An encounter of the most unnerving nature occurred recently between myself and another, and threats were made to those that I hold most dear. I now watch them all the more closely, for although the threat appears to have diminished once more, I am taking no chances. I allow few near my family, and trust fewer still to treat them as I believe that they should be treated. I am perhaps suffering from a measure of paranoia and/or anxiety, but I can never be too cautious where my family are concerned, most particularly my son. I will not allow any harm to come to them, and though I have not openly spoken of this threat previously, I speak of it now to make my stance on the matter very clear. Inescapably so. I will not tolerate any further developments of this kind. My family are everything to me, and I will strike down anyone who dares to cause any modicum of harm to them. I do not care who you are and who your connections of blood are. I will ever be true to mine, and I will protect what I consider to be precious to me. The lives of my family are above all price. I do not suggest that you provoke my temper, for though I am not naturally overtly vicious in temperament, my nature as a vampire dictates that I can be swift and deadly if need be. I kill for survival. But I will also kill to keep those I love safe, if it comes to that.

Do not think that I value your life above theirs, for I do not. To presume such would be an arrogant and gross misapprehension on your part. Think well on what I have said, for I have thought long on your words. I would suggest you stay out of my business, as I have not pryed into yours. Leave me and my loved ones be, or suffer the consequences.

My footsteps lead me at last back to the threshold of Blackwood Farm, fresh from the hunt with my beloved Ophelia at my side. Inside, however, awaits another joy, one which I have been experiencing for a few weeks now on a new level. A small voice calls me an endearment that is related to fatherhood, and runs to me, eager to show me what he has been doing with his day. There is not for the moment a disconsolate or questioning expression upon his features. He is happy, genuinely happy, and my heart is full at the sight of it. My son is back to himself, and no longer does he question my lifestyle as much. In fact, I think I could even say that at least temporarily, he is adjusting to it. My fears, my thoughts...no longer are they as sharp and scattered.

A few words with Jasmine about the running of the businesses around and related to it, and a few nights off here and there, as well as spending time with Jerome as much as I have been able to seem to have worked wonders. I have not known this sort of peace in a long while, with my family, though I do not know how long it will last. Despite this, my hopes are currently high for the future. Regardless, I could not forget Immortal Sojourns, and I could not forget those who matter the most to me. And so I am here again after my shameful neglect, here to listen and to speak, as I hopefully will be from now on. And once again, I am forever in debt to the priceless advice of a friend, whose presence in my life is something that I will always be grateful for.

I'm where I belong. With my beloved, my family, and my friends. Will the shield of this peace carry me through the eye of an impending storm?

I truly do not know.

After time that I have spent with my son, time that I have spent at home, I return with one of those interesting friends-list quizzes.

What is my theme song? Post a comment to this entry and name the song, and the reason why. Then post this in your own LiveJournal if you want to.

Any thoughts?

I am sitting here this evening at the desk in the living room, surrounded by books and maps, ostensibly putting all the finishing touches on the itinerary for our trip next month. The truth is I am finding it almost impossible to get any work done. A certain beautiful redheaded witch is proving to be a very powerful distraction and I cannot keep my eyes off of her. At her request, the house is illuminated only by candles this evening, their incandescent glow reflecting in the mirrors on the wall behind me.

She is stretched out comfortably in one of the wicker chaise lounges in the corner of the room, an open window behind her. One leg is provocatively draped across the arm of the chaise and damn it - if that were not enough to distract me, she is wrapping one silken red tress of hair around her finger, her eyes glancing over the edge of her book. Those tresses appear to be a flame in the glow of the candles and I can see the tip of her pink tongue flick over those coral lips I love to kiss. I could walk over there right now and do that very thing but I am enjoying the slow tease of my senses.

I watch a smile grace the corners of her lips as she pretends to ignore me, knowing full well she knows exactly what I am thinking right now. I can imagine an eternity of these nights together. I could relive each and every moment - each wanton look, each playful gesture, each whispered secret or endearing word nestled at my ear - and never grow weary of them. She rules my heart and is my very life and soul and I could spend each and every night proving that to her in a variety of ways, big and small - in our long conversations that wile away the hours till dawn, in the dance of hearts that beat in perfect unison as we lie in each other's arms, in the long kisses and slow exploration of each inch of her body.

She shifts in her seat and I can catch a glimpse of her porcelain skin gleam in the candles' glow. Once gain her eyes meet mine and my smile radiates each and every thought and image playing through my senses. Her look is almost a challenge, albeit a very gentle one. With a toss of her hair, she drops the book to the floor and stretches languidly, fully aware of the effect of each move on me. Slamming my own book shut, I stand up and move deliberately over to the chaise. Going down on one knee, I gather her into my arms, raining kisses over her face and the smooth cream of her shoulders. Her arms wrap possessively around my neck and just the look in her eyes proves the claim she has on my soul. My mouth searches her throat longingly, teeth grazing the cool flesh and savoring the tiny beads that grace her skin. My mouth finally claims hers and I feel the long sigh that sings through her body as she nestles in my arms.

The night stretches out in front of us as all the others have - a wandering of hours that belong to only us. Breaking the kiss for just a second, I extinguish all but one candle in the room and slip next to her on the chaise, my hands running the length of her body. Is it any wonder I love the night?

Thank-you, Anna. It is perfect!

Our evening together was everything I could have hoped it to be. There was a sweet intimacy that hung in the air between us that had been absent for weeks now. And it opened and bloomed into a magic that left us both trembling by dawn. Life with a witch is beyond mere enchantment.

I am sitting here now, desperately trying to collect my wits and decide on my next move. I no longer have a choice in the matter. I will have to heed David's advice and bring in some sort of security measures during daylight hours. I should have done this weeks ago, perhaps after the first incident.

The pictures are definitely of Jerome; there are too many closeups for there to be any doubt he was the photographer's target. I have not even shown them to Jasmine. Neither she or Jerome are even aware the pictures were taken. They must have been shot a few days ago when she took him into the city to purchase new clothes and other items he needed. Several were taken at the city park and at a restaurant they had lunch in. This was a day for the two of them, a sort of welcome to our new city. I thought of questioning him to see if he recalled anyone suspicious in the immediate vicinity, but this will only agitate him and his mother. She is still on edge about the last incident.

I have said nothing to Mona yet and I am not sure how to proceed. I have been making a conscious effort to block my thoughts and that has raised her suspicions. It is also exhausting.

As much as I hate to do this, I think I will call Lestat. I know he is preoccupied with Louis and Brian, but I know he would want to hear from me about this.

If I sit for long enough in the still heat of the evening, perhaps I will be able to gather my thoughts into some semblance of calm and order. I do not know what to be - furious, disgusted, vengeful, cautious? Louis has told me not to jump to a worst case scenario and panic; that there is no cause for packing everyone I hold dear up and moving out temporarily. Lestat is paying lip service in agreeing, but I can tell there is something he knows or at least suspects. And David remains both calm and inscrutable.

Dear God, if something I have done from the past has come home to roost with my family and friends, I will never forgive myself. I have been racking my brain all evening, trying to figure out who could be responsible for what has been happening. Does it tie into Petronia at all? For that is really the only connection I can think of who would wish harm to me or those I love.

Jasmine is beside herself. She is in her room, sedated. Who would be cruel and vicious enough to have done this to her? Another package was sent, this time to her - and with no address. And its contents - my God if I were mortal, I would have been physically ill. The package contained a finger, a small pinky with a gold signet ring. She became hysterical, and who can blame her? Mona has taken Jerome with her to Lestat's as I feel completely lost right now. And I cannot leave Jasmine unattended.

I certainly did not embark on this latest trip with the hopes of discovering any blaring truths, or even having sudden mysteries solved. But I also did not expect to come home with more questions than answers. The simple law of averages precludes that - or so I thought. I feel I have not progressed any further in my quest to find the person or reason behind the events that have shaken me. If anything, I feel even more confused, lost, and concerned. Words cannot even begin to describe the sheer relief and joy I felt upon my return. Just seeing the faces of those three I love above any others was balm to my troubled soul.

The address we had to work from proved a rapid dead end. We were able to trace it to a warehouse, which had been completely abandoned. Inquiries with all the local and obvious choices proved futile. In short, a complete dead end. I am not concerned - Lestat has promised to have it all sorted out. No one can hide that well; a trace will eventually be made. At least the trip was not a total waste. We were able to determine the possible time period and origin of the statue. We secured and employed an excellent appraiser of antiques in the city. He has determined the statue to be circa 1652, France. This would roughly place it during the court of Louis XIV. He could not offer any suggestions as to a local dealer, but did take several photographs and has been hired to see if he can find the seller. He also suggested that we search more esoteric sources as the piece could possibly have been connected to Satanic practices. This has me concerned that the target may be Mona.


And Lestat has confided in me that the Talamasca are again in the city. Under the circumstances, that should come as a blessing. But it seems more a further curse.

Posted: Sat Jul 30, 2005 7:12 pm Post subject:

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I have finally had a chance to speak with Lestat regarding my recent trip to Chicago. And now it looks as if we will both be headed out there again - late evening flight tomorrow night. I was greeted this evening with a disturbing piece of mail - a small package was delivered; Jasmine received it. It was addressed from Chicago and at first I though perhaps it was something I had left at my lawyer's office. Imagine my dismayed shock when I unwrapped a small figurine of a devil. It appears to be quite old, and carved from some sort of wood. It is without a doubt one of the most malevolent looking items I have seen. Mona begged me to dispose of it immediately, a request also made by Jasmine. Neither of them want to risk Jerome seeing it - there is something almost unnatural about the figure and its effect is disturbing. As Jerome is at a very impressionable age, I can understand and concur with their opinion. I want to take it back to Chicago to see if I can trace down the store or dealer it was purchased from - it is quite possibly an antique. I wish David were here; I believe he might be able to shed some light as to its origins. Lestat and I also plan on hunting down the address. That is most likely wishful thinking on mt point as far as clues. If the item was sent in an attempt to unsettle me - and I believe it was - the party who sent it is hardly likely to remain at that address. Still, it is better than nothing. Frankly, I am very nervous about leaving Mona, Jasmine, and Jerome. I am hoping I can prevail upon Louis to keep an eye on them while we are gone.

There is a strange quirk of fate in which the hunter becomes the game. Then again, this could all be in my imagination. This past month or so has seen my time divided between projects at Blackwood Manor, and some related business travel in Chicago. Those evenings that were spent close to home involved some forages into New Orleans, many of them alone as Lestat was preoccupied with other things; and then both he and Mona were in Paris.

Like so many of my kind, I am a creature of semi-habit. I have my little quirks of schedule and several favorite haunts I tend to frequent. I do, however, vary the path I take from night to night - perhaps more out of a perverse need for some semblance of variety. How to explain, then, the uneasy sense of being followed? Of having been watched - both here and in Chicago? What makes it even more difficult to understand and to accept is that it was a mortal presence. I caught a glance once or twice of whom I think the person is. It is even more frustrating to realize I have seen the face before, but cannot put a name to it. She appears to be in her middle thirties - the kind of face that could claim anywhere from 25 to 40 years. She is attractive enough in a rather exotic and brazen way, the sort of looks I associate with "closed" people.

Perhaps it is only the summer heat; perhaps I am too preoccupied myself. And perhaps next time I sense her in my vicinity, I will run her to ground.