place!” he says fervently and adds, “But unlike yours, mine is never coming back.  And if she was, you could bet your very long existence that I would do everything in my power to recapture her heart. So, you, my friend better succeed in recapturing her affection, reveries, attention and her heart with the same passion and gusto like you've made your way into three continents when you were only 20 years of age, conquered most of the known world in eleven fucking short years when people can’t even finish one single battle today despite the fact that all involved parties possess all the modern machinery and weaponry. Because, Alexander, they don’t have your heart, your passion, your resilience, your courage. You are indeed one of a kind my friend; so do it for the rest of us who wish we had another chance!” he says sternly as he looks me pointedly. He also conveniently leaves out the fact that, my success was partly due to the fact that I’m ruthless when it comes to my enemies.

I press Elissa to my chest even closer, rubbing her hair, looking at her yearningly. I’m close enough to her not to let air pass through between us, yet our distance is still centuries away. How do I close the gap? What if something happened to her? Even the speculation of it is harrowing. I have to have her close to me at all times! The need to protect her is so overwhelming, thinking of her going out of my sight is excruciating.

“Mind your thoughts, and words Alexander... She’ll be hearing us soon even though she won’t wake up yet,” Doc reminds me. I can break through the memories, because I’ve existed long enough to develop the capability, but she can’t. She has to experience it all like the fledgling plants coming out of the ground in the first of spring.

I am so focused on her; the knock on my door startles me.

“What?” I bellow. James enters.

“Apologies sir,” he answers chagrined. “Miss Angelique Montesquieu and Miss Kimberly Collingsworth are quite insistent on meeting with you, sir.”

“Do you realize that I’m attending an emergency?” I say, my gaze dark, completely forbidding, and intensely focused on him. He withers and lowers his voice. Had he not worked for me for over a century, he wouldn't be able to withstand my wrath.

“No... I mean, yes, sir. They’re just high profile clients who are each intending to spend fifteen million Dollars out of their own funds at the auctions next week, they have said, and they’re also representing some high bidding international companies. And, they were hoping to...” he starts explain, but I have no patience for them.

“Every investor and prospective buyer must follow a certain protocol regardless of how much money they intend to spend next week! They are no exceptions to the rule, and I want to imprint this bit of information in to your mind that the client’s bra size or their spread legs do not provide an access through my doors! Our clients don’t buy aircrafts from us because I need something from them, but because I possess what they need, and what they can’t get elsewhere. Do you get me clearly James?”

“I perfectly understand sir. They insinuated that they know you...” he says, but I cut him mid-sentence.

“I don’t give a fuck that they know me or how they know me!” I grow angrier, and Henry’s voice interjects.

“Perhaps, Anthony and I should go to talk to them, Alexander. It’ll give you a minute to be alone with Ellie...”

“No! By the way, how did they get a 35^th Floor pass?” I bellow. Henry looks amused, his eyebrows are slightly elevated looking at me, and shakes his head. James looks mortified.

“Miss Montesquieu is representing a French client as well as her father’s company, the MTG Power, and Miss Collingsworth is representing a South American company in addition to her personal interest in purchasing a luxury jet. The companies have made appointments to discuss the aircraft acquisitions last month sir.”

“Like their fathers, they’re arrogant to the point of asininity which I have no tolerance for! I approve all the meetings beforehand. They’re not scheduled to meet with me!”

“No sir, you’re quite right. They’re scheduled to meet with Mr. Monroe. But Mr. Monroe departed early for Arizona per your instructions and his assistant tried to reschedule the meeting with the young ladies, but she was unsuccessful in reaching them or their assistants in her effort to reschedule. In short, they’re here, sir,” he explains on a single breath. I sigh exasperated.

“Have Anthony meet with them, then. Henry stays...” I say and there is a slight movement from Ellie in my arms, and she moans, sounding distressed. Is she in pain?  I'm pure attention, worried that I can’t get her out of her suspended state in our past. 

"Ellie!!! Ellie! Wake up!" I urge her. She doesn't open her eyes, but continues to moan. I look up at Henry with concern lacing my gaze. James opens his mouth again without consulting his brain. 

"Should we call a doctor sir?" he asks. What does he think Henry is? I look at him pointedly.  

"The doctor is already here!" I snap in a menacing voice. Even though my voice is low, it reverberates around my office, making my meaning clear.

By the time Anthony leaves my office with James in tow, Elissa shudders in my arms, and jerks violently as if she’s resisting something. My arms automatically hold her up closer to my chest to calm her, and I find myself rocking her, whispering to her in my old language soothingly. Henry nods at me reminding me that she’s coming back to her senses.

“Miss Duncan? Wake up... You’re alright. You've just passed out in your car. Wake up,” I try coaxing her out of the clutches of our past memories. I want her to wake up so I can hear her voice, and see her reactions to what I have to say to her, but then keep her in my arms to calm the aching I have for her. As my right hand holds her close to my heart, my left hand rhythmically runs over her soft hair. Her arms automatically snake around my neck, stilling me. There’s a tender gleam in Henry’s eyes. I am barely holding onto my self-control. Nothing short of taking her in my possession, pumping my aching cock in her so deep to make up for all our lost time, reuniting our souls in our kisses, branding each other for days would barely sate and also fuel the desire I have for her. I want to feel her under my skin, touch every inch of her with soft kisses, caresses, suckling, teasing, and loving. It’s not just being sexually aware of her presence, but she calls to me from the depths of my abyss that I am helpless but to respond to her call. I feel like a caged beast; my disquiet about Elissa would take over me had I lost control for one minute. I have dreamt about seeing her again hundreds of times; our first union, our first kiss. I lean in and whisper. “Elissa!” but she won’t open her eyes, I softly kiss the top of her head, my lips lingering in contact, but she won’t budge.

“Doc?” I ask, my anxiety growing. He shakes his head, and his eyes lock with mine reminding me that she is conscious enough to hear, and comprehend but my mind is barely tethering between control and losing it. He explains what transpired in the parking garage to redirect my attention, but finding out in detail that one of my own men could have caused injury to her brings me to the edge of my already eroded patience.

“Fuck! How could he not see a woman walking in a huge parking lot? What was he looking at?” A shudder goes through Elissa’s body, shaking me to my core. I believe she’s coming out of her dream state. The rest of our conversation is a blur as all I can think or see is Elissa. But when she shows the signs of coming to herself, Henry nods at me, making sure I lay her down on the sofa and then makes himself scarce, leaving me alone with Elissa.  After I lay her down, I take an extra minute; reluctantly unlocking her arms from the embrace she’s been holding me.

I’m determined that she stays with me tonight; I never lose any negotiation I desire to win. Right now, there’s nothing else I would rather succeed in other than convincing her to stay with me. She moans on the sofa, and her beautiful eyes crack open painfully. When she groans, and tries to sit up, I immediately order her to remain resting, and horizontal. In fact, I’d like to keep her horizontal, vertical, sideways, every way in my own discretion for an indeterminate amount of time.  I explain her that she was nearly hit by one of my security personnel, but she immediately shares the guilt of her near accident. She tries to move to get up and leave! Leave me! She groans holding her head and concern grips me, choking.

“I don’t think you’re up to driving for two hours Miss Duncan. I will have someone drive you to your home,” I insist. As she protests my suggestion, her hands grip her head giving away the pain she’s experiencing. My hands fist nervously, trying to gain my composure and control against her innate stubbornness.

“Just as I thought! I don’t want to be the cause of my new assistant’s injury before she starts working for me,” I say in a stern yet a sensual tone. I’m not a man one wishes to cross. Only less than a handful of men dared to do that in all my existence. But whenever she contradicted me or crossed me, it just turned me on. I became predacious in each case. With my enemies, my razor’s edge menace became evident and I became focused until I’ve overcome the obstacle they've created and they’re full defeated.

With Elissa however, her disobedience always makes my desire to become fever pitch, get my blood boiling hot, and my patience stretches far too thin to resist the animal magnetism, our ever-growing attraction, making me want to hold her in my arms, kiss her and lick the curves of her lips in a slow and sensual roll, incite her to taste me in my mouth. I want to thrust my tongue so deep into her pouting mouth and make her whimper her pleasures; make her ache for me, for my touch, my lips, my mouth over her sex with a deep, pleasuring suckle and conquer her inside out. Her simple opposition makes me want to demonstrate her sheet clawing ecstasy she can experience with me by taking control of her body, and make her follow rules that I set to protect her.

It is excruciating to sit in the same space with her, remembering how we once were, and not be able to touch her. The thought that there are Fallen Angels after her life blood and the possibility that she may like someone else are killing me inside. How can I show her that we once were inseparable? How can I tell her that there’s no one for me but her?

My desire for her is so overwhelming at this moment, all I want to do is to thrust in her so deep and hard, sink into sex until our thighs are united in a tight embrace, make her moan her pleasures, and let her forget everything even her name! Remain in her core motionless until neither one of us can no longer handle being without friction, then pull out of her painstakingly slow, make her beg for me, for my cock, and then fill her again to make her remember what we had, what she still means to me. Write our history together with each stroke, each movement, each swivel, each friction, touch, kiss, penetration so much so that her euphoria drives her out of this world and into throes of ecstasy; making her crave for me, writhe her under me, on top of me, on my lap, and unite our bodies and souls, making both of us whole again. 

Her hands are still holding her aching head, and her eyes are closed. She answers me again with another contradiction: “The assistant on trial...” Fuck! I think my penis just went on full attention mode like my former Praetorians. I can’t help but smirk at the familiarity of her response.

“Anthony will drive you home, and he will also pick you up,” I say; this is the best concession I can make for her.

“But...” she protests, and I immediately interrupt her without giving her another inch of room for her to oppose me.

“I told you earlier Miss Duncan: If I intend to keep a good employee for a long time, then I do whatever is in my power to secure that employee’s well-being for his or her maximum productivity,” I say in a low, confident, I-always-get-my-way tone.

“It’s kind of you,” she replies, her voice sarcastic, but I know the fight is out of her. She’s in pain, and I don’t want her out of my sight. I want her in my vicinity with such intensity that I can’t tolerate our distance even for an evening. I glide close to her, leaning into her ear, but still not touching her. I whisper in a lascivious tone, “Do you wish to stay? The Doctor said that you need some rest. I can...” I say. I can barely keep my desire in check now; if I stay with her in the same place, I’d be torturing myself. However, I’m willing to do whatever it takes to keep her safe, make her want me on her own. I exhale a breath slowly without detection, and add in a gentle, caring tone, “I can take you to my apartment in town, and make sure you get some care.”

‘Please say yes! Please Elissa!’ I beg her in my mind. You don’t know how long I’ve waited for you! I force my hands remain on my lap, fingers splayed so I don’t make any attempt to touch her. My gaze is morose, concerned and anxiety grips me by the second; a feeling I’m not accustomed. Please look at me! Let me see your sapphire blue eyes! As if she heard my inner pleading, she finally looks up at me.

“It wouldn't be appropriate for me to stay with my prospective new boss,” she replies in her singsong, velvety voice. I can see the inner struggle in her demeanor. She likes and desires me, too! It’s all in her eyes.

“I have a house... I can go there while you’re in my apartment. That way, you won’t feel crowded with my presence and I can have someone to provide care for you for the duration of the night. Please... You've just passed out in my building right after one of my security guards nearly hit you with my company car,” I say. I want to be in the same place with her. I want to gaze at her, talk to her, and hear her voice even if that’s all we get to do. I want to know she’s safe. 

“Don’t worry Mr. Pella... I’m not planning to sue. Like I said, I’m equally guilty,” she says and turns her attention to her lap as if it’s holding the secrets of the universe. I don’t want her to go. I don’t care that she would want to sue me for all I’ve got. I just want to be near her!

“You’re wounding me, Miss Duncan. I didn't mean to extend my courtesy because I thought you would sue me. Although, it would be within your rights to do so. I am however, genuinely concerned of your well-being. You can call your family and let them know where you are if that’s going to make you feel secure,” I say appealing to her mercy, trying to get her real feelings out.

“No, it’s not that... I don’t want to put you out of your home, inconveniencing you,” she says in a stutter, finally looking up at me again, cooling and soothing my heart like the spring breeze.

“Well,” I reply relieved, leaning in with intense sensuality but making sure we don’t touch, “I have a couple of spare guestrooms in my apartment. You are more than welcome use one of them... tonight. Do you wish me to stay in my apartment, Ellie?”

I can hear the fluttering of her heart beating like the jungle drum. Her throat swallows hard as if she’s passing through a boulder. The heat rising from her body overwhelms me, heating up my core. Her lips slowly part as she’s trying to exhale her pent up desire without detection. Thank heavens! She fucking wants me! She leans down in an effort to look away and presses her legs together to suppress her rising desire for me. I don’t want to give any of my feelings away to her. It has to be her, wanting me, desiring me.

“It’s your apartment. I couldn't put you out... Do you make a habit of letting your employees stay with you?”

“No, never,” I reply her honestly and unequivocally with my impassive gaze never leaving her face, barely able to conceal my love and lust for her. “However, my close security detail as well as my personal assistant must know both my apartment and my home in and out as you may be required to work around the clock sometimes. Part of the job...” I add shrugging. “But, tonight, you would just. Be. A. Guest...” I add in a low, beguiling tone.

“Oh,” she says softly, and she sounds disappointed. I want to know whether she’s hurting or she’s actually disappointed with the nonchalance in my tone.

“Ellie, are you hurting?” I ask, automatically leaning in and holding her shoulders. I look at her, visually checking for any signs of distress as I'm willing her to talk to me. As soon as we’re connected, the electric current runs between us again and making us hyper aware of each other. She turns her head to look up at me, but all she can do is to focus on my lips, her gaze full of longing for a kiss. I don’t want to make it my decision. It must be her decision to kiss me. Because if I do kiss her, I won’t be able to stop until I completely make her mine! She blushes crimson and closes her eyes. She’s thinking of me. She’s not unaffected!

“Ellie? What’s wrong?” I ask, and unable to help, I run my hand gently on her cheek only touching her softly, sensually, conveying my love that I have not been able to express for a very, very long time. She leans into my touch, her breath hitches. But some ache makes her groan in pain. Maybe she’s worried. What is going through her head? Please angel, open your heart to me. She may be attracted to me, but I’m worried that she’s got someone else. Someone she’s not telling me about.

“Ellie? Please, talk to me,” I plead with a burning need to know.

“Yes,” she replies, and I am relieved beyond belief. I suppress a smile with the way she conveyed her answer.

“Are you alright? How do you feel?” I ask, my eyes fixed on her. Her reply is a nod. She makes a move to go. No! It’s too soon!

“I... should go. I have to pack. If I stay, I won’t have anything to take with me, and I’m sure you wouldn't want a less than presentable personal assistant,” she tries to get up.

“But you’re not well. I can’t take a chance of my new assistant having an accident on the way home because I let you go. Clothing articles can be purchased here...” I say but she shakes her head. Please, angel! I can buy whatever you need.

“I’m alright, really... Since I’m going to be moving to LA, I shouldn't add extra expenses when I already have those items. I have to be careful with my finances Mr. Pella. After all, you’re only giving me a week’s trial, and you could easily say no at the end of the week...” she adds, and I open my mouth to say that I could get her necessities here, she holds her hand up to continue.

“Before you say, you pay for your close security’s and assistants’ required clothing, I’d like to express that I don’t want to be beholden to my new boss...” she starts saying, then amends her wording and adds, “new boss pending the trial week, I mean.” Of course! She’s still the same! Still proud, still fiercely independent! How I’ve missed that. Her response brings the ghost of a smile upon my lips. Fortunately, I know what gets her out of her shell. She can’t stand a challenge. I slowly and deliberately move my hands from her shoulders onto my own lap. The abrupt absence of our connection makes her face fall, making her feel bereft. I lift my right thumb and index finger up to my lips leisurely, and capture my lower lip between the two, caressing in a deliberate tempo, like I would with her nipples, and her sex. Her pupils dilate, and lips part slowly, hungrily. The tingle on her skin is apparent with the pale pink flushes. She’s aroused. Her breathing is shallow but rapid, a rosy hue creeps over her face, betraying her body’s response. After giving her an intensely provocative visual, I slowly speak.

“Miss Duncan, you would not be beholden to me in any shape or form. I’m the one who is asking you to stay. It is but a small price to pay for the peace of mind and assure your safety.”

Her eyes are still on my lips as if she’s ready to take possession of them, but barely holding onto her wits.

“Thank you but, I can’t accept it...” she replies in a barely audible voice. She’s fighting against her feelings. But, I never back down from a negotiation, especially when I’m this close to winning.

“How about a compromise then... Anthony drives you to Montecito, you pack, say goodbye to your family for the week and he drives you back to LA today,” I offer my only concession.

“Huh?” is her confused reply, but I don’t want to give her any leeway to make her change her mind.

“That way, you’re not beholden to me, and you can start acquainting yourself with my apartment or home since you will have to if you are working for me. As part of your job, you are required to be at hand at a moment’s notice in either location as well as here, or any other place I may require you to. You start your trial today. That’s the compromise I’m offering you,” I speak firmly, slowly, deliberately, and utterly sure of myself. I have every intention to win this negotiation. I don’t take the intensity my gaze away from her face.

“Okay, Mr. Pella,” she finally acquiesces.

“Okay, you’re staying, or okay you start working today?” I ask without blinking, hoping her answer is the latter.

“I start working today,” she replies and my heart skips a beat. With my gaze still on her, I take my smart phone out, I speed dial Anthony.

"Yes, Mr. Pella," he answers his phone on the second ring.

"Anthony, you are driving Ms. Duncan to Montecito, and driving her back with her packed luggage," I order.

"In that case, I'm finishing the meeting with Miss Montesquieu, and Miss Collingsworth. When would you like me to leave, sir?"

"Within the next 10 minutes," I answer, and hang up without breaking my gaze. She looks up at me. There’s something she wants to ask me, but trying to assess how she's wants to word it.

"Mr. Pella, since I’m going to be working for you, at least all next week, is there anyone I need to acquaint myself with? Your other staff, family members, wife, girlfriend?” she asks trying to look nonchalant, but she's utterly nervous. And her question takes me by complete surprise, hitching my breath and her inquisitiveness makes me want her with an uncontrollable urge and an intense passion. I can't hide my surprise or my rising desire in response to her question.

"You will meet my immediate staff and the security detail soon. Tomorrow perhaps... My family members,” I say and pause as I try to hide the anguish I feel while trying to construct a truthful answer. Because she was my family, she was my everything, my lover, my wife, the woman with whom the sun rose and set, the mother of my babies whose fate I have never been able to uncover. I opt for the truth and simplicity in my answer, “are either dead, or we've lost touch. There are no women I care enough to acquaint you with,” I reply without elaboration. But her face fails to hide her risen curiosity and the reason behind her inquiry. She swallows, and then slowly opens her mouth to ask the second part of her question.

"Well, uhm... I’ve met two ladies downstairs after my interview with you, and I couldn't help but hear their rather brazen conversation. They were indicating to each other that both of them were well acquainted with you in more ways than one. I thought maybe one of them might be your girlfriend,” she explains. Oh, fuck! She's met the rapacious bitches. She has nothing to fear, but her displeasure of them and her poorly hidden jealousy makes me hotter than Hades. I cock my head to one side to decipher her seemingly nonchalant expression. Her gaze is focused on her lap again, but I lower myself, getting my head in line with hers trying to connect with her eyes, force her to look at me. My gaze is intense, passionate, demanding her to express her honest feelings. There's concern and a tinge of jealousy in her sapphire blue eyes when she looks up.

"You will find many other women talking about me. Just part of the façade. I haven’t had anyone worthy of introduction in a very... very... very long time,” I explain, all playfulness gone. There is no one for me but her. I have had countless women in all my existence. When Elissa entered into my heart, everything else dimmed for me. In her absence, I have lost myself in the depths of darkness in my own abyss. I have not used sex even as the closest element to companionship; just something to soothe a physical hunger which always left me empty, depraved, worse than before. My craving, longing and grief over Elissa only got deeper, turning me into a starving and an arid man; never sated. Just like salt water can't sate thirst, no other woman can fulfill me and take Elissa's place.

The knock at my door brings me out of my reveries. It's Anthony. He walks in his measured strides, his unmistakable military instincts and vigilant gaze.

"Mr. Pella. I’m ready to drive Miss Duncan to Montecito. In her vehicle or one of ours sir?” he asks without a preamble, and then slightly but respectfully nods in Elissa's direction to greet her.

"One of ours," I respond. I want safety and convenience. All our vehicles are tracked which makes it easy to locate them in any given situation.

"Whenever you're ready Miss Duncan, I shall drive you," says Anthony, and turns to me to receive his instructions. I get up, and Elissa announces her readiness.

"I'll see you this evening Miss Duncan," I say, making sure that she understands that she's coming as soon as she's packed, otherwise I'll be forced to declare myself on her much sooner than I intended. The feelings are mutual. She's completely affected by me. She gazes up at me with unspoken words, trying to remember something, unable to look away. I proffer my hand to her and she takes it, shaking. As soon as our fingertips touch, the delicious current goes through our bodies, firing up all our synapses, making us intensely aware of each other, and I feel the marks are moving upon my wrists. I wonder what they’re telling me. Anthony opens the door, holding it for her as she exits my office, and I follow her suite. Outside of my door I look at Anthony reminding him that I’m entrusting the most important person in existence into his hands which means he’s not allowed to fuck up under any circumstances. He needs to protect her, and bring her back to me as soon as she’s done packing. He nods solemnly, understanding. There isn't any other person I could trust as far as her safety is concerned, besides Henry.

"Until tonight..." I remind her again with a promise.

"Alex," she says in a soft velvety voice, nodding, then she and Anthony both disappear behind the closing elevator doors.

I look down at my wrists, and see the spread out wings of the eagle, eyes focused on a target, talons spread as in a fight, and the arrows it’s holding with one talon are in action. When I look down at my other wrist, I see the eagle with a broken wing, wounded, falling off the sky! My body tenses, and worry oozes out of every single pore. What is waiting for her at home?

“Send Henry into my office immediately!” I say as I pass by James and Melissa.

“How about the security?” he says pointing at the young man sitting nervously, waiting for his fate. I squeeze the bridge of my nose. He jumps to his feet, looking at me expectantly, but unworried; the look of innocence. I point my finger, shaking it at him accusingly.

“You will get your chance to redeem yourself in a little while. If however you fuck up, I’ll break you!” I say and make my way towards my office. As I reach for my door, I hear my name called.

“Oh, Mr. Pella! We wanted to have a word with you,” says a demanding female voice. I turn to look at James and Melissa with a ferocious gaze, outraged that the bitches are still here! It’s a pity that such expensive ensemble they’re sporting can’t raise the value of the women they’re packaging.

“I’m sorry ladies, but those who wish to see me, must make an appointment. Do feel free to discuss it with James and Melissa here,” I gesture towards my assistants.

“But you are here already, and what we wish to discuss is rather urgent in nature,” says Miss Collingsworth.

“Be that as it may, Miss Collingsworth. However right at this moment, I have a business emergency to attend, myself. Excuse me,” I say.

“Mr. Pella,” urges Miss Montesquieu, the lesser of the two evils, catching my arm. I look down at her strongly clutched hand on my bicep despite her smaller size compared to mine. My gaze follows her clasped hand to her arm and then to her face pointedly, I raise my eyebrows questioningly. I can feel what she is easily; one of our kind. But her blood is weakened, diluted over many generations. She may have an inclination that I too am a Nephilim. Since I’m the only remaining first generation, it’s not easy to disguise my presence from humans let alone my own kind, because every aspect about me is laden with power and strength. It is clear to me now that their amplified vitality, forward behavior, and the siren affinity tell me that they’re certainly Nephilim. But why didn't Anthony tell me about this just now? Surely, he must have noticed it about them. But then, he couldn't have, because I’ve met these women before, and their weaker blood made it extremely difficult to see for what they truly were. Why do I clearly know what they are now? What’s different? Fuck! Of course! It’s Elissa!

I can easily sense their disdain; something else is shoring up their insolence, and it couldn't be their father’s bank account. Their human lineage boasts up some royal stock. The fact is, there are a lot of Nephilim with weak blood and large accounts; but they’re either not aware of their linage and the knowledge of it is lost in so many generations, or they have something to hide and it’s to their benefit to not to make it known even to their own kind. With that in mind, I see the Collingsworth woman taking two careful steps towards me through my peripheral vision, her voice a purr, a siren’s call. She licks her lower lip, and measures her gait towards me, hips swaying, her large breasts forward, and her lips pursed to emphasize their size.

“Well, Mr. Pella,” she emphasizes melodically as her hand travels under my chin and she attempts to run her index finger under it. But for some unfathomable reason, she’s unable to reach and make contact with my face. Her facial expression shifts, gets taut with the strain of the force of her attempt. I know what she wants to do; I’m just trying to decipher the exact reason behind their collective effort. If I don’t find out, it may be to the detriment of Elissa. James is ogling at them; in fact he’s practically drooling. Melissa however is completely unaffected; she stands with arms crossed, her face looks forbidding. As Kimberly Collingsworth expands her efforts, coupled by a force exerted from Miss Montesquieu’s attached arm over mine, I can hear her vociferous mind loudly and clearly! Each mind is singularly and collectively focused on me, trying to make me yield to them! They’re looking to strengthen their gene pool, but with me particularly in mind. What could their purpose be for this? I don’t provide stud services or donate sperm.

James approaches the two women, his eyes clouded. I am not under their influence, but I’m determined to see what they’re capable of doing. Melissa looks from me to James, and stands in James’ way in an attempt to stop him from advancing towards the women. He doesn’t look at her, and simply pushes her out of the way with a single push of his hand and continues to walk towards us. Melissa walks behind him catching up and punches his arm making him blink momentarily, but the distraction doesn’t stop him.

Exasperated, she walks towards our growing group in determined strides, and yanks Miss Montesquieu’s hand off my bicep, and without a word, she slaps Miss Collingsworth breaking her concentration.

“Why? You...” starts Miss Collingsworth, her gaze shooting daggers at Melissa.

“Miss Collingsworth, Miss Montesquieu,” Melissa croons sweetly, and smiling. “I apologize, but Mr. Pella is booked for an entire month, and I am sure you will see plenty of him during the auctions. However, please have your assistants call to make an appointment before you waste a trip to the Pella Towers as Mr. Pella is an extremely busy man. I will show you the way out,” she says holding both of them by the arms. Then turns to me and adds in her most professional tone, “Mr. Pella, James will be sending Henry in momentarily, sir,” then lifts her head high, and clicks her heals away towards the elevators, herding the two women away who are stunned by the strength she is demonstrating.

But James doesn’t get a chance to summon Henry. He shows up with a grave face.

“Something’s wrong. Anthony sent a distress signal!”

“What? Where are they?”

“The vehicle is stopped just after he reached the border of Santa Barbara County. It’s not moving, and he’s not answering.”

I feel the breath knocked out of me. “Let’s go!” I order. Whoever is behind this is fucking with the wrong man! I’m not in a forgiving mood today!

Unforgiven II - Metallica