The sun had nearly risen when a loud pounding
came at Paul’s door. Paul had just settled down to begin his daily rest, but he
had not yet surrendered to the Daysleep. He bolted to his feet and came to the
door.
He quickly unlocked it as the pounding
desperately continued. He pulled the door open to find Kathleen outside, tears
streaming down her face. She was naked, wrapped in a bed sheet, and immediately
began babbling almost incoherently.
“Get in here. We have mere minutes before the
sun rises and sleep takes us.” Paul insisted, grabbing her by the wrist and
dragging her inside. He pulled her quickly across the apartment, back to his
bedroom, the only room impervious to sunlight.
Once inside, he realized he’d dragged her so
forcefully that the sheet she had used to cover herself had gotten left behind
somewhere in the apartment. He stared for a moment as she tried to cover
herself. Realizing how he was making her more uncomfortable, he broke off his
stare and went over to his closet.
“Here.” He grabbed a large t-shirt from his
dresser and tossed it to her. A pair of sweatpants followed. “Put those on.”
She got dressed, her motions lethargic as he tried not to watch, keeping her
just in the corner of his eye. Paul made for the door and closed it, sealing
them in for the day.
“What happened?” Paul asked, feeling the tug of
Daysleep on his senses.
“I...” She never finished her sentence as sleep
took her. Paul went to her side, picked her up and laid her on his bed. His own
resolve fading, he lay down next to her and let oblivion take him.
---
When the sun set the next night, Paul stirred
from sleep. He immediately sensed the presence of another and jumped to his
feet. He’d forgotten Kathleen was there and when he saw her, he calmed himself
again. Her eyes fluttered open and she looked at him.
“I go from the bed of one man to another.” she
commented, her voice full of regret.
The fog of sleep cleared more fully from Paul’s
mind. He sat back on bed, kneeling next to Kathleen on top of the mattress.
“What happened last night?”
“He took me.” Kathleen admitted. “Or maybe he
didn’t. I don’t know.”
“He? Michael?”
“No, well, yes, but that came later. That’s not
what I mean. Ernie. He summoned me outside. I went. Everything else after that
is kinda foggy.”
Paul flinched as if struck. His memory burned
with blazing eyes and searing pain in his mind. “I saw him.” He admitted.
“He...attacked me somehow. Do you remember what happened after you met with
him?”
“It all seems a dream. I went to Michael’s apartment,
waited outside. He came home. I went in after him. We talked. He’s quite
charming. Handsome. But he’s also kind once you get to know him. I kissed him.
I...we then...”
“Did you do it or did Ernie make you do it?”
“I don’t know.” she said. “I think I wanted it.
But...it all happened so fast. I was in his bed. We were...”
“He didn’t force you, did he? Michael, that is.
“No. Ernie? Maybe. Paul, I wanted it. I wanted
to be touched like that. I wanted to know what that's like. I wanted Michael to take me like he does all those
other women. But I think Ernie wants that too and I can’t tell where I stop and
he begins. I’m so confused. I don’t even know my own feelings. My own mind. I’m
frightened.”
“Nothing will hurt you here.” said Paul
reassuringly. He leaned over and pulled her into his arms, half expecting her
to pull away. She didn’t.
---
Michael awoke that night to an empty bed.
He’d long forgotten what that felt like. In Blacksburg
But tonight there was no one. He awoke alone.
He stood up and shook the last of Daysleep from
his body. He stepped out into the hallway. His apartment was very similar in
layout to Paul’s downstairs with one notable exception: his was three bedroom
as opposed to Paul’s two. Like Paul, he had reserved one of the rooms as
office/computer space. The third bedroom was Julia’s.
All the rooms were shuttered to prevent sunlight
from entering, even the one dedicated as an office. Michael opened the door to
that room and the mystery of where Sarah had slept was immediately solved. She
was standing next to the bed, having just awoken herself from sleep.
She was, as she always was when sleeping, nude.
Michael drank her in, starting from her feet and moving up. Pale, slender,
tiny, her skin marked by her tattoos and piercings. Her shaved nethers, her
flat stomach with its cute little navel (also pierced), her tiny breasts.
Everything about her was magnificent to him. Except, tonight, her face.
Her face was still beyond beautiful, but it was
contorted in a look of pure fury. Her amber eyes were as hateful as he had ever
seen them. Her mouth flat and grim. The muscles of her cheeks and jaw firm and
hard in rage. Her eyebrows were angled downward so sharply he might have
thought her a Vulcan from Star Trek. He opened his mouth to say something to
her, but then surrendered to her unspoken command: “Do not talk to me.”
He retreated from the room, closing the door
behind him. He took two more steps down the hallway toward the living room and
stopped at Julia’s door. He opened it without knocking.
He found Julia in a similar state of undress,
although, unlike Sarah, she had not yet stirred out of bed. She was lying
there, her legs spread open. Michael was certain that was deliberate, an
invitation for him to do to her what she desired most: Play with her, use her,
penetrate her, fuck her.
It was the thrall-bond at work and for the first
time, Michael felt a deep twinge of regret at having inflicted it upon her. At
the time, he felt he had no choice. It was bind her or kill her and he needed
her knowledge to fend off his newest enemies, her hunter allies. But it was
years later now and the threat of those times had long since abated. He’d used
her as a passable bodyguard, enjoyed her body when it suited him, but had
really (as she had complained not too many weeks earlier) largely ignored her.
And her heart’s every desire was to please and
pleasure him. What a nightmare she must endure every night.
“I’m sorry.” he admitted aloud to her. Julia sat
up, a look of confusion on her face.
“Why apologize to me? I don’t...”
“It seems I owe a lot of them.” He continued,
interrupting her reply. “You among many others. Friends, allies, taken for
granted. Used for my own selfish purposes. If I hadn’t bound you to me, you
might have found some measure of happiness as kindred. But as it stands...” He
shook his head and muttered another apology as he walked away.
He headed out to the kitchen and poured himself
a Captain & Coke. There was a rapping on the door and Michael moved to open
it. Paul walked inside.
“I am pleased to see that one of us came through
last night without too much damage.” Michael commented grimly, his regret
easily seeping into his tone of voice. “Last I saw you, you were a crumpled
heap on the parking lot.”
“I have a very distraught young woman in my
apartment right now.” said Paul. His tone, by contrast, was cold and angry.
“Damn Ernie to hell.” growled Michael to no one
in particular. It was almost as if Paul wasn’t even there. “This is precisely
what he wants. Chaos in our ranks and me consumed with doubt and humiliation.”
“You fucked her.” Paul spat the words at
Michael, clearly regarding Michael’s comments as woefully inadequate.
“You make it sound so vulgar.” Michael replied
defensively. “It was nothing like that. I wanted to help her, give her a sense
of her worth and value. A sense of her own beauty, something beyond the
physical. She asked for it. She wanted it. I discovered later though I’d been
tricked. Ernie was toying with her, using her to get to me. I feel like such a
fool.”
“If you’d keep it in your pants once in a
while...”
Had Michael been more rational, he might have
agreed with that, but at the moment he was slave to his dark emotions and
impulsively fired back. “From Solomon to Dylan to you, what is it with you
Gangrel and your righteous indignation?” he retorted angrily. “I will not be
judged by the likes of you. Yes, I was stupid. I made a mistake, but it wasn’t
my lust that birthed it. Not this time. It was my sympathy. We’re a lot alike
in that regard, Paul, even if you don’t want to admit it. Yes, I do care about
people. I felt sorry for her and I wanted to help.
“The real reason you’re angry is because you
realize it could have been you. It should have been you. Petty jealousy nothing
more.”
“You arrogant son-of-a-bitch.” Paul growled. “I
don’t take advantage of people in need.”
“Oh, please. Don’t insult my intelligence. If
she’d asked you, would you truly have said no?”
Paul stepped forward, getting right into
Michael’s face. “Yes, I would have. Because she deserves better than that and
I’m at least strong enough to see it.” With that, he turned and stormed out of
the room.
---
Michael followed him out a few minutes later,
long enough to get dressed and little more. He didn’t even finish the drink
he’d poured himself; he just left it on the kitchen counter. He wandered out
the door of the apartment building, across the parking lot, and out onto the
streets of Conshohocken.
He had no destination in mind. He just wandered,
quickly becoming as geographically lost as he felt spiritually lost.
Michael’s thoughts began to dwell on something
he’d not thought about in a long time. He thought about how becoming a vampire
truly was a curse. But unlike the angst of his first few nights among the
kindred, his thoughts now were different. More nuanced. More experienced. More
knowledgeable.
It was too easy.
Michael had really only ever wanted one thing in
life: He wanted to be desired. And then Deborah came along and gave him that
very thing. She made him a Daeva.
He long remembered her lessons about the
different vampire clans. Each had their strengths and weaknesses. Each vampire
of a clan held certain things in common with every other member of that clan.
Each Clan had their tool, their weapon, to get the precious blood every vampire
craved. The Gangrel were feral brutish hunters. The Nosferatu horrifying
monsters. The Venture domineering overlords. The Mekhet, shadowy and conniving.
And there were the Daeva, seductive beyond measure.
It was too easy.
Michael had gone from being an outcast nerd,
awkward, shy, and lonely to the life of the party virtually overnight. When he
walked into a room, every head turned. Dicks got hard, pussies got wet, all
from a smile and a few words. And he reveled in it.
But the Daeva weren’t the only vampires who were
sexual. For most, sex was just as much a part of life as it was for mortals. It
was something you enjoyed. It was something you shared with people you loved.
Michael remembered Thomas Calderon, Max’s oft-rebellious childe in Tidewater.
He had fled during Max’s ascension with his lover. As grotesque as Nosferatu
were, even those two had slept together and there was nothing odd or unusual
about that. They loved one another.
Love. Only after it was too late did Michael
realize that was really what he wanted. He found it too. He found it with
outcasts and oddballs like he had once been. He found it with Deborah, his
sire, so achingly beautiful she was seemingly almost untouchable. He found it
with Kris Keller, whose hairy hippie affectations made her awkward among her
more clean cut classmates at Tech. He found it with Leigh Tyler, the overweight
teenage mother working for poverty wages at a bar. He found it with Sarah, an
adult woman with adult desires trapped within a facade of extreme youth. In
some ways, he’d even found it with Sammy, far too aggressive and too sexual for
these times and this culture. And, of course, Rebecca, wounded as she was by
unimaginable family tragedy. Each one of them were well beyond the pale of
polite normal ordinary society. Every one of them precious in their own way to
him.
Kathleen, Michael wondered, could easily join
that list. Socially inept, inexperienced, shy, and absolutely adorable for it.
Like he had with so many others, he could look past the oddity of her physical
attributes; Most of the other women on his list were not pretty or sexy as
society would have defined it. He could easily fall in love with her and he
knew it.
But as much as he loved or might love any and
all of them, his being Daeva was a curse upon them all. The Masquerade had to
be upheld and protected above all else, so his mortal loves had to be bound so
they’d keep silent, replacing any genuine affection with the inviolable
artificial desires of the blood. His kindred loves had to put up with his constant
infidelity. There was much they would tolerate; After all, they understood sex
was the weapon of his clan, the means by which he hunted for blood. But there
were always uncrossable lines, points of no return he seemed to perpetually
blunder into.
And all of them, mortal and kindred, had to deal
with the unending politicking and maneuvering of the vampires’ Danse Macabre,
the nightly struggle for dominance and control. Michael had fought for power
ostensibly to protect those he loved, only to have enemies far stronger than he
unerringly remind him of how poorly he did that. How many had been ripped from
his arms by their schemes? How many had died?
Being a Daeva, being a vampire, was the biggest
thing between him and what he truly wanted. What his soul truly hungered for.
Sex came easy, too easy for someone starving for something more real and
lasting. Now it had come back to bite him. Everyone in the world wanted to fuck
him. Everyone, that is, but the woman he loved and desired most.
Cursed.
So consumed by his thoughts that Michael utterly
failed to notice the hordes of small costumed children who kept passing him on
the street until the enormity of their numbers finally registered. It was
Halloween and the trick-or-treaters were out in force.
He then realized that a man walking alone among
hundreds of small vulnerable children probably looked too suspicious for his
own good. But, by now, he had no clue where he was or how far he’d walked in
his emotional daze. He kept going until he reached an intersection. He looked
up and read the names of the streets from the sign: Church Street Stead Street
Now why did that sound familiar to him? Oh, he
was not far from where the party had been held the night before. He also
realized he was not very far away from where Mia had told him she lived. In
fact, he guessed, he’d probably passed by her house in his distracted
wanderings.
He turned around and headed back down Church Street
It was too easy.
The revelation came to him again, almost like an
accusation in his own mind. After all, what had happened at the party? It was
less than 30 minutes from when he’d rescued Mia from the bullies to when he was
thrusting inside of her inside that treehouse. Just a brief conversation, less
than half an hour of talking and dancing, and they were doing the most intimate
act two people could share with one another.
Too easy.
And, of course, if he found her tonight it would
probably be even less time before he had her clothes on the floor and his dick
inside of her. Was that really what he wanted? He was not hungry; He’d fed
plenty from her the night before. He had no need to seduce her or anyone
tonight.
But, yes, he answered himself, it was what he
wanted. And that too was part of the problem. It was too easy and that fed into
his other great character flaw, the one Boar had pointed out the night before.
He was impulsive, quick to seek his immediate desires with no thought to the
long term or the consequences.
And the impulse in him now was to find Mia and
fuck her until he forgot about all this other shit.
It was in that moment that he realized the house
was completely dark. To all appearances, there was no one home. He willed the
blood to wrap the shadows about him and he wandered around the house through
the yard. He’d hoped to figure out which bedroom window might be Mia’s, but all
he learned was that there was not a single light on in the whole house. They
were not home.
He could probably summon her. Use the power of
his magnetic charisma to draw her to him, but that might prove awkward if she
was with family or friends who’d undoubtedly inquire as to why she was leaving
so suddenly and so urgently. Too much a risk to the Masquerade.
After spending the last few hours dwelling on
how easy sex came to him, Michael could not help a bitter laugh to find himself
denied at that moment. He moved back out into the open and that was when he saw
her.
Not Mia. The other girl. The blonde mermaid that
Mitch had scored last night. She was walking down the street towards him, a bag
of groceries in her hand. It seemed an odd sight in this wholly residential
neighborhood. He’d not passed a grocery store or a convenience store anywhere
that he remembered, but then again he might have been too self-absorbed to
notice.
She saw him and gave him a weak smile, more
focused on the task of walking to whatever destination to really notice him. He
then spoke. “You look a lot warmer in that outfit than in your costume last
night.”
That gave her pause. She stopped and took a
moment and then recognized him. “Oh, this is a surprise.” she said with
astonishment. “You’re Michael. Mitch’s friend from last night.”
“Yeah.”
“What are you doing out here?”
He shrugged. “Out for a walk.”
“On Halloween?”
“Good night for a walk. You get to see all kinds
of things you might not otherwise. Crazy decorations. Wild costumes. If you’re
clever and maybe a bit dishonest, you can score some candy to boot.”
She chuckled at that. “I’m Amy, by the way.”
He knew that. Mitch had told them a great deal
about his tryst with her on the ride home; her name was the least of what he’d
shared. Obviously, he’d also spoken about Michael with her, probably because it
was Michael she was originally after.
The fact that he’d “gotten away” was clearly on
her mind. She gained a sly look on her face. “So, I ended up with him last
night.” she admitted openly. “But you were the one I wanted.”
Too easy.
---
Sarah waited in her room until she knew Michael
had left. She hated the way he’d barged into her bedroom (although she had to
admit she had not been completely forthcoming about informing him of the change
in their sleeping arrangement). She hated the way he’d leered at her. She hated
what he’d done with Kathleen. She hated how he blamed her for Mitch, how he
didn’t understand what having the hallucinations and voices was like. Nor did
it seem that he wanted to. She hated everything about him right now and that
hurt like hell.
She got dressed and fetched the SEPTA bus
schedule from the computer table. She quickly checked it, making sure the
routes to Villanova’s campus would still be open and that she’d not missed a
pick-up by waiting for Michael’s departure. She had not, so she headed out to
the bus stop. It was Halloween, a largely secular holiday in modern practice.
But it was also many other things. For traditional Christians like Roman
Catholics, it was the Eve of All Saints. For pagans like herself, it was the
Celtic Sabbat of Samhain. Sarah hoped she might find a few like-minded souls on
a university campus with whom she could worship, pray, mingle, and maybe forget
a bit of her aching heart.
The bus was not exactly the quickest way to get
to campus, but it landed her there well before the night got too late. She made
a beeline for the nearest campus building. Like most university buildings, it
was still unlocked and open, even if largely empty at this late hour. Just
inside the door was a large bulletin board, plastered with flyers and
announcements for various campus activities. Among them she found a flyer for
the Halloween party Michael and his buddies had gone to the night before, but
what she was really after took a little longer to find. But there it was: The
Neo-Pagan Society of Villanova’s announcement about a Samhain worship and
meet-and-greet near campus.
“Near campus” was because it was held in a copse
of trees on the south side the Rt. 30, at the boundary between the campus and
the town. According to the flyer, it was to start at 10pm. Sarah checked her
watch. It was 10:05.
She quickly made her way south the several
blocks to get to her destination. Fortunately for her, the rites were not
scheduled to begin until midnight. The meet-and-greet however was in full swing
when she arrived. The crowd was not large, which was not a surprise to her. Nor
was it’s make-up. These sorts of events drew essentially four kinds of people.
The first group was her own, the true believers.
Those who had practiced Wicca, Neo-Norse, or some other pagan faith in these
modern times and had done so for many years. The second group were the
dabblers, curious souls whose intentions were genuine. They wanted to learn
what the pagan faiths were about and maybe become a part of it. The third group
were the rebellious ones, those who lingered about events like this for no
other reason that to have something else with which to shock parents,
preachers, and conventional society. “Hey, Mom, look at me. I’m a witch now.”
The final group were the horn-dogs, those looking to score with a pagan Goth.
They believed than any group of religions that rejected Christian norms and
occasionally practiced their rites in the nude was surely full of willing and
eager sluts to bang.
Sarah, of course, had very little respect for
the latter two groups, but they were also the very first to approach her at the
meet-and-greet. The rebellious trying to prove their cred to her with their
amateur knowledge of spells and rites and the horn-dogs just outright hitting
on her.
She spent the better part of a half-hour trying
to get free of one insipid blonde who fancied Sarah’s tattoos (and her own) and
kept droning on about her level of success with healing and love spells. She
got loose of her only to end up in the attentions of a half-drunk punk who
didn’t know a damn thing about anything pagan other than the fact that “Pagan
chicks are hot.” Finally, she found a group of true believers who had all
banded together out of solidarity with one another.
“I hate events like this.” one of them admitted.
“Then why hold them?” Sarah inquired in
response.
“Because the Wiccan priest wants to make sure
all the students on campus know who we are and that we’re here for the curious
and the devout. Problem is, outside of you, I don’t think we’ve gotten a single
truly devout person since last year. Just drunken assholes who think our faith
is about sex and nothing else.”
“Is he here? I’d like to meet him.” Sarah asked.
“And supplant him.” She finished in her own mind. Yes, there were annoyances
here, but this was also a good place to start things anew, to rebuild again
what she had in Tidewater with her coven.
“He should be here soon. He’s a professor on
campus. Dr. Emmanuel Noble.”
“Cool.” Sarah let the rest of conversation pass
by absent-mindedly. She didn’t wait long. A middle-aged man with dark hair and
a mustache, wearing traditional Wicca robes, arrived after about ten minutes.
That must be Prof. Noble. He made his way through the crowd, greeting each of
the assembled with a charming smile and a word of encouragement. He answered
questions. No, their religions weren’t all the same, he admitted to one, but
they were bound by the ancient origins of their beliefs and their need for
solidarity against the Christian majority.
He made his way over to Sarah. He shook her hand
vigorously, welcomed her, and introduced himself. His eyes lingered on her
uncomfortably for a long moment.
“You seem rather young.” he observed.
“I’m older than I look, probably older than most
of the people here.” she admitted. “The drawback of genetics, being born into a
family of short people.” That was, of course, a lie, but an easy and frequent
one for her. The Masquerade must be upheld and she needed an more plausible
explanation than the truth of “I was a twelve year old girl who got turned
into a vampire.”
“You should take him home and fuck him.” said
Michael.
Sarah shook her head. She knew Michael wasn’t
here, that had to be his hallucinatory doppelganger talking. Even if it had
been him, the last thing she was in the mood to do was anything he desired.
“You okay?” Noble asked. He’d noticed her odd
behavior.
“I’m fine. Thanks.”
Noble moved on to the next group of guests and
Sarah quickly made her way to the fringe of the crowd. “Come on. You know you want
to.” Michael said again. “Do it for me.”
“Stop it.” she muttered under her breath, hoping
no one would notice her talking to herself. “I’m not talking to you. Neither of
you.”
The faux Michael went silent, at least for the
moment. He wouldn’t be gone long. He would come back and he would pester her
until she gave into his demands. Of course, sometimes, maybe even most of the
time, she liked his suggestions. They were, she understood cognitively,
impulses from her subconscious mind and often reflected desires she was
unwilling or unable to express any other way. But she was not going to let him
win tonight. Besides, the last time she had caved, it had given the real
Michael plenty of ammo to attack and accuse her. Another reason she hated him.
She turned her attention back to Noble, who had
taken center stage in the group and was giving a prepared speech of welcome to
everyone there. She stared at him hard, using her vampiric powers to enter his
mind. She was suddenly taken aback by the immense power of his mind. He was no
ordinary mortal. Emmanuel Noble was a mage.
Sarah tried again, this time steeling herself
against the might of his awakened mind. So prepared and with him distracted by
his speech, she slipped inside and began sifting through his memories.
There was yet more about Dr. Noble that was not what it seemed. True believer
he was not, just a charlatan with an impressive knowledge of the rites and
history of many Neo-pagan traditions. He was faking it and he was good at it.
But then the images grew darker. Blood and
brutality. Violence and rape. The shock of these memories snapped Sarah back
into herself. Noble flinched and lost his place in his speech; he knew he’d
been invaded. But he was too smooth to make it look like anything other than a
momentary distraction. She tried a third time, only now his barriers were up.
Even with her impressive telepathic skills, she was not getting in again.
Of the four groups Sarah had been expecting at
the gathering, Sarah now remembered there was also a fifth: the stereotype.
This was what many if not most Christians and outsiders believed pagans to be:
devil worshippers and monsters. Noble was that type, an infernalist mage who
trafficked in dark powers. He was all charm and smiles, a true sociopath. No one
there suspected a damn thing. No one knew these recruitment efforts were a
front for him to seek out new victims for whatever diabolical scheme or spell
he might cast next.
She’d found the mage that Michael was looking
for, the true secret master of the university. And while Michael wanted to rid
the campus of him so he could take his place, Sarah found herself equally eager
to take this son-of-a-bitch out. Noble was nearly everything she abhorred all
wrapped up in one nice neat package. He was a fake and gave her faith and
beliefs a bad name. He was a predator who used the young men and women of this
campus as his prey. And no matter how angry and frustrated she was with Michael
at the moment, he was still the man she loved and Noble was standing in the way
of Michael’s goals.
Oh, and there was also the fact that he was in
charge of the Wiccan coven that Sarah desired for herself. Noble had to go. The
question was how.
And that question would have to wait because
Noble then invited all of them to join him in a prayer ritual. Sarah recognized
the rite, a Wicca Samhain prayer service that her own coven had used every fall
themselves. She knew every response and by rote fell right in with Noble as he
spoke the prayers for thanksgiving for the harvest, for the remembrance of the
dead, and for the coming winter. That did not go unnoticed.
Once worship was concluded, the crowd began to
break up. It was late and people were eager to get home to bed. Noble
approached her.
“You knew every word.” he commented. “You’re the
real deal. Not like the rest of these here.”
“I was an initiated priestess in a Gardnerian
coven in Chesapeake
“Fascinating. We need to talk further. Would
like to come by my office the day after tomorrow? I should be free after
7:00pm. I could use your help with the coven here.”
That felt like a trap, but it was the best shot
she was going to get. She nodded in response. “Sure.” she said. The risk would
be worth it. To take down this bastard would be worth just about anything.
---
It was close to 4:00am when Michael finally
returned to the apartment from his wanderings. Coincidentally enough, it was
also around the same time Solomon and Julia pulled up on his bike, returning
from yet another combat practice.
Solomon was pleased with Julia’s progress. She
was an eager and competent student, not unlike her sire, and was learning fast.
As they brought the bike to a stop, they both noticed Michael crossing the
parking lot and going inside.
“Where was he off to tonight?” Solomon wondered
out loud. “Alone.”
“He was weird earlier, probably because he and
Sarah are in separate rooms now.”
“What happened?”
“You know Michael as well as anyone. Do you
really have to ask? He fucked someone he wasn’t supposed to.”
Solomon grunted an unsurprised reply. “I keep
warning him about that. I suppose you’re all eager and ready to take advantage
of the opening.”
“I tried. He didn’t bite. Mumbled something
about how he’d wronged me and just walked away.”
“So he’s off having some long dark night of the
soul. It’s not the first time for him. We all go through them. All us kindred.”
Solomon sighed. “He’s right about the way he’s treated you though. A thrall-bond is a
terrible thing to inflict on somebody. You didn’t deserve that. It robs you of
your true desires...” He paused as if to find the right words to say. “...and
it gets in the way of those who want to be with you in a more honest fashion.”
“Solomon Wolfe, did you just come on to me?”
said Julia incredulously.
“I’m not very good at this stuff.” Solomon
admitted. “I’m a Gangrel. Rough, tough, it’s far easier for me to hit something
than it is to love it. But my life’s a lonely one and the last kindred I tried
to be with rejected me. I suppose in one sense that gives us something in
common. The fool up there doesn’t even realize what he’s doing. Doesn’t realize
there are others who would give anything to have what he has with Sarah. I used
to with Deborah, your grandsire. I miss that. Tried to get it back and failed.
So yeah, I guess I am coming on to you. The way I figure it, we’re two lonely
souls who at the very least could be lonely together. There are worse fates.”
Julia smiled. She leaned forward on the bike and
gave Solomon a kiss on the rough skin of his cheek. “Lonely together doesn’t
sound too bad.” she admitted. “Come see me tomorrow night and we’ll talk about
that.”
---
Michael stayed home the next night. Julia was
off with Solomon, but Sarah stayed home also. They did not talk. They did not
even look at each other. Michael tried. He would walk into the room where she
was, uncertain of what he would say. But before he could fumble out a single word,
she would give him that look of pure malice again and he’d lose his nerve. It
was a silent evening.
But the silence was broken by yet another knock
at the door. Sarah was in the living room when it came, so she went to the door
and opened it. It was Boar, frantic and frustrated. He gave Sarah a brief
greeting and then made for Michael’s bedroom with deliberate intensity.
“We have a problem.” he said.
Michael was reading on the bed, trying to
distract his mind from his misery with Sarah. He looked up. “What now?” he
asked forebodingly.
“The cops came and arrested Mitch. Mirandized
him. The whole bit. They say he raped some girl at the party.”
“What the hell?” Michael came to his feet. “Take
me to him.”
---
“It’s a setup.” said Mitch. “I didn’t force her.
She’s lying.” He was on the far side of a thick glass wall, talking through a
telephone to Michael on the other side. The very same setup Michael had seen in
dozens of cop shows, but now was all painfully real.
Amy had been his accuser, Michael had learned on
the drive over. That made no sense. He’d been with her himself the night
before, drilled her hard on a park bench. Michael may have been far from an
expert on women, despite his extensive experience in bedding them, but he did
know one thing. No woman who’d truly been raped would be jumping the bones of
some random stranger the very next night.
“I believe you.” Michael replied.
“You warned us about this.” Mitch reminded him.
“About how you stumbled onto one of Monroe
Michael’s thoughts went to a grim place. “You
know what I have to do.” he said to Mitch. “This is a war. Walsh pinned us in a
tiny suburb and now he’s taking his potshots at us. We have to take out his
soldiers before he takes out ours. If you end up in court, Walsh will find a
way to railroad you into prison and out of the way for good.”
“But if Amy dies...”
“Then there’s no accuser and no DA is going to
go forward with a trial, no matter how much they’re in Walsh’s pocket.”
“If she dies, I’ll be the first one they’ll look
to.”
“That’s why you need to stay here. I’m not going
to post bail. In there, they’ll know you didn’t do it.”
“But even if you do the deed, they’ll still
think I had something to do with it.”
“Circumstantial. There’ll be no proof. Besides,
Walsh won’t let them touch a kindred because of the Masquerade. If I get
involved directly, it’ll stop.” He paused. “Poor girl. She seemed nice enough.”
“God, I hate this part of what we are. Guilty or
not, she’s just a unknowing pawn in a monster’s game. Seems a poor reason to
have to kill her.”
“I know you hate it. I’m not fond of this part
myself, but, Mitch, what choice do we have?”
“I half think you’d leave me here to rot. Easier
for you. Less risky. And gives you a nice revenge for what happened between me
and Sarah.”
“Mitch, as angry as I might have been over all
that, I’d never do that to you. You’re my best friend. Look, I was going to say
this to you anyway, but I’m sorry about the way I’ve been treating you. Been
treating everyone really, but that’s beside the point for the moment. I was
really unfair to you. Really harsh. You didn’t deserve that and I will make it
up to you by getting you out of here.”
“Thanks.”
---
Sarah found her way through the halls of the
university Philosophy department to the door of Emmanuel Noble’s office. It was
now Monday evening around 7:45 and the building was completely empty. The only
sign of life was the light coming from beneath Noble’s office door.
She knocked quickly. “Enter.” came his voice.
Sarah opened the door and walked inside.
“Ah, Sarah, how good to see you. You look lovely
this evening.”
Ever the charmer, although the compliment on her
appearance was a creepy addition to his repertoire. “You wanted to talk about
the coven?” she said.
“Not really.” he replied casually.
Door locked behind her, clicking of its own
accord. Fear spiked through her. Noble could manipulate energy, the worst sort
of mage for a vampire to face. With a thought, he could conjure fire or
sunlight and turn her to dust without breaking a sweat.
“Did you really think I wouldn’t notice a
vampire in the midst of my people?” he growled coldly. She tensed, preparing
for a fight, but found herself unable to move.
“I’ve robbed your limbs of kinetic energy, so
don’t try to move. It won’t work.” he explained. “You might have gotten out of
here without any trouble, you know? Just one problem. You decided to go rooting
around where you didn’t belong. That was the end of you. And then you were so
naive as to come tonight, making it so damn easy for me.
“Now, it’s tempting for me to turn you over to Santiago
He made a gesture with his hand and Sarah, like
a marionette on strings, bent over onto his desk. He stood up and walked around
behind her. “I’m guessing that story about your genetics was a lie. More
likely, you’re one of those few vampires that got turned way too young. I’m
curious. How old were you when it happened?”
“Twelve.” she admitted. There seemed little
reason to lie again.
“Oh, how delightful. A little old for my tastes,
but not by much.” He took hold of her by the ankles and lifted her up, sliding
a footstool beneath her feet. “Like so many other children that visit my
office, you’re not quite tall enough to do this without a little help.” She
then felt her long skirt come up and over; he bunched it up around her waist to
keep it out of the way. She then felt her panties come down her legs.
This was far from the first time she’d been
taken by a child predator. In fact it was her old hunting style in Tidewater.
But it was the first time she was genuinely not in control of the situation.
The first time when the rape was going to be real and not faked. Her Beast
inside whimpered in fear, gnawing at her soul. Surrendering to the monster,
giving into the bestial frenzy that was part of the vampire’s curse, was
tempting. It might shield her mind from what was coming.
But Sarah needed her rational mind. Rape was one
thing, but Noble wasn’t going to just leave it at that. He had every intention
of murdering her too and she would need her wits about her to escape that fate.
He thrust inside of her without warning. He
chose to sodomize her first and that proved a very rude surprise. She let out a
yelp of pain as he began to work himself in and out. Michael had entered her
there on numerous occasions, but he was gentle, lubed up, and smaller. This was
anything but gentle. She felt the skin tear. Felt the blood begin to flow. She
gritted her teeth against the pain.
“Damn you’re tight.” said Noble, reveling in it.
Now the Beast was angry and again the temptation
to surrender to its urges came on. Sarah fought them down. In one sense, she
glad of that battle. It gave her mind something else to focus on other than the
violation of her body.
“This isn’t exactly what I had in mind.” said
Michael. The hallucination had returned.
“Fuck you both!” she screamed, not caring that
her words would make no sense whatsoever to her attacker.
Dr. Noble took that as a cue to switch things
up. He pulled out of her and with a flick of his hand dumped her onto the
floor. Her limbs were stiff in place, so it was less marionette this time and
more Barbie doll, rigid and unyielding under the kinetic spell he’d placed on
her.
He manipulated the spell to re-position her
limbs, leaving her on her back on the floor. He then took her tank top in his
hands and tore it down the middle. Likewise her bra underneath. Seeing her
mostly-flat chest exposed drove Emmanuel into a frenzy and he thrust hard into
her. At least this time, he chose the other hole, the one better suited to
receive him.
But with the body of a twelve-year old that
orifice did not yield easily to his girth either. She gritted her teeth in pain
again, but this time made no sound. She did not want to give him the
satisfaction. The beast howled within but this time Sarah gave it one small
concession. She snarled and extended her fangs, daring him to try her mouth
next. She’d castrate him with one bite if tried.
He reached climax and pulled out, spraying his
seed all over her. “Damn, bitch, that was incredible. Too bad there won’t be
any repeat performances for you.” He stood up, zipped up his fly, and went
behind his desk again. She could not see what he was doing, still held immobile
by his magic.
“Kill him. That son-of-a-bitch deserves to die
for this.” Michael’s voice again. She agreed with the sentiment, but could not
break the spell that held her paralyzed.
A bright flash of light filled the room. Sarah
recognized it as a camera flash. He was taking pictures. A tiny piece of good
news, she realized. If he did this with her, he did it with the others he’d
mentioned earlier. Those pictures would be somewhere, perhaps in this very
office. That would be her weapon, if she could escape him.
He came around to where she could see him again,
still taking pictures. “You’re too good to forget.” he exclaimed excitedly.
“Worthy of remembrance.” He then set the camera down and brought out the other
item he was holding, a wooden stake. Sarah’s eyes grew wide with fear.
He plunged the stake down into her exposed
chest, piercing through her flesh from the front out the back. “At dawn, the
sunlight will come through that window behind you. By the time I come in
tomorrow for my office hours, you’ll be nothing but a pile of ash on the floor.
No evidence that you were even here. Except these pictures for my collection.
Enjoy your last hours on Earth, vampire.”
With that, he turned and left, leaving her to
her fate.
Next chapter
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