  It is hard to get close to people in my line of work. I am always away from home, travelling around the world. That is not considering that fact that most men are intimidated by a strong woman. Even others of les griffés would be wary of me. They are wary of me. Not only do I work closely with one who is considered our natural born enemy; but I am also intelligent, ambitious, and I have trained my body until I can pick up a small car with little effort.
Even ifles griffés are naturally stronger, most of the females do not condition their bodies to that extent. None of this is exactly good weather in which to form a loving relationship. It very nearly makes me miss my ex-fiancé. Almost. Until I remember that he is a no-good, inconsiderate saboteur. And if I ever see him again, I will not kiss him-- I will kill him.
You remember when I said that my parents were murdered? I lost not only just my parents on that day. I lost my love, my companion, my entire family, and very nearly my life. The hunters that trapped and murdered my parents made a deal and bought off my ownfianc é in order to complete their evil deed. Little did I know that he had discovered he would inherit the entire estate of my parents in the south of France if we all died. Too bad for him that I didn't.
I remember that day like it was yesterday. Some nights I awaken in sweat and tears from a my nightmares. Nightmares of the giant orange harvest moon, hung like some god's eye against the velvet darkness of the sky. The landscape of the country outside Paris fell away beneath her as she soared high in her flight. I had felt secure there, happy and free with my parents and fiancé around my. The warm air caressed my irridescent wings as we flew on a backdrop of stars.
The four of uswould have been a beautiful sight, had human eyes been able to behold us. Instead, our scaly hides refracted the light, bending it around our bodies until we could not be seen,except by body heat alone. I turned her head, sensing the warm glow of Jacques falter from my right side. My eyes in that form are a shade of silver, and were able to "see" my family thermally. Jacques had begun to sink beneath the cloud cover, toward a wooded hillside below. *Jacques?
* I sent a concerned thought his way. No answer. My parents, sensing his distress, began their descent immediately behind him; determined to slow his now erratic descent toward the trees. Jacques landed within the woods, shrouded by a heavy fog so that he disappeared from sight. My parents landed moments behind, while I was still aloft behind them. There was a flash and a retort, and then a roar of pain from below.
Now alarmed, I descended faster. *No! * Came my mother's thought-voice. *Run! There are hunters here! Go home!
We will follow! * My mother's voice was calm, with just a hint of tremble. I brushed the tremble off as shock. How dare hunters try to capture my family! We were strong wyverns, keeping the family secret and active in Paris' political life. My father was wealthy, and we lived in an estate to the south of the city.
My family had spent generations trying to aid the humans of France. It was madness! But I had faith in my parents' abilities. In my 19 years, I had never seen anything Jean and Collette could not overcome. So, I obeyed my mother's command and flew the two hours back toward the city. I landed in the still-wooded outskirts, and sat hunched and silent in the dark.
I waited, breathless with worry for my family, and invisible to the surrounding night for another hour. No one came. After that time, with only a few hours left until dawn, I drew my courage around me like a gauzy veil and returned to the hillside. My eyes found no hint of warmth for miles, so I landed, wondering if the hunters had succeeded in capturing my family after all. I touched down in a clearing soaked with blood. My father's body lay slightly closer to the near side of the clearing, his razor-sharp claws reaching toward me: as if the attack had come from this way, and he'd been protecting the wife he'd adored.
They were both skinless and decapitated at the base of the neck. The heads and skins had been taken as trophies. Large railroad type spikes through each limb had kept them from taking off toward the sky again. There was a whole blown in my mother's right side, nearly an entire lung was missing. I remember that I trembled, remembering my mother's last calm command; my limbs shook with the pain my mother must have kept out of her thought-voice. Jacques was nowhere to be found.
I threw back my long neck and keened, a high-pitched song for the dead. I sat there as the sun rose, took his peek at the carnage of the clearing, and then hid his face behind the hills farthest to the west. I had no worries for the hunters, they had their trophies; they would not be back. Finally, after over a day of mindless grief, I used my kind's natural pyrokinetic ability to cremate the rest of the remains- bones and all- to a large pile of ash. I could not take them back with me and I could not leave them there for humans to find. Without our skins, we can be seen as easily as anything else.
When I returned home, Jacques was waiting for me. He was hurt, and claimed that he had attempted to assist my parents, and realizing he could not, had run. He said he'd searched for me, but given up with the dawn, thinking me dead. Then he lunged at me with a sword he'd had hidden behind the door. It pierced me low on my left side, and I turned and ran. I'm not sure how I managed to get away from him.
Shock and adrenaline, I suppose it would have to have been. I managed to shove him hard enough that he fell, and hit his head on a marble plinth in the entryway. I took the opportunity to run; far and fast. I stayed in Paris only long enough to have my would tended to. Then, I emptied one of my bank accounts and boarded a plane for America, hoping I would find someone there to help me with my revenge. Its been a long time since then, going on five years.
Revenge isn't my only reason to stay living anymore. I have good friends and a job that I love. But I still miss having a man around; a warm body next to me at night, and strong arms around me during the day. I don't feel like I can trust a man again, especially not one of my own kind. If he could sell out his own people, what else would he have done? Men to me seem to be more evil sometimes than revanant vampires.
I wonder if there's even one out there for me. True love doesn't seem to be the happy ending that it used to be. 
