Date: Thu, 28 Jul 2011 13:11:25 -0700 (PDT)
From: Nate House <extreamlucky14@yahoo.com>
Subject: Abandoned Blood 19

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.