1863: Galveston, Texas
'You'd better do it, Maria,' the taller blonde spoke again. 'If he's important to you. I kill them twice as often as I keep them.' (Eclipse)
* * *
"What is your name, soldier?"
Jasper swallows hard, staring at the vision before him. Her dark hair was long, curling at the ends, her skin pale, stark against the white of her dress. She was young, beautiful. Breathtakingly so and his heart hammers in his chest, pulse racing.
He'd always been shy around the woman-folk and this girl was no different, only making him more so by her ethereal beauty.
"Jasper Whitlock, Ma'am," he finally stammers, fumbling with his hat as he removed it from his head. He fights the instinct to run and bows politely.
It brings a sad smile to her face. Almost apologetic.
"I do hope you survive, Jasper," she murmurs, her voice gentle, angelic. "I have a good feeling about you."
She steps forward, inclining her head - she was a foot shorter than him - and her cold fingers feather across his cheek. Every muscle of his is poised to run. She's dangerous and he knows it. He remembers what was said only moments ago when he'd happened upon her and her companions.
Her companions had run off then, leaving him alone with the small one. With Maria.
She takes another step forward, her bottom lip caught between her perfect teeth as she tilts her head to the side, considering. He should run back to Galveston but he doesn't think he would make it even two feet.
Especially not when she jerks him down with a strength he'd never seen any man match and her teeth are on his neck before he can even cry out. He only remembers the pain that follows.
* * *
"What is your name, soldier?"
Jasper swallows hard, staring at the vision before him. Her dark hair was long, curling at the ends, her skin pale, stark against the white of her dress. She was young, beautiful. Breathtakingly so and his heart hammers in his chest, pulse racing.
He'd always been shy around the woman-folk and this girl was no different, only making him more so by her ethereal beauty.
"Jasper Whitlock, Ma'am," he finally stammers, fumbling with his hat as he removed it from his head. He fights the instinct to run and bows politely.
It brings a sad smile to her face. Almost apologetic.
"I do hope you survive, Jasper," she murmurs, her voice gentle, angelic. "I have a good feeling about you."
She steps forward, inclining her head - she was a foot shorter than him - and her cold fingers feather across his cheek. Every muscle of his is poised to run. She's dangerous and he knows it. He remembers what was said only moments ago when he'd happened upon her and her companions.
- 'He's speechless,' the tallest girl said in a lovely, delicate voice - it was like wind chimes. She had fair hair, and her skin was snow white.
The other was blonder still, her skin just as chalky. Her face was like an angel's. She leaned toward me with half-closed eyes and inhaled deeply.
'Mmm,' she sighed. 'Lovely.'
The small one, the tiny brunette, put her hand on the girl's arm and spoke quickly. Her voice was too soft and musical to be sharp, but that seemed to be the way she intended it.
'Concentrate, Nettie,' she said.
'He looks right - young, strong, an officer... ' The brunette paused, and I tried unsuccessfully to speak. 'And there's something more... do you sense it?' she asked the other two. 'He's... compelling.'
'Oh, yes,' Nettie quickly agreed, leaning toward me again.
'Patience,' the brunette cautioned her. 'I want to keep this one.'
Nettie frowned; she seemed annoyed.
'You'd better do it, Maria,' the taller blonde spoke again. 'If he's important to you. I kill them twice as often as I keep them.'
Her companions had run off then, leaving him alone with the small one. With Maria.
She takes another step forward, her bottom lip caught between her perfect teeth as she tilts her head to the side, considering. He should run back to Galveston but he doesn't think he would make it even two feet.
Especially not when she jerks him down with a strength he'd never seen any man match and her teeth are on his neck before he can even cry out. He only remembers the pain that follows.