The Binding of Isabelle Ch. 01

This is the beginning of my own version of a story line about the Carpathian Men and the women they mate with. I have always been fascinated by vampires and had my own take on them fantasy-wise. When I began reading novels about the Carpathians they seemed like exactly the image I had of what vampires would be like if I were to write them. This is the first chapter in that effort. Enjoy!

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How had Isabella gotten herself into this situation? She had been innocently typing a new story on her laptop at the Daily Grind, her favorite coffee spot, when she hit a point she couldn't figure out. She wasn't one for jumping ahead so she backed up and wrestled with the plot. Her characters just weren't cooperating. They seemed to hate each other when they were supposed to be love interests. Every time she tried to get them together one said something insulting to the other. Okay, she knew she was writing the story but her subconscious seemed to lead the way and things often got out of hand before she ironed out the actual direction of the story. There was no saving it. These two characters hated each other and there would be no gazing into each other's eyes or riding off into the sunset together for them. She could almost feel both of them looking at her in disgust at both the cliches and what they inferred. She sighed heavily and sat back, taking a sip of her pumpkin spice latte.

"Writer's block?" she heard a nearby voice ask.

Turning to look at the man who had evidently inquired, she saw someone who seemed older than the usual crowd, perhaps in his early 50's though an incredibly well preserved early 50's. He seemed to be trying to suppress a smile almost as if he could hear her thoughts. Looking around she noticed the coffee shop was strangely empty that day.

"Yeah. My characters are off on a lark," Isabelle replied.

The man laughed and she caught a sparkle in his eye. She noticed he was extremely well dressed in a grey pinstriped three piece suite which was certainly over the top for this shop but he must have come from work. There was something, well, nice or comforting about him that drew her. Without knowing how exactly she had gotten there, she found herself seated at his table, feeling as if they'd been conversing a while. In the forefront of her thoughts she considered how odd this was, yet something in the back of her mind said all was as it should be and she was safe.

Isabella had what her family had called the "touch." It was partially an awareness she supposed others might call psychic yet there was more to it. Only some of the women in the family were born with the touch and it often didn't manifest until they were in the late 20's or early 30's with the second part of the ability coming later. She wasn't exactly certain what that ability entailed though her mother was often seemed able to calm those who were injured or distressed. That could have just been empathy and true concern, yet Isabella had always thought there was something more to it. Regardless, her abilities had become evident enough to at least provide her with a sense of what and who was safe vs unsafe. This man definitely had been accepted as safe though a bit of hesitancy remained suggesting something . . .

'Different'

Her mind whispered.

When Lucian, for that was his name, began speaking of the council, Isabelle nodded as if she knew all about them when she realized she didn't. Something was off here.

'You are safe. No harm will befall you.'

Whoa! It was one thing to have her own inner voice advising her on safety, but quite another to have a strangers voice enter her mind. She stood suddenly in fear.

Lucian stood as well and seemed as if he wanted to take her wrist but then thought better of it.

"I'm sorry if I startled you. I just sensed. . . " he looked around then finished carefully, ". . . you were familiar with such things."

"If you mean someone intruding in my mind and trying to influence me in some way, then no, I am not familiar with such things and will thank you not to do so again," Isabelle all but hissed in a quiet yet forceful voice.

"My apologies. I will not do it again without your permission."

Lucian really did seem contrite. Her own mind said that the situation was harmless so she relaxed. "If my apology is accepted shall we go?" he asked, confidence back in place.

Isabelle tried to remember agreeing to go somewhere with this stranger and the memory came. Of going to meet the council. Of feeling it was a reasonable though curious thing to do since only the very distant sound of a memory suggested any familiarity with who and what this council might be.

"You okay there, Isabelle?" Don, the barista who she'd become friendly with asked with a protective look in his eyes.

Isabelle looked back at Lucian then answered Don with a sunny smile on her face. "Yeah, Don. Everything's fine. Just meeting up with an old friend." She wasn't sure why she had added the last and given Lucian was definitely not a regular customer, Don raised an eyebrow. She smiled again to reassure him and perhaps herself, gathered up her computer, and turned back to Lucian. He held an arm out to indicate she should lead and she headed out the door sending a cheerful, "Bye, Don," over her shoulder.

They walked for a while, Lucian commenting on the leaves which were beginning to turn, the clearer, crisper weather which had followed a terrible heat wave as Isabelle murmured her assent here and there, comfortable with Lucian taking the lead. Despite wandering the small residential streets along the waterfront with a strange man, Isabelle felt a sense of peace.

Glancing at him suddenly, wondering if he might be somehow manipulating her senses, his large dark eyes belied nothing but honest conversation and his body language indicated his desire to treat her respectfully and not encroach on her personal space. She let herself lapse back into a calming lull as the light gentled around her causing the water to shimmer in the growing twilight.

Suddenly they were standing in front of a nondescript building, perhaps four or five stories high that seemed to melt into the twilight. Something about it made Isabelle certain if she'd passed it before she wouldn't have noticed it but she wasn't sure exactly where they were or how far they had traveled.

"I know it doesn't look like much on the outside but it's a bit more welcoming on the inside. Shall we?"

Lucian seemed to be giving Isabelle a moment to adjust to entering a building with a stranger yet at the same time something pulled at her like a thread attached to her middle drawing her forth. Her life had been completely devoid of mystery, intrigue, interest or even the haphazard moment of "Ah ha!" or the "We've met before haven't we?" deja vu type of meeting with strangers. She was ready for things to take a turn and this might just be where that was meant to happen. If she knew anything, she knew she was entering that building and meeting with this mysterious council to hear why they had her brought to them.

Without a word, Isabelle just began walking forward toward the door leaving Lucian too far behind to open it for her, which he had done with an old world flourish at the coffee shop. Isabelle grasped the handle which she had been certain had not been there a moment before and felt a slight tingle in her hand as the knob twisted and the door opened toward her. She thought she heard Lucian utter, "Excellent" but she soon forgot it, not certain if she had really heard anything at all.

The entrance way was beautiful, decorated in soft shades of greens and blues with light touches of peach and a hint of gold. Two large chairs the color of pale pearls were placed on the deep shag carpet which was of an off white or perhaps the faintest of a shade of aqua. They were angled slightly toward each other and the antique table behind held a vase with a splash of bright pink flowers Isabelle had never seen before.

"They are a rare type of glade blooming rhododendrons, found only in the Carpathian Mountains," Lucian answered the question Isabelle had not voiced. She noticed he sounded slightly upset, put out about something. She did not object as she had become used to him answering questions she only formed in her mind as they had walked, not feeling it an intrusion. She looked closer at the flowers, and began to feel warm, flushed. Something about the aroma they gave off had her feeling. . . she wasn't certain how to describe it, nor was she entirely comfortable feeling it around Lucian. He took a discrete step back. Then another.

"Oh God. He knows exactly what I'm feeling," she realized a sharp blush steeling up her face. It was then she noticed the shapes of the flowers. Maybe it was just the odd mood that had struck but some of the more open ones looked like. . . well, like. . . "Labia," she couldn't help saying softly in her mind even as she felt herself becoming damp. Her blush intensified when she notices some of the flowers had a long reddish bulb-like appendage extending out from the middle of the flower. Isabella closed her eyes, becoming damper and she felt the delicious thrill of something petal soft gently sliding along her . . .

She hadn't noticed Lucian's state of discomfiture and dismay until his voice broke through her growing excitement. She tried to block him out wanting to just feel. She felt the growing telltale signs of an orgasm as what must have been one of the bulbs though seemingly larger than anything she'd known before began demanding entrance small spike adding just that bit of bite. The sarcastic thought that she was surprised she'd would even recognize the feelings leading to an orgasm appeared briefly then disappeared as the sensations began to wash over her like waves, the huge bulb too large to enter her fully, pressing again her entrance with increasing force until she wished it would force itself inside her, consequences be damned."

"We needed to know Lucian," a female voice said.

"Not like this and not before even speaking to her," Lucian replied sounding a touch angry

"Isn't it better to already know her responsiveness before we speak of the matter?" another male voice joined the conversation.

"And had she not responded or barely responded it would have told us nothing. She's human. They aren't as open to such things as we are and even some who have married within started out closed off and unresponsive to such . . . stimuli, " Lucian replied.

"Why can't they all just be quiet?" Isabelle thought dreamily as she rose on the torrid scent and petal touch soft over her nub in contrast to the slightly painful thrust of the giant pod against her entrance but going no further. She seemed to be opening more and more as if trying to engulf the strange pod. The petals continued stroking her. . . oh, she was so close. . .so close" a moan escaped her lips.

"Oh no," Lucian said sounding quite disturbed. "I'll get her and Sylvie, you remove those flowers. . . No on second thought you get her and I'll remove those flowers."

Isabelle felt an arm around her tugging her in a direction away from the sensations he was so enjoying. She fought to stay near, she was so close, so, so close. . . wait, why was she coming back down? That wasn't the right direction at all! No! After all this time. . .

She heard a door close and then another slowly beginning to take note of her surroundings - an elevator she thought as they began to go upward no not like she had been moments ago to her disappointment. And there were two other women with her one holding her tightly around the shoulders, both who seemed aware of exactly what she had been going through to her dismay.

"It's alright Isabelle. It's a perfectly natural reaction to the flowers," she heard one of the women say though still as if from a distance.

"For a claimed one perhaps," muttered the other voice with a touch of laughter sounding in her words. "A claimed, bonded, fully mated, one, at that," the voice finished with another slight laugh. That voice also sounded far away.

"Zelda, hush! Do you want to scare her before we even have a chance to talk to her. She may be the one Zelda. All the oracles show it to be so. We have waited so long. . . "

"He has waited so long," Zelda stated. "And it must be the right one, not close, not almost, but absolutely the right one."

"Of course it must be, she must be," the woman Lucian had addressed as Sylvie replied. "But they'll know if it is so. They would have to know. It can't be helped.

"But we have had women who either resisted or temped one of our men to choose incorrectly. Each time it has been a disaster. This is our future, the future of the Carpathian people," Zelda said and Isabelle was beginning to feel confused, wondering if she should feel distress, though the after-effects of the flowers had left a slightly electrified feeling between her legs, the tingling continuing to tease but not strong enough to get her back to where she had been.

What were they talking about and what did she have to do with it?

"Here we are," she heard Sylvie say.

"For heaven's sake, just whose idea was this?" a male voice demanded.

Isabelle was able to open her eyes partially, taking in the blurred surroundings graced with familiar muted colors and more furniture as if in a sitting room. A large sitting room. She looked around hopefully for the flowers but there were none to be found. The delicious aroma was also absent. Isabelle felt despondent.

"Calm down Dexter. We needed to know and as you are well aware are men have limited time to find their other half. In this case, the situation was of the utmost importance and approaching a dire emergency," Sylvie replied.

"You had no right. She's a human. And you have no idea how long it has been since she . . . Just look at her."

"Yes, I'd say it has been some time since she. . . However she managed to . . . " said Zelda with another slight laugh. "Of course, that's the problem. She seems quite ready, eager, enthusiastic even. But that does not disclose if she has been properly prepared, has at least a somewhat active history,"

Isabelle was not entirely certain of that which they spoke but sensed it had something to do with the sensations she was feeling from the flower as for the rest of it, whoever he was and what it had to do with her she found herself unconcerned. She closed her eyes trying to tune back into the fading sensations now just barely fondling her most intimate parts.

"Here Isabelle. Drink this. It will help you come back down." Sylvie held a cup to her lips and though she was of mixed feelings regarding coming back down which wouldn't have been mixed at all had she not had others standing around staring at her, she swallowed.

It was like nectar, sweet and soothing but it seemed like it was missing something, something that kept it from tasting like what she imagined ambrosia would taste like. With it came the feeling of a chilled wet cloth, rubbing down her body, between her legs becoming icy and neither pleasant nor unpleasant. The sensation faded leaving her calm body and mind, the memory of the sensations that had caused her to writhe and moan fading completely. She was not distressed as the all she'd experienced became but a bit of knowledge, history perhaps, but attached to no sensation or emotion.

She looked up clear eyed and noticed besides her, and those who had to be Sylvie, Zelda and Dexter, there were two other females and one other male in the room.

"Perhaps she should be asked before everything wears off and the rest arrive. I doubt she'll appreciate the questions if fully aware and faced with an even larger audience," the other man declared.

"Yes, you are right, Sebastian. Allow me," Sylvie said as she slid a chair close to Isabelle as if to block sight of the others. "Take another large sip, Isabelle. There are things we must know before we can speak in earnest and the tonic will make it easier for you. Still feeling a bit dazed, Isabelle did as she was bid. This time the drink suffused her with comfort and calm. And the sense that nothing need be kept secret from these people who only wanted the best. . .

But for me? The question popped into her mind. There seems to be another they are concerned with and I may be the one they are looking for or I may not be. And if I am not, what then? Will they still be concerned with my well-being or will something terrible happen to me? They seem almost desperate to help this man of whom they speak and perhaps I have a role in that but I know not what. And they seem to be far from unanimously certain I am the one to help him in the first place.

"Yes, Isabelle, we are most certainly concerned with your well-being. If is you are not the one for whom we search. You could still be the one for one of the others yet to find. . . "

"Enough Lucian. You'll scare the girl," Dexter interrupted.

"If you are not the one, you will be returned to your life to live just as before, but you will be far wealthier than you are today, having gone through this ordeal," Sylvie said, pressing the cup again to Isabelle's lips. She took a large sip. Suddenly going back to her old life to live as before didn't sound so inviting. She preferred to play out the adventure. She may be the one for whom they searched. The thought in and of itself excited her. Even at 32 she hadn't lost her hope that her life would one day be filled with excitement and wonder. She just had to be the one.

"What are your questions," she asked boldly.

Without preamble, Sylvie began. "You are not a virgin are you?"

"No," Isabelle answered without hesitation. She wouldn't say she was entirely comfortable with this line of conversation but if she was the one she wouldn't let shyness stand in the way. She would answer openly no matter what they asked. The questions continued.

"How many men have you been with?"

"Two," Here there was a murmur but Sylvie hushed them. "That is plenty. Some have gone to their marriage bed virgins.

"Only two and both had a very difficult time," Dexter said.

"Perhaps from your point of view. I don't remember either of them complaining, quite the opposite in fact. And they are both fully bonded females in happy marriages and able to provide their husbands all that they need," Zelda said.

Isabelle became confused again, uncertain of whether the conversation boded well for the future she hoped for. Helping this man was beginning to seem extremely involved, perhaps permanent. And as if she would have no choice in the matter. She opened her eyes in a panic.

"No, no Isabelle. You will always have a choice. Nothing is to be forced upon you. If in fact you are the one for whom we search you will still be able to choose your future's path. Do not fear, your free will never be removed."

"Tssssss. Be careful in what you say, Sylvie. It could happen if he is determined to have her and binds her without her assent. It is permitted him, and has occurred on occasion even with those to whom it was not permitted," Dexter said.

"Not with this man. He will never bind her against her will if he determines she is to be his. He will go about the old fashion way until she is convinced. And Gabriel can be very convincing when he wants to be," Sylvie said.

Isabelle didn't worry about all the words that came before. All she heard was a name. Gabrielle. Yes, if she was the one she would do whatever was needed to help this man.

"Just a little more Isabelle. Did you enjoy your experiences with the two men you were with? Did they bring you to orgasm?"

"It was . . . Okay," Isabelle struggled to be honest. "It wasn't like I expected. It was . . . nice. No I didn't. . . orgasm. Either time."

"You were only with them once each?" Dexter asked sounding slightly appalled.