Secrets

Alex:
I've lost her. For a moment I held her in my arms, as warm and restless as a little dove, then she turned around and sulkily spat at me like a wild cat. I groan. I thought that by today she would be more susceptible to my advances, but I was mistaken. I'll have to wait. Zeus! It is an ordeal. Wanting her so badly and not being able to have her. All these days of forced abstinence are going to end up unhinging me. Today is Wednesday, we have already had dinner and she has not had anything relevant to report. There I was, at one side of the table, burning like a coal and at the other one she sat, as if nothing else, devouring a plate of spaghetti with double cheese.
At this rate I will end up pouncing on her and taking her by force, although... if I try a little harder I could cajole her while she is half asleep, grunting in frustration I remember I promised not to enter her room while she sleeps.
Patrick's mouth around my member is good, but it does not completely satisfy this blind need that grows inside me, more and more each day. I caress my most faithful servant's black hair and I give myself to the ministrations of his lips, closing my eyes and pretending I possess a very elusive and tyrannical little witch.

Yolie:
I've awakened with a hellish thirst. My throat feels as dry as an oven. Alex spent the entire dinner staring at me like the hungry wolf would have looked at Little Red Riding Hood. I swear he was about to jump on the table and rape me right there. Although, well ... as turned on as I was ... I don't think it would have been an attempted rape for more than three seconds. In my blind escape I forgot taking a jug of water so as not to have to go below stairs in case of an eventuality like this.

God!

These last three days have been particularly difficult. I think I must be half sick. I have been experiencing small episodes of memory loss and my body temperature doesn’t drop below thirty-eight degrees Celsius. If we add to that the intense headaches that appear out of nowhere and now this dryness and burning in my throat, the most likely diagnosis is that I have contracted dengue. I huff in exasperation. After I took so much care not to get sick in Cuba, I came to contract it here in Greece or perhaps I had already been incubating it. Goin out into the hallway I walk distractedly, thinking about everything Alex said last night.
He really wants me! Oh, he says the most romantic things in the world when he tries to convince me letting him near me. Mhm.
I bite my lip, descending the stairs and heading towards the kitchen. A sound me snaps my aheamyup, looking cautiously ahead and the scene in front of me stops me in my tracks.
The entrance to the kitchen is very wide so I'm able to see what is happening there easily. Alex is standing, completely naked, for a second my eyes cheekily devour his body. (Oh, he's insanely sexy!) Patrick is dressed, thank God, but he is kneeling before Alex, his hands on his boss’s thighs, his mouth ... I pale. I mean ... they are having oral sex on the kitchen’s very floor!
I'm shocked, I'm angry, I'm... turned on? What? No! I'm, I'm... enraged, that's it.
Enraged at Alex and his lies! He wants me, he said. He hasn't touched another woman in three years, he said. That's obvious, Patrick isn’t a woman!
He seemed to suffer from my rejection. Lies! While I have my internal debate, Alex throws his head back.
Oh no, this is bad, very bad. I spun on my heel and run off, climbing the stairs like a bat out of hell.In seconds I hear his moan of liberation. He must have spilled completely into Patrick's mouth. I tremble. But he has called out my name.

000
**Kings come and go. Thrones fall, rulers are killed by those closest to them. In my almost two hundred years of existence I have seen the same thing happen over and over and over again... It is an endless cycle of violence and betrayal.**
*Betrayals, yes. Wait ... two hundred years?*
**These past moons I have heard growing murmurs about a mighty warrior from Macedonia. According to rumors, he is a formidable man. He leads his army with an iron fist and has been swift as a leopard in his quest to conquer. My fellow Persians speak of him with unmistakable fear.**
**Ah, so Yoleandra was Persian. I wonder, since I am her reincarnation... Am I also Persian? I laugh. I never thought I was so exotic.
His name is Alexandros. I am very pleased to see that some of the ancient traditions are still preserved, such as naming infants by their attributes or more remarkable characteristics. Alexandros ... dominator of men ... and women. His appetite for carnal pleasures is already legendary. He has had countless lovers, both of one sex and the other. He is attracted to beauty, like all his peers.
**
**Foolish mortals mistake the features of a pleasant face for an indisputable mark of divinity. By lying with beautiful maidens and young men of handsome bearing, they believe, in their twisted hearts, that the very gods they possess. It is just another way of exalting themselves above the divine.**
Wow! What a psychoanalysis.
**Despite his devious drive for greatness, I sense that great things can be expected of the Macedonian warrior. Mhm. Who knows, maybe I can make him an apprentice or one of my most treasured lovers?**
WTF?
**It is time to move closer to Egypt and regain my place in the Oracle of Siwa, there.**

000
—Yoleandra actually knew about you long before you conquered Persia. - I report during dinner the next day.
—No wonder. The Persians were always my main enemies and my toughest opponents. - He says bringing the glass to his lips.
—Even though she was Persian herself, she was very curious about you.
He smirks.
— She tells that your... adventures were already legendary and ponders the possibility of you becoming her apprentice or her lover. - I whisper uneasily.
Alex raises his eyebrows, stunned.
—She never expressed such intentions. It is true that when she was... brought into my presence I was dying. We wouldn't have had time for anything but a few kisses. Truth is, if I had been in top shape that night we would surely have ended up being lovers. She was incredibly sensual.
*Idiot.*
—I remember her well, wearing those tunics made from woven threads that did not hide a thing, looking at me with those rebellious and sparkling eyes, that little mouth full of insults and that wonderful wild hair that always seemed to be whipped by an imperceptible wind. Oh, she was wonderful! - He exclaims.
I scowl at him.
—Just as wonderful as you. - He winks at me. - Before you did that monstrosity to your hair.
He laughs.
—You mean we look alike, Yoleandra and I?
—Isn’t it obvious? Well, of course. You are her reincarnation, you said you knew it, you are...- He growls- ...or rather you were exactly like her. Which is only natural.
—But ... I have heard or read somewhere that one doesn't always reincarnate in their previous physique. There are many theories about it. Sometimes people don’t return with the same sex as their previous life and other times they aren’t even human beings, but some animal.
— I'm really not an expertn on the subject, I'll have to ask Vlad. - He says looking at Patrick. - He has a master's degree in that kind of thing.
They laugh and Alex shakes his head in amusement
Vlad? A friend of Alex’s, perhaps?
Patrick stands guard by the door once more. I avoid looking at him because my mind can't erase his image kneeling on the kitchen floor…doing things, to Alex…
—One detail that caught my attention is that Yoleandra was apparently two hundred years old when you began your military campaign against Persia.
Alex jerks the glass away from his lips, looks at me visibly dismayed. His lower lip glows reddish. I look away in disgust. I am not afraid of my own blood, but that of others causes me a disgust that I haven't overcome even after working as a doctor for these three whole years. It has something to do with its strong smell, a smell of death and suffering.
— Are you completely sure? - He stammers, wiping his lip with the back of his hand.
— Yes. I can read. - I grumble.
—But that means, it means...
—That becoming a vampire isn’t the only way of being immortal.-I finished his sentence, giving him my most feigned smile.