Welcome back to our favorite story about a vampire and her Watcher. A lot of you have been asking if the end is near, others have asked to see a sequel. If you know me then you know that I won't say either way right here. You'll have to read the story to find out.
Though inspired by actual events, this story is completely borne of my own imagination. Any resemblance to any person, real or imaginary, dead or alive, or any event, past or present, is entirely coincidental. This story contains graphic depictions of torture to the mind and body, including but not limited to murder, rape, and sadistic actions. Also contained herein are graphic depictions of sexual acts between two female characters, among others. If any of these things offend your delicate sensibilities, then please do us all a favor and leave now. If you are under legal age to read this kind of material in your area, don't blame me if you get caught and punished. The author accepts no responsibility for any bodily punishments or legal actions taken against you. This story is copyrighted to, and is the property of, the author. If you would like to download this story and share it with your favorite person(s), then please ask for permission to do so. In other words: It's mine, don't steal it.
This is to all of you, especially those who have followed this story since the beginning: My book, A Walk On The Wayside: Embrace The Fall, is now available online. You can purchase a paperback copy, or download it for your eBook device. Just go online to Barnes & Noble's website and search the title.
I'd like to take this time to thank everyone who has supported through this entire project, and those who are just now joining our family. It's been a pleasure and an honor to write for such good people that I would otherwise never have met. As I stated before, I never would have thought that this story would take off like it has. Some of you have asked me to get it published into a book, or even turn it into a movie. Let me know what YOU think of that idea.
Now sit back, relax, and enjoy part 19 of Abandoned Blood.
Episode 19
This is not a love story, but it is a story about love and the power that has over people; the power to heal, and the power to destroy. The failure to love someone dear to you can have dire consequences. Ironically, failing to hold dear that which you love can be equally devastating. There is a fine line between love and hate, one needs to be wary how closely they tread. You cannot hide from love, because if you do hate will find it's way into your heart and make you do things you wouldn't have considered in your darkest dreams.
Had I understood any of this before that fateful day nearly seven weeks ago, I would have done things differently. My mother once told me how much she regretted listening to her friends and going to that party. At the time, of course, I didn't have a clue what she meant by that. Just two weeks ago I would have thought that translated into regretting having me as her child, but now I know what she was trying to tell me. She was worried that this very fate might befall upon me. That's why she took great pains to keep me safe from all the hate of this world. That's why she would chase her husband away from me when he was drunk. She didn't know what might trigger the virus in my DNA to manifest. But for all of her efforts, she forgot to hold me dear to her and thus I ended up rebelling against everything she fought for, and followed in her footsteps: ending up at a party that changed my life.
Nadia's parents were dead-set on keeping her locked away from the cruelty of the world. They often fought about how best to deal with her changing body. She's told me several times about how bad the arguments got--even worse than the memory she once showed me. They didn't hold dear the person they both loved, and ended up turning her into the very monster they feared would come to take her. In one regrettable motion, all that they fought for evaporated into the dark of the night. Nadia was born into the vampire world because they both loved her. She eventually found her way across the ocean and into my life. People often say that your life is planed out, but they neglect to tell you by whom that plan was created.
I shrugged off all of those thoughts of nonsense. Believe what you will, your reality is your reality; it's up to you to decide how it plays out. My decision may have been forced, but I'm gonna see it through. My vampire, my lover, has been taken by her eternal tormentor, so, as her Watcher, it's up to me to see that she's returned safely. She's the one that must sever the ties to her master.
I liked the way my boots sounded on the pavement. The night was cold, a light misty rain started to fall. I put my shades over my eyes and changed my vision over. That way the fucking street demons of this city would know that I'm not some little piss-ant human that they can take advantage of. I heard some of them whispering from the alleys, mocking me as I strode past them without a worry or care. I could smell the pheromones that they spewed, but they didn't affect me like they normally would. That was interesting, but my legs kept moving forward.
For some reason I felt as if someone was following me. I subconsciously felt for the knife that Nadia kept inside this coat. I stretched out my aura and felt for whoever was stalking me. My legs kept moving as though I didn't know he was there. Noises, savage and wet, echoed in my head. A second later they reverberated off the dilapidated building to my right. There was a warm wind on the back of my neck. Instinct took over. I leapt to my left and pulled the knife out. As I fell to the ground I spun. My right arm found something solid. It happened, and was over that fast.
By the time I managed to shake my hair from face, the man who followed me was on the ground gasping and growling. The knife was sticking straight out of his chest, blood poured out of him, his wounded heart desperately trying to keep him alive. I rolled over and crawled forward. His eyes were completely black and his fangs glistened in the blood he coughed up. Images of Harold and what he did to me flashed through my head; I saw Nadia's face where mine should have been. Flashes of Tiffany and Sylvia came and went. I grabbed the hilt and threw it back against his gut, carving out a huge gash in his chest and forcing the tip into his black heart. I listened to the tissue and tendons tear away. The stocky man gasped one last time before he put on the same smile that Harold did.
I watched him for a couple more seconds before pulling the blade out. I used a clean part of his shirt to wipe off the blood. I got to my feet, never once taking my eyes off him. Anger and resentment replaced every ounce of sympathy our guilt. I didn't feel any pride or satisfaction, nor did I feel anything that told me that killing him was bad. All that made a "good person" was screaming in my brain about how wrong this was, but everything else was applauding how easily I took him down. Just as his eyes rolled over empty, I exhaled and spit on his lifeless body.
Once I turned on my heels I heard the little street demons back away from the immediate area. My steps were harder. My head was on a swivel the farther I got from from the body. Laughing, snickering, cackling, flashes of light surrounded me--left, right, on the rooftops, in the alleys--everywhere. It was as if they were all following me, waiting for the perfect moment to jump my ass. All I could do was laugh.
"You think I'm scared?" I called out to the night. A slight maniacal laugh escaped me. I couldn't care less what they thought of me. That strange feeling that I felt when I mentally shoved Henry into the wall was finally given a name: alive. I was alive and these little fucking bottom-feeders were not going to kill me. I continued laughing at the thought of them ending up like Mr. Harold-wannabe. "I'm not afraid of you. Any of you!" Silence was my answer.
My grip on the knife handle tightened with anticipation. I knew these people too well to be taken off guard. My pulse quickened at the thought of finally being alive and free. It felt like a huge weight was lifted off of my body and soul. I couldn't help but think of the irony in that. It took the death of someone to feel more alive. As I continued walking towards Father Darien's favorite place, I was almost hoping another would leap at me to challenge that feeling.
The road to the restaurant went uneventful after that. Besides the occasional sound of footsteps and someone getting picking their dinner out of a garbage can, nothing happened. The weird thing was seeing those bums dig through those tin cans and industrial dumpsters strengthened my resolve to end this. They are the ones that the renegades and lowlife vamps feed upon. And one of my best friends was one of them.
I followed the curve of the street until I was looking at a very quaint but curious sign. As small as that neon logo was, there was nothing bigger to me in that moment. It's a strange feeling looking at the doorway to hell knowing that you not only have been there once and escaped, but you have to go back in. I couldn't imagine what that fucking piece of shit was doing to them. I stepped closer to the stairs leading down. I think the most disturbing part of this was the clean "Welcome" mat before the door.
I closed my eyes and reached out with my mind. "Nadia, if you can hear me, let me hear your voice again." There, I did it. I reached out to her as clearly as possible. I put every sense into the image I conjured: her beautiful eyes; her charming smile; the touch of her skin; her unique smell; the taste of her lips; the sound of her voice. In the time it took to reopen my eyes, I fell. I fell forever. The pressure of time and space twisted my inner organs and bones. I was me, but not me. This has happened before, but it wasn't so intense. My cheek rested on the wet pavement, but I was no longer looking at Father Darien's sign. I was looking at his feet.
"Get up," the demon growled. One of my eyes was beaten shut. Blood seeped out of my mouth and face. My wrists burned from where the ropes held me down. Dirt and muck caked almost every inch of my overly exposed skin. I was naked except for my panties and tank top. All of my insides hurt. My entire essence was pain.
"I said get up!" he shouted at the man lying on the other side of the room. He reached down and pierced his claws into the man's shoulder. He hauled him up, smiling as he screamed. The Father examined him for a moment, probably discerning how best to play with him. A woman was crying just outside of my vision. I knew that voice. "Oh, I see your sister would like to come out and play now that she's finally awake," he snickered. He no longer carried the air of high class, he was but the scum he commanded.
He threw Travis into the wall across the room. His back and skull made a sickening noise against the stones. "NO!" Tiffany screamed when he started towards her. Her restraints jingled in her feeble attempts to get away from him. "NO!"
Father Darien grabbed her by the jaw and lifted her to her feet. He looked her over with an even colder disregard. "I suppose you need something to silence you once again," he said with a huff, almost as though her being awake was just an inconvenience. Using his thumb as a spike, he pierced her abused, scarred shoulder and forced her to her knees. "You need to learn your place, little morsel," he said through her cries of pain.
One of his cronies, a man I didn't recognize, came out of the shadows and pulled back on her hair. The man covered her mouth with his own. The Father just smiled and laughed. He pulled his thumb out of her shoulder and carefully brought it up to their faces. Instantly, the man backed away. "Open," he said. When she didn't comply right away, Tiffany was given a quick cut to the cheek. He made a face to repeat himself. She looked at him despite the gashes above her eyes, blackened and swollen from the filth down here. She obeyed and took his blood-soaked finger into her mouth. He moaned as if she was blowing him, and for good reason.
"Leave her alone, you bastard," came a distinctly black man's voice from behind me. That was soon met by the sound of something solid hitting flesh. I think it might have been one of the rusty iron bars from the door. Then came the sound again, except with a piece of wood. Bones broke, tendons and cartilage snapped and cracked. The rich odor of blood overpowered the stench of death, piss, and shit.
"Enough!" the Father hissed through clenched teeth. "Can't you see that's turning on our guests?" Just like that, Marcus's beating stopped. He was right, as digested as it may be, I was getting turned on by all of the emotion and blood in the room. I wanted to shut my eyes and make it all go away, but I couldn't deny that my body responded like this. It's the instinct that keeps us sane; it's the twisted paradox that is the nature of the vampires.
Father Darien pulled his digit out of Tiffany's mouth. He smiled even wider when she leaned forward to chase it. "Please," she begged, "I need it. I need your teeth in me. I'll do anything, just put'em inside me."
"That's better, little bleeder," he said warmly. He stroked her hair, she started twisting her hips in as lewd of motion as possible. "What more do you want?"
She shot her gaze up to him. "I don't care! I need to feel those beautiful teeth under my skin."
The pheromones hit me as well. I would have started playing with myself if my free arm wasn't broken. Or my pussy wasn't on fire. I watched her wiggle around like a junkie needing her fix, begging for a hit. I could smell her sex from here.
"I'm not going to bite you," the Father said coldly. "I like watching you move like the insect you are."
"NO!" Her eyes shot open. She leaned forward as far as her chains allowed. "Don't do that. I need you inside me." She moaned as though she was being teased and wasn't allowed to cum.
The heavy iron door opened. Another big man, dressed for this kind of work and not much better looking, entered the room dragging something behind him. Whatever it was, it was wrapped in a burlap sack and reeked to the point of nauseating. My stomach turned. He hoisted the sack onto his shoulder and presented it to the coven master. Father Darien used his finger to cut open the top. A lock of blonde hair fell out. "Ah yes," he said joyfully, "Our party is nearly complete. Put her in the cuffs beside the other one."
The man did so without a peep. Tiffany pulled at her chains and started crying, completely ignoring the fact that Amber was being shackled not three feet away. She was alive, but only just. Her shirt was nearly black from all the dried blood. I couldn't recognize her face, only by scent. She flopped in accordance with the man's every move.
"Bring the others down here when they're ready," Father Darien ordered. The man simply nodded and headed back out the door.
A voice, beautiful and pleading, entered my head. "Charlene... help us. Take this, and help us get out of this. I give this to you... take it." My eyes blinked a few times, and just like that, I was once again looking at the sign that read Coven Darien.
I refused to dust myself off. I stood up and steeled myself. Almost. A tear welled up in my eye. My hands started shaking. I felt queasy.
"What the fuck are you doing here, Charlie?" I asked myself out loud. "Of all the dumb ideas you've had, this is the worst." Damn, I didn't realize Adriel's condition was contagious. Right about then what little I had eaten came back up. Good, now the place smells like it's supposed to.
Step by agonizing step I made my way down to the door. The heavy oakwood seemed more intimidating than the last time. It's iron hinges cried out in argument when I pushed. It sounded less like a creaking and more like an omen of things to come. I didn't know whether to be surprised or not that the place was unlocked. Typical Father Darien arrogance; his higher-than-thou attitude will never cease to amaze me. He welcomed me in knowing damn well that could best me in a fair fight. I had no intention of keeping this fight fair.
If the fight is fair then your tactics suck, I mused.
There were no cronies to greet me when I entered. I fully entered the building and closed the door. The emptiness of the room filled me with a strange nostalgia. The last time I was here the place was packed, but I felt so utterly lost and alone. Now that it was void of any sign of life, that feeling didn't change. The signs and TVs over the bar were off. The barstools and chairs were neatly stacked off the floor as though they just got done cleaning after a busy night.
I slowly walked through the restaurant, remembering everything I saw that night. I had a hard time recounting every image, but I knew why. That fucking bastard and all of his loser underlings caused me to have a mental overload and pass out which sent Nadia into fight mode and took down that biggest guy in the joint. Not a second later I passed by the booth in which we sat when that happened, and the glass placed upon it. I removed my shades to make sure I saw what I saw. Sure enough, the same drink I served last time was sitting there as though they had been waiting for me to come in for a nightcap, like I was a regular here.
Very funny, I thought. Like I'm going to drink anything from this place. I walked behind the bar, my senses on high alert for anything out of the ordinary. I made my way through the inventory, pulling out everything that had alcohol in it. Careful not to spill too much, I placed each container on the bar. I found the knife collection they used to carve the garnish and stowed a few in my boots and belt. When I was certain that every single bottle I could find was taken out, a strange evil smile spread on my lips.
Going one at a time I opened each bottle and began coating the whole place with the contents. It didn't take long for the place to begin smelling like a brewery gone bad. Vodka, rum, whiskey, malt liquor, and whatever else was in these things did not mix well. The floors were slippery, the seats were soaked, and I still had a good dozen or so booths left over for what awaited me downstairs. But before I made my actual descent into hell, there was one more thing in the kitchen I needed to do. For a fleeting moment, I'm glad the bartender smoked and this asshole was too proud and anal about his culinary expertise to subject his patrons to something cooked on an electric stove.
I still hadn't a clue as to where the door was that lead down below. I heard Nadia's voice in my head, telling me of what was happening to them. My pulse hammered, anger rose, but I had to think. When my eyes opened, I turned towards the meat locker.
"Tell me it's not that easy," I said to no one.
I opened the door. Cattle carcasses hung from hooks at precise intervals leading back. Other ingredients sat on the shelves attached to either wall. The cold started to sink in the deeper I got. It wasn't a tight space, but I couldn't imagine more than two people could comfortably work in here at a time. Small pieces of ice dotted the floor, the metal poles of the shelves were frosted over. My azure sight did little to help me discern much of anything through the cold fog. And those damn fans above my head weren't helping me hear much anything either.
Behind the assorted farm animal parts hung a series of burlap sacks. Everyone of them were closed at the top much like a sack of potatoes, but something told me that none of them held anything starchy, or contained anything close to "Farm Fresh Meat". Maybe it was the nearly back goo dripping from the bottom. My eyes followed the droplets down. I crouched to get a better view of what I suspected would be constant for every one of them. Nestled into the tile floor, directly beneath every sack, was a funnel to collect the dripping blood. I could only shake my head in sympathy for the poor souls who met their fate at the hands of this monster. I straightened up and pulled Nadia's knife out of my coat. I stood behind the first one and cut it down.
The pouch opened and the body rolled out feet first. It was a girl no older than sixteen that I didn't recognize. Her white-and-blue skin was a horror by itself, let alone the two cuts that ran vertical down her throat directly in line with the two main arteries. The sight of her lying naked on the cold floor with all of her blood drained filled my heart with both sorrow and numbness. I wanted to cry for her--no one so young should die alone and afraid like this. I felt sorry for her, but there was nothing I could do to help her now.
One by one, I cut down the pouches that contained Father Darien's "fresh meat". The bodies slumped out just like the nameless girl had. Each one was in a different state of decomposition, as if the bodies were hung at random. Nothing about Father Darien is ever random. Number four was nothing more than bones covered in black flesh. I could barely tell it was human, let alone if a man or woman. I went through to the next one, the last in this particular row--there was another at my back. This would be my last one, the smell of rotting flesh was getting overwhelming in spite of the cold air; the others would have to go undiscovered. The thought of leaving them here sent a chill all over my body.
This sack still had a steady stream of blood running from it, and from the slight warm touch, it couldn't have been in here more than an hour. A knot formed in my stomach, but I had to know for sure. I cut the rope and stepped back to let whoever fall out. I stifled a scream when her open eyes stared back at me. I had to bite on the sleeve of my jacket to keep from crying out. Sylvia's eyes stared blankly back at me, her mouth agape as if she was begging for me to help her. Her face, just like all the others, was covered in her own blood, but I'd know those eyes anywhere. I shrunk down beside her, frosty tears running down my face, and used the unsullied part of the bag to wipe away what I could. It was thick, gooey, and clung to her skin as though it belonged on the outside. My mouth moved by itself issuing apology after apology. Rather than clean her off, I covered her with the itchy sack to at lest give her some kind of dignity.
Her blood was on my hands. Literally and metaphorically. It was because of me that she was dead. She said that she did what she had to in order to stay alive, but that's what ended up killing her. Keep me safe from all this shit. The urge to look for my brother came and went. I didn't have enough time for that now, and if my plan worked, the only way I'd find him was if he was still alive anyway.
I shut my eyes as hard as I could and screamed one last time. "Fuck!" Anger turned into rage, compassion for the dead became hatred for the undead. I may be the good guy in all this, but tonight my demons will be unleashed to feast on that mother fucker's life and everyone with him.
My blood boiled through my veins. It was hot enough to block out the overly offensive odor; hot enough to distract me from the falling temperature. My steps were hard enough to make my breath huff from my mouth. Nice puffs that hung in the air and mixed with that of the overhead fans. I stopped dead in my tracks when I saw something amiss just beyond the last hook. Or, to be more precise, something in the way. I knew it wasn't in my head, someone shut the door on me. At least that means I'm close to the nest.
I tried the door, but it wouldn't budge. I didn't recall seeing either a lock or hole for a padlock. Just freaking great. That meant that someone was on the other side holding the damn thing closed. And apparently he or she was quite strong. I threw my weight behind my shoulder and rammed the door. It bounced then slammed back shut. "Open the fucking door, asshole!"
A cackling laugh was my answer. It sounded like it was coming from in here instead of out there. It bounced off the walls, came from behind the beef racks, spit down from the cooling fans. Again and again it hit me, each time more maniacal than the last. I spun like a madwoman trying to locate the source. My hands were over my ears, my teeth grit together to block it out. It slowly turned into a kind of hissing sound, almost like that of Adriel.
"One cannot see what lies ahead when sun has failed and moon is dead, indeed."
Suddenly the room stopped spinning. That wasn't Adriel. "Who are you?" I called out to no one. "Where are you!"
"He-he-hehe-hehehe. She wants to know our name does she?" It's voice was practically a whine. "No, she wants to know where we're at." It came from behind the meat, but it's voice changed to a gravelly, throaty growl. Great, I've got Golem in here taunting me.
"You've gotta be freaking kidding me," I muttered, pinching the bridge of my nose.
"Kidding? No we don't kid when we're hungry," the growling voice answered.
The blonde girl that I just cut down came sliding across the floor. I jumped onto a shelf to avoid her. The body hit the door with a sickening thud. Not cool, dude.
I turned my head towards a the direction of sacks' row. "You are really fucked in the head."
"We know, isn't this fun," the whiny one said amused.
Yeah I go corpse bowling every fucking weekend, I thought. "Come out here, ass for brains and open the door."
Another round of laughter rang out. It sounded like both of them were laughing as one. The hooks started swaying, their chains jingling against each others. I couldn't hear his footsteps, but the girl didn't make much noise either. I felt rather than saw the thing coming towards me. I could hear his breathing, raspy, harsh, and controlled. I remained braced on the shelf, my eyes narrowed in anticipation of what might come flying at me next. I leapt to the other side just a cow-half came flying off the hook.
"Oh looky looky, big brother!" it said in all joyfulness. "This is going to be more fun than the last one."
"Don't count on it, Golem," I scoffed back.
"Don't call us that," the other one warned. "That is not our name." Through the semi-dense fog I could make out his scraggly form. He looked like one of Father Darien's street urchins alright, disproportionally long arms with even more disproportionally large hands. His back hunched over and his head seemed small for the width of his shoulders. Sharp-looking talons, maybe six inches in length, protruded from each finger. It was tough to make out his face, but I'm sure he looked nothing like Fabio. "Our name is Asmadeus. Learn it well."
"Can I call you Ass for short?"
I heard a hissing growl, then saw his arm twitch. Before I had time to react the back of his hand smacked me on the side of my head. I slid back until I hit something hard-but-soft on the floor. I didn't have time to think about it, he used the plastic of the shelf like a springboard to launch himself at me. I rolled to the right and barely avoided his coming blow. I heard his claws cut through the tile floor and dead body. His gaze slowly turned to meet mine. I saw Asmadeus in all of his disgusting glory. His face was more demon-like than any other being I've come across. This must be one of those vampiric abortions Nadia told me about. His eyes were almost bigger than his forehead, his nose crushed against his face, and his few oversized teeth looked like they were sharpened daily.
"Little morsel, the more you move, the more this is going to hurt." Then he smiled, his black, eel-like tongue fell out of his mouth. He panted like a dog for two heartbeats then attacked again.
I brought my foot up and hit his stomach. I launched him into the side of the freezer and pulled one of the knives out in one fluid motion.
"That hurt," the whiny voice complained. "She dared hurt us." Asmadeus' other half growled something that I translated as "shut up". I got to my feet and paused. I didn't know if it was a good idea to attack him head on while he was arguing with himself or not. "Little morsel, you will pay for that."
I swung the knife instinctively when I noticed his shoulder twitch. I felt it hit something that wasn't exactly flesh or bone, but I didn't care. I made him bleed, and if he can bleed then he can be killed. The whiny voice howled in agony. The other side of him brought the gash to his nose and sniffed loudly. "Lemon juice," Asmadues-dominant said inquisitively. "Lemon juice! You bitch!" The cut began to smoke. As weird as it looked I was gonna take it. Before I could take another frosty breath he smashed through the freezer door. I think it bounced off the industrial dishwasher across the room
I kept my guard up though. I had no idea what the hell I just fought off, but he had a buddy on the other side of that door. I stretched out my aura, but found nothing. I still wasn't going to take any chances--I sensed nothing when Adriel showed up, and just two hours ago at the house. If there was an attack on the house I should have at least picked up on the strong emotions flowing within, but all seemed normal. Normalcy simply doesn't exist to these people.
I exited the freezer and quickly spun around. I pulled the bigger knife from inside my coat. A trail of black blood led away from the dining room and through another ordinary-looking door. It looked like another meat cooler, but I didn't trust that. Why would he run through that door unless he thought it would help him, I thought. I got closer to it and noticed a smudge on the handle. There were several drop marks where he would have stood to open it. I looked back over my shoulder one last time before pulling it open and slipping inside.
To my surprise, this room wasn't cold at all. In fact it was almost hot. The dark blue light was intended to look like a freezer lamp to throw off the unsuspecting. Shutting the door, I realized why it was so easy to slip in after Asmadues. He pulled so hard on the handle that he ripped open the locking mechanism. I half-smiled at the irony of that; if he hadn't attacked me I would never have been able to open it. My legs worked all on their own. I knew I was close to the hornet's nest, I could feel it in my bones. The black dots on the floor were further apart, suggesting that he took off like a bat out of hell. A wicked grin spread on my lips.
My azure sight led me down a twisting, descending corridor. After a few minutes of making turns that had no sense of direction, I decided to give up on trying to figure these people out. It wasn't a maze, just a bunch of odd turns with the only constant being that every step was down. The floor and walls gave no indication of playing mind games, nor did they form any optical illusions, so I had no idea exactly how Father Darien planned this thing. And what was that God-awful smell?
"How high was he when he drew these plans?" I wondered out loud.
The blue fluorescent lamps continued above. As did an equally unusual pipeline. After what I just saw in the other freezer, I could only imagine what they carried. It may be their nature, but there are better ways of finding your food. These were real people--my friends--not some fucking cattle bred for slaughter. But, then again, that's how high of regard people like Father Darien held people like Sylvia. Just pieces of meat to be killed and hanged on a hook in the meat locker.
I made a sharp left turn and nearly ran into an ajar door. I guess this explains the smell of cow barn, shit, piss and death. I had to hold my arm over my face to keep from gagging. A distinctly metallic scent accompanied the muck. Iron, ancient and rusted. Nadia's vision crept to the forefront of my mind. This is where he was keeping the. Locked away like cattle going slaughter.
I pulled open the heavy wooden door. I kept it open for not only an easier escape, but for the ambient lighting. If they've been down here for any length of time, then the light would give me an advantage, however small it may be. Something was making squishy noises beneath my boots. I didn't want to think about what it may have been. A sound, fast and snappy, pulled my attention to the far right of the room. It was followed by the screams of someone I was very familiar with.
Amber.
I fought off the urge to expand my own aura, lest I give away my presence by bumping the Father's. I moved as quietly as I could, leaping from hay pile to hay pile. The cage that held them was massive. I could have sworn I read about them in school when we were studying the Inquisition. By the light of a torch and candelabra, I could see several of the occupants. Two of them had the same frames as the bouncers of the club upstairs. I couldn't make out their faces since they were wearing hooded masks.
One stood behind Amber's nearly naked form. Her arms were shackled over her head, her legs chained to the wall. A metal pole was placed between her ankles. By the way she was standing, I think her chains held her up more than her legs. Her back was torn to shreds. When her abuser slowed the whip I saw why. Instead of it being a regular cat-o-nine tails, at the end of each strand was a metal hook. Immediately to her side was Tiffany, writhing on the ground begging for one of them to bite her. The sight of her filled me with even more hate for these people. Her shoulder was bleeding, as was her mouth. They didn't need to beat her physically--all they had to do was play on her vampire vulnerabilities then let nature work her twisted magic. If she wasn't chained to the wall, I'm sure she'd be throwing herself all over the place until she got someone's teeth inside her.
On the other side of the room lay Travis' limp body, naked from the waist up. He was curled up in the fetal, defensive position. A broken board and a dented pole lay nearby. A blood stained dent marked where his head impacted the wall. An even larger blood stain was beneath his head. I looked closer. He was breathing, but just barely. One of the other large guys was standing over Marcus' limp body. His chains reached up to the ceiling, holding him of the ground. It look more like he was looking for Heaven's help, begging for it all to end. His face and body appeared to be broken in every possible way. His head flopped back, I heard something in his neck crack. I hoped that was something normal and not what my good senses told me it was. His abuser took two steps back from him and looked down.
That's when I saw Nadia. Unlike the rest of her fellow whipping toys, she had the dignity of being fully dressed. As much dread as my heart carried, at least there was less likelihood of her being sexually assaulted. After what she's told me about Father Darien and his lackeys, that made me feel better about this situation. It seemed that rape was a mere sport to these people, like the ultimate display of dominance, so for her to not be told me that she was here for nothing more than being defiant towards the coven master. And to disrespect him in any way would not be tolerated. We both learned that the hard way.
"See something you like?" Father Darien whispered in my ear. I rolled off the hay pile and swung Nadia's blade. I hit nothing. I looked back at the spot and it was empty. Damn. My little stunt put me in the full glow of the torch's light. The guy standing by the gate to the cage started my way. Double damn.
I looked around to see if I was going to be surprised by some other lowlife. The gate guard opened his closed arms. A metallic jingling sound pulled my attention back to him. I may be new to this whole dark ages motif, but I know a morning star when I see one. And by the way he was priming his attack, he's had lots of practice with it. Fuck me. He let out a growl and swung across his body. It hit the wall next to where my head was a moment ago. The pure speed of the attack caught me off guard. I know that thing weighs about twenty-five pounds, and he's swinging it like it's a baseball bat. Before I had time to think of a counter-attack, he swung again. I ducked out of the way. The spikes went through my hair, pulling out several strands I'm sure.
I dove forwards and swiped at his legs. Nadia's knife cut through something, but all it did was piss him off. He gave off a sound that I've heard Nadia make a couple times, and each time ended in someone's throat being ripped out. I rolled on the hay pile, the mace falling straight through where my heart just was. I managed to cut the asshole's wrist to the bone. He released the wooden handle and back handed me across the room. My back felt like it broke against the stone wall. I refused to allow the pain to sink in. My head popped up. He was having a hard time controlling his toy; the gash on his wrist bled profusely. I got to my feet and picked up the torch.
He paused when he saw me smiling. Out of instinct, he followed my gaze when it dropped to the hay stack upon which he stood. His determined look shifted from hate to one that challenged me not to do it. I swung it at him. Not to hit him, but to show him that I was certainly thinking about tossing it on all that beautiful kindling. Our eyes remained locked on each others. I reached into the interior coat pocket and came out with a bottle of vodka. Miraculously it was still in one piece. I broke the top off, spilling some on the muck at my feet, and splashed some on his body. He seemed more offended that I'd hit him with alcohol than burn him alive.
He charged me again. My brain slowed everything down, like it did when Nadia and I were sparring. I watched his every move with great detail. I timed his swing. Just as the star began it's upward arc, I ducked beneath it and slammed the torch into his gut. Within seconds his whole body caught fire. Even so, he refused to let his quarry off the hook. He swung back around, positioned in a weird angle. The gashes on his legs finally opened enough to send him off balance. He collapsed into a ball of fire, screaming and rolling in the muck in a desperate attempt to reach for me. I threw the bottle behind me and picked up his weapon. Heavy as it was, I gave it one quick swing and crushed his enflamed face. It hit with a sickening sound of bone crushing and blood spurting.
The two guards in the cage didn't know what to do. I must have looked like some demon from Hell coming towards them. Their comrade burned behind me, his mace held firm in my left hand, the dagger and torch in the right. I know my eyes were rolled over in that bluish-white. Both of them exited the cage. I opened my aura to see into theirs. They weren't vampires, only humans. Fucked up in the head a little, but humans nonetheless. They were afraid of me, but they feared what Father Darien would do if they let me escape more.
"You're dead either way," I pleaded to both of their minds. "So why not do something good for once in your pathetic lives and help me get them out of here?" They exchanged a look that I couldn't interpret. "I'm out for blood, boys, but not yours. Help me, and I'll help you escape that demon you serve."
The one on the right, Hans, turned around and opened the door. The other one, Rupert, went inside to unlock everyone's chains. Amber saw him and immediately fell into a screaming fit of "Stay away from me!" She continued screaming even after her shackles were opened. It wasn't until she caught sight of me that she stopped.
"Charlie?" she asked as though her pain-filled brain was playing a trick on her. I nodded. She took a few cautious steps. She was able to walk, but I'm sure it hurt like a bitch to just breathe. Her clothes hung from her like tattered curtains. I have no idea how she was able to do that much with all that flesh missing from her back. She stood in front of me and searched. "Is it really you?"
"Yes, it's me." I had to fight off the urge to hug her. I looked around and asked, "Where are Sven and Ben?"
"I don't know," she nearly cried. "I haven't seen much of anything since the house was attacked."
The two turncoats came out carrying the others. "Do you know where the other two are?"
They shared another unreadable look. Without saying a word they walked right passed me and Amber, and their scorched friend. I thought it best to follow. Amber grabbed onto my arm and tugged me away from the cage. She sneered at the burning corpse, sitting on him as we passed. We were led to another cage on the far end of the dungeon. Rupert set Travis and Marcus on the ground while he unlocked the door.
"SVEN!" I called out when I saw him slouched against the wall. Other than looking like he just got out of a bar brawl, he didn't look too bad. Ben was on the floor, his arms splayed out at impossible angles. I didn't see his chest moving.
"Charlie?" he said, much like Amber did. "Shit, how did you get down here?"
"I think the better question would be how we're getting out of here." The uncertainty in my voice didn't help any.
"You came in here without a plan for getting out?" Good, he had enough energy to argue.
"Give me some slack, this my first time at this." My eyes drifted over to Ben.
"Don't worry about taking him. Father Darien dragged him to the girls' cage and had this scraggly dude chew his throat out." I took a closer look at him. I gulped at the size of the hole in his throat. Images of what Harold looked like afterward came flooding back. Sven stepped over the corpse and out of the cage. He looked over the group of us, then asked the one question I hoped not to answer. "Where's Sylvia?"
My eyes drifted off to somewhere other than his. It was hard enough for me to see it myself, I didn't want to have to explain it to him now. He read my expression just like Nadia. "Sylvia's dead," was all I could say. "I found her in the freezer, stuffed in a burlap back, hanging next to the pigs and cow halves."
He took the news better than I thought he would. His lower lips trembled, tears welled in his eyes, but other than that he didn't seem to respond at all. And that's what scared me. He didn't say a word. Instead, my half brother looked towards the open door and started walking. I motioned for the two oversized men to follow us out of here. Rupert picked up the other two guys and trailed behind us.
The whole time we were in the tunnel no one still conscious said a word. I didn't have the heart to say anything more; Amber was in too much pain to hardly even breathe; Sven decided to shut down to block out his own pain. The walk back up this bizarre hallway seemed to take a lot longer than when I came down, and not because we were going uphill. Every step was heavy with sorrow and trepidation. We were now minus at least two friends. I could only hope that our last one was still alive when we got back home.
I kicked open the door at the top of the hallway. I stepped confidently into the open. I scanned the room visually and mentally. Nothing. Something wasn't right about any of this. The lack of a response had me feeling a little out of place holding a two hundred year old torch in the middle of a modern kitchen. I looked back towards the rest of the group and motioned for them to follow me.
"Welcome to Coven Darien's," that asshole said in my head. I looked around to see if he was just fucking with me. Sven's face blanched. He was staring out into the dining area, his breath coming in heavy pants. I stepped up to the window in the door. There he was, dressed in his usual fine outfit and ready to run his business. He looked right at me and said, "Please, make yourselves comfortable."
"We just want to get out of here," I said, walking through the door.
"Is that why my entire bar stock has been splashed around the room?" He looked around confused by something.
"Insurance," I said simply. "We all walk out of here, you get to keep your beloved business."
He gave a throaty chuckle. "Clever girl." He clapped his hands in a mock applause. "It's not easy to outsmart me. I am curious, however. How did you manage to slip in here completely unheard and empty my bar onto the restaurant?"
I shrugged. "Hell if I know. Maybe old age is catching up to you."
He laughed again. "Good one, little morsel. You've been as much of a pain in my ass as you were my most delightful toy. Maybe you could teach the little blond there how to play a better game." He took a menacing step forward. My grip on the torch and mace tightened. "She truly is a pour sport." I felt Amber's aura shift. "You wouldn't believe how easily she gives herself up to her opponent, faster even than my beloved Nadia."
Fire burned in my eyes. My heart started beating erratically. "Shut up, little bleeder. You don't love Nadia. You don't love anyone but yourself."
"That's not true," he said as if I just told on him to the teacher. "That really hurts, little morsel. You have no idea how much love I have for those in my coven, and the pains I've gone through to ensure everyone's survival."
That made me laugh. I pointed the torch at him and said, "You're funny."
He opened his posture. "Enlighten me."
"God damn, where do I begin? First of all, you're a fucking sadist. You think that everyone and everything in this town is your personal plaything. You delight in the pain and suffering of others--hell you get off on it--the pain of those closest to you, actually. You said once that you loved Nadia as a daughter, then as a lover... where I come from, we call that a redneck-hillbilly-inbred-som'bitch. You're pathetic; a sorry excuse of a vampire and en even worse excuse of a man." I could tell that I hit a nerve several times over, but for some reason he remained on the other side of the room--he's usually beating the shit out of me right about now. "As much as I hate you and everything you stand for, there's a small part of me that pities you. I feel sorry for you; no one in this city cares about you, you have no true friends, only those too afraid to stand up for themselves. You're nothing more than a bully with a God-complex."
"Impressive speech, little morsel," the Father said with great disdain, "But through it all you know nothing about which you speak. You think the people in this town owe me no favors? You think that all of them blindly obey my every word out of fear of me? You've done nothing but prove your ignorance and unfounded hatred."
My mouth hung open. "'Unfounded hatred'?" I stepped aside to let everyone else get around me. "You think my hatred of your is unfounded? And you have the balls to call me ignorant." He just gave me a little-boy-lost look, which only pissed me off even more. "Since day one you've made my life a living hell. Just look at what you did to my friends. I have more reason to hate you than anyone."
"AS I YOU!" Father Darien shouted, making the whole room shake. All of us moved away from him. "People talk, little morsel. Ever since your birth my status has been put into question. My family's standing was ruined the day that whore gave birth to you."
That stung more than it should have. In light of recent events, I saw my mother in a different light, but that was still my mom he was talking about. "Thanks for the heads up, dad." I put a good emphasis on that last word.
He paused. "Did you...? You think that...?" He broke out into a hysterical laughter. I looked to the others, but the ones that could just shrugged their shoulders. I turned back to the Father, who had his arms wrapped around his middle. "Oh my God, that's rich! You're too much!" He nearly doubled over, which was beginning to piss me off. "Thank you. I haven't laughed that hard in a long time."
"I'll bite. What gives?"
"You're not my daughter." I must have looked like a deer in the headlights. "You're my sister." He reveled in the shift of emotion in the room. "You think I would sully my family's name and willingly impregnate a whore at a party? That notion would be offensive if it came from anyone else, but from the likes of you it's hysterical. I would never dirty myself in such a way."
I didn't know what to say. All I could think of was, "Liar!"
"Don't you dare impede my integrity!" his voice boomed. "I do a lot of things, but I never lie about my family's pride."
My legs felt weak. Sven looked at me with pleading eyes--he hoped it was all a lie too. I leaned against the bar, using it like a crutch so I wouldn't fall over and drop the torch. "Is that why you've been trying to kill me?"
He gave me an askance glare. "Yes," he answered bluntly. "Ever since you were born, I heard the whispers of the renegades, the fears of my own coven. Never before in this city, or for the last century-and-a-half, had a child been born of a master vampire and a human. This whole city was in a state of unrest." He started approaching me, moving slowly as if he was getting ready to strike. "I would come by your house to see if your abilities and condition would ever manifest. I would ask your mother if she told you about anything. And very visit I was met with disappointment. I couldn't in good conscious kill you if you were as ignorant as all the other humans." That earned a chuckle from the peanut gallery. "So I enlisted Nadia to--how shall I say this--push you into our world, and to my delight she complied; however, to my disbelief, she failed to kill you herself. When she began stalking you, she would beg for me to find someone else. She told me stories of how righteous and lovely you were. She went so far as to confess her love for you to me."
That brought a tear to my eye. She's told me this herself, but to hear him say it meant so much more. I knew how much it ate at him to say something like that.
"Don't think ill of me child for teaching both of you your station. Nadia was on the crust of mastering her abilities. She had to be taught that even still she serves me. I couldn't let our father believe that you were more to him than I was. That I am." By the time he was finished, he was just out of arms length.
"So you decided to have me killed over some stupid, petty jealousy complex?" I sneered.
"Petty? Nothing about this is petty, little Charlene. You still don't get it do you?"
"I guess not."
"I am the last hope for my family's ascension back to power. The family is of royal blood. I was not about to let some daughter of a whore ruin everything I spent my life building." I could see the flame of the torch reflected in his blackened eyes.
"I was wrong. You don't have a God-complex; you have Cain and Able syndrome. That's even more pathetic." I started laughing, just like he did not five minutes ago.
"This is no laughing matter, morsel," he hissed. "I don't like the idea of killing you in my own building, but I will if I must." I just kept laughing as though he didn't say anything. He slapped me over the bar, a look of pure disgust covered his face. "Stop laughing! This is not funny!"
"You're right," I managed to get out somehow. "THIS isn't funny; YOU are! Oh my fucking God. You want to kill me over something as pathetic as family pride when I am your family, in yet you can't see how much the people around you hate your guts. I don't pathetic is a low enough word for the likes of you."
Before another breath left my body, Father Darien grabbed my throat and lifted me to my feet. He looked me over with more anger and hatred than I felt for him. His lips were pulled back and he hissed and growled as if it would scare me. I was still smiling in spite of it all, pissing him off even more. The edges around my vision turned grey, then began to fade.
He threw me over the bar. Before I rolled down the wall, he was on top of me. I choked and gasped for air. He ran one of his claws down the curve of my jaw, sending a bolt of electricity to my groin. Shit. I could smell the pheromones he pumped out. "I'm going to kill you slow, and all of your friends are going to watch."
Fuck, my pussy was getting wet. His sharp talon sliced through my skin just deep enough to not bleed from it. The cut burning with every breath I took. And they started coming in pants. This was beyond not right. I had to fight through it. I focused all of my mind into blocking out the sensations coursing through my body. I had to drive him out, I had to find a way out of this for everyone. I searched to a way, but kept hitting walls. The cut started to burn from the overwhelming itching sensation of his hot breath against it. So be it.
Using all the strength I had left in my body, I tossed the torch onto the bench furthest from me. In less than a second, the fire spread from that spot to over the next booth. Now I'm glad he used top shelf booze. Before he knew what was happening, the flames ignited the alcohol on the next booth.
"NO!" Father Darien shout, dropping me completely. "NO!" I struggled to get upright. My legs forgot how to work. The next thing I knew, he kicked me in my ribcage and sent me into the booth and Sven's lap. The demon looked like he wanted to say something, but all that came out was a noise befitting of his nature.
"Don't touch her," Nadia murmured. With those three words, everything except the fire stopped. She pulled her head from the floor and glared at her tormentor. "Don't touch her."
He seemed a little too happy to oblige her. My vampire slowly got to her feet, using whatever she could find as a crutch. "Ah Nadia, you defy me, truly defy me at last." My gut suddenly tightened. This was not good. In her state, she didn't stand a chance. "Now, you will pay for your crimes against me." He stalked closer to her; Nadia held her ground despite the fact she knew would lose.
I sprang up from m own stupor. I pulled out the dagger and stabbed Father Darien in the back. I knew it hurt him, but he acted like it just a bug bite. He spun around and punched me in the gut, then in the face. I reached out to my vampire, the way only I could. "Bite her," I told her. Father Darien grabbed me by my hair and pulled me to my feet. He didn't care that everyone else left to escape the flames. He had what he wanted.
I started laughing again.
"What the fuck are you laughing at?" he yelled.
"You still don't get it, do you?" I asked, repeating his earlier question. "Nadia doesn't cove you, she loves me. She's not afraid of you anymore."
He followed my gaze behind him. "NO!" Nadia was neck deep in Tiffany. She willingly gave herself up to her; I could tell by her lack of struggle. It was the first time since we've been together that she bit someone else. I could feel it eating at her, but survival is an ugly thing. I knew she felt like she did when he found her--like a mindless monster feeding on the bleeders.
Nadia leapt away from her limp body at the same time Father Darien dropped me. My head was still dizzy from the blow to the head, which made it harder for me to follow their movements, but that didn't matter right now. Nadia could handle herself for the time being. I had to somehow get Tiffany out of here. Weird that the reason I was relieved was the same reason I had to drag her out of here--she was breathing. I grabbed an arm and tugged. I didn't bother to look over at the source of the crashes all around me, the only thing I had to focus on was getting my best friend the hell out of here.
Over what seemed like ten minutes, I managed to get her out of the building. I had to will my muscles to not give up; I was not only struggling with nearly-dead weight, but the elements as well, and I still had a flight of stairs to go up. The soft rain from earlier was now a steady downpour. The coldness of the air made each raindrop feel like a tiny needle poking into my skin. I shivered almost instantaneously, jaw started clanking. I knew Amber and Sven had to be freezing; I was. One by one, I dragged Tiffany up the steps. Sven took over when there was only two left to go. Typical.
A masculine hissing pulled my attention back to the door. "Charlie, don't." He grabbed my arm too. "Come on, let's get the fuck out of here."
"Not without Nadia," I retorted. Before he could say anything else, I headed back down. I heard my brother say something about how stupid I was being. I ignored him completely and fell through the door.
Father Darien had her in a death grip. His hands were positioned in such a way that if he extend his claws, he would stab through every major artery and vein in her neck. I used the fire to my full advantage. The smoke muffled my olfactory signal, the cackling of the burning wood helped disguise my steps. I covered my mouth to keep from suffocating. His back was to me, but that on;y afforded me so much. I pulled two of the knives from my boots and made my way to them.
The knife I stuck in him earlier was still in his back. I took another step, careful as to not get too close. She saw me approaching. I my eyes conveyed a silent apology for what was about to happen. The edge of her lip curled up in an acknowledging smile. A support beam just before us was about to give out. I had to time this just right; I counted down the seconds.
One. The beam creaked. My pulse quickened.
Two. I took a deep, steady breath.
Three. I leapt up and kicked the hilt deep into his back.
He fell forward with Nadia still in his clutches. She squealed when he pierced her skin. My back hit the floor. I looked up at the beam. It did gave slightly. Fuck. I got up and scrambled over to them. I had the knives in my hands ready to cut his freaking head off. I readied the blades. Suddenly, the large beam came crashing down on top of both of them.
My heart sank. "Nadia!" I hopped over the burning lumber and grabbed her hand. She squeezed it back. She was still awake. "Come on, let's get the hell out of here!" I pulled on her, she pushed on the beam. Father Darien lay limp on the floor. I didn't know if he dead or alive, and I really didn't care at the moment. All that mattered was getting my vampire out of this inferno.
I heard several of her bones crack. I knew something in her legs was broken, I just wasn't sure exactly what. It's not like I had time to stop and ask. Just as her other foot got free, we heard the demon cough.
"You think you've solved anything? You think I'm the evil one? You haven't seen anything yet."
I grabbed Nadia into my arms and ushered her out. We dodged falling debris, stepped over lakes of flames, the whole time ignoring Father Darien's insidious laughter.
I threw her out of the door and slammed the door shut. Nadia bounced off the stairwell and started coughing uncontrollably. I wrapped her arm around my neck and carried her up the stairs. She collapsed as we got to the top.
"Nadia, come on, we can't stop yet," I said looking for everyone else. She didn't say anything. "Nadia." I looked down at her. I don't know how I missed it before. There was a huge gash across her throat. Blood poured out of her, her body quivered from the cold. My face went pale. I knelt down and cradled her head. A tear threatened to escape. "Nadia, get up, honey." I shook her as though it might do some good.
Her lips formed a word I couldn't hear.
"Nadia, get up, please. It's time to go home. Nadia, I need you. Please, get up." I couldn't hold back any longer. My sobs and tears became a full blown outburst. "I love you. I love you. Do you hear me, I love you. I love you..." Suddenly, my body gave out. I saw shapes in the street lamps. They looked like angels coming to take us away from this awful place. My vision was going dark, until suddenly there was nothing but darkness and cold all around us.
This is not a love story, but it is a story about love. It was love that brought us together and kept us together. It was love that saved us when we needed it most. Out of love I went through hell to get back to ones I cared about most. I pulled them through the inferno and held the one I love most in my arms as she bled her life away. And it was out of love that someone happened upon us and saved her life.
Nadia stirred on the bed downstairs. She'd been out cold for the last week. I sat beside her, the same place I've been for the last week, and stroked her beautiful hair. Her slight movement almost scared me--it's the most I've seen her do this whole time. A bright smile spread on my lips. She cooed at my touch. I watched her eyes blink open.
"Welcome home, sweetie," I said softly.
She made to talk, but quickly changed her mind. She felt her neck and touched the bandage that Sven placed there. Nadia gave me a look that begged for an explanation. In lieu of that, I leaned down and kissed her fully. I stroked her cheek and rubbed her ear.
"That was nice," she said, her voice hoarse and dry. "What happened?"
"You left me," I said, the memory of it making my voice crack. "So I brought you back." We shared a lovely moment of just looking into each other's eyes. "Hungry?"
She nodded. I pulled her up to me. Her beautiful teeth sunk into my shoulder. I felt her lips sucking against my skin, her tongue lapped at my twin openings. I let out a heavy breath. My nipples hardened beneath my sheer nightgown. I felt my pussy dampen, begin for attention. As my vampire fed I reached between my legs and started playing with myself. As if on cue, Nadia grabbed my wrist. She threw my hand away and replaced it with her own. She slipped a single digit into me. And I almost came right there. She maneuvered it carefully, somehow avoiding all of my good spots.
She kept fingering me as her teeth left my shoulder. Using her other hand, she opened my legs wider. Another finger slipped inside. Her thumb rubbed my outer lips, teasing me just far enough to not cum. I didn't know how much more I could take. My hands squeezed my tits through the delicate fabric. I opened my eyes to meet hers--lustful and wanting. I grabbed her chin and brought her to my mouth. I've never tasted my own blood before, but I didn't care what would happen.
I licked all around her mouth, starting with her lips until it was in her mouth, battling with her own. I shoved her back. I felt the loss of her inside me, but that won't be too long. I didn't want to waste too much time with the foreplay. I knew she wanted me, because I wanted her. I mounted her with my pussy directly over her face. She grabbed my legs and buried her face into me. My body subconsciously started grinding against her tongue. Two of my fingers were fucking her, I felt her moaning against my vulva. Using my free hand, I grabbed her hair and pulled her mouth away from me. In one swift motion, I spun around and buried my face into her beautiful snatch.
I love it when she digs her nails into my ass to get her tongue as deep inside of me as humanly possible. My tongue flicked over her clit like the horny bitch I am. I put her two favorite fingers back into her. It wouldn't be too much longer before we were both covered in each other's cum. I was close enough already. I bit and gnawed against her sensitive bud, fucking her with my fingers. The louder I moaned against her, the harder her tongue slipped back into me. Through the fabric of my gown, my nipples danced against her belly. It was too much.
With one last lunge, my pussy erupted like only Nadia can make me. Her hand reached between us to rub my clit, teasing all the cum out of me. I heard it splash against her chest. She moaned out, pressing her hand harder against me. I fucked into her one last time, and pulled out when the power of her orgasm forced them out. Her hot stream hit my cheek, which only caused me to cum again. I rubbed another one out of her as hard and fast as I could.
I couldn't hold myself up anymore. I rolled over and collapsed. My vampire, my lover, glistened in the moonlight, my cum shining off her skin. She kissed my wet cheek and stroked my hair. I was about to fall asleep when she asked, "Would you like to take a bath with me?"
Like I would ever refuse that. There was still plenty of questions that needed answering, but they could wait 'til tomorrow.
Thank you for reading Abandoned Blood. Even after everything I've been through, I can't believe how big this story became. There may be a sequel. I haven't decided yet. It all depends on what I get in response to this last installment. Before any of you ask, yes, I intentionally left it open to a sequel should the demand be high enough. Either way, I would like to thank each and every one of you who not only read this story, but wrote in to share with me you comments and suggestions.
If you'd like to see some of my other works on this site, I have two other stories on here. Loving A Shadow (lesbian/high school) and Silent Cellist (lesbian/sci-fi). I look forward to writing more tales for all of you to enjoy.
Take care of yourselves.