"Forgive me, Father." Elliot said.
He was in a booth where church goers confessed their sins to the priest.
"For I have sinned." He continued.
Father Matthew was one of the few original vampires still left along with the brothers Kyle and Elliot. He was too late to save Jenna from burning at the stake more than a century ago, but he was there now to comfort Elliot.
"My son, tell me what troubles you." Father Matthew said from the other end.
This was perhaps the only church in the town which welcomed humans and supernatural beings alike. But only a few knew that Father Matthew was a vampire and an original one at that.
It was an old church, its stone walls worn smooth by centuries of prayers and confessions, stained glass windows depicting saints and sinners alike in jewel-toned splendor, their colors casting otherworldly patterns across the worn wooden pews where both mortal and immortal souls had sought redemption since before the town itself had a name.
"War is calling to me, Father." Elliot explained. "But I do not want to heed its call."
The thin barrier between priest and penitent slid aside, revealing Father Matthew's ancient face framed by shadow.
"You almost lost your sister during the last war." Father Matthew reminded him. "Then it is a wise decision on your part not to enter another war."
"But it's calling me."
"You done?" Someone rudely asked.
It was a guy in a biker's jacket surrounded by two similarly clothed men.
Elliot was about to give a beating to all of them, but before he could have done so, the priest put a hand on his shoulder.
"We are almost done, my son." Father Matthew said politely.
"Get out, old man."
This time Elliot wasn't about to be stopped from kicking their asses.
**
Barcelona, Spain.
Damien and Nina were on their second honeymoon. Stephen and Helena joked, when all of them were in America, that it this holiday was reserved for the act of bringing a child into the world.
Boy, they were right. Damien smirked.
"Enjoying the view?" Nina asked.
She was leaning against the balcony railing in a crimson bikini that accentuated her curves, her damp hair falling in loose waves down her back as she gazed out at Barcelona's terracotta rooftops glowing golden in the late afternoon sun, the distant spires of La Sagrada Familia piercing the azure sky while seagulls circled lazily overhead.
Damien wondered if she meant herself or her point of view.
"Are you sure we should do this?"
Nina looked over her shoulder, one eyebrow arched and lips curved into a half-smile that dimpled her right cheek, her amber eyes catching the Mediterranean light in a way that reminded Damien of the first night they'd met—that same dangerous glimmer that had pulled him across a crowded room toward his destiny.
She crossed the sun-warmed tiles with deliberate steps, her hips swaying in rhythm with the distant Spanish guitar drifting up from the street below, each movement a silent promise as her fingertips trailed along the edge of the balcony railing, her eyes never leaving his.
Damien's throat tightened as Nina approached the lounge chair where he reclined, her knees pressing into the cushion between his outstretched legs.
The thin fabric of her crimson bikini bottom brushed against his thigh as she crawled forward with feline grace, her amber eyes locked on his, the Mediterranean breeze carrying the scent of salt and jasmine from her sun-warmed skin.
"Are you sure we shouldn't do this?" She asked biting his lower lip.
Damien ignored her kisses with all his willpower. He sat up on the couch and Nina stopped the foreplay.
"I'm sorry I cheated on you." Damien apologised holding both of his hands together in repentance.
Nina considered his apology for a while before she started smooching his neck again.
Damien sighed. Guess I'll call my dick the Babymaker from now on.
**
Elliot knew which group these men belonged to: the Dark Ones.
They were obsessed with immortality. Not knowing that Elliot himself was an original. And far more powerful than the three of them combined.
He landed non-fatal blows to the three of them—a lightning-fast uppercut that sent the first man's head snapping back with a sickening crack, a precise strike to the second's solar plexus that folded him like origami, and a sweeping kick that took the third's legs out from under him, sending him crashing against the weathered stone floor with a dull thud that echoed through the sacred space.
Elliot picked up one of the fallen vampires by the hair of his head. "Tell your leader if they want to talk to Father Matthew, they've got to get through me first."
"Enough." Father Matthew announced.
Some innocent church goers appeared at the entrance but then dispersed as soon as they saw the violence in front of them.
Elliot let the vampire go. "What do you think they want with you?"
"Damn if I know." Father Matthew said uncharacteristically. "But I could've kicked their asses myself."
Elliot smirked. "And here I thought I was the one who needed forgiveness."
Later on, he made sure that Kyle's group the Enchanted Ones, would take turns guarding the church from then onwards.