Only one short week ago did I come upon the diary, and with it the better realization of the dark powers that myself and Grayling have chosen to fight against. That there have been times over the past few months where our convictions have swayed ... or become tangled in the delicate emotions that are all too much of our feeble human condition I shall not try to deny. But with the discovery of this diary has come that which serves to renew our strength; that we can continue our quest to find our loved ones, to uncover and root out the Intruder, and in so doing, perhaps bring some goodness back to this world upon which we live. It is a lonely struggle. It is an "us and them ... and them" existence. It is maddening at times. It is frustrating. Feelings of complete powerlessness threaten us around every turn. The constant state of suspicion we must hold upon our shoulders is dangerous. Paranoia looms. I long to be able to close my eyes at night without fear. But my dilemma and that of Grayling's is not what this is all about. That will come later if we survive, as we are keeping an account of all that which we have seen and experienced since my last diary entry, that of July of last year. Better, now, that I hand over this diary....
ONE
Wyoming, June 13, 1996 Jenna's Diary
Another letter from Dane arrived this afternoon. The second this week. And that was unusual. He'd been writing me punctually once a week for the last six months. Our letters back and forth had fallen into a comfortable rhythm. We never wrote of the events that had served to separate us from each other. But at the same time the letters served to remind us that what we'd experienced back in Los Angeles had happened. That it wasn't a nightmare or delusion. This helped. It was all too tempting to throw our shared experience off as some awful dream. Oh yes, that would be better than to having to live with the knowledge.
And with the knowledge, the inescapable silence! The loneliness. Only the letters back and forth to Dane, touching on the weather, the latest news from his town or mine. The ticking away of time. Never touching on that which only he and I can touch on. The Strigoi. The Intruder.
And then Nik. We have not spoken of Nik. And though I saw with my own eyes that he perished in the flames with that creature ... I see it every night when I close my eyes. I see the fire engulf them as the stage curtains fall. I smell the smoke, the burning flesh. I hear the awful screams of the vampires. If someone were to ask me what that sounded like, I would describe a rabbit screaming. Only much louder, and with a preternatural timber that turns the blood to ice and the legs to jelly. The death wail of the vampire is a sound I cannot bear. Yet I hear it often, late at night when it is silent. There are nights when I have sat up in torment tearing at my memories, listening to each individual scream. Trying to recognize one as Nik.
Many vampires died that night, their bodies so completely and utterly incinerated that no trace whatsoever was found of them. Just as many got away. Where they went, which ones, I cannot say. I have for months prayed that Nik escaped. That somehow he would come for me.
But now ... after receiving his and Dane's diaries ... after reading of the horrible torment that Nik suffered, my prayers have all ceased. And incredible sadness presses.
Ah, but I am getting ahead of myself. I want to chronicle my movements from this moment on. It is an arduous undertaking, but one that must be done. As Nik wrote, and as Dane has suggested, I need to write so I know I am not dreaming. But more importantly, so that others will know that ignorance is not bliss. It is death, sure and swift. And only sometimes is it final.
I can stay no longer with mother and father on the ranch. I must find Dane! I plan to set out before first light in the morning, and will spend the time between now and then writing as much as I can. Oh, to think of the last six months that I have spent wasting away out here, isolated.
In mourning. The cold winter closed in around me and I allowed its icy bite to keep me in this depression. Trying not to feel, or think, or live.
But this all changed with the arrival of the package from Dane. In it were his and Nik's diaries. And my salvation from this slow, slow death.
For the last few nights after receiving the diaries I have awakened screaming from nightmares so vivid, so terrifying. So dark. The experience of that creature, the Intruder that had inhabited me, played over and over in my dreams. When I slept I dreamt it was still within me. When I woke I was filled with the loneliness of its passing from me. And who to tell? Who to talk to? No one but Dane, for he knows it all to be true. And now his letters have stopped. He cannot risk exposing me as he now exposes himself by virtue of his quest. I can no longer hold onto the little bit of reassurance his letters provide that I am not mad. I must rely on myself alone for this. From this point on.
My somnambulistic state of existence ended three days ago when Dane's letter arrived at its normal time. Even before I opened it I knew that there was something different. I knew that it wasn't filled with the standard greeting and subsequent predictable procession of subjects relayed in his comfortable, caring way. I couldn't open it at first. I wanted to hand it back to the postal clerk, have her put it back in my box. But I couldn't do that. So I left and went outside, tucking the letter in my jacket pocket and walking quickly across the packed dirt road to my jeep. The postal clerk came running after me, handing me a package, begging my pardon that she'd almost forgotten it. I decided I would wait on both until I got home. I drove out of town and turned down the road that would give me fifteen miles think. The entire time the letter burned a hole in my pocket, and the package enticed from its position on the passenger side seat. I stopped halfway home and I read Dane's letter, the first one which accompanied the diaries. It is as follows:
My Dearest Jenna, I have found him! Grayling! You remember, it was he who I first spoke with at the Scarlet Ochre that night. The slave-boy to Silena. He has been in hiding and rightly so, for the Strigoi seek to destroy him. He knows too much. And that he has turned against the family for the terrible injustices they leveled on him is not unknown to them. He is now with me, safe, and we shall soon be setting out to find Nik. Yes, Nik is alive, Jenna! I came across his last diary entry, he escaped the fire! He escaped the Intruder and the Strigoi as well! He thinks you and I are dead; there was nothing else for him to think. At the time ... All this time ... And then....
I mustn't get ahead of myself. I beg you to please bear with me. I write this letter in haste for there is precious little time left. There are important things you must know.
With Grayling's help I shall find Nik and perhaps there is something that can be done! The Vampyre brought him over to their dark world. If there is a way to bring him back to ours I shall find it!
Numb, I returned home and went straight to my room and read the diaries which were in the package. Two days later a second letter arrived:
I have sold everything I could and have arranged my bank accounts. I have sufficient funds to last for quite some time. Grayling has word that Falco has moved what is left of his Family to Las Vegas where he has plans for opening another club. Oh, what better city is there! It is alive at night, it seethes with the debased, the foolhardy, the purveyors and victims of trickery and chance! It is such a logical choice. And one thing I noticed during my short acquaintance with Falco is that he is a logical man.
And surely, Nik is among them. But why hasn't he contacted us? This would be your first thought, as it was mine. There can be several explanations: He met with death. He has gone into hiding, as Grayling did. Or, and this is the hardest one to fathom but a choice nonetheless, he has joined forces with Falco. But it is none of these as I will explain shortly. My optimism, for reasons unclear at this moment, is flourishing. I don't know how to explain it, but all this time I have not felt that Nik died in those flames! I did not ever express these feelings to you before, I could not. My concern over the pain you had suffered through the entire ordeal; pain which you still suffered over Nik's disappearance kept me quiet. At the same time I was certain that you felt the same way. We would have known if he had died, Jenna, we would have known!
Now that I have found Grayling, I am bolstered even further to seek the truth. To find my friend and your beloved, and from then we will see. Grayling has spoken to him. He is alive.
But first I must tell you that all is not quite so simple. I have held onto the transmuting device which I recovered from the burned out club. I feel that I must apologize to you for not including you in this little piece of information, but again, I must beg my reluctance to expose you to anything harmful, even if it were only to the sad memories my find would stir in your heart.
It is such a strange thing, the transmuting device. There were days in the beginning where it was absolutely quiet, lying idle in its resting place in the lower left hand drawer of my credenza. And then suddenly it came alive, humming and glowing as though calling out to the Intruder. I realized after a short time that there were sequences to the tones it made, like songs almost. In fact, when I hear it now I think to myself that it is singing, calling out to its owner. These recent times have been the most frightening to me, for the activeness of the device has increased, reminding me so surely of all we went through and how narrowly we escaped with our lives.
As the weeks passed its "activity" increased and I began to wonder, and then became quite certain that the reason it was so active was because the Intruder was near! It was then that I decided to search for Grayling. I knew he was at odds with his intended makers for the vile and cruel torture and faithlessness that they had shown him. I retrieved Nik's diary from the vault, hoping to find a shred or two of information that might lead me in the right direction; an address or phone number ... and it was then that I discovered the last diary entry! I cannot express the height to which my motivation soared! It did not take me long to figure out that Grayling was most likely here on a visitor's visa. (You will read in my diary about my initial meeting with Grayling, and that he spoke briefly about following the Family from Europe) A little flirting with the consulate secretary earned me an appointment with the notoriously corrupt Consular Assistant, and from there it was a mere matter of placing a few choice likenesses of Benjamin Franklin on his desk to procure a copy of the visa and all other records on the young man.
He lived in a converted bungalow in Laurel Canyon only minutes from my home in the Valley!
And now, I must ask you to bear with the following accounting of what I found when I found Grayling. I don't know that it will shock you. You have experienced much, especially of late if you have read the diaries I sent you. But I must warn you that what I am about to relay, if not shocking, is at least enough to make you stop and wonder, for it did I. I write of it and include it in this letter, which I hasten you to store safely away with the diaries, because we may someday need to make use of them, to save ourselves from madness ... or humankind from Them....
It was near 9 o'clock when I pulled up the winding road to the address the Consular Assistant had supplied me with. There were several cars in the downward sloping driveway, and lights were on within. I parked and made my way to the front door. The house seemed unusually still. Eerily quiet. I rang the bell, heard it sound from within, and shortly the door was answered by an attractive young girl. She was petite, perhaps 5'3" and gazed up dreamily at me with china blue eyes set in alabaster white skin. She was dressed in a short gauze dress of a pale, pale pink which cast the most lovely lights in her platinum blonde bobbed hair. She wore false eyelashes, like those fashionable in the 60's, along with pale blue eye shadow and a translucent white lipstick. She looked at my hands momentarily, and then back up into my eyes.
"May I help you?" she inquired.
"I am an unexpected guest," I replied. "Please let Grayling know that Dane is here."
She tilted her head ever so slightly, scrutinizing, pursing her lips, and in a few seconds decided that it would be best to do as I asked.
"Wait here," she said, and closed the door.
Perhaps five minutes passed before the door opened again. The young woman stepped back allowing me to enter, then closed the door behind me, throwing the locks. The entryway was narrow and dark. The woman bid me to follow her through the entryway into the living room. It was decorated nicely, very tastefully in beige with a touch here and there of taupe, dusty rose, and teal. She motioned for me to take a seat on the leather sofa.
"Please make yourself comfortable. He will be right with you."
The woman left, disappearing through a doorway to the far right. I took a seat on the edge of the sofa and looked around the room, admiring the paintings, most of which were water colors hanging in gilt frames, the canvases reminding me of Monet in their texture and brush stroke, but it is there that the likeness ended. For instead of studies in nature, these paintings reflected the images of bondage.
There were also several sculptures, simple yet provocative renderings of females, naked and in various positions of surrender to an unseen force. Upon closer inspection of one such sculpture that rested centerpiece on the coffee table, I noticed that the arms of the kneeling female were bound behind her back with delicate cords, and that a length of this cord ran down to her ankles, in turn binding them. Running in the opposite direction from her wrists was yet another cord which tied off at a collar around her neck. The aspect of bondage was -very subtle and not the first thing one noticed when looking at the piece. And it made me stop and take notice of the other pieces. All were instilled with some aspect or element of bondage and surrender. And all the representative characters were female.
This all seemed at odds with the Grayling I knew; the quiet romantic submissive slave boy to his Vampyre Mistress, Silena. Indeed, the art work filling this room spoke of someone quite his opposite. I began to wonder if perhaps this were the house of another when Grayling entered the room.
His large, dark blue eyes seemed not so innocent as I remembered them, yet they were filled with kindness, and I detected a glint of happiness.
"Dane," he said, offering his hand and smiling broadly to reveal his very white teeth. Teeth that I remembered so well. Sharp. Gleaming. The "canine" a little longer than they should be.
As he neared I looked for the signs of the Strigoi: the pale, translucent skin, the Mother of Pearl cast to the whites of the eyes, the inhuman, enchanting animation to simple movements and gestures.
No, I thought, answering the question that had nagged at me. He is not one of them. He is for the most part human. He is afflicted still, but with only the most minor traces of his Mistress's touch; her having allowed him a drop here and there of her precious life's blood. I stood and took his hand, felt his strong grip, the warmth of his skin; further indication that he was still mortal. I could not help the smile that spread across my own face in that moment, nor deny the elation that I felt upon seeing him again after all these months. That I had found him meant I was that much closer to finding Nik, and my heart soared. We embraced for a long moment, slapping each other on the back, as men will do.
At last I held him back at arms length and looked him over thoroughly. The only change to him that I could detect was a nearly imperceptible air of ... authority. This was something that I had never before sensed in him. At the time the feeling was quite fleeting, so that I really wasn't sure if that was, in fact, what I felt. Now, however, as I sit and write this out I can say without a doubt that my instincts were correct.
"You look well, Dane," he said and motioned for me to resume my seat on the sofa, moving towards me and sitting down himself. "How is it that you are here?"
"I must admit that I did not think that two so different men as we would ever cross paths again," I said slowly. "But I have made a discovery, and I need your help."
Grayling looked at me steadily, patience etched across his face.
"I have found this," I said and pulled from my jacket pocket the last entry from Nik's journal. I include it in this letter to you, Jenna. It is not dated, but I found it in Nik's old room at the Valhalla weeks after the fire. It reads as follows:
"I have not seen or heard from Dane or Jenna in days. I have spent my evenings killing for the blood that sustains me, and searching until dawn for the whereabouts of my friends. There are no signs of them. I must return to my rooms, to leave my diaries to them if they still live, and shall now for the sun is nearly up.
If they still live ... it breaks my heart to ponder that!
These will be my last words. I will leave my diaries and leave this city. I pray that somehow my words will come to good use. Originally I started out to record the events for Jenna. Now ... whoever's hands these pages fall into, I hope you will take warning and walk carefully through the night. Certainly I do not expect you to believe the events as I've set them down on paper. But at the same time I cannot hold such horrific truths to myself. If, of everyone who may happen to read this, only a handful of you are willing to believe and to perhaps guard yourselves against these creatures, then I can leave here tonight with some sense of purpose. You see, with the coming night I have lost more and more hope of finding either Jenna or Dane alive. I blame the Intruder and have vowed to destroy it ... if it doesn't destroy me first.
Depression has taken hold of me, I am moving off to fight toward an unwinnable victory, for loved ones who ... I know ... have already perished. It would be empty and useless had I not some cause. So I turn to the hapless reader, that you might be spared that which haunts the nights. All it takes is the knowledge that it is there. The knowledge that creatures such as I exist. And so, I bid you farewell."
I read this entry aloud to Grayling. He listened calmly, remaining perfectly still, his eyes fixed straight ahead on an invisible point as he absorbed that which was made clear in Nik's writing. That Nik feared both you and I dead. And that he had vowed to set out to destroy the Intruder. And that this meant, without a doubt, that he would enlist the aid of the Intruder's enemies. The Family Strigoi: Falco, and whoever survived the fire. And whoever else they had made since. Is it not true to the point of irony that "the enemies of my enemies I call my friends"?
Grayling closed his eyes a moment and thought. When he opened them again he looked directly at me.
"You wish to find your friend. At the same time have you stopped to consider that at the time of this writing of his, it was only natural for him to assume you dead. But it has been six months. Surely, a creature with the powers he possesses would have shortly thereafter figured out that you did in fact live."
His words brought up within me that which I had previously tried to deny. That Nik did know we survived, but for reasons unknown to us chose to stay away.
"Dane, I understand that you have a pressing need to try and find him. He is your best friend. He has been hurt by what the Strigoi have done to him. His life, yours and Jenna's forever altered. A rupture in your lives that cannot be mended."
"But there might be a way to help him. Some way to reverse what has happened to him!" I said, and louder than I had to. "There may be a way and if there is I owe it to him to at least try."
"There is no way," he said softly, and with the deepest sadness in his eyes. "No more than there is a way to reverse what little has happened to me by their touch." By this he meant, of course, the droplets of blood that had worked their vile magic on him. "I have accepted it as part of me. It is the only part I cannot rid myself of. But," he said making a sweeping motion with his hand to take in the room. "You can see that my tastes have changed. I am no longer the pawn, the prey. Perhaps, in my endeavor to distance myself so from that weak creature that I was then ... perhaps I have taken my appetites to the opposite extreme."
In that moment I got the distinct impression that he was trying to change the subject. I decided to let him, and see where it would take us.
Grayling smiled weakly at me. "I have changed my lifestyle, Dane. You will not find me the unwitting slave in any Mistress's dungeon. I have ... gotten over all that, as I have gotten over the Family and my naive desires to be a part of them. I have created my own family. I am the Master over them. The Master over my home, and over my fate."
I was surprised and it must have shown to the point of rudeness on my face.
"My friend, do not judge me so harshly before you understand completely."
Grayling stood then. "Please come with me and let me show you. Meet my family and bring with you the knowledge that they are free. I do not hold them with preternatural enchantment nor pain of death."
I followed him quietly through the house to a doorway that led off the kitchen. He opened the door and threw a light switch which illuminated the stairs leading downward. We descended into the basement of the house, and emerged in a lavishly appointed dungeon where four women were lounging on pillows. The young woman who had greeted me earlier was there as well, but she was busy in the far corner on a computer, and only glanced up briefly when we entered. The other women smiled coyly at me from their positions. They were clothed provocatively in silk and lace, and the air was scented with the perfume of their skin and hair.
"These are the women of my family, Dane," he said, and stepped away from me and toward them. One by one each of the four women rose and went to him. They were astonishingly lovely, all brunettes with hair flowing long and free down their backs. Two knelt down at his feet while the other two laid their hands on his upper arms and bent their heads to his chest, caressing him with their bodies in the same way a cat will caress its owner. The two at his feet did the same to his legs, their smooth, soft hands traveling over the material of his pants slowly, moving up and down his thighs.
As much as I wanted to get back to that which I had come to him for, I could not resist the temptation to learn what his new lifestyle held.
"These are my closest companions. They, along with Ingrid, make up the core of my family. There are others, extended family members with whom we visit now and then. But these are the ones I take care of. The ones that live here with me and look to me for direct support and guidance. Though they have handed themselves over to me entirely and without question, they are as free as you or I to walk up those stairs and out the front door whenever they choose. Do you understand the difference?"
I assured him that I did, and that I had not passed any judgments upon him. That I had only been surprised at what I termed his change in attitude.
"Ah, Dane, you need not feel that you must shroud your observations in figures of speech. My family knows the whole truth, not only about my previous predilection to enslavement, but the truth as well about my old family.
They know all too well."
Grayling carefully disentangled himself from the women and came back to me. He motioned toward the right to a sitting area where there was a beautiful brocade covered chaise and several overstuffed velvet chairs.
"Please make yourself comfortable. The girls were just about to serve some refresliments when you arrived."
He led me to the sitting area. I attempted to apologize for arriving unannounced, but he held up a hand to protest any such action on my part.
"By all accounts I am happy for the company," he said sitting down on the chaise and watching as I took one of the chairs. "It is not often that I have the company of male companionship. And it is even more of a treat to see you."
I thanked him for his graciousness and watched out of the corner of my eye as the girls went through a side door into a well appointed kitchen. I could see on the counter top where they had several silver serving trays heaped with fruits and cheeses, and another with a silver decanter and goblets. They arranged and whispered among themselves.
"I will admit, Dane, that I have been keeping watch over you. Even as I have been in hiding from the Strigoi for what I know of them and the danger this presents, so, too, are you in danger. I knew that Falco would take the Family away from this city, at least until they grew strong again. And I felt certain that they would leave behind a Moroi or two to clean up any loose ends remaining. You and I, Dane, are loose ends."
"And did they?" I asked, the faces of Duncan and Matthias exploding in my mind's eye at the word Moroi. Oh, I remembered so well those poor creatures, lost to the Vampyre that breed them specifically for the purpose of servitude. Creatures that are mindless for the most part, capable of very little independent thought of their own. Minions to the dark force of the Strigoi.
"Yes, you will remember the one, Matthias. He was left as he is the most ... creative shall we say. He was taught much more than the others, and therefore was the best choice. He did, however, fall into trouble almost immediately with the authorities and had to be removed. They sent in some others, but they proved to be useless. I easily stayed several steps ahead of them, leading them down false paths until within a few weeks I was able to settle here with the Moroi off miles away in Long Beach, hunting the alleyways, combing the docks, turning up empty handed. I am not expecting my good fortune to last, however. In fact, I am surprised that they have not turned to more orthodox methods of locating me. Such as those you employed."
"Then ... you were aware that I was looking for you?" I asked incredulously.
"Oh yes. I received word even as you stood flirting with the secretary that you were seeking out my hiding place," he laughed softly. "By the by, you could have gotten the information you sought for half what you paid. Consular Assistant Vallone possesses much less integrity than you give him credit for."
"But how?"
Grayling smiled and called for Ingrid to come to his side. The young woman came to him immediately and knelt down on the floor, her hands folded in her lap.
"Picture her with glasses, Dane. A proper little business suit. A black wig and brown contact lenses."
Amazingly, this was all too easy for me to do. It was she! The consular secretary!
"As I said, I have stayed several steps ahead. But that you managed to find me ... it is only a matter of time before they do as well. I predict that their next move might involve hiring a private detective firm. And if they do ... I was successful in leading the Moroi away from you, Dane, and sending them off on a wild false chase after me. But they were un-resourceful creatures. A professional private investigator...."
'Then my need ... our need is even greater!" I implored. "We are all in danger!"
"And you propose what, my friend?" Grayling's tone was a dangerous one suddenly. "Find your friend, the Vampyre, and?"
"I ... I don't know that there is anything to be done for him outside letting him know that he has a place with us. With Jenna and I."
"I have told you, he knows that you are alive. He has chosen to stay away."
I began to protest, to say that no he had not said that exactly. That he had only conjectured as much when the look on his face told me that he was quite serious. Though he had only half hinted at it made it no less the truth.
"Then you have seen him! You have spoken with him! What are his reasons, Grayling? Please, you must tell me!"
My excitement and agitation got the better of me and I found myself standing with fists clenched, my heart racing in my throat! Ingrid stood in defense, placing herself between her master and myself, anger blazing in her eyes.
"How dare you raise your voice in my master's house!" she growled.
"Sshh, Ingrid," Grayling whispered, placing his hand on her arm to hold her still. "He means me no harm."
Ingrid relaxed only slightly as she resumed her position on the floor, and kept her eye on me as I, as well, sat back down. The four women in the kitchen appeared, the coyness gone from their faces, replaced by serious glares in my direction.
"Dane, we will come to all of that in due time. Right now we will have a bite to eat, and then I would like to introduce you in the proper manner to my family. Would you like that?"
Though I was not entirely sure of what he meant by proper, I knew that if I did not cooperate with him I would never get him to speak to me further of Nik or the Strigoi. I agreed to a later discussion, and accepted his invitation to eat, and then commence with proper introductions.
Ingrid reluctantly went back to her computer, though she kept an untrusting eye on me. I did not know at the time, but what she was doing was accessing various data bases, or trying to anyway, in hopes of gleaning what information she could on the Intruder. But, I will come to that in due time. For now I must complete this letter to you before we reach our destination.
The four brunettes served us the meal they had prepared. They emerged one by one from the kitchen carrying their silver serving trays. One brought wine, the next fruits and cheeses, and the final two an assortment of crackers and meats. But the food, for all the care with which it had been prepared was not what caught and held my attention. It was the women, clad now in nothing save the collars worn around their necks! Grayling smiled at my surprise, at my sudden nervousness as the women came closer and offered their trays. My hands shook as they bent near, trays held out, their full beautiful breasts only inches from my face. In moments I sat with a wine goblet in one hand and a plate of delicacies in the other which I balanced on my lap, hiding the evidence of my arousal. To look back now it seems silly to have allowed such misplaced thoughts; that my erection might cause the women undo discomfort when in fact that is their very reason for being there.
Grayling made no attempt to hide his pleasure at being served by four nude women. Reclining on the chaise, his arms resting at his sides, he allowed one of the women to stand at his side and feed him, offering now and then the goblet to his lips. I felt quite separate from what went on next, little more than an observer.
The three women, having done their first duty of serving the food, went to the center of the dungeon. Two stood on either side of the one and taking her by the wrists, raised her arms over her head and fastened manacles to her. To her ankles they attached a separator bar, which they in turn locked down to rings bolted into the floor. The women then went to a large credenza and withdrew leather floggers. They went back to the captive's side and turned to face Grayling, awaiting their instructions. He looked up at the woman by his side.
"Take care of our guest," he said, a slight annoyance to his voice.
"Yes, Master," she whispered and reluctantly left his side. Her face was filled with jealousy as Ingrid rose from her work and went to Grayling. She knelt down next to him and placing a hand on his head began to run her fingers gently through his hair.
The women in the center of the dungeon still looked to him for instruction. When he nodded, they stood back taking positions at right angles a few feet from the captive. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Grayling nodded once more, signaling the start. In unison the long leather fingers of the whips met with the delicate skin of the captive, the sharp report of contact making me jump and causing my heart to race wildly in my chest. The atrocities that I'd witnessed in the Scarlet Ochre were brought vividly back to my mind at that sound and I turned quickly to Grayling. He smiled and raised a hand to quiet my concern.
"Remember," he said softly. "Here by their own choice."
The strike of leather against flesh quickly turned my eyes back to the center of the dungeon. Across the captive's thighs where the floggers had struck were angry red welts, and already tiny beads of sweat stood out across her brow. But the look on her face was not one of torment, but rather one of ... perverse gratitude!
I felt the woman at my side remove the untouched plate of food from my lap. As I watched the floggers sweep through the air once more, the woman at my side knelt and took the goblet from my hand. She brought it to my mouth and tilted it so that the delicious liquid touched my lips, parting them and flowing smoothly into my mouth. My immediate thought was that I'd never tasted anything so smooth, so aromatic, so completely pure before in my life. Immediately I relaxed as though I'd been placed under a spell. There was nothing for me to do but enjoy what I was witnessing.
Grayling turned his attention back to the women. Ingrid, continuing to lavish her fingertips through his hair with one hand brought the other to his lap and gently stroked him with her fingertips, causing his body to tense briefly before once again settling. The beating continued as did Ingrid's ministrations. She opened his pants and inserted her hand, and then she opened his shirt, bending over him, running her tongue over his skin, laying kisses. Grayling kept his eyes on the women, savoring the sight.
The beating continued for some time, growing harsher all the while. The girl's body was covered with long red welts, her skin glistened with sweat and the dungeon was filled with her frantic panting and pain filled moans. Grayling sat up then, and Ingrid moved so that she knelt between his legs. She pulled his cock free and gently kissed the tip. He kept his eyes on the other women as they laid down their floggers and went back to the credenza. One chose a riding crop, the other picked up a length of fine chain with little clamps on either end. They went back to the captive. The woman at my side moved around behind me and ran her hands down under my shirt. Her fingertips found my nipples and began to play with them, making them hard even as the captive's nipples were made hard by the ministrations of the woman with the chain. I felt enchantment like none other! I watched intently as the captive's nipples were licked and sucked on until they stood erect and hard. The sight of the female mouth taking the breasts and nipples of another female was, at that point in my life, the most erotic thing I'd ever seen! My cock ached it was so hard. The woman's fingers playing with my own nipples mimicked every move of the woman in the lesbian scene before us! When the chain was held up and the clamps fastened on the tips of those rigid nipples, the woman attending me pinched hard, sending through my body a shock wave of incredible sexual stimulation so intense my cock jumped and passion blazed through every part of me!
To my right, Ingrid held Grayling's cock in her hand, her fingers closed around it, her lips kissing in a concentrated effort, pulling the head deeper and deeper into her mouth until the rim of it passed over her lips. Her cheeks hollowed as she pulled hard on him, making him moan in deep pleasure. He closed his eyes and placed his hands at the back of her head, gently pushing her down on him further. His lips parted as he panted, exposing his teeth, lending an otherworldly aspect to the eroticism of the moment; one that I found fascinating! The Grayling I'd known before, the submissive torture hungry slave boy was now the Master. The orchestrator of his own pleasure!
Ingrid had no trouble taking the huge cock as deep into her as it would reach. Images of Silena's other slave boy, Hunter, came to my mind. She had chosen both for their incredible beauty. The long, blonde hair, the angelic faces, the perfect bodies. Cocks any man would give his right arm for. Males of utter perfection! How easily Nik had fit into this category and fallen prey to the decadent vampires who sought, and succeeded, in making him one of their own!
But Jenna, I must admit to you that in that particular moment as I sat there in my own deprived lust, the last thing I allowed myself to think about was the morality of any issue that might come to mind. Instead I would allow no shame to touch me; nor allow anything to disturb the pleasure that inundated me from every direction, from within and without.
Grayling pushed Ingrid back and stood. The captive and her assailants watched him hungrily as he approached them. The barely perceptible vampiric characteristics in him had been awakened by Ingrid's mouth, and with them the pressing need for release. Though I knew Grayling was not a true vampire, that he'd not been Turned as Nik had, he had nonetheless been infected. Arousal, either by happiness, sadness, anger, or in this case pleasure set off a desire in him that, though not as powerful as that of the vampire, was more than that of a mere mortal man. And the little traces of his infection, the teeth, the luminescent eyes, the increased strength, and the driving passion were all making themselves known in that moment as he approached the captive from behind and placed his hands at her tiny waist to hold her still as he pressed his body against hers.
She trembled, and rightly so! He meant to take her from behind and she begged him humbly to be gentle with her, calling him Master in the most loving, the sweetest voice. It brought tears to my eyes.
Grayling gathered her hair, which hung in a long damp tangle down her back, and laid it over her shoulder out of his way. The other women had moved back from them and knelt down, their heads upturned, watching their master and the lucky one who held his attention.
"I will be gentle with you, sweet one. But you are mine and I will have you, whenever I choose and in whatever manner I deem fit. And tonight I will take you like an animal, and you will not find release from the pleading of your passion, do you understand?"
The girl began to weep, throwing her head back against his shoulder. "Oh, Master, please. Please allow me, just this once!"
Grayling moved one arm around her waist to steady her. With his free hand he took his cock and began to press into her. She winced in pain, gritting her teeth. In a moment her mouth formed an "o" as he entered her, and a cry escaped her. The women kneeling on the floor clasped their hands behind their backs, their eyes wide with wonder, envy, lust.
Having found his hold on the woman, Grayling went into a gentle yet steady driving rhythm as he fucked the woman slowly. He moved his hand from his cock to the woman's pussy, letting his fingers glide along her, gathering her wetness on his fingertips and drawing it through the soft down between her legs. The woman's hands clenched, her arms pulled at the manacles which held her tight, and her body writhed at first with pain ... and then in pleasure in response to the violation being done to her.
Grayling pulled her closer still as his thrusts increased in intensity and speed. His arms held her tightly, and he bent his head to the side of her throat which she offered to him. His tongue licked and caressed, traveling downward to the hollow at her collarbone then upward again until he found the spot he sought. His breathing had turned fast and labored, every thrust bringing up a sensual moan from his core. And then ... his lips parted! His teeth brushed the delicate white skin. He shuddered in anticipation, and slowly closed his mouth over her. His teeth pierced her flesh and she tensed, her eyes opening wide as a faint gasp was forced from her body. I knew ... I remembered what it looked like, this feeding on blood ... when Grayling began to pull on her she relaxed. At the taste of her blood Grayling came hard, almost violently! His deep, guttural moans smothered in her neck as his orgasm wracked his body!
The woman was pleading with him to allow her her own release even as Ingrid rushed to his side to carefully but firmly press her fingers between his mouth and the victim's neck.
"Master, you must not," she insisted in a firm, scolding whisper. "Stop now, it will only make you ill. Stop."
Grayling, dazed, still in a swoon allowed Ingrid to pull him from his victim and lead him back to the chaise. Weak and somewhat disoriented, he laid down with Ingrid's help, his arms falling limply to his sides, his chest heaving still from the exertion. His eyes closed, and a thin trickle of blood ran from the corner of his mouth.
"Allow her," he whispered between breaths to Ingrid. Ingrid in turn motioned to the women on the floor. They got up and released the girl's arms from their shackles. Shaking in anticipation, the girl sat and then laid down on the floor. Her legs were held apart, spread wide by the separator bar and exposing her wet, swollen pussy for all to see. She placed her hands between her legs and began to pleasure herself, moaning loudly when her fingers touched her clit. My own excitement doubled! The woman was still playing with my nipples, teasing, daring to move lower.
"Which would you like?" Grayling asked, turning his head and looking at me with dreamy eyes. Ingrid was rubbing his cock which was still half hard and licking his balls softly.
I could not take my eyes from the blood at his mouth! I could not understand why the act I'd just witnessed had not affected me in the negative; why it was that it only seemed to heighten the eroticism of the moment!
I could not speak, could not tell him that it didn't matter which one, only that I must have one or the other before I went mad with desire!
At that moment the woman on the floor exploded in her orgasm, screaming out and writhing furiously! I felt my cock jump and pound within my pants, my cum having built up so that I didn't know how much longer I could hold it back!
"Slave," Grayling said to the woman behind me. "Take care of our guest."
The woman moved in front of me and undid my pants, reached in and withdrew my throbbing cock. The mere touch of her hands made me moan. When she lowered her head and parted her perfect lips a bead of pre-cum oozed from me. She lapped it up with the tip of her tongue, then drove her mouth down on me, clamping hard and sucking with such force that my orgasm let loose and in one chaotic, wild, disarming moment overwhelmed me, turning the world dark as rapture, pure and sweet, engulfed everything....
TWO
Dane's diary, continued
It could have been no more than a few moments that I was out. If I even was out. I couldn't tell where it was I had gone; where my mind had taken me other than some state of bliss bordering on, if not truly ... Heaven. But aren't we taught that such measures will not deliver us there? What is true anymore? Vampires were supposed to be fictional creatures, the stuff of "B" movies, the dismantled ravings of third world peasants. The clever twisting of the deeds of a centuries dead Slavic ruler. Ah, Jenna, these were my thoughts after such bliss.
I looked over at Grayling. His eyes were closed, his hands folded across his chest which rose and fell evenly. But he was not asleep. I sensed only the need for him to regroup his energies. I myself felt amazingly refreshed, I realized. The momentary lapse in my awareness had done me a world of good. Looking around I could see that the women were gone, all save for Ingrid who was once more at her computer, her fingers tapping away furiously, her eyes scanning the information displayed across her screen.
Grayling opened his eyes and stretched, then looked at me serenely. "Ah, you are awake. Do you feel well?"
I assured him I felt quite well, refreshed as though I'd slept for hours.
"Yes, the wine. You are not used to it. Some vintage stock from my days with the Family Strigoi. One cannot find this wine anywhere else. But it is not wine you came here to talk about, now is it?"
I sat forward in my chair and took a deep cleansing breath. "Grayling, I must find Nik. I do not think I can accomplish this without some help from you. I haven't the slightest idea of where to begin looking. You are my only hope at this point. Somehow you must understand that there is nothing so important in my life as my friendship with Nik."
'This I do understand, and I admire you the honor and dedication you hold for him. But as I said, he has chosen to stay away from you. From Jenna."
"Why is this! Why does he suffer us to this? Doesn't he know that whatever we can do, however we may be able to help him, all he need do is ask?"
"But he cannot. He sees himself a monster. A killer. Though he would never willingly hurt you or anyone else he loves, he does kill others in order to survive. He despairs at what you think of him. Of the look in your eyes when you think of him. Tell me, Dane, if you saw him, knowing as you must surely know, that he kills and will continue to do so. To live. Would you not see him differently? It is agony to him to have to contemplate these things."
"I do understand that these would be concerns of his. But he would know, if only I could talk to him for a moment, that his despair is needless. I know what he has to do to live, and it is not his fault! Not his doing and therefore...."
"He is not to be held accountable for his actions?" Grayling snapped impatiently. "My friend, you know as well as I that that is a lie. You know this. I know this. And so does he. You do us all an injustice, caught up as you are in your own desperation, that you are not focused on the truth but more on pity."
He was right of course.
"If there is something to be focused on it is that Nik's illfated demise into the dark realm of the Strigoi was not orchestrated by the Vampyre alone. Oh, my friend, rarely is it ever a one-sided decision! Their victims are not without a certain amount of say in the matter. It is clear. Those who are brought over want it in some way. For all the ages that the Vampyre have walked this earth their numbers would be overwhelming, they would be in the majority, rulers of this world had the final decision been left to them alone."
"You are saying that Nik did want this?" I questioned slowly.
"Of course he did. Madeline sensed it the moment she met him. Though Nik himself remained confused for some time, still is in fact ... distracted by certain overblown virtues inherent in his nature ... he does want it. He is what would be termed a true submissive. But truer, and purer than what can be appreciated on the mortal plane."
Grayling's eyes became suffused with an iridescent light, the dark blue irises huge and swirling with inhuman luminescence. "Were you to see him now ... you would not see your Nik of old. He has adapted to what he has become. By his very nature he IS Vampyre."
"How can you say that!" I hissed, angered suddenly that Grayling had the nerve to challenge my understanding and lifelong friendship with a man he knew only briefly. "You listened as I read his diary aloud in this very room! He despises them, he...."
"As you yourself pointed out, Dane. That entry is six months old."
"I don't believe that he has accepted what has happened to him. I can't accept it."
"But you will. You will see. I've little choice in the matter now but to take you to him so that this foolishness will stop and you use your energies in a manner that would be more beneficial."
My heart pounded at the prospect of seeing Nik. But what was Grayling getting at outside of this?
"You are in possession of certain computer disks, are you not?"
My mind snapped to attention.
"If there is an enemy to shudder at it is the creature you stole those from. I would suggest that by the look on your face you have not as yet gone through all the information. You have not broken the encryption of certain files."
It was true. There had been many files that I could not read, but I disregarded these as corrupt files, or files on bad sectors of the disks considering that I hadn't exactly been in a position to handle them with care.
"Yes, I have the disks," I said, and glanced at Ingrid who was watching me carefully.
"Ingrid was able to recover only a fraction of what was contained on the hard drive of the laptop, but it was enough to learn that this Intruder, this Gem Decar plans more than just the annihilation of the Strigoi and their fellows, such as I."
"Yes," I said, remembering the transmission that I'd intercepted that spoke of this race of creatures and their master plan to claim the earth as their home; that there had been a slight mishap when the Strigoi were inadvertently introduced, and the "clean-up" effort that had been underway for the last millennia or so. "But, what does that have to do with me? Or Nik? Or you for that matter?"
Grayling yawned and stretched, his long golden hair flowing around his shoulders and his sharp teeth giving him for an instant in time the appearance of a lion; cunning, intelligent, feline. Deadly.
"You know the answer to that already," he said and stood. "Because we know."
And of course he was right. Because we knew. Simply because we knew we were bound to do something about it.
I told him of the transmuting device, explaining to him how I had seen the Intruder use it to transfer from Hunter's body to yours, and finally into Marco's where it still resided. I told him that it had become active suddenly, and that I thought this meant the Intruder was near, and the danger that this presented. In short time we found ourselves not only the quarry of the Strigoi but this other being as well, which sought the annihilation of all of us.
We need to reach Nik, to warn him. We must then seek out Falco and his Family. Ironically, our survival, Jenna, yours, mine and all mankind depends upon the survival of the Vampyre. For they are the one thing that stands between us and the beings of the Gem Decar.
And so, after some more discussion it was decided that I would bring the disks to Grayling, so that Ingrid could use her skills to decipher the encrypted files. Only then would we be armed sufficiently. With ample knowledge of the Gem Decar we could approach the Strigoi with a shield of sorts. They will not seek to harm us, as we would hold the secrets they have sought for so long. We hold the transmuting device, that which not only enables the creature to move from one body to the next, but also enables the beings to transport from their world or dimension into ours. We hold the key to their survival.
The next day I brought the disks and Ingrid set about her task of deciphering them. Grayling went into some detail about Nik at this point. That he'd had contact with him shortly after the accident at the club, and regular contact since. And ... there is something in Grayling's tone which concerns me. For all his talk of Falco and his family, how he despises now the very ground his former Mistress, Silena, walks upon. For all his self-condemnation for what he terms "the weak creature that he once was; the unwitting slave in a woman's dungeon, doing her vile bidding in order to join the elite Family", for all this talk I do not feel that he has changed his mind about joining the Vampyre. Only that he does not want to join the Strigoi. Jenna, I sense in him the most supreme admiration for Nik! When he speaks of him, oh ... how can I describe it? He projects so strongly those vampiric characteristics that Silena bestowed upon him with the little tastes of her blood. He becomes ... so excited that those parts of him infected seem to be infused even more! The human in him is put down in those moments, and the preternatural takes over. He is a man obsessed! There is good in this, for the obvious reasons. That he worships the ground Nik walks on is quite apparent. But as well it is something that I must keep a close watch on. Grayling has spoken to me, enlightened me more on the mechanics of becoming a vampire. He spoke with candor about how powerful Nik is at such an early stage in his new life. That it is something unheard of for one to possess the depth of power that he has. That it has something to do with the dormant blood of the Ancients, as passed from one vampire to the next through the process of the Turning, and that somehow, in Nik, this dormant blood was awakened, filling him with what would take another centuries to acquire. He told me also that a vampire's first progeny, that is, their first "child" is always the most powerful. The most like their maker. The strongest of their progeny. And though Grayling did not come out and say it, I know from the look in his eyes and the tone of his voice that he wishes to be Nik's first. Jenna, as written in the diaries, Nik was Madeline's first and she herself is a vampire of incredible power. Along with Silena, she holds the position of Mistress. There are lesser ones by the score but above them reign only Ash and Ilona, and then Falco who is the Father of them all. Grayling, were he to convince Nik to take him, would be born as powerful, and in position to ... I cannot finish this thought right now. I want to believe that Nik still has within him the humanity to see that bringing anyone over would be wrong. That he suffers still the mortal life ripped from him, and would not condemn another to the same. I shall hold onto this, Jenna, and I want you to do the same. Moreover, I want you to remain where you are. It is the only safe place for you. The Intruder does not know of your whereabouts or it would have come for you long before now. The Strigoi, well, if there is one thing to say that is complimentary about them, it is that they are true to their word. When Falco decreed that not only would you not be harmed, but that you would be protected by all their kind, he meant it. No one would dare go against his word.
And now I must close. I hope to be able to write you again soon, but my letters will be short and mailed only if I am certain that it is safe. I dare not lead the Intruder back to you.
Be well, my friend. Know that I am doing what I must. See to it that the diaries are protected, and in the event of my death, or failure by other means, see to it that they are made public. For it is only then that the ignorant will have a chance.
Your friend, Dane
My heart is broken. With the reading of Dane's words near the end of his letter where he spoke of my safety, insured by Falco's word, the decree of the Father of them all that I shall be protected always by his kind ... That this could only have been made possible by that which my Nik gave up in exchange. Within the diaries this pact was made. Nik handed himself over body and soul to them, specifically to Madeline, that I would be spared their touch. Falco, the apparent gentleman, took it a step further by proclaiming that I fall under their protection as well.
If Nik did as they wanted.
He did, and it must be ... It must be that as long as he remains true to his word so shall they remain true to theirs. I am surprised that Dane, in his letter to me, gave no indication that this is why Nik does not seek contact with us. With me. It is because he cannot. He would be violating the pact he made with them. This would surely result in their exacting revenge upon him, and the best way to do that would be to harm me. Nik stays away to protect us. To be true to his word to them so that they remain true to theirs.
I cannot allow this!
It is horrific enough that he has been changed into this thing that cannot walk by day. That he must kill to live. That he has been made to give up all he ever loved. But that he is forced to endure their company and suffer at their hands the debased and wretched games they play to take the tedium out of their eternal boredom ... I cannot allow it!
I am barely able to swallow the fact that I lost him the moment Madeline laid her eyes on him. But it is true and I must accept it and go on. That his passion was something she skillfully manipulated, taking him to the point where he could never return to me the person he was tells me nothing that I did not already know was possible. For it was his passion that drew me to him in the first place. And I knew that someday it may draw him from me to another. But this Madeline ... she did not play fair. She did not play on the human level. Nik never had a chance. But in her lust to own him entirely she did not stop to consider the consequences of taking things as far as she did. By making him a vampire she played a dangerous game. One that it appears she has lost. From what Dane writes he may be more powerful even than she. What she took from him so treacherously, she in effect handed back to him tenfold when she made him drink from her.
Yet he is bound to them, to her, by his word that must remain unbroken least I suffer.
No.
I must find Nik and tell him that I would rather die! June 16, 1996
It is mid-afternoon on my first day in Las Vegas. How I hate it. How I hate it! I have not even been here 24 hours and I want to leave. I have not even set about searching out the terrible haunts that I know I must to find Dane, and yet I've seen things unspeakable. Unimaginable! I wonder that my somnambulistic existence was not quite so bad....
But let me get to things in order. My arrival....
Las Vegas is not as I imagined it would be. Oh, not the beautiful jewel that I first saw from some twenty miles away. The night deceives, especially in the desert. Coming up over the horizon the splendor and thrill of the brilliant lights that seemed close enough to reach out and touch were a welcome beacon at first. But once I entered the city I could feel how alien, how positively corrupt and vile it was. Driving down the Strip I traveled in five minutes only one block. The traffic was thick with cars, sightseers and pedestrians who acted as though they were at Disneyland, rather than a city riddled with crime. (The traffic signals so long that one could literally make better time walking than driving). It seemed that the only vehicles to make any headway at all were the taxi cabs and hotel shuttle buses. My watch read 2:30 a.m. and the streets were filled. I could not imagine what it must be like during the day. How did anyone drive? How did anyone keep an appointment? My car began to overheat. I turned off the air and rolled the windows down, letting in the hot, hot night air. 2:30 in the morning and it had to be 100 degrees still. And so strange to see people awake and full of energy at this hour. And so many people.
Within this one block and five minutes time I was witness to the wealthy in all their finery, champagne glasses in hand ... and to the impoverished who carried all their worldly goods in shopping carts slung with plastic ..garbage bags. One woman to my right struggled to get her cart around a particularly elated group of people who were blocking most of the sidewalk. They seemed impervious to the woman's plight as she tried to get the cart around them on the three good wheels it possessed. The fourth was bent inward and jammed with string. I watched the woman move first to the inward side of the walk and then to the outward. Seeing that neither way afforded her a wide enough passage, she merely pulled her cart to the side and stood, waiting for the crowd to move on. From the look on her face it didn't seem like she had even thought to consider begging their pardon so that they might part to let her through. And the crowd, I knew they saw her. But she was not important. Not worth the trouble. Definitely not what they had come to this city to experience. So they simply pretended that she wasn't there. A moment later a well dressed man and woman approached. The crowd parted easily, instinctively. Courteously. The cart lady saw her opportunity and made her move, but before she could master control of her cart and gain the necessary momentum, the crowd came together again, and least she veer into them, she pulled hard to the left, and toward the street. Her frail arms could not pull hard or strong enough to compensate for the forward motion. The front wheels bumped down the curb and into the street followed by the bad left rear wheel, and the entire thing spilt over on its side. The woman's possessions tumbled out as she cried. The crowd turned to look at the mess, a few of them smirking and laughing. Others screwing their faces up at the sight of the woman as she wailed in the street, down on her knees in the gutter, hoarding after her belongings, screaming at people to get back! To stay back and keep their hands to themselves! She did not seem to realize that no one was near, indeed no one had any intentions of helping her, let alone stealing her things. The street signal changed and slowly the line of cars ahead of me began to move. The woman looked up at me at the last moment, her eyes a sickly yellow where there should have been white. Her skin was so dirty that it looked like she wore a cake foundation of mud. Her hair was blonde, I think, and her eyes blue. They were young eyes. I looked at her hands, they too were young. And then I noticed the small infant strapped to her front, peeking out from under her triple layered sweaters. My stomach gave a violent turn. The infant was so pale, ashen around its eyes and lips, its tiny arms hanging limp between the straps that held it to the woman, its head lolling to one side. I feared it dead. I wondered if it were hers, or just another treasure she had lifted from a garbage dumpster. And the woman, she was still looking at me, her yellow rimmed blue eyes piercing through me, challenging me to do or say something, take some action. Make a remark. Anything besides sitting there safe and comfortable in my car with my clean clothes and fresh washed hair and manicured nails. I felt chills run up my back and down my arms and legs. Perspiration dampened the palms of my hands. The woman's lips parted, as though she were going to speak, but then thought better of it and instead smiled at me, revealing horribly decayed and rotting teeth. She brought one hand up to pat the baby's back, then held out the other one to me. Her smile was wicked! Though her eyes begged cleverly, I could not shake the evil that emanated from her. The baby jostled in the sling as her hand patted its back too roughly, making its arms and legs bounce and its head to bob until it fell back unnaturally limp. I knew then that the small infant was dead! The depravity of the situation hit me. This woman, this vile demented creature carried a dead baby with her, trying to fool people into handing more money than they would otherwise be moved to do! I felt an acidic taste rise immediately in my throat. My mouth went absolutely dry and I began shaking uncontrollably. The woman, seeing that my hands had not left my steering wheel to dig in my pocket bag for change, turned away and went back to her clean-up efforts. The smile vanished. Her sweaters fell forward once more to conceal the small body, and the traffic began to clear. Behind her people streamed out of a casino. My leg felt numb as I moved to step on the gas. I felt numb all over, and sick. Sick to death of this wretched city and I'd barely just arrived. All I wanted was to get to my hotel room.
I took a deep breath and steadied my nerves. It would not be much longer and I would be safe with my door locked.
My hotel was a daily/weekly accommodation with fully furnished rooms, a kitchen, phone, cable TV, pool and sauna, work-out room, and utilities paid. It was located a short distance from the main hub of the town, out on Boulder Highway. I need only travel down the Strip until I reached Sahara Blvd., turn right and keep going until I saw the huge pink, orange and yellow sign standing three stories high marking my refuge. The Boulder Cortege was part of a large chain of hotels in the Las Vegas area, catering to those people who require apartment-like accommodations, but none of the hassles of leases, first and last month's rent, credit checks and so forth. They were a highly successful chain and had come recommended by the travel agent I booked all my travel through. I asked for a place off the beaten path, yet still within a reasonable distance to the strip and downtown areas. A low profile, yet clean and respectable establishment where I could stay for as many or as few days as I liked, and where my privacy would be respected. The brochures sat on my dash as I made my way slowly down the strip toward Sahara. Also on the dash were several maps that I'd consulted on my way down from Wyoming. On the seat next to me were my acquisitions from the gift shop on the very edge of town. It is one of the first buildings as you come in off the desert, and I knew that it was as good a place as any to pick up newspapers and entertainment guides which would list the various night spots, both famous and not so famous. The proprietor was kind enough to direct me to the free local paper rack which held many new age, new wave and alternative lifestyle publications. I took one of each up to the counter, added to this a local yellow pages directory, and anything else that looked like it might advertise night clubs. I also bought some bottled water, a loaf of bread, sugar, coffee and creamer, and some other small items to stock the little kitchen.
But then, after driving down the strip and seeing the woman and her dead baby, eating anything at all was the last thing on my mind. I thought I should try to stop, to report it to the police. But something made me reconsider this. I imagined they would laugh at me, ask me if I was sure it was not a doll that the woman used. For it seemed more and more ridiculous to me as I drove. How could anyone have gotten away with such an awful thing? Surely I was not the first to notice her and her strange burden. What of all the people who were much closer to her there on the sidewalk? If the child was dead ... surely there would have been a terrible odor ... or ... something! Certainly I was not the only person to see the child ... or doll....
Suddenly I could no longer think about it, I could not bear to consider any of it! It was so late, I'd been driving for so long. I needed to sleep. Just to sleep.
And now, as I sit writing, the events of the early morning seem like a dream. The woman, the baby, the glittering lights, all of it a dream. The light of day shines through my window now, slanting beams through the blinds. Beyond is the sparkling pool, the beautiful little garden areas with chaises and umbrellas. There is a lifeguard sitting up high in his chair, a swipe of Zinc Oxide across his nose and a pair of Ray Bans over his eyes. He is keeping watch over what I have determined is a group of people traveling together. Four families made up of husbands, wives and their children. There are two pairs of older people, the grandparents no doubt, and at the moment all are enjoying the refreshing water. Mothers with their children splash in the water. The men sit like great beasts in their chairs, observing, as they discuss the night's activities. The two grandmothers are in the garden, one crocheting the other reading a magazine. The grandfathers are strolling about slowly, straw hats on their balding heads and socks with their sandals. One smokes a pipe, he reminds me of my own grandfather.
Such a normal, peaceful scene. For a moment my mission is faraway, nearly forgotten. But, just to the right of my diary lies one of the newspapers I'd picked up. It is entitled Vent, and within it are lists to alternatives to the lifestyle taking place pool side that I'd never imagined possible. I'd poured over all the material I'd picked up over breakfast, and it was not until I opened this one that I felt some sense of hope, and of urgency. There were many, many pages devoted to personal ads, and a great part of this was taken up with B&D and S&M listings. Most of them were silly. Some were frightening. And then there was a special one that seemed to stand out alone in all its simplicity:
"For those who enchant.
For those who succumb to the wonder.
A place for us."
There was a phone number listed, which I called. An answering machine picked up and requested that any interested party may leave their name and phone number, and a brief message. All calls would be answered, the voice stated, but no time frame was given. I decided to stay in my room, passing my time writing, the TV humming low in the background, blending with the lull of the air conditioner. I have been sitting here at the dinette window for hours now. My phone has been idle. But I know it will ring, and I know what I will say.
Later....
I must write quickly for my call has finally been returned and I have precious little time to waste. It was close to eight o'clock when I was awakened by the shrill ring by my bedside. The voice on the other end of the line was deep, smooth, and female. (I had left my first name only, with a message stating that I was interested in exploring life, limits, and one particular aspect of human nature that had always intrigued me. Submission.)
"My name is Feral," the voice said. "And I'd like to extend an invitation to you to meet with myself for evaluation."
"An evaluation?"
"Yes. It is required of anyone wishing to gain admittance at the club. We are a private organization, and only a certain type of clientele is accepted."
I thought for a moment, the silence on the other end of the line uncomfortable to me, but I knew that this was, as well, an evaluation.
"Very well, if that is what is required," I answered with as much coolness as I could. "Where shall we meet and at what time?"
"For our comfort as well as yours, a public place is always best. Are you familiar with the area at all?"
I explained that this was my first visit, but that I was good at directions. Perhaps I came off just the slightest bit haughty, but that was good. I didn't want to appear too eager, too easy to push.
"Green Valley," Feral said smoothly. "There is a cafe not 15 minutes from where you are staying. Take Boulder Highway to Sunset Road and turn right. Follow it until it turns into Mountain Vista. Turn left and you will be on Sunset again. After a long block you will see a plaza with sidewalk fountains. Dancing waters ... quite lovely at night. Nine o'clock will do."
I started to ask the name of the cafe but a click on the other end of the line stopped me mid-sentence. Quickly I scribbled down the directions, the words "dancing waters", then raced to get ready. Fifteen minutes to get there means I have only a half hour to get ready.
June 17th
I found the turn off onto Sunset with no trouble. The directions were simple enough, and when I saw the fountains there was no mistaking the place. Only there were several cafes!
I parked my car and walked to the courtyard situated in the middle of the plaza. Through the shooting founts of water I counted 6 cafes in all. I'd no idea of which was the right one, nor did I know what to do other than look from face to face. But who was I looking for?
I became keenly aware suddenly that I was being watched. That Feral was at that precise moment watching me. In fact, I felt more than one pair of eyes on me. But how did they know what I looked like? How would they pick me out of the crowd?
I took a seat at one of the small white wrought iron tables bordering on the perimeter of the fountains. The courtyard was not as busy as it seemed it should be on this warm night. Just a few children under the watchful eyes of their parents, darting in and out of the shooting streams, laughing and screaming happily. It was a normal, comfortable scene and I myself began to relax. Between the sound of the water, the happy children, the delicious aromas wafting from the cafes, and the cozy heat of the desert night, I felt the muscles in my back and shoulders ease.
A waiter came up to me, and inquired if I would like to see a menu or if he could get me something to drink. He was young and bright eyed and quite charming when he smiled. I ordered an iced tea and watched him as he walked towards one of the cafes, blushing to myself when I realized that I was watching his backside and found him to be quite lovely to look at. A wave of guilt shot through me. I thought of Nik.
When the young man brought my iced tea he set it carefully before me and asked if I'd like to see a menu. I looked up into his eyes, studied his handsome, youthful face and tousled brown hair. He was incredibly beautiful, and something deep inside me stirred; something that I had not felt in so many months. I felt a knot in my throat, my heart began to pound stronger in my chest. The scent of him fell over me.
"Ma'am?" he said, and from the way he said it I could tell that he'd been talking to me.
"I'm sorry, what did you say?" I asked, feeling my cheeks flush and hoping that he did not notice how stunned I'd been.
"Would you like to see a menu?" he asked, and smiled again.
"Oh, no. Not just yet. I'm meeting someone. Perhaps a little later?"
"Yes, Ma'am, just give me a wave."
He turned to leave but I put out a hand to stop him, catching his forearm with my fingertips.
"My name is Jenna," I said. "Ma'am sounds a little too formal."
He smiled once again, this time exposing perfect, white teeth. "I'm Paul," he said gently.
As I sat sipping my iced tea I watched as Paul went from one table to the next, his angelic features mesmerizing one patron after another. I had not noticed that a woman had sat down across the table from me.
Startled that I'd been so taken away from the events going on around me, I nearly let the glass slip from my fingers. I stared at her, she was not what one would call beautiful, but she was so unique in her appearance as to be termed stunning. Her hair was jet black and very short. It shone so much and so richly that it had a blue cast to it, one that matched the deep blue of her eyes. Her mouth was full and a deep earth shade which was her natural coloring. Her skin was smooth and clear, I could not detect one imperfection in its satiny finish. She did not require the use of makeup to conceal or highlight. It was difficult to tell her height as I'd not seen her approaching, but she did not appear to be tall. Her frame was petite. The wrists of her small hands were delicate. She looked purposefully into my eyes as she spoke:
"I am Feral," she said, her voice just as deep and smooth as it had been over the phone. "I hope you haven't been waiting too long."
"Oh, no, just a few minutes. But how did you know...."
"The company was to your liking, I hope?"
Changing the subject skillfully, she smiled and nodded toward Paul who was waiting a table several yards from us. I felt in that instant that she'd sensed my attraction to him.
I decided to press.
"How did you know who I was?" I asked, leveling my eyes with her own.
"That is always the easy part, Jenna. People such as yourself, new to the life, only just beginning the journey are very easy to spot. It shows on your face, in your movements. How you hold yourself."
Her eyes roamed over me then, from the top of my head to waist level, my arms, my hands, all that was visible to her. Her eyes came to rest at my breasts as though she could see through the material of my blouse, and a strange sensation shot through me. I felt embarrassment tinged with excitement. I'd never had a woman looking at me that way before. She turned her dark eyes up to my mouth then and kept it there.
"So it was our ad that enticed you?" she questioned, keeping here eyes on my mouth as I answered.
"Yes. I am looking for a certain club, and your ad seemed to me the best one to call to locate it."
Feral sighed and sat back in her chair, crossing her arms, her eyes looking up into mine once more.
"And which club would that be?" she asked, a smile turning up one corner of her mouth.
"The Scarlet Ochre," I said softly, watching the barely perceptible reaction to her eyes, which seemed to grow darker at the name.
"And what makes you interested in them?"
"I am looking for a friend," I stated, and in that moment I knew that if I tried to dodge the inevitable, or color my words with anything but the whole truth I would be stopped in my tracks. I had to trust her.
"His name is Nik, and he dropped out of sight about 6 months ago. I know he was involved with the club, very much a part of the lifestyle by this point, and...."
"And you wish to see your lover once more?" Her words shocked me.
"Yes," I replied.
"You wish to see Nik, just once more, even though you know he is lost to you? Why?"
Her voice enchanted. I felt the urge to embrace her, but none of the shame that I should associate with the urge.
"To talk to him," I began slowly, as though the words were leaving me of their own volition. 'To tell him that he does not have to do this for me."
"Do what, Jenna?"
Deeper and deeper I felt myself being pulled into those hypnotic eyes. "He ... he does not have to ... "
"What, Jenna?"
I felt myself falling. My will rushing from me until my trust in her was complete and final.
"He ... they made him into a vampire!" I whispered. "He is bound to them by a promise he made to protect me."
"Yes ... it is so." Feral said, and for the first time her eyes left me and looked off across the courtyard. She was looking at someone, I knew. She nodded slowly at them, then looked back at me once more, her gaze this time touched with some little sympathy that I could not place.
"I only want to tell him that he does not have to uphold his pact with them any longer." I added.
"Yes, because you love him and you cannot bear to think of him enslaved to them so completely."
"Yes!" I said and sat forward, my hands clenched on the table top between us. "They took so much from him already by bringing him over into their fold! Why must he suffer under their cruel physical torture as well! The object of their sadistic sexual pastime!"
My heart was pounding, my anger slicing through the hypnotic haze.
"My dear, you would not be alive right now if he hadn't." Feral said slowly. "Nor would your friend, Dane. But then, that is part of the story neither you or Dane know."
"Please," I pleaded. "Please tell me what you know!"
"In due time. First I would like you to come with me. I shall explain the things you need to know to pursue your quest; supply you with that you will need if you are to succeed."
What choice had I? If I did not go with her I knew I would never see her again. My one link would be no more and I would be left waiting for some word from Dane. Word that may never come. Everyone I loved most in this world lost to me.
I laid a five dollar bill on the table and anchored it down with my half empty glass, and I left with her.
THREE
Jenna's Diary June 17, 1996
I followed Feral in my jeep, staying back the necessary car lengths, keeping to the speed limit. Paul rode beside her. With a look Feral had succeeded in picking him up, enticing him away from his job and into her truck despite the fist waving protestations of his boss.
We drove down Sunset back in the direction I'd come, but turned right heading in yet a new direction. A freestanding granite marker that read "Green Valley" caught my eye. It bordered the northern most boundary of the area. Driving through this somewhat affluent neighborhood was a marked contrast to the lights and glitz and pseudo-glamour of Las Vegas. And it contrasted sharply with Los Angeles where I'd lived for the last ten years. That is, minus the last six months. No, I don't want to write about the last six months. I don't want to think about it. But Los Angeles, yes, how different this little town seemed.
Driving up the winding road we were suddenly within a neighborhood. And at 10 o'clock at night people were walking down the sidewalks casually. Whether walking dogs, walking with another or walking by themselves, they were doing so calmly. Unafraid. And from what I could tell unarmed. They were happy, carefree. Worry did not furrow their brows or hasten their step. They felt safe. So unlike the streets of Los Angeles where even in the best of neighborhoods one was taking a gamble to walk a few blocks on a pleasant evening.
We drove for just a few minutes before turning left and into a subdivision of huge houses which surrounded a manmade lake. The houses each boasted a small pier and expansive lawn lit with Malibu lights, all beautifully landscaped. We drove round until Feral pulled into a driveway. There were mature weeping willows in the front yard, no doubt brought in at enormous expense, and flower beds lush with blooms. She pulled her car into the garage when it opened. I stopped my car in the middle of the driveway and got out.
"Please, Jenna, come this way," she said, and taking Paul by his hand she opened a door which led into the house. Paul smiled sweetly at her as he went in, casting a look back over his shoulder at me, perhaps to see if I were following.
I was.
Once inside Feral closed the door and bid us follow her. We'd entered through a large laundry room which opened onto a long hallway. It was dark, but not so dark I could not see. Paul walked behind me, his hand on my shoulder briefly, but once our eyes adjusted to the dark I felt his fingertips fall away.
The hallway led to a large family room complete with wet bar, billiard table and gaming area. The room was very comfortable and elegant at the same time, speaking of wealth, and an affinity for the best things in life. Tiffany stained glass lamps dotted the table tops and hung over the billiard table. Real ones. The finest maple paneling -lined the walls and made up the inlaid flooring. Leather sofas and wing back chairs littered the room providing ample seating for at least 20 people, and the floor to 13 foot ceiling mirrored backed shelves behind the bar were stocked with the finest labels. I would soon learn that price was something the owner of this house did not split hairs over.
Paul could not help but cast a last look over his shoulder at the contents of the room as we were led out and into another hallway. It was a man's room and pulled at him as toys pull at a little boy.
"Here we are," Feral said, stepping aside and holding her arm out to grant us passage. Paul and I stepped into a room huge enough to be a ballroom, but which was merely the living room of the house. The back wall was entirely of glass panes, some beautifully etched with renderings of flowers, irises, bird-of-paradise, and lilies. French doors led off onto the backyard which I could not see clearly for there were no lights. The houses on the other side of the lake rose like jeweled sentinels on the horizon. And within the room, oh, it was too lovely to be real! White suede sofas and chairs. White silk, brocade and satin. Crystal chandeliers and table lamps. Potted ferns and palms in ornately decorated Chinese vases. Gilt and crystal candelabrum, some boasting twenty tapers and standing taller than I. The floor underfoot was white marble with very faint gold veins. I could not see a seam anywhere! Paul and I did-as Feral, taking our shoes off and leaving them at the doorway.
The marble was cold on the soles of my feet, sending a shiver up my spine. Feral led us to the far end of the room and offered us a seat on a sofa near the grand piano. She took the chair across from us, sitting back comfortably, her arms resting at her sides and her legs crossed. Her short summer dress revealed much of her tanned legs, which Paul could not help staring at. Feral was truly lovely, and so self-confident that she did not blush or embarrass at the young man's obvious fascination with her.
"Jenna, I have brought you here for one reason. And you, Paul, for quite another," she said, casting a provocative gaze Paul's way. They held each other's eyes for a long moment, then Feral reached over to the side table and pressed a button on a little box. Almost immediately someone entered from the far end of the room, a woman, rather plain in appearance and dress. Her dishwater blonde hair was pulled back in a neat bun at the back of her head, and she wore no makeup. Her dress was a black broadcloth smock with elbow length sleeves and of a modest knee length, totally devoid of any ornamentation or flattering lines. I took her to be a servant.
"Yes, Ma'am," she said with a German accent, stopping at Feral's side.
"Greta, take Paul and see to it that he is happy with his rooms. Get him whatever he needs."
"Yes, Ma'am," Greta said with a little nod to her head. "Sir, if you would follow me, please?"
Paul rose, excusing himself from our company, and followed Greta. Feral turned to me.
"Lovely boy, no?" she asked.
"Well, yes, he is," I stammered.
"But he has nothing to do with why I brought you here, Jenna. Not directly."
I felt within myself a sudden sense of urgency.
"Feral, time is rather critical. I do appreciate your coming to meet me, your bringing me to your home ... but we must talk. From our brief conversation at the cafe it is apparent that you are familiar with Nik. With the Scarlet Ochre ... the Family."
"Yes," she said, shifting slightly in her chair.
"You also said that you would explain things that I needed to know."
"Yes."
Her calmness was starting to irritate me. "I will be quite frank with you. I came here because I have learned that Falco has opened another club, a home for his family. I need to find it. The ad in the paper drew me; it seemed the only possibility out of the many that I read. I reach you and the more I am around you the more I...."
Feral held up her hand to stop me. "Come with me," she said and stood.
We went outside and around the side of the house. Or should I use the term Mansion? For that is truly what it was. We walked along a flagstone pathway and came upon a pool. Feral switched the lights on and showing no signs of modesty whatsoever, slipped her dress off to reveal her naked body. She turned and walked down the pool steps into the water. When she was waist high on the middle step, she held her arms out and dove in. I watched her wavering form under the water as she swam the length and the pool and back, resurfacing finally ... changed! Gone was the deep golden tan and instead the purest white skin! Her lips were even more remarkable, the earthen color tinged red now. She ascended the steps and stood before me. The nipples of her small perfect breasts were hard and nearly the color of her lips. I looked in her eyes and I knew instantly at the sight of the lights that played there that she was a vampire!
Back inside the mansion I sipped the brandy Greta had brought me, my arms and legs shaking. I watched her now, out on the patio drying Feral and helping her into a plush aqua marine chenille robe. It didn't even enter my mind that I should flee while I had the chance. Somehow I knew that I was in no immediate danger; that this danger in fact, was targeted more to Paul who was somewhere in the mansion unaware of the fate to befall him.
Feral came in and resumed her chair, her hair damp still and combed back neatly from her face. I helped myself to another brandy, refilling my glass before joining her.
"Now that we have this out of the way, we will talk," she said. "You know that you are safe from me. You are to be protected at all costs, as decreed by the Father. Even though I am estranged from the Family at present, my adherence to our universal moral code is unwavering."
Her estrangement from the family!
"You are among an elite and very small group of mortals who are under the protection of all Vampyre."
"Yes," I said, guilt slashing through me, for I knew at what cost this protection came.
"And even as you have come to me for help, so do I ask for yours."
I stared at her for a long moment, my eyes taking in the smooth, white skin and iridescent dark blue eyes. "What help could I possibly be to you, Feral?"
She sat up straight then, uncrossing her legs and smoothing out the chenille across her lap. Her lips parted slightly to reveal the very tips of her too white teeth. "I want the one known as Grayling."
I began to speak but she silenced me quickly by holding her hand up. "Please, you need not say anything at this time. Your decision to help me, or not, will come later. After I have shown you the way to your lover. Truly, you are the only one who may release him, but first you must learn a few things. You must learn the proper attitude with which to approach them. This I can teach you."
I didn't understand what she meant. Proper attitude?
"I shall explain," she said, as though she'd read my mind. "You must learn the ways of a true submissive. To get near Falco. To convince him that you have truly chosen the Life and all it has to offer."
"But how could I ever convince him of such a thing when I am so aghast at the very idea?"
"There is a way, Jenna. With my help you shall be able to fool any of them, but only for a time. Infused with my blood...."
I shot up off the sofa, dropping my empty brandy glass on the floor where it shattered in a thousand pieces. "Your blood!" I nearly screamed. "What is all this? Some ploy to gather me into your own perverted little Family! Of course, with my permission you would not be going against anything the Father set forth!" My words were hung with a bitter sarcasm that I did not know I was capable of. Feral's eyes narrowed and anger crossed her brow. Though she moved to stand, she settled back in the chair instead.
"You seek your lover, to free him from the immoral servitude he now suffers. I seek reinstatement in the Family; the place that was mine before it was taken from me by lies and treachery. I offer my blood to you for the power it will give you to accomplish this task, nothing else!"
Truly, she was bitterly offended by my accusations. I sat back down and searched her face. I told myself again that I had to trust her. She was my only link, my only way to find Nik.
"I'm sorry, I was just shaken by what you said."
"My dear, you can do nothing else but trust me. Though what I must teach you will seem to you so far removed from what you know in life, still, it is with your best interest at heart that I teach you. Without my help you will never get near them. They will see right through you."
"But you ask as well for Grayling. Why?"
Feral's eyes slowly grew round again, the angriness waned to something close to sadness. "In time you will learn. For now I must ask you, will you trust me? Or shall we part ways now."
Her tone was final. There was to be no more discussion on the matter. I thought of what I'd read in the diaries.
"I will trust you. I have no choice."
"Very well. Then we shall start immediately. You will first observe what it is that will be required of you. Then you will experience it firsthand. That is, if you are still willing."
"Feral, I know only that there is no freedom, no sanctuary for me as long as Nik suffers at their hands. It is one thing that he is Vampyre now, and lost to me forever. Of that I can do nothing. But it is an entirely different matter that he must subjugate himself to them, debased, a plaything in their filthy hands. Even cruder is the fact that he was made so strong, superior to them all! I love him and that love transcends my own need for self-preservation. I cannot owe my safety from these creatures to the eternity of hell that lies before him. I must go to him so that he can hear with his own ears my words; look into my eyes to see the truth. I will do whatever is necessary, be assured of that. In whatever way this may help you in your own personal endeavors, so be it. Whatever price I must pay myself is more than fair, even if it means my own death."
My words touched something in her cold, hard vampire's heart. A single tear stood in each of her eyes.
"I have not thought," she said slowly and deliberately, her voice a veil of sadness which fell over her and filled the room like mist, "of what is was like to be mortal ... and in love ... for three hundred years. In the space of the last three weeks time I have felt it stab at my heart twice. First when I met Nik. And now, with you.
She led me through the door on the far wall, beyond the grand piano. A doorway it seemed that was little used, leading to the middle of the mansion. We descended several short flights of stairs, only three steps down at a time, into a subterranean level. It felt cold, though not damp. The air here, as it is everywhere in this desert, was dry. At first it seemed a normal enough place. But as the lights were lit one by one, and not electric lights but oil lamps, candles, and wall sconces, the interior took on an almost ghastly appearance. I say almost ghastly because even with the eerie shadows that were cast, and the ancient furniture, most of it dating back to the Renaissance period (though I am not knowledgeable on antiques I can not say if they were authentic). There was a surreal beauty to the place. A timelessness and elegance quite different from the rest of the mansion, something that spoke of history and tradition. A dusty ancient atmosphere such as one might feel upon entering a centuries old Cathedral, or museum. Or mausoleum.
I watched as Feral lit one form of light after another until the huge room was filled with a natural golden illumination; one that made her appearance more human than not, giving her some color in her skin and toning down the deep blue cast to her raven hair. I was quite mesmerized by this new vision of her, and had not some little movement to the left caught my eye, I may have stared at her for several more moments before taking note of what sort of room, exactly, I was standing in.
The movement was Paul entering through the doorway we had just moments before come through. With him were Greta, and two young girls, pretty girls, but not nearly so pretty as Feral. I felt a little surge of excitement to realize that I was much prettier than they. And then I looked beyond them, to the sides, behind me, and finally to Feral who stood now at my side.
"This is a dungeon!" I whispered, turning my eyes once again to sweep around the room. Iron manacles hung from the walls. Racks, pallets, grand wooden tables with restraining straps, cages, chains hanging down from the ceiling, some with bars slung between them, and all manner of device upon the walls. Whips, floggers, riding crops, bull whips, in every conceivable range of weight and texture. Many items I could not place or name, but they were devices of torture nonetheless, of that I was positive.
"Of course it is, my dear," Feral purred softly in my ear. "I enjoy the same tastes as my estranged family, though my tendencies lean toward the female more so than the male. And I am something of the voyeur, as you will see. These two young ladies are from my household and are here to entertain my male guest for the evening; a 'prelude to the night" I like to call it. And, on this night, a prelude to what you, dear child, will experience."
Feral strode regally over to a large throne-like chair made of heavy dark wood and plush velvet of a color red so pure and rich that the chair appeared to waver slightly before my eyes, pulling in and out of focus, growing nearer and then further away. When she sat down in it the effect encompassed her as well! She seemed to grow, though not so much in stature as in intensity, in depth. "Please, Jenna, come and sit with me. Here, on these pillows." She motioned to several matching cushions at the foot of her chair. Almost dreamily I approached, and as I sank down into their downy embrace, I felt myself stir at being so near to her. Her scent, which was at once fresh and sweet, had to it an undertone of bitterness, such as the under-scent of rust. Somehow I enjoyed the smell.
"Now watch, and pay close attention to them. They are quite adept at what they do."
I followed her gaze to the center of the room where Paul stood, one girl on either side of him. Greta approached with two collars in her hands, and handed them one at a time to Paul, so that he could fasten them around the girl's necks. He did so carefully, unsure of what he was doing and being careful not to harm them. They giggled at his clumsiness, but a harsh look from Greta silenced them. She turned to Paul and told him to undress them, as little or as much as he wanted. He cast a glance over at us, at Feral, and she nodded.
"This is certainly not what he expected, Jenna. You see, Paul is a good boy for the most part. He attends college by day and works at that little cafe in the evenings. He is majoring in music; a very fine pianist indeed, I have watched him from afar for some time now, and have decided that I will help him attain his full potential."
I watched Paul carefully unbutton the first girl's blouse down to her waist, pushing it off her shoulders followed by her bra straps.
"You have known him long?" I inquired, my heart beginning to beat a little faster.
"No, I have only just met him. In person. But I know his mind. I have seen him play many times at recitals at the University. He possesses the true spirit of a musician. He has the determination and love of a true master. I have a philanthropic bent, you see, and Paul is my newest and latest interest. I can offer him much, and he can provide me with the music I so love. This is all part of it, Jenna. I want you to see that there is more to our lifestyle than torture and killing and prurient satisfaction."
Paul was removing the girl's skirt now, letting it fall down around her ankles, exposing her garter belt and stockings, and that bare, soft skin between the two. He decided that he liked her in this state of undress, and so turned to the other girl who'd been watching with hungry eyes. This one he was more brazen with, removing all of her clothes quickly and with skill. It seemed that he'd lost most of the self-consciousness associated with all the eyes that watched him, and instead had entered a little world of his own device. He pushed the girls back to back and took the rope offered him by Greta, winding it tightly about their waists, pinning their arms to their sides, then tying it off snugly. Greta held out both whip and crop to him. He chose the whip, a flogger actually which boasted several two foot lengths of thick suede which ran from a thick braided handle. He took a step back and loosened the buttons at his throat, then rolled up his sleeves exposing his beautifully defined forearms.
"Paul does have quite a fixation on females, however. Strange eccentricities that he is hard pressed to assuage amid the cultural yet decidedly moral circle of friends he keeps. This I saw when I first looked into his mind. I saw how alone he was, and how I could temper that loneliness and free him to be the musician he is. And ... then there is more I can do for him."
"Keep him?" I asked. "Provide a beautiful home for him. The finest instruments. Further his education and career. Take him as a lover."
"Oh yes, I plan on those things. Even the last, though I have said that I prefer females most often, I do find that I desire a beautiful male in my arms occasionally. But there is even more I can offer him. Though I have not quite decided on that yet. For now it is enough to know that he was quite willing to take me up on my offer of some female companionship for the evening. On the ride here I let him in on my little secret; that I am a mistress with a house full of pretty young slave girls. And when I told him that I would like to watch him," she smiled broad and full and laughed slowly and very softly, "his arousal was such that even I was, in turn, aroused. I knew that under the right circumstances he could be "bought" through his sensuality. His need for those things considered by most to be ... perversions. But to him, you see, the need to dominate and inflict pleasure through pain is the natural progression of one so gifted, so influenced by those things aesthetically pleasing."
Feral grew quite silent then, her eyes riveted to Paul and the two girls. He was impassioned, literally enthralled by the two helpless, hungry females before him. His arm was drawn back, ready to let loose with the first strike. At the last moment he tore his eyes from the girls and looked to make sure, I think, that Feral was watching. She was. His arm swung around, his hand tightened around the whip, the muscles of his arm standing out remarkably clear. When leather met with flesh the sound cracked the air, making me jump at the unexpected intensity of the sound. The long leather fingers of the whip wrapped around the girls, hung for an inexplicably long moment, hugging them in its cruelly sensual grip, then finally fell away. The girls sighed, deep luxuriating sighs edged with pain. The one girl was more protected than not by the garments which hung about her, but the other had taken the full force against her bare flesh and already, even before Paul could raise his whip again, long red welts had begun to appear over the soft, smooth skin of her belly. I looked to Feral, she was transfixed! Her eyes were dreamy, not dazed, for the eyes of a vampire can never be termed as such! But dreamy, yes, filled with intense sexual excitement such as none I had ever witnessed before! And her lips, parted slightly, moist, full, the natural earthen shade of them blushed from within by the stirring of her blood! Even her cheeks flushed slightly!
Another sharp crack caused me to turn around. I saw the whip clinging to its victims about their breasts! Across their faces: pain. The whip fell away and ever so slowly the anguish across their faces turned to delight. It seemed as though they had found some special pathway through the upper layers of their pain, and were allowed to enter an area of forbidden delights!
"Do you feel it, Jenna? In the air, their ... their...."
"Their sensuality," I finished for her, and yes it was true. I could literally smell it on their air; their excitement, the thrill racing through their bodies. Their sex. Feral glanced down at me and smiled a knowing smile.
"Yes, their sensuality. But more, Jenna, concentrate! Feel what they feel, the tightness of the ropes, how they press their skin, how they chafe when they draw a breath. Feel the back of the other against yours. Feel her start when the whip hits. Feel her tense as the pain envelopes." She put a hand down on my shoulder, her cold fingers closing over me firmly, yet seductively gentle. "Feel her shudder as pleasure rises above to meet her."
I tried, so very hard I tried to feel all the things she described, but it was impossible. For me to feel with the depth and intensity that she did, I, too, would have had to be Vampyre. Sitting and observing, I was only able to experience up to a certain point. I told Feral as much, and she emitted a low little laugh that only I could hear.
"Ah, but you are wrong," she said. "You can and will experience all of this and more, and you won't have to change your mortal status to do so."
I knew what she meant. She meant for me to be put into bondage with one, or perhaps both of the girls. I was not shocked. I was not moved to fear. I did not feel an overpowering urge to run screaming from the dungeon. Instead, I settled back comfortably against the pillows, and watched as Paul continued to beat them.., How can I go on to describe what next took place?
I watched, my fascination growing until I could hardly sit still. I watched as Paul delivered harder lashes to the girls, harsher, to the point of cruelty and I was amazed that, though they surely must be enduring incredible pain, they begged for more! With their cries, with their eyes, with their bodies that were covered in vicious red welts! And Paul, the more the girls pleaded with him the more dedicated he was to continue!
And ... myself. How do I describe what it was that I felt without admitting it? For isn't the act of putting something into words admission in itself. A final realization. A testimonial. Yes. I, too, begged that he give more. That they take more! And ... and I can barely write this ... I longed to be a part of it. I desired, beyond anything in that moment, to be out there in the room, that dungeon, tied so tightly that I could barely breath! I longed to feel the ropes pressing my bare skin, cutting into me, chaffing. And the whip. Yes, the scourge and bite of it as it connected with my skin. MY SKIN!
My breathing had become rapid, my pulse racing much faster. The palms of my hands were moist, my forehead, my back, damp with sweat from the heat that surged through me despite the chill of the air. I felt, too, Feral's hand on my shoulder, pressing, her cold fingers, each individual fingertip, concentrating against the material of my blouse. And her voice, coming to me though I knew her lips were not moving. I knew this because her voice was coming from inside me! ff
"You want this, I know. And it is all right. There is nothing to fear. No one to answer to except yourself. No right, no wrong. Only the moment, and it is these moments that make up our lives, that tie one to the other. Go to him. To Paul. He will know what to do...."
Her voice, so reassuring, so calm. I did not want her to stop talking to me, and she did not stop. Even as I rose up and walked slowly, cautiously, the rough stone of the floor cold and jagged against my bare feet. Her voice continued as I continued; I drew strength from her!
The two girls saw me coming, and it was jealousy that crossed their sweat soaked faces. It was a sense of threat that consumed their bodies now, threat and fear and great trepidation! I did not understand it at that time. I did not understand that it was because of me and directed at me.
Paul, as well, saw me approach and his arm, raised back and ready to strike, stopped. It wavered a moment, then came down harmlessly at his side just as his other reached out to me. His hand was palm up, his fingers extended but not stiff and straight. He was ... inviting. I watched my own hand reach out to him, as if I were watching from outside my body and from within at the same time. Detached and not detached. Feral's voice continued.
His fingertips touched mine, then slid along my fingers to my palm. When his fingers wrapped around my hand his strength filled me! Such soft hands, a pianist's hands, delicate yet strong. Warm. Sensitive. Articulate.
He pulled me close and by the look alone in his eyes I knew to fall to my knees, to bow my head, to withdraw my hand and lean down until my lips pressed the laces of his boot. I kissed him there, softly, almost urgently, the leather rough on my lips, the taste salty and strong from the polish. I felt his hands in my hair, smoothing it back until her could gather it together at the back of my neck, pulling it out of the way. His hold became firmer, my hair more tightly clenched in his fist. And then I could feel his other hand running down my back to my waist, tracing my spine a vertebrae at a time, gently, lulling me into a dreamy place in time and space where I felt safe....
But this was shattered, and all too quickly by the hands that groped at my arms, yanking me upwards even as Paul's hand pulled me by my hair. The motion was so unexpected, so forceful that I lost my breath as though I'd been thrown to land on my back. I felt myself choking, gasping for a breath of fresh air, weakened so that I could not resist the twisting of my arms behind my back. It was the woman, Greta, behind me! As Paul stood before me, his hand still in my hair, twisting, a calculated smile playing across his face as he raised the handle of his whip to my cheek and drew it slowly over my skin, down my neck. I finally managed a frantic breath just as I felt rope cinch tightly around my wrists. Greta was tying my arms behind my back!
Paul drew the handle of his whip lower still, until his fingers reached the buttons of my blouse. One by one he undid them with his thumb and index finger until the material fell apart. Greta pulled my blouse off my shoulders and down as far as it would go, to my wrists where it gathered over my hands. I could feel her breath on my back she was so close to me, and then her hands again, this time at the waist of my pants, undoing the buttons. Fear raced through me. Fear and a slight sense of revulsion at having this horrid woman undressing me. It was a sensation that would have been so much worse had not Paul been there as well. Something inside me told me that she was merely assisting him; not actually a part of what was happening, and this made it bearable. I gazed at Paul, into his eyes, watching him as he looked at my body as more and more was revealed to him. He let go of my hair and placed the whip under his arm so that both hands were free to reach inside my bra and pull my breasts up and out. His fingertips traced the sides and underneath, sending a thrill coursing though my body that made me shudder! My nipples grew hard under his thumbs as he gently rolled them round and round. As he did this, Greta eased my pants down slowly, over my hips and down mid-thigh. My skin chilled instantly when I felt the rope being drawn around my waist and then between my legs! Dry and rough, it separated me as it was tugged up firmly into place and then tied off. She pushed my pants down further, instructing me to step out of them, which I did with a strange and overpowering sense of obedience to her voice, so strong of accent, so authoritarian in its timber.
Paul bent down and kissed the skin around my nipples softly, his tongue flicking out to tease my nipples and send shock waves over the surface of my body like jolts of electricity. I felt the region between my legs flood with heat and moisture, and an incredible ache building deep within my body. I became very aware of the rope that pressed between my legs and the precision with which it had been placed. Greta's hand on my shoulder pulled my attention away from this sensation in only a minor way. Her touch was no longer repulsive, but only a minor distraction by this time.
Paul withdrew slowly and took hold of his whip by the handle once again. "I love the sight of her hair pulled back, Greta. Can you arrange something ... visually stimulating for me with this in mind?"
Greta shoved me to the left, one hand holding my bound wrists, the other steering me by my shoulder until we went several feet. Hanging down from the ceiling was a length of thin rope attached further up to a chain. Greta gathered my hair up on top of my head and wound the rope around it, tying several knots in the process. She went to the far wall and turned an iron wheel which caused the chain to move up taking the rope and my hair with it. She did not stop until I stood on my toes, balancing precariously. My scalp began to hurt almost immediately, making me forget how my wrists burned. Paul paced back and forth slowly, drawing the long leather fingers of his whip over his palm. Though I could not turn my head down to look, I could feel Greta near my legs, her hands pulling my feet apart and cold metal shackles attached first to my right, and then my left ankle! Locks snapped closed to hold them shut, and a bar suspended to them held my legs apart. Balancing became even more difficult in this position, the balls of my feet barely touching the floor! The shackles and bar were so heavy, pulling me down, putting tremendous pressure on the muscles of my legs.
Paul let the whip dangle loosely at his side as his eyes ran over my body, searching, I knew, for where he first wanted to strike! And my heart raced in anticipation! As horrible as it is now to admit it, in that moment I was filled with longing, with an inane curiosity toward the pain I knew was so close. And in only a few brief seconds I felt it, an explosion of heat, like a thousand fire ants all at once across my breasts, their stinging bites coming all at once! The heat spread out over my chest and into my shoulders and upper arms, carrying with it the sting and burn. Long red welts began to rise over my skin, sensitive to the very air! I knew that it had been my voice that cried out. My heart that thudded in my ears. My shallow and hurried breathing that wracked my body. It was my tears that stood in my eyes, blurring my vision and the movement of Feral as she stood and crossed the room, a ghostlike figure floating into place behind Paul. But how ... how could it be my body that cried out for more!
FOUR
Jenna's diary continued
How could it come from my body, these cries for more! Even as I recoiled unto myself, my legs weak beneath me, growing weaker with every lash of Paul's whip, my own voice cried out in pain. Yet another voice, one deep inside me, cried for more! Even as the rope between my legs sought to tear me apart so, too, did I feel as though my soul was torn in half, one part telling me how very wrong this was while the other convinced me of how right. As the ropes pressed and burned, so did they stimulate and seduce with their touch. My mind raced back over the passages that I'd read from Nik's diary, how he'd experienced the same, how I, when reading, could not understand how he'd been drawn deeper and deeper into the fold of these sadistic creatures. Yet there I was, falling victim to the same.
And, I don't know that it was the better part of me, but one part finally rose above the other and tried to fight. I struggled to free my wrists, twisting and pulling, my skin rubbing raw under the unforgiving ropes. And my legs, I shook them trying to throw off the heavy manacles, but these as well only scrapped my skin, clanking loudly, the padlocks rattling. The rope between my legs rubbed me harshly, threatening to put down this part of me that fought so that the part that derived pleasure could surface once again. I could feel the tender area of my anatomy between my legs was swelling. I felt heat rising and the scent of me with it. My eyes darted to Feral, she was breathing deeply of me, her eyes wild, staring at me from her position behind and slightly to the right of Paul. I watched her hands reach around him and settle over the bulge in his pants, caressing fingers trailing over the length of him which was so apparent. She carefully undid his pants and pulled him out. His cock, long and heavy in her small hand, grew harder as she stroked him. Her other hand worked to free his balls so that she could cradle them, caressing softly, working his hunger.
Greta had since freed the two girls and brought them to either side of me. They stood so close that their skin brushed mine and the heat of them enveloped me in an almost soothing manner. I could not help looking at their bodies, at their perfect skin marred with red welts. Their hands were on me suddenly, their fingertips running up and down the sides of my thighs, my waist, under my arms and down their length. My body flushed, half in embarrassment, half in excitement. Paul's whip snapped at my nipples, just barely making contact with them, yet my already tender flesh was so sensitized by this point that the very whisper of a breeze would have been agony.
"Remove her ropes Greta," Feral said, then whispered something I could not hear in Paul's ear. Greta did as she was told, releasing the rope from my waist. As it fell from between my legs a terrible ripping sensation infused the delicate tissues, to be followed within seconds by one of incredible freedom. How I could define it as freedom, when my wrists and hair were stretched overhead and my legs shackled apart below I am not certain, but this is truly the sensation that I felt. The cool air kissed at me, touching the moisture, sending delightful waves of sensuality threading through my body.
Paul and Feral moved closer to me until he was only inches away and she still behind him. Her hands undid the buttons of his shirt, exposing his beautifully defined chest and abdomen. Feral's hands moved to his nipples, to pinch them gently as she kissed his neck. His cock stood out straight and hard in front of him, the moist tip touching my stomach, filling me suddenly with guilt that I was a party to this. I had not been in such proximity to a man since last I was with Nik, and visions of his perfect body flooded my mind. Paul was beautiful, like Nik, his body exquisite, his cock so inviting. And, like Nik, Paul was clearly a very passionate, sensitive, and vulnerable young man. The desire I felt for him was tremendous and consuming despite my feelings for Nik, and I knew that it was a very fine line indeed that I was treading.
My eyes fastened on Feral's mouth as she continued to kiss Paul's neck, her tongue playing at his ear, her teeth biting playfully at his earlobe, pulling it into her mouth to suck on. I thought I could hear his heart beating, or ... perhaps it was the flurry of my own, for he had placed his hand between my legs and was running the tip of one finger through my juices, drawing it up in slow, gentle strokes. The two girls continued to caress my skin, their fingertips running over the red marks, driving the sting deep where it combined with the gloriously sensual eroticism that Paul was pulling from me. His fingertip was so soft and smooth, and without warning, concentrated on my clit vigorously, making me moan loudly. The two girls had their mouths at my breasts, sucking and biting at my nipples, intensifying the desire! I wanted him inside me! More than anything else I could think of I wanted him deep inside me, fucking me hard!
And in the precise moment that I thought that, Feral ordered the girls back. "Bring her legs up," she said. My legs, still shackled and spread, were brought up until my ankles were even with my wrists. The separator bar was secured to the manacles, leaving me to hang helpless and vulnerable. My hair was mercifully released, then Greta forced my head forward so that I could watch as Paul approached me. I could see myself, open and wet, my clit swollen from its sheath, hungry for him as he pressed the head of his cock to my opening, gathering my juices. My hips jerked, pushing me against him so that just the very tip of his cock entered me, but it was only enough to drive the insanity of my desire for him to greater depths! He pulled back slightly and rubbed his wet cock over me, up and down the length of my pussy, stopping just before he reached my clit. Again, I could not help the moans that escaped me and filled the dungeon just as my cries of pain had earlier. Skillfully he drove me further and further toward orgasm, and time and again stopped just short of delivering me. The frustration, the hunger and desire were overwhelming. My awful, awkward position was humiliating and painful. The back of my legs ached from my ankles down to my the muscles of my ass, a burning, consuming ache. And my wrists and ankles throbbed with pain as well, my weight pulling heavily. But neither of these could compare to the ache between my legs that would not be assuaged. I knew this was his intent, I knew that Feral was whispering instructions to him in his ear, her lips brushing his lobe. She was looking at me, however, her eyes filled with the same hunger that I felt, the same longing as her tongue came out to lick his neck, at that tender dip just above his collarbone. And when her lips parted further I could see her teeth. The long sharp, perfectly white teeth brushing his skin!
Paul shuddered at this touch, I felt his cock jump against me, hitting me just to the side of my clit. He moaned and turned his head slightly toward Feral, as though he meant to kiss her, but she gently turned his face back to me, whispering once again. He placed his hands on either side of my hips to hold me still and pressed his cock at my opening.
"Once," Feral said, and loud enough for me to hear. "No more than that, she is not deserving. She has yet to prove herself to you."
She kissed his neck then, her lips pulling, sucking his skin into her mouth. Her teeth bit, not hard enough to break, but hard enough to make his cock jump against me again. I felt his fingers dig into my flesh, his thumbs moving down forbiddenly close to that other part of me, pressing me there. My pussy gulped at him and he could not hold himself back any longer. Digging his fingers tighter he shoved his hips forward, ramming his cock deep inside me! My body exploded in passion as I felt him throbbing and hard and hot within my flesh! His deep moan filled me just as his cock did, and his quick, hot breaths fell over my face and my chest like fire. He was in so deep he could go no farther. The hard muscles of his abdomen pressed me as he gave a violent thrust against me, then withdrew. I let out a pitiful moan then, desperate to have him back, to feel his strength and power once again.
Instead he placed a hand at my pussy and gathered my juices into his palm. He then took hold of his cock and began to masturbate himself. One of the girls went to him quickly and knelt at his feet. She brought her face up under his balls and began licking him, moaning sweetly as she did so. The other girl, behind me now, placed her hands on my ass and held me still, her fingertips pulling the folds of my pussy open to him. Feral had him in her embrace, her mouth poised over the side of his throat, her teeth bared, her eyes glowing as she stared at me, and then she lowered her mouth to his neck. I watched as her teeth sunk easily into his silky skin. I watched his eyes go wide with wonder as he quickened. Feral pressed further and her cheeks hollowed as she began to pull on his blood. Paul put one arm behind him, pulling Feral closer to him and moaned from his soul, his pleasure, his ecstasy, his voice cracking sweetly as his orgasm reached its height and he came. The thick, hot milk splattered onto my pussy with great force, spurt after spurt, with every jerk of his hand against his burning flesh! And Feral, she pulled on him so, drinking of him so deeply that he began to pale. But still that look of wonder, of complete bliss was written in his eyes, in his every feature. His moans became softer and his hand fell away from his cock, though it was still so very hard, still throbbing! The girl at his feet took it into her mouth, hungry and desperate, as I was. Paul's cum was thick on me, running slowly down me, dripping from my ass. The girl behind me laughed gently in my ear as Paul's excitement rose once again, driven by the girl's mouth on his cock, and Feral's feasting at his throat. He came again, the girl sucking fervently at him, pulling his cum from him in the same erotic manner that Feral pulled his blood!
I could take no more of it! I began to thmsh wildly, begging for release, for him, but the girl behind me only laughed again, digging the nails of her fingers into my delicate flesh, scourging me further! The pain and humiliation was unbearable, yet I'd no choice but to hang there at their mercy. And indeed, they left me there long after they were finished with Paul. He lay in the corner on a chaise, propped against pillows in the shadows. I could not tell if he were alive or not, he was so pale.
Feral sat once again upon her throne-like chair, the two girls at her feet, their cheeks resting against the sides of her knees, their knees up and legs spread as they pleasured themselves with cock-shaped vibrators that Feral had allowed them to have. Watching them was not quite as agonizing as it had been to be teased by Paul, but it was difficult enough. I'd tried as best I could to try and think other thoughts, and being uncertain as to Paul's fate helped. If he was dead, that meant that I had played a part in it. What would I do? What could I do?
Each in their turn, the girls climaxed, then left with orders from Feral as to their chores the next day. I had no idea of what time it was, but I felt it had to be near dawn. Feral would have to retire to her coffin, or whatever vampires used in this day and age, or at least this is what I was thinking at the time.
Once the girls had gone, Greta appeared from out of the shadows and helped me down. My legs hurt so that I could not stand, and had to be helped over to a chaise near where Paul lay. Greta brought me a beautiful floor length silk robe, and helped me into it. My arms felt as if they were not even attached; all I could feel of them, in fact, was the terrible pain shooting through my muscles as my circulation returned to them.
"You will be fine," Greta said, tying the sash around my waist. "Once you've been bathed you will rest until our Mistress calls for us."
I knew this meant the following evening but said nothing to her. I wanted her to leave. I certainly did not want her to bathe me or lay one hand on me. Returned now was the repulsion I had felt originally at her touch. In fact, all of my original feelings were returning to me now that I was away from Feral. I assured Greta that I would bathe myself if only she would tell me where I may do so. Reluctantly she led me through a doorway which opened on a lavish bathroom. Marble floors and counter top, gold fixtures, pedestal tub and velvet towels of the deepest emerald green I'd ever seen filled the room; a sharp contrast to the dungeon, but quite in keeping with the rest of the house.
The most difficult part was getting the bath drawn and myself into it, but once submerged in the hot water I felt much better. My muscles relaxed and the stinging of my welts subsided as the salt was washed from my skin and the soothing oils touched them. I stayed in the water until it became to cold to bear. I didn't want to get out, leave this luxurious room with all its finery and have to go once again back into the dungeon. I was, for all accounts and purposes, being held here, a captive. Greta had, with out exactly putting it in so many words, told me so. And, I was frightened of what I might find. Was Paul dead? If so, would his body still be lying there, or would it have been ... disposed of by now? I stole a peek out around the door. Feral had gone, as had Greta. Paul still lay on the chaise, in the same position.
My aches and pain only a minor thing now, I dried and dressed in the robe, then walked back across the cold stone floor to the chaise. Paul was perhaps ten feet away from me, but lying in the shadows. The light from the candle near me did not reach that far. I laid down and pulled a comforter over myself, and forced my eyes over to him. Straining in the dim light it was difficult to tell whether or not he was breathing. I watched his chest to see if it rose and fell but could not tell. After only a few moments of debate I rose and walked cautiously toward him, bringing my candle with me. I knelt down and placed my hand on his chest. I could feel his breathing and his heart, though both were very weak and faint. I felt a tremendous sense of relief to know that he was still alive. But he was so pale, his skin ashen, purplish-pink circles under his eyes, and his lips so pale they were almost white. I touched his cheek, he was cold despite the heavy blanket that had been placed over him. Gently I turned his head so that I could see the mark Feral had left on his neck; the mark I knew should be there. Two tiny puncture wounds, the blood dried, broke the perfection of his skin. I touched them lightly, my stomach twisting as I did so, to make certain that this was real and not a dream or something I'd imagined. All too real. It hit me and I took a sharp intake of breath, my heart pounding. My hand shook, I felt so weak and so tired suddenly, it was all I could do to get back to my chaise and crawl under the comforter. I'd left my candle on the small table near Paul, and I fell asleep watching the light from its tiny flame dance over his face. He was so still. I wondered if he wasn't in some stage very near death.
When I awoke some hours later I was alone and Paul was still asleep. The candle had burned down so I lit another and placed it on the table near him. It looked as though his color had improved somewhat, and he was breathing better. I noticed the doorway was open, and so I gathered myself together and found my way back to the main part of the house. When I came to a room with windows I could see the sun still had an hour or so before it went down. From what I understood this meant that Feral would still be in her resting place. As for the two girls, had they as well worn the makeup that Feral had to disguise her vampiric features? And what of Greta? No. She, I quickly decided, must be Feral's mortal guardian. Her protector by day and prurient accomplice by night. I would have to watch for Greta as I made my way around the mansion, determined to learn as much about Feral as possible before she rose once more.
The first room was a drawing room or library. The walls were -lined with books, beautifully leather bound volumes with gold lettering, hundreds, perhaps thousands of them. The ceiling was domed and inlaid with an exquisite mosaic depicting the Creation of Adam. I was astounded by the detail and precision of the piece mimicking Michelangelo's timeless work with such genius. On the walls were more works of the Master, including several pencil drawings and two other paintings, The Birth of Venus, and Venus of Urbino. Statues of David and the Pieta stood at either end of the room next to the huge windows. The heavy velvet drapes had been opened to allow the sunlight to filter in and cast its glorious natural light on these masterpieces. They seemed so perfect, so old. I wondered for a moment if they might be the originals. But then, how could that be? I knew that all the works but one were housed in the Bridgeman Art Gallery. The other, of course, adorned the Sistine Chapel.
From this room I proceeded through the mansion, finding more drawing rooms, a music room, a "green" room filled with orchids, an elaborate kitchen, dining hall and then the living room I'd been in the night before. I had not seen Greta at all downstairs. Carefully, I made my way up the winding stairway to the second floor. The rooms here were mainly bedrooms, most of them with sitting rooms, each with its own bath. There were great storage closets and then a small living quarters that I took to be Greta's rooms. I went finally to the third floor, and here the very air seemed to change. It was unreasonably cold, though I could find no sign of an air conditioner running. There were no windows to be seen in any of the rooms I checked, and most of these were vacant, devoid of furniture or any ornamentation. Until I came to one halfway down the hall. Inside this room I found two coffins, both highly polished mahogany and resting upon ornately carved stone pedestals. A large candelabrum burned at the head of each coffin, the tapers two feet long and three or four inches in circumference. I walked into the room and beheld the prone figures lying in the open coffins. The two girls from the dungeon, naked, their lips stained red. Fear gripped me as I looked upon their lily white skin, their hands resting in repose across their chests. As dead and perfect looking as cadavers after the talents of an expert mortician have been utilized, yet still they breathed!
Scattered around the room were the discarded clothes of nights gone by, silken lingerie, high heels, hosiery, garter belts. I backed out and closed the door quietly. My heart beat rapidly, my breathing came in short, quick gulps. They'd taken a victim themselves, it was obvious, but who? And did they leave their victim alive as Feral had? Or was Greta disposing of the body or bodies at the moment, thus explaining her absence.
I pushed on, holding my fear at bay as I checked the remainder of the rooms. All, I determined, were empty except for one whose door was locked. I could only guess that behind this barrier Feral slumbered, safe behind the massive door with its cast iron lock. For all it was worth I knew of her resting place, and I knew that the two girls were vampires as well.
And suddenly I wanted to get as far away from all of them as I could! I wanted to get back to my hotel room on the other side of town and lock myself away. I needed to think, to go over my decision once more. It wasn't that I had changed my mind, or even that I was having second thoughts. I just needed time to regroup, to see if there were any other strategy, outside of a continued association with Feral, that might produce the desired result: Finding Nik. If only there were some way to get in touch with Dane!
I turned away from the door and walked toward the stairway. It came to me then, if only I had a computer with me I could try and e-mail him. If I knew him, and I did so very well, he was never without a computer. I was sure that he had taken his laptop on his travels; to keep his diary current if nothing for else. That was it. I would leave here before they rose and with the help of my credit card I would purchase a laptop, go back to my room and send word to Dane via the Internet that I was here in Las Vegas, that I had met this Vampiress who had offered to help me locate Nik in exchange for "the one known as Grayling." I owed it to Dane, to warn him of what was going on. He needed to warn his friend. Though I did not know to what end she sought him, she was willing to risk the wrath of the Strigoi to get Grayling.
Of one thing I was certain. She was not going to be amused by my sudden departure. After finding something more street worthy than the silk robe, I scribbled a quick note to Feral, advising her that I would be back.
FIVE
June 18th
Being careful to keep track of the streets and turns, I left Feral's mansion and headed back to my hotel. After a quick look through the Yellow Pages and a few phone calls, I found myself once more in my jeep and heading to a nearby computer mega store outlet to pick up my laptop. After some orientation, and a quick lesson in the communication software package, I was out the door and soon back in my room writing quickly, and with as much attention to detail as possible, laying out the course of events since last I'd heard from Dane, or he from me.
After only a few minutes I could see the investment I'd just made would pay off in time saved alone. I remembered how I'd fought against Dane's regular suggestions to me, that I should get a computer to write back and forth to him. And not only that but the empty hours that had made up so much of my life since leaving Los Angeles could have been filled with "traveling" over the world, meeting people, exchanging ideas and so forth, without ever having to leave the sanctity of my parent's home.
My letter to Dane, and my previous diary entry are all on computer. In fact, I sent him the entry attached as a file to his email rather than type the whole thing out twice. Still it has taken me late into the night, and now I must sleep.
June 19th
I slept only three hours. The sound of my computer mailbox beeping at me woke me. I had inadvertently left it in sleep mode rather than turn it off, and this feature of an alarm to signal the arrival of new mail was just an added surprise to this little wonder of a machine. I quickly opened the mail and read. Dane's letter to me is as follows:
Dearest Jenna, I cannot say how wonderful, and at the same time how distressing it is to hear from you at last. The past few days where no one has known your whereabouts has had me spending every waking moment fearing the worst had befallen you. Your parents are sick with worry; do contact them immediately to let them know you are all right. They fear for your well-being given the state of mind you've been in for months now.
That said, I want you to know that I am deeply concerned myself, but for different reasons than your parents. Jenna ... your diary entry ... dare I say that it sounds so reminiscent of those initial entries of Nik's? Do you have any idea of my plight, not only to have watched Nik succumb to this, his better judgment having been put down long enough by the enchantment of the Vampyre to allow him to fall into their domination ... but now you, as well, run the risk of the same! I would implore you, beg you, beseech you, please, leave this city now! But you will not, this I know. So I will do the only thing that I can, and that is bring you up to date on what I have been doing, and the things I've found out.
Grayling and I arrived here the better part of a week before you did. We checked into a small hotel in what closely resembles a demilitarized zone in some third world country, the "downtown" area. Our room reminds me very much of the one Nik let back in Los Angeles, though this one does not have any quiet moments. All of the rooms on our floor are let in three hour increments, except ours of course, which we let by the week. Ours is the only one with a full bathroom for reasons that I'm sure you can figure out. The noise is constant, the atmosphere repugnant at best. But it is surprisingly clean and vermin free within the confines of our room. There is, as well, a fairly decent little diner just on the corner that will deliver food for a small fortune, a necessary evil I'm afraid, as Grayling and I barely have the time to eat well. We have been spending our days getting as much sleep as we can, coupled with my record keeping and Grayling and Ingrid's communiques regarding data recovered from the disks. His sole purpose in life now is to destroy the Intruder. I, as well, see the virtue in this act, and the benefit to mankind ... but I would be remiss in telling the entire truth did I not mention that some possible escape for Nik is still, as it has always been, on my agenda. As Grayling had told me, however, I would have to see him and speak to him myself.
I have seen Nik. Grayling took me to him, he is located just over forty miles out of town, staying at a hotel resort nestled in a canyon high up in the mountains. It is June in the desert, yet at this elevation there is still some snow on the highest peaks and a chill to the air. The hotel is a beautiful and rustic place, just 60 rooms and suites, built entirely of rough hewn logs and stones. It is accessible by road but we chose to take a helicopter tHe're, landing just before sunset. Our pilot we paid for the night, securing for him a room in the bargain. Grayling and I checked into our room, then went down to the small lounge just off the lobby. He assured me that this would be our best vantage point as we could see the stairway to the upper floors from here, and thus, be able to see Nik when he came down for the evening. There was a function going on in the main dining hall, a reception of some sort that saw many well dressed and well to do people coming and going. I ordered a scotch on the rocks and Grayling asked for water which he drank down immediately. We sat quietly, neither of us saying a word for a half hour. And then, the entire room seemed to turn at once to see who the young man was that came slowly down the stairs. A young man of unearthly beauty and inhumanely graceful movements, dressed in vintage tux and tails, glistening blonde hair pulled back neatly in a ponytail, crystalline blue eyes ... Nik.
I could not move to go to him or speak. I could only stare at him, as others did, male and female alike. I knew they wondered what movie star was this. But I saw only my friend; the sight made my heart ache.
Nik stopped on the last step, though it had not been his original intention. He scanned the lobby and the reception area briefly, then turned back to the lobby once again, and finally to us. His eyes connected instantly with mine and I felt something hit me, causing me to sit back against my chair, my heart beating rapidly in my chest. He stood there, gazing with liquid eyes at me for what seemed an eternity before he regained his movement, taking the last stair lightly and walking slowly toward Grayling and myself.
He seemed oblivious to all the pairs of eyes that were riveted to him, or perhaps he was just so used to it that he no longer noticed or cared. As he took the last few steps I somehow found the strength to stand to receive him, to look from a close distance into his vampire eyes, to see the little smile that turned the one corner of his mouth up briefly, and finally to embrace him as he moved to embrace me. Tears spilled unchecked down my cheeks as he held me close, his inhumanely strong arms able to crush every bone in my body, yet so tender and careful not to harm. His body was hard and cold against my warm, soft one. The feel of his back ... it was like rock, and his chest the same. My heart beat against that chest so hard that it jarred me. But there was no heartbeat in return to be felt from him, from the vampire I held and wept for. It leaves me with such sadness to recount this moment to you, Jenna, it is as heart wrenching for me now as when it happened.
Eventually Nik's hands on my shoulders gently pushed me away so that he could look into my eyes once again. I saw in his uncertainty, and a little fear, but just a brief flash of this before the veil of seduction once again fell over the blue. Still holding my shoulders he looked past me to Grayling, who was still sitting. I watched as a fire built up within Nik, one that spelt great danger.
"Why have you brought him here?" he asked of Grayling, his voice displaying none of the fire behind his eyes; merely a question requiring an answer; an honest one, and one that would be immediate.
"He needed to know. So that his heart and soul and mind will be at rest," Grayling answered after only the most minor pause; one for effect only. "You knew this would happen one day. Who better to deliver him than I?"
"Why, my friend," Nik said, a touch of sarcasm tingeing his words, "would you take this task upon yourself?"
Grayling settled back comfortably in his chair. He was not going to let either Nik or me know of the fear he was courting at verbally sparring with a vampire of Nik's stature.
"Who would yOu have, Nik? Would you prefer Madeline or maybe Silena leading him to you on the end of a leash!"
Grayling's voice had not risen, indeed the words that passed between them were barely audible, yet the intense anger each felt was still making itself known.
"You have, acquired a fair amount of self-assuredness to go along with that self-righteous attitude since your switch in lifestyles, my friend," Nik answered in a whisper that rivaled the clash of thunder. His hands tightened on my shoulders before he let go and moved to take a chair. Ever the gentleman, he waited for Grayling to motion an offer with his hand. Nik then took his seat, hands in his lap, his posture perfect, his back never touching the chair. The elegance of his continence made me catch my breath for a moment, but Grayling kept up his attitude of unaffectedness.
"You knew he would eventually seek you out. Do not hide behind such inconsequential elements of how or who brought him to you. As his friend you owe him the explanation that he seeks."
Nik remained silent, some of the anger leaving, replaced by pain.
"Tell him. Ease his mind and his heart as you know you must and we will leave."
Grayling rose to leave us in peace and privacy, but before doing so leaned on the table, his face very near to Nik as he continued.
"But do it quickly and be done with him and your past once and for all! You cannot have it both ways! I am proof of that!"
Something forbidden to speak of passed between them. Grayling's eyes misted over and his lips trembled before he regained his composure and rose from the table. He looked at me quickly, then went across the lounge to the bar and took a seat.
I looked imploringly at Nik for an explanation of what had just transpired. I still felt the chill of his body against mine, his arms about my back, the emptiness of no heartbeat to pound back at mine. Deep inside I knew that it did not mean he could no longer feel our friendship and love. I had always known that it was there, and in the next moment it was confirmed when his eyes looked into mine. I could see it all. Though they were the eyes of a vampire, a killer, a monster ... they were still HIS eyes. And they looked on me with kindness, with joy at seeing me when he never thought he would again. And love. They had not taken that when they took his life. They had not taken his soul.
"Oh, Nik," I began but my voice choked on me momentarily preventing me from continuing. Nik's hand on mine, even though it was like a cold stone calmed me. He waited patiently for me to collect myself.
"I knew inside that you were alive. All this time, I knew, I could feel it," I began.
His mouth moved only enough to take on the beginnings of a smile, but he said nothing. I went on slowly.
"Even with the fire, and how terrible it was, the screams ... the scent of burning flesh and smoke and heat ... somehow I knew you'd survived it all."
Nik cast his eyes downward and took a deep breath, a reaction left over from the traces and remembrances of his human life before he turned. And too, his old habit remained, that of running his hands back through his hair when trying to pull logical thoughts together in times of great stress. As his hair was pulled back he merely ran his fingers over the silken blonde surface, dislodging a lock which fell forward over his eye. He paid it no mind. I'm sure he was entirely unaware of how it made him look almost like a little boy again, and I would be the last to point that out to him. How tragic he appeared to me in that moment! The beautiful, ravishing vampire with the strength of the ancients, so tormented. So tortured. His senses intensified to almost maddening levels by the very creature he was. Certainly the torment he felt was equally amplified, just as were his hearing, his sight, his sense of smell.
"I wished for it, Dane," he said softly. The words shocked me.
"Once she ... once Jenna was away from him I wished for it. For death. In that moment when I held her ... and she felt what I feel like now, the death that I am ... she shuddered at what I had become. She was frightened. I meant for both myself and that creature that I fought with to die. But I was pulled from the flames and with me, in my grip so, too, was the creature pulled from death."
"But who? Who could have helped you? It was so chaotic, everyone racing to save themselves."
Nik looked up from the table, his voice calm. "Hunter. And he took me and cared for me until I healed. It was a short amount of time, just a few days. But during this time I could not fend for myself, nor hunt. I could not even walk or seek out shelter in which to hide."
"My god, if you were that badly burned, Nik ... " but I did not finish as I saw him reach for a knife. He laid his right hand palm up on the table between us and brought the knife down until it pressed into his flesh. Slowly he applied enough pressure to break the skin a quarter inch deep. He pulled the blade across. Blood began to pour out onto the tablecloth ... and within seconds it stopped! I watched as the blood congealed and withdrew back into his flesh and a thin opaque layer of skin appear to seal it off. I watched in fascination as the accelerated healing continued.
"It is how we are. We can heal from almost any injury. This cut will be entirely gone within a few hours. No trace. No scar. The burns, however, were much more devastating to the tissues, in some places I was burned down to the bone. Were it not for Hunter I would have died in the flames. Without his care afterward I would never have recovered as you see me now."
"But Nik, thank god for him...."
"No, Dane, you are confused. It would be god to thank if I had died. That would have been the merciful act."
I felt the utter truth of his words and longed to change the subject, but to what and where would any other topic that we needed to discuss lead but back to pain. To reflections back on a life too briefly lived as a mortal man. But there were questions that I had, questions that needed an answer.
"When did you find out about us? That Jenna and I were alive." I asked hesitantly.
"After ... after I healed I left Hunter and could not find you or Jenna."
"Yes, I found your diary, the last entry, but I only found this recently."
"It was about a month after I wrote that. I spent a great deal of that time searching for Falco and the others that had survived. Madeline, Silena, a handful of the lesser vampires and slaves. Some were hurt but most were just frightened. I discovered that Falco had gathered the remnants of his Family together and had come to Las Vegas, that they'd leased a ranch actually, just outside the city and were slowly rebuilding. He moved quickly, opening another club but not under the same name."
I wanted to ask the name of this new club, but I could tell that Nik was not ready to tell me yet.
"It was not difficult for me to find them, Dane. I am tied to them by Madeline's blood, which is tied to Falco and them all. I can sense them when they are near. I can sense when they are far away. The closer they are, the stronger the feeling of ... home."
Nik was silent a moment, reflecting on the term "home".
"I came back to Los Angeles briefly, wanting only to collect my diaries and arrange for my belongings to be sent here, for I had found this place, this hotel, quite by accident one night. I'd caught scent of a vampire, not one of our Family, but a vampire just the same. I was in a dance club, for no reason other than it was a familiar atmosphere for me. I needed a place to be that I did not have to think about how much I did not belong. It was certainly the last place I thought I'd run into any of my kind, but after a short time I caught his scent and picked him out of the crowd. I watched him watching the men who were watching the girls dance. I put it all together quickly enough, for I had seen this sort of "arrangement" in the past. I moved closer so that I could pick up his thoughts. He had, in his mortal life, worked as a middleman in arranging discreet meetings with female dancers and the wealthy men that came looking for entertainment beyond the stage. This vampire, Nigel, sits in the crowd and observes. In mortal life he had quite the. knack for picking out men with more money than they knew what to do with. In his vampire life this sixth sense of his was heightened considerably. After he makes his selection, Nigel arranges for the gentleman to take the young lady of his choice for a meeting up here, far enough away to assure privacy and safety, yet still close enough to the city that even an evening's tryst is possible. Only now, with his powers to alter a human's thoughts, removing those that are better forgotten, he not only makes his wage as middleman, but squeezes untold amounts out of these men's bank accounts before he's through with them." Nik looked at me for a moment, taking in the surprised look on my face. "Dane," he said, patting my hand, "in this day and age a vampire must have a means of making money."
"Of course," I muttered.
"So then, my curiosity piqued, I followed the trio when they left. Nigel, a dancer named Shonra, and the victim of the evening, a wealthy man in his late forties named Howard. I followed them up here, decided that I liked the environment ... " Nik stopped suddenly, his eyes darting toward the lobby quickly, all his senses focused on a couple that had just come in. From the emeralds around the woman's neck it was apparent that they were quite wealthy. Nik watched them head toward the festivities, then turned back to me.
"I ... decided that I could reside here. There was opportunity here for me."
"Nik, are you saying that you live here, preying on the wealthy guests?"
His eyes flashed. "I am," he said quietly. "I require no approval from you; don't feel that you have to think up some excuse for me. I have none for myself. There aren't any. The simple fact of the matter is I am a vampire. In order to assure my safety and survival I need a lot of money. I need a secluded home. I need the availability of mortals from which to feed. This place provides everything for me."
Before I stopped to think I spoke, "But what of Falco? What of Madeline and the pact you made?"
Nik took a deep breath and regarded me quietly for a moment. "That takes us back to your original question, when did I find out that you and Jenna were still alive? Once I had secured this place as my new home, I traveled back to Los Angeles. While I was there I found myself wandering the streets of your neighborhood. It was very late, I'd fed ravenously on a man who'd consumed inordinate amounts of alcohol. I was myself intoxicated by the time I'd finished him off. I walked and walked, depressed ... still so very depressed that I lived, that I hadn't perished. I mourned so for you and Jenna ... I think that is why I found myself at your apartment complex, in the courtyard, staring up at your window, wondering who lived there now. I drew myself up onto the balcony and peered through the half open blinds. Your furniture, all of your belongings were still there. I was amazed at this, how could it be? Certainly your family would have had your things removed by now. Despite the fact that my senses were dulled by the alcohol tainted blood that filled me, I managed to enter the apartment in silence, breaking the lock on the sliding door and moving without sound through the rooms. Behind the closed bedroom door I could feel the mortal heat, taste the salt on the air. When I went into the bedroom, I saw you lying in your bed, the moonlight streaming in across your face ... I thought I was hallucinating. I moved closer, so close that I reached out and touched your arm, your face. I sat for a long time on the edge of your bed, watching you sleep, listening to your dreams. I fought with myself whether or not I should wake you. I decided, finally, to go and leave you in peace. Before I left, however, I saw the letter you'd just written to Jenna lying on the night stand. Sealed, addressed to her at her parent's ranch in Wyoming. To know that you were both alive ... and well ... I left. What I had thought for the last month, that Falco and his Family had gone against their word ... I had no choice then but to go back to them and back into the pact that I'd entered into with them. Falco understood, HAD understood all along and had been protecting not only Jenna but yourself as well. He agreed to allow me my haven here, and that I would be left alone to live my life and make my own way. But whenever they call to me, I must go to them."
I gathered myself together, I chose my words carefully. "Nik, there is much that has happened. Jenna ... she will not allow any of this to continue. She needs to see you, to tell you that she will have no part in this pact of yours. She will not be responsible for the eternity of servitude that you will suffer only to protect her. I'm afraid there is no arguing with her on this. She realizes, of course, that you are lost to her. But her love for you is as strong as it ever was, more so in fact, and ... I fear what she will do to assure that this pact ends. She sees herself as the only reason for it. If not for your concern over her safety...."
"You needn't go on, I understand. She knows, then, that I am alive." It was a statement more than a question. As if he'd held out some hope that she thought him dead. "I cannot see her, Dane. I cannot bear to see the look in her eyes, I cannot bear to feel her fear!"
"I do not blame you, it is difficult to watch her suffering. But seeing you will ease it in some ways...."
"You do not understand!" he said, his voice raising and drawing attention from the other tables. "Her fear ... the scent of her fear ... I do not trust myself to be near her! Even as it destroys me it feeds me! I ... I do not know if I could resist a fear as sweet as hers."
And so, Jenna, it is your safety again that he is concerned with. The more I spoke with him that night, the more I discovered about this creature that he has become. Though he is still so tragically connected to those things human, he has taken on so much of the qualities of the Strigoi. It is not only blood, but fear which drives them insane with desire. The emotions are overwhelming. Just the mere discussion we were engaged in was having a noticeable effect on him. I could tell the hunger grew as the moments passed. I watched his eyes when he looked at the people walking past, the women in their evening gowns, throats bared, tempting him! Even when the waitress came to freshen my drink and she bent over the table, his eyes locked on her throat rather than her extraordinary breasts. His lips parted hungrily, his eyes glazed over, his excitement, the lust threatening to push him over the edge ... he cannot control it. The hunger controls him! Had I not rudely sent her away I fear for what might have taken place. And I had to move quickly to get him away, outside so that perhaps he could calm down, if, indeed, that were possible.
I finished the new drink in one gulp and took him by the arm, pulling him along after me. We left by a side entrance and walked some distance down the road from the hotel. The moon was up and full and cast strange lights on him. I was frightened. It was a dangerous situation to be so near him at that moment. I held onto his words, that fear fed him, and concentrated on quieting that fear which raced through me. I held onto his words from that night months ago where he had told me he would never hurt me. I put all my faith into that. And perhaps it was this alone that saved me. I cannot say.
But you must understand, Jenna, there is great danger. He is now, above all else, a vampire. The nature is within him. He has changed.
After a short while, the entire time spent in silence, he inquired as to the time. He needed to get back to the hotel, he was meeting a couple, an elderly gentleman and his young beautiful wife.
"I must leave for a time," he said, and handed me a key to his rooms. "Go there, stay in the reading room where it is dark. Do not turn on the lights. I will bring them there, you will see with your own eyes what I am, how I survive. You can take this knowledge with you, to Jenna, and she can push me from her mind once and for all. Let her know the full truth of who I am and perhaps she will see that this pact that I suffer under is something deserved. Both of you will know, and you will understand why I never came to you. You will see what I have become and the means I have chosen to ensure my survival. You will see that I have accepted what I am. That I have learned what it is that I must do. And that I am very good at it."
SIX
Dane's letter continued
I watched Nik walk away, back toward the hotel where he disappeared around a bend in the road which led around the side of the hotel. I went back to the lounge where I found Grayling still at the bar. I explained to him that I would need some time alone, that I would meet him back at our room later, and then went to the third floor where I found Nik's suite.
Inside I found rooms that Nik had transformed from mere hotel rooms to his home. All of the familiar things that had adorned his old apartment were here, the things he loved to have near to him in life. His art, his furniture, his books. He'd had shelves built into the walls, custom painters brought in, all the small touches that made the place his. There was a large sitting room first and just off of this a sunken den with a balcony patio off the far wall. To the left was a small kitchen area which looked pristine and never used. To the right was a hallway which led to the first bedroom. An antique bedroom set, king bed and matching pieces, including several chairs and a small sofa. The carpet was deep and soft as I made my was across and toward the reading room he had mentioned. This smaller room held only a large wing-back leather chair, ottoman, side table and chair and floor lamp. There was a heavy velvet drape that could be drawn across the doorway, and from the outside appeared to be a window. But, through a narrow doorway on the left wall just behind the chair was another room, or what appeared had been a set of rooms, another suite, though much smaller in size. Apparently Nik had talked the hotel into allowing these rooms to be joined to his. And these rooms ... this is where he slept. The walls had been knocked out to transform it into one large chamber. The doorway leading outside to the hall had been sealed over, and all windows but one sealed as well, and this one was heavily barred with thick light-proof drapes covering it. The chamber was painted a deep rose shade and the floor was black marble. In the center of the chamber sat Nik's coffin. It rested on the floor, a large gray onyx coffin. The lights, which were dim milk glass covered wall lamps, cast a pink light, a sense of warmth to the otherwise chilly atmosphere of the place. I walked over and knelt down, gazing into the open coffin, once again overcome by the harsh reality of his existence rising up to greet me once again. It was -lined in gray silk and held a rumpled matching gray llama fur cover, itself incredibly soft and supple to the touch. I pictured him sleeping here, alone, cold, helpless in that sleep of the dead that a vampire must enter into every day. I felt the cold surface of the coffin, my hand running over the edge and down the side, then I reached back in to feel the warmth of the fur once more. That the chamber was devoid of any ornamentation did not come as a surprise. It was a barren and lonely sleep that he slept. It was the perfect room for it.
I left the chamber making sure the door was tightly secured behind me, turned out the lights in the reading room and drew the drape so that only a tiny slit remained opened, then settled in the leather chair to wait. I did not have to wait long.
It was incredibly quiet, so much so that even the sound of a key turning in the lock from the other room was quite audible. Then I heard voices, one male and one female, neither of which I recognized. Another male voice soon followed, that of Nik's. After a few moments the voices grew nearer. Lights came on in the bedroom and Nik entered, followed by a beautiful redhead and an older man with silver hair and matching silver handled walking stick. Nik motioned for the man to take a seat on the small sofa. The woman, holding him by his arm, assisted him across the room. Nik moved to a wall unit and turned on the sound system. From a control panel within he dimmed the lights and adjusted the sound on the stereo which was playing of all things, classical music. It was hauntingly beautiful, violin strings, oboes, dark cellos ... I could not place the artist.
Nik turned to face the couple. The woman sat next to the old man, her lovely legs crossed and peeking seductively from the high slit in her sparkling gown. She watched Nik's back, her eyes roaming up and down as he removed his tuxedo jacket and tossed it over a chair. Her breathing became deeper as she continued to stare, taking in his broad back and narrow waist which were accentuated by the crimson cummerbund he wore. The old man's eyes darted excitedly from Nik to the woman, his one hand clutching the silver handle of his cane tightly, the other on the woman's thigh.
Nik turned to face them, his hands moving to loosen his black ribbon tie as he walked slowly toward them to stop about three feet away. With the black ribbon hanging in two wavy lines now, he began to open the pearl stud buttons that reached high up on his neck. The woman's eyes were fastened on his hands, her excitement mounting with each button released, as more and more of his chest was revealed to her hungry eyes. He moved closer, at an angle as he placed one leg against the front of the sofa, between hers and the old man's. The woman reached out with her hand to touch his thigh, her eyes riveted to the bulge between his legs, and Nik turned to look over his shoulder at me. Though I was shrouded in darkness, peering through the narrow slit in the drapes, I knew he could see me quite clearly. I looked closely at him, I could see by the flush to his skin and the deep color to his lips that he had fed. Indeed, he had the control he did now only because he had fed. And it occurred to me that he would have had to. To engage in what was going on now in this room his body would have to be warm to the touch.
As the woman's hand moved up his thigh, Nik's hands moved to part his shirt, pushing it only halfway off his shoulders, revealing his chest. He ran his fingers over his skin, closing his eyes to mine, tilting his head upward as he melted into the eroticism of the moment. As the woman's fingers found him and she traced the length of him through the material of his pants, Nik's skin flushed deeper still, his cheeks burning now with the lust that filled him. The old man prodded the woman to stand, which she did, placing her hands over Nik's, following his movements as he caressed his chest, lingering on his hard nipples. The woman brought her leg up to press his cock, delicately wringing a moan from him. He placed his hands atop hers now, and drew them over his skin, down and around the back of his waist so that she could remove the cummerbund. He placed her hands back on his chest where she pinched his nipples, making him moan again before he pushed her hands downward, to the waistband of his pants where she undid the top two buttons. She began to move her hand inside his pants but he grabbed her by her hair and wrenched her face level with his.
"He wants to watch you suck cock," Nik said, his voice uncharacteristically deep. "Get down on your knees and do it!"
The woman was clearly excited to do whatever Nik ordered, and dropped to her knees quickly. The old man was fumbling in his jacket pocket and in short order produced a pair of handcuffs which he put on the woman's wrists behind her back. He then reached over and pulled the straps of her gown over her shoulders, then used these to rip the gown downward to her waist. She was naked underneath, her huge breasts spilling out against the front of Nik's thighs.
"Do it!" the old man hissed, spittle mottling his lower lip. "Suck his big cock!"
Nik still clenched a fistful of the woman's thick red locks in his one hand as his other moved to undo the rest of his pants buttons. The woman was breathing hard, little moans escaping her as she fought to pull away from Nik's hold on her. But he held her just out of reach. When the last button came loose he slid his hand between material and skin, moving over his cock, pulling his pants open ever so slightly, revealing but the base of his cock to the woman, yet she let out such a moan that I thought she would swoon then and there!
The old man licked his lips anxiously as he reached over and ripped the gown completely away from the woman. It fell in a glittering heap down around her on the floor. The old man reached for his cane and unscrewed the silver handle, pulled, and from the shaft withdrew a long leather switch! He drew it slowly up and down her back, tickling her, causing goose flesh to rise and her nipples to harden. Nik renewed his hold on her hair, yanking her head back a little as his other caressed his cock, pulling his pants open further still, showing her more, making her moans louder. She struggled slightly with the cuffs, wanting desperately to free her hands. The old man gave her a short lash to her bottom, making her squeal.
"You must wear them!" he snapped, and lashed her again. Two thin, dark red welts appeared on her skin, which the old man eyed with approval, then turned his attention back to the scene playing out before him, shifting enough on the sofa to get a better look. Nik's cock was only barely contained within his pants now, his erection forcing his pants open so wide that the only thing holding him back now were his fingertips which caressed just under the rim of his cock's head. The woman's tongue darted out, trying to reach him, and he pulled her a fraction closer, but still not close enough. The old man was overjoyed.
"You see, Nik, I told you what a whore she is! A whore for cocks!"
Nik opened his eyes and looked at the old man, his gaze at once enchanting and petrifying. He pulled his cock out by the base and stroked himself several times, drawing the full length out, then caressed the woman's cheek with it. Her mouth opened hungrily for him, but he still held her fast.
"Yes, a delightful whore, Samuel," Nik purred, and pulled his cock over so that she could reach it with the tip of her tongue. She instantly ravished him as best she could while he stroked himself.
"Yes, yes, just a little at a time, young man. Such a beautiful mouth should be savored," Samuel purred back, his eyes locked on the woman's mouth.
Nik pushed a little closer, allowing her to press her lips to the tip where she kissed and sucked at him loudly. Nik let out a tortured cry so soft I could barely hear. He pushed closer so that her teeth could nip and nibble at him, wringing from him a deep, sensual moan. His hand stroked faster, his cock even harder now and glimmering on the head where she's wet him with her mouth. His eyes were changing, growing more luminescent, colors swirling in the irises.
"Open," he ordered her, and as she did so he slowly pushed the full length of himself into her! She took him, all of him, down to his base, her cheeks hollowing as she sucked hard. Her tongue worked him roughly until his body was shuddering in the strain it took for him to feel the wave of erotic emotions that coursed through him. Still holding her head stationary, he withdrew completely to reveal his throbbing cock to Samuel who sat forward in his excitement.
"Ah, you see! Look what she has done to you already!" and with that he began lashing the woman across her ass, and with a perverted smile across his face resembling for all the world the morbidly grotesque painted smile of a clown, scolded her for her filthy, naughty ways!
The more he-lashed at her the more she begged for Nik's cock once more! He pushed down her throat again, this time using both his hands to slam her head down to meet his thrust. His balls slapped under her chin and he cried softly with the renewed wave of pleasure that washed over him, sending a blush spreading out over his skin. He thrust again, and again, the muscles of his thighs, stomach, chest, and arms straining. And with every thrust came a lash down across the woman's delicate backside, and more vehement admonitions from Samuel. Nik's thrusts became faster, the woman sucking harder and harder to hold him in her mouth, her teeth digging into him, his moans rising and rising, the timber of his voice reaching inhuman levels now, but neither Samuel or the woman seemed to notice; the woman that she was sucking off a vampire, nor the old man that he was forcing his female on a monster! Nik threw his head back, his hair flying loose down his back, and he came, violently and hard. The woman, realizing this began moaning wildly, sucking even more ravenously, swallowing and swallowing as Nik's cum flooded her! Nik wavered unsteadily, his body relaxing as she finished him off. And when he finally pulled away from her, only then did he let go of her hair. He stumbled over to the bed and steadied himself with a hand on the post, his eyes shooting over to me, the lights still playing there. I looked over to Samuel and the woman, she had turned around to face him, still on her knees, her head thrown back as he lashed cruelly at her breasts with his switch. He penis was free, laying half erect on his thigh but growing harder the more he beat the girl and the more she moaned, begging to suck him off now.
It came to me that this is what it took for the old man to get a sufficient erection; to get it up enough to where she could make him come. He needed to watch her servicing handsome young men with their strong cocks. He needed to see how she made other men come to believe that she could make him. But perhaps most importantly, he needed to feel in complete control of everything. The woman, himself, even Nik to some extent. It was an incredibly intricate dance of seduction.
The old man had spared nothing with his switch, the woman's breasts were riddled with short, bright red marks. She seemed quite taxed but still wanting, still quite able to continue.
"Come here young man," Samuel said, laying down his switch on the sofa next to him. Nik, who had been watching me the whole time, turned and went to the couple.
"You come highly recommended, Nik. Tell me, have people over exaggerated about your staying power? Or can you manage to get it up again? I want you doing her in the ass!"
"Samuel, no!" the woman panted. Clearly this was something she did not enjoy.
"Shut up!" Samuel hissed, "Do her now!" he ordered, glaring evilly at Nik.
Nik retrieved a three foot long metal bar with shackles attached at either end from under the bed, spread her legs open and secured it in place. It was difficult for her to hold her kneeling position with her body so off balance.
Nik slowly pushed his pants down around his ankles, kicked off his shoes, then the pants. He knelt behind her and pressed his body tightly to her, pinning her manacled arms between them. His cock grew with an erection quickly, pressing between her ass cheeks, sending fear shooting through her body.
And Nik quickened!
He pulled back slightly, his cock stiff and hard out before him. Placing both his hands at the woman's waist, he first entered her vaginally, making her moan, nearly making her come. But this was only to lubricate himself. He withdrew and pushed her down, the side of her face sinking into the carpet, her ass high and legs spread far apart with the bar. Carefully he positioned himself between her cheeks, pressing at her opening. The woman began sobbing, her fear was so great, but Nik did not react the way we would expect him to. His cock began throbbing, growing longer and harder. Her fear was feeding him! He pushed his head into her and she cried out in pain, tears streaming down her cheeks. Another push and he went in further still. The woman was crying, begging for him to stop but he was not going to, nor was the old man going to call and end to things. Indeed, he was, at this point, masturbating fervently!
Nik thrust again and again, each time sinking deeper into the woman's forbidden reaches until finally he was within her completely. She was shaking, frightened, her sobbing so uncontrollable that she seemed like a little girl suddenly, no longer the cock whore of moments ago.
Nik reached down and grabbed her by the handcuffs, pulling her erect onto her knees once more. He put his arms around her, one hand at her breasts and the other down between her legs. His fingers moved gently, carefully over her, relaxing her, but only to a point before pulling out halfway. After a brief few seconds he would thrust deep and hard into her. And there he would remain, fingering her pussy, drawing her trust and passion to the surface until once more he withdrew partway and thrust again. Nik took the woman through this time after time until she was near hysteria! And it was then that Nik, using his body to press her, made her move over Samuel's lap, her head lowered over his cock which he was still masturbating with a vengeance.
"Do him," Nik whispered, pulling her thick hair away from her neck, a maneuver that I thought was to aid the old man in watching, but which turned out to benefit Nik as well.
"Do him like you did me, bitch. Now."
The woman obeyed, opening her mouth and pulling the less than adequate cock completely in. As she sucked on him, Samuel threw his head back in ecstasy, pumping his hips in short, feeble jerking motions. Nik resumed his task, slowly, methodically fucking the woman's ass. Her cries of pain, though not as severe as they had been, still carried with them the fear that drove Nik to do what it is he will always do. Carefully, he bent over the woman until his lips rested along her neck. His long hair fell forward to conceal the unspeakable act he was about to commit, but not before I saw the flash of sharp white teeth hovering dangerously at the soft throat.
When Nik bit her she let out a cry so pitiful that the old man lost it finally and came hard in her mouth, choking off the sound of her voice. The muscles of Nik's back convulsed as he drew her blood into him, coming once more as he did so, his body pumping hard, driving his cock deep into the woman. The old man cried out in his passion, his body bucking up against the woman's face. Nik reached up with one hand, wrapped his fingers around Samuel's scrawny throat and squeezed. The old man passed out quickly. Nik pulled the woman off of him and sat back on his legs, bringing the woman with him, still inside her. Her body was no longer resisting him, however, and she hung limp in his embrace. Nik's face was buried in her neck, his mouth pulling deeply from her, his moans and breathing coming in rapid succession, agonizing and exuberant at the same time! He drank from her for several minutes, her flesh growing paler, his growing more flushed until her eyes rolled back in her head. And I could take it no longer and burst from the reading room to their side.
"Nik! Stop! You'll kill her!" I screamed, trying desperately and with all my strength to pry her from his arms. But he was unmoving, as strong as rock, and looked up at me with eyes I cannot bear to remember! They were filled with something I had never before seen ... nor do I ever want to see it again. His eyes were filled with the fury and focus and passion of a deranged murderer!
I backed off slowly, so repulsed, so full of fear myself that I did not know what to do! It was clear that Nik was so consumed he was not going to spare the woman. I looked around quickly and spied a fireplace poker in its stand. Without thinking, I grabbed it and raced up behind Nik. I raised it over my head, repeating in my mind over and over that which Nik had told me that very night, that a vampire could recover from almost any wound ... and then I let go with all the strength I could muster, bringing the poker down in a great sweeping arc, smashing the side of Nik's head and dislodging him from the woman's neck. I felt a sickly crunch when the heavy metal hit him and I immediately backed away, letting the poker drop from my hands like it was on fire. Nik let the woman slip away from him, crumpling on the floor, and slowly turned to look at me. Blood was gushing from his temple, matting his hair, flowing in a bright red current down his neck, over his shoulder, and down his chest and back. His eyes had lost all trace of the monster and were remarkably clear and blue and peaceful. He tried to speak, his lips forming the shape of my name, but no sound. He looked down at the blood pooling around him on the carpet, coming so quickly that it did not have time to absorb. And when he looked back at me, his face drawn and pale ... he did speak my name, just once before he fell back.
I knew before he hit the floor that he was dead.
I could not bear to look at him! At what I'd done! It was all a nightmare! Some horrible, awful nightmare from which I would awaken! Oh, how I wished in that moment for it to be so! I knelt down next to him, his face was so peaceful, so innocent and pure that I felt myself calming. I brushed the blood matted hair from his face and with my shirt sleeve wiped away the blood as best I could from his cheek ... and then the woman's blood from his mouth. He was so still. The flow of blood had slowed to a mere trickle now. He was not breathing. His body was cold. He was gone.
I heard his voice echoing in my head, playing above the sound of my weeping, 'No, Dane you are confused. It would be god to thank if I had died. That would have been the merciful act.' I kept saying, over and over, that I was sorry. That I hadn't meant to kill him. It couldn't be! But his still figure just lay there. His eyes empty, staring straight ahead. Dead.
I was frantic suddenly, desperate to find someone, anyone who might be able to help when at the door there was a knock!
Terror gripped me! What if someone had heard all the screaming and called for the management to come and check the suite? I stood and went as quietly as I could to the front room, stopping, straining to listen for voices. There was nothing for several agonizing seconds. Another knock, this time more fervent. I stepped cautiously to the door and pressed my eye to the little glass bead and peered into it. After my eye adjusted to the fisheye image and my brain registered it, I saw a lone figure, neither management nor police, but that of something far worse to fear. My heart jumped into my throat. I would have traded just about anything I had to indeed HAVE the police at the door rather than the person who stared back at me.
"Open the door, Dane," he said with the same firmness one would use when speaking to a terrified child. "Open the door before it is too late."
SEVEN
Dane's letter continued
At the sound of that voice, at the mention of my name, there was nothing I could do, no fear so great to keep me from obeying.
I opened the door to him, to Falco. To the "porcelain doll" who was a man ... no ... who was a vampire! The tousled black hair, the emerald eyes, the fine, clean lines to his exquisite features. It had always been Falco's eyes that had fascinated me most. So large, such an unusual, intense green set under the delicately arched black brows. Those eyes were filled with urgency now as he stared at me, anger filling the dark, liquid pools.
"If it were anyone else they would be dead!" he snarled and pushed past me roughly, moving so fast my poor mortal eyes could not keep track of him. He was a flash of black and white that I barely registered passing before I was standing alone with my hand still on the doorknob.
I slammed the door and ran back to the bedroom. The grisly scene had taken on a new depth of morbidity, for when I arrived mere seconds after Falco, he'd already gashed his wrist open and was holding it to Nik's hungry mouth! Nik, cradled in his vampire father's arms, drank greedily of the blood offered him, clinging weakly, in desperation, terrible sighs of pain between the small pulls and gulps. With one arm under his shoulders, Falco held Nik close, supporting his head, offering his blood to the wayward child removed from him by a generation, but still his child. Forever his child.
Not knowing what else to do I pulled the comforter from the bed and tucked it in around Nik. His eyes darted to me, he recoiled further into Falco's embrace, his mouth opening, gasping for air as though the blood were suffocating him. His head fell back weakly, his arms, too, fell limp. He was barely conscious, but conscious enough to remember that I'd hurt him. Instinctively he feared me now, especially in this weakened condition.
"Nik," I began, wanting to tell him how sorry i was, but Falco silenced me with a glare. I backed away, sickened by what I'd done, mortified at the sight of the two vampires in that awful pool of blood, in their life or death embrace! But thank god. Thank god Falco had come!
Falco stood, easily lifting Nik and carrying him to the bed. He leaned over him and whispered to him, smoothing his hair gently, then turned away and came back to me. Blood stained his white silk shirt and the knees of his gray wool pants. It was on his hands, and his face. On his lips. His wrist stillbled, dripping onto the carpet, mingling with Nik's. After a moment he drew a handkerchief from his pocket and bound the wound. He looked over at the still unconscious couple. The old man had merely passed out, but the girl looked terrible. Her skin was ashen and she was barely breathing. No emotion crossed the vampire's face. None, that is, until he turned back to me.
"I will tell you this one time," he said, his voice so low the very air around me resonated with the vibrations of it. "You will never raise a hand against him again. Ever!"
"You must understand, I did not mean to hurt him! Only to keep him from killing that woman. I...."
"Her fate was sealed before you even thought to make your gallant attempt to save her. Do you not know that Nik kills now? He has grown beyond that human remnant of humility and benevolence toward creatures weaker than he! Gone is the frightened little vampire you last saw, taking only the little drink here and there so as not to damage his victims! He has grown beyond such foolish notions and accepted what he is! And with that acceptance the knowledge that he has the power over life, and thus the right to take it as meets his needs!"
I did not want to believe that Falco's take on the situation was the truth. I could not picture Nik killing wantonly, without remorse for his victims or regard for those they left behind. I turned to the woman, she had let out a feeble little cry. I started to move toward her by Falco's hand on my arm stopped me.
"Leave her. She will not survive the night."
"But what will we do with her? And what about the old man?"
Falco looked at Samuel then back to me. "He will be of some use to us. A very rich gentleman. Nik chooses his victims well."
I did not wish to pursue the topic any further. I felt such disgust at Falco's lack of compassion, the off-handed manner with which he chose to deal with these poor victims. But then, these were not things that I dealt with on a regular basis. Perhaps I, too, would become hardened to the fact if murder were a part of my everyday existence. But at the moment I could not deal with it. I didn't want to discuss any of it. I did not want to know how the money would be gotten out of the old fossil. My only concern, the only one I could afford to contemplate was with how the body of the girl would be disposed of. But before I could question him any further on this, Falco suggested that I leave.
"It would be best for you to leave this place altogether. Go and leave your friend in peace. He can no longer be a part of your life. Your worlds are too different. You can never understand his, and his recollection of yours is, mercifully, beginning to fade."
I cannot say why, but I found it so hard to believe that the things he was trying to tell me were true. However, it was certainly no time to argue this point, nor waste any time discussing a friendship he had no hopes of comprehending. Instead I took the opportunity to pique his curiosity enough to buy some time for Grayling. Surely he knew he was here, sensed his presence. I asked him straight out.
"Of course I know he is here. And before you ask, you needn't worry. No harm will come to him. We know of his work. Though he has risen against us in one sense, he has done much to help us in another, and for that we are thankful"
I nodded my appreciation and turned to leave, but first had to take another look at Nik. He was sleeping, still very pale. I could not tell if the gash to his temple had healed any as his head was turned away from me, but the pillow was only faintly stained with his blood so I chose to do myself a favor and take this as a good sign. I reached down and wiped a smudge of blood from his cheek that Falco had missed. It was so difficult to leave him. I wanted to be there when he awoke. But it was not wise. The best thing would be to collect Grayling and lock ourselves safely away in our room for the duration of the night. There were sure to be more vampires about on this evening. I was positive Falco did not travel alone, but with an entourage of Vampyre and Moroi both.
The next evening found both Grayling and myself at Nik's suite. After much pounding the door was answered. I should not say that I was surprised to see Hunter. My companion, however, was none too pleased. By the look in Hunter's eyes I could tell there was no love lost between these two. He stood back, holding the door to admit us, then closed and locked it securely. I did not wait, but headed straight back to the bedroom. I stopped in the doorway taking in the scene. Samuel and the woman had been removed, as had all traces of what went on the night before. The carpet no longer resembled the scene of a mass murder, but was in pristine condition. And Nik. He was just emerging from the reading room, apparently just risen from his coffin in the chamber beyond. He stopped in the doorway, his eyes glassy, his complexion terribly pale. There was a rough red scar six inches long running from his hairline over his temple and down along the side of his face with a jagged half moon cutting across his brow from the hook end of the poker. My heart dropped to think that I had inflicted such a wound to him. That I had, indeed, killed him. I hated myself in that moment and could not bring myself to look in his eyes, for there was no hatred there toward me, and I felt terribly ashamed. The only emotions in his eyes were a little fear, and a great deal of sadness. No words needed to pass between us to convey what each of us was thinking in that moment. The truth of the matter was that I had acted in the only way that I could at the time. The man that I was could not allow an innocent to be murdered without stepping in and doing whatever I could to prevent it, even if that meant killing my best friend. The person I loved most in life.
"Do you understand now what I am?" he asked softly. It was a sweet and simple question. "Do you see why I cannot be near you, or Jenna or anyone that I love? What I am cannot be controlled. It is too powerful. More powerful than the man I was. Or will ever be again."
I moved to him, my hand outstretched. "No, Nik, it cannot be so."
He turned his head away and walked to the fireplace. The poker had been replaced, wiped clean of his blood. He picked it up and held it in both hands. "Had you not stopped me ... I would have taken you next."
His statement shook me. I would not accept it, even though it came from him I could NOT accept it, and said as much in a faint whisper to myself.
"Well accept it!" he said, bending the poker easily between his hands then tossing it against the hearth. Stone chipped and flew in several directions behind him. "Accept it and make sure that Jenna, as well, accepts it or you shall not last long! Though Falco's word forbids others from harming you, his decree carries little weight with me!"
Nik's eyes shot across the room to where Grayling, Hunter and Falco had entered. His eyes became liquid and clear instantly, seething with rage.
"I do not believe you," J said, my own anger building. "No more than I believe that you have given up so quickly on yourself!"
"Gentlemen, please ... " Falco said diplomatically, walking to the center of the room between us, holding his bands gracefully before him. "We have a full agenda this evening already without dredging up more issues to debate."
I felt something burning the back of my neck. Figuratively speaking. Turning, I met Hunter's gaze. Obviously he knew of the events of the previous evening and was not very happy with me.
Nik became quiet, turning to lean on the mantle. Falco regarded him silently for a moment; it seemed he thought better of his off-handed belittling of the issues between Nik and I, but it was too late to take back his comments or make right the wrong he'd just committed. He turned back to the rest of us, addressing me seriously.
"Dane, you say you have the transmuting device? Where is it now?"
"Why, it is back in the room. In the hotel downtown."
"And you are sure of this?"
"Yes, quite sure. I hid it behind the radiator and...."
"It is not there! The entire room was searched, every inch! The damned radiator totally dismantled along with every other conceivable hiding place. The Intruder must have followed you here."
Falco paced across the room and back. "You will need to find Jenna. Bring her here where we can protect her," he said, and his words caused Nik to explode in rage.
"She will not be brought back into this! The safest place for her is where she is now. As long as she is far away from us the Intruder will have no use for her! As long as she cannot be used as a means to get to us it will not bother with her! You will leave Jenna out of this or I swear I will kill you all myself!"
Nik stormed past us and left, slamming the door behind him. I started to go after him but Hunter barred my way. "Leave him alone," he said in a growl.
"Yes, Dane, let him go. He is already late and Madeline will be none too pleased."
So I was right. He did still care! This posturing and threatening about how we would be unsafe around him was all an act. For the Intruder, of course! Oh, I was so sure of it in that moment. I still am!
"We need to devise a plan. We must all work together. We must trust one another. Or we are all doomed," Falco stated.
And so it was, Jenna. We sat up most of the night trying to come up with a plan to trap the creature. Nik returned just before dawn. Falco and Hunter had left a short while before. Grayling before them, back to the room where he could get in touch with Ingrid and bring her up to date, and then to settle up with the helicopter pilot who was still in our employ. We would not be needing his services after tonight. Falco had a car and driver arranged to take us to his ranch some miles away. (He preferred that we not utilize the services of the helicopter pilot as the terrible noise of the machine was not conducive to the well-being of his llamas). I was waiting alone in the kitchen, sitting on the counter and drinking a glass of milk. I was incredibly hungry, I couldn't remember the last solid meal I'd had. Room service, fortunately, ran round the clock, and were kind enough to bring me a sandwich and glass of milk from their limited "midnight to dawn" menu. Nik came in closing the door and leaning his back against it, unaware of my presence. He laid his head back, closing his eyes and bringing the back of his hand up to wipe his mouth. His blood stained mouth. He looked as though he'd been in a fight, his clothes torn and tattered, and covered with dust. The sleeve of his shirt was ripped away from the shoulder and deep scratches marked his skin. But they were already healing. And the scar at his temple, too, was looking much better than it had several hours previously. I set my glass down loudly on the counter to let him know he was not alone.
"Dane," he said without opening his eyes or moving from the door. He began laughing then, a strange laugh that he had trouble controlling. "Dane, help me to my room. I am ... unable to take another step unassisted."
I jumped down from the counter and reached him just in time to catch him.
"What in the world," I began, putting an arm around his waist and steering him toward the bedroom. I aimed for the bed but he pointed to the reading room.
"No, I must sleep in there. It is the only safe place for me during the day," he said, so we stumbled through until we entered the chamber. He fell into his coffin, gasping for breath, still giggling sporadically when he wasn't staring wide eyed at the ceiling.
"Heroin," he said, softly, calming himself and taking on a somber expression. "I couldn't taste it until it was too late."
He reached his hand out and took my arm. "Tell me, my friend. Would you rather die by a needle ... or by the embrace of a vampire?"
His eyes drifted from mine back to the ceiling, then started to close as the sleep began to take him.
"Without question," I said softly. "A vampire."
But he did not hear me....
Jenna's diary....
Dane's letter went on to say that he awaited word for me now at Falco's ranch. He would let all of them know, but only with my permission, that I was here, and to please let him know my intentions as soon as possible. He would prefer, of course, that I head back to Wyoming, agreeing with Nik that if I was far away from them, out of the picture, the Intruder would have no reason to try and involve me again. But there was no decision for me. I needed to see Nik now more than ever. But I told Dane not to tell anyone that I was here. Not even Nik. I asked that he give me the directions to the ranch, and to the hotel in the mountains where Nik lived.
Fear gripped me. I needed an ally, and the only person available to me was Feral. I decided to go to her as soon as possible. I could tell her now where Grayling was. I already knew how to reach Nik. But I could not remain alone and unprotected. Not with the Intruder so near, and now that it had its transmuting device back there would be no way to recognize it until it was too late.
June 20
When I knocked on the front door of Feral's house it was late evening. I was not even sure if she would be there. Greta opened the door, her head turning up as she looked down her nose at me in great disapproval.
"Mistress Feral was not pleased to find you gone when she woke," she announced.
"Look, Greta, there isn't much time. We are all in great danger and I must speak with her as soon as possible. Is she in?"
Greta considered my words for a few seconds, then stepped back to allow me to enter.
"She will be back shortly. You may wait in the 'white room' for her."
I did not wait for her to show me the way. I sat on one of the chairs near the glass wall, staring out at the stars, watching the little boat that floated out in the lake with two lovers on board. I marveled that love was present here. That it survived anywhere when there was so much sorrow and heartache. I, myself, doubted strongly that I would ever love again. That I would ever be able to get over Nik and the feelings that I had for him still. Even after reading of how violently and without thought he'd killed that woman. How he must every night go out and find another victim. That he had risen to this new level where he took life rather than take just the little he needed to survive. That he actually revels in the power he has over death! That ... his being immortal is something he takes pride in. That he relishes the feel of taking life, stealing it for his own.
A movement caught my eye. Feral walked into the room, not enraged as I thought she would be, but with a rather peaceful expression on her face. "Jenna, I'm glad you're back."
She walked over and sat down next to me. "I was worried not hearing from you," she said, and laid her hand upon my knee.
"I am fine. I need to tell you what is happening."
I explained to her the letter from Dane, outlining only the finer points that she needed to be aware of. That the Intruder was here and had its power back again; that it could be in the body of anyone now. That Dane and Grayling had had contact with Falco and were with him now. That we must go to them and assist them in any way we could, for it was all of our lives that were at stake with this creature on the loose. She listened calmly to every word without interruption.
"But tell me, Jenna, would it be wise for you to be involved? As Nik and Dane have both pointed out, the farther away you are the less likely you are to fall victim to the Intruder again. Better that you leave it to us, no?"
I knew she meant "to beings stronger, more agile, more cunning" than I. Creatures more capable, more equal as opponents. Better adversaries than a mere mortal could ever be.
I would have none of her reasoning.
"Feral, as I have told you before, I need to speak with Nik. I must see him. This may be my last chance."
"Very well then. The people we both seek are in the same location. We no longer have a need for you to gain admittance by acting as though you wish to join them. You've no longer a need to HAVE a reason for going to them. Your being in this city now warrants their protection by taking you in. I, on the other hand, can not so easily arrive at Falco's ranch and seek shelter. I was cast away by the Family many, many years ago for my refusal to comply with certain rules."
"Perhaps if you tell me I may be of some assistance. Perhaps ... some guidance in figuring out a solution," I said.
Feral looked at me with kindness, smiling, and patting me on the knee.
"I do not think there is anything that you could do or say to alter their decision. But it is sweet of you to care. And I will tell you what happened, for no other reason than you care. I am unique among my kind. There is only one like me born each millennia. I am of the Rosch Lance. I am able to bear a child, as a mortal woman can."
I stared in disbelief. This part of the legend, the myth of the vampire was something I'd never heard of before.
"Twenty three years ago I did give birth. After three hundred years as a vampire I had come of age. Falco, as the dominant male vampire, had the right to mate with me. He was the only male capable for he was the only one with the power necessary to withstand the ordeal of the mating ritual. We coupled and I conceived. I carried the baby for three full years; the gestation period of the vampire child is quite long and complex. When I gave birth ... it is not expected that the Rosch Lance will live through the ordeal, very few have, and they were driven mad from the experience. Somehow I not only survived, but did so with all my faculties intact. The ancient laws state that the child goes to the father. But I wanted my son. I refused to hand him over to Falco. And I had no desire to remain with him, as I would have no say in raising my child. To me it was unconscionable. So I fled one night, taking my baby with me. I knew that it would be only a matter of time before Falco caught up with me, that my days were numbered, so I took the child to Europe, to Italy, and left him on the doorstep of a poor peasant family with a letter and a fortune in bank notes. The letter promised more, and that the money would continue to come as long as they took care of the child, loving him, providing a good education and decent moral upbringing. They were a kind couple with nine children of their own already, but they took my baby in and gave him all the love I could not. I came to the states. Falco searched for years to no avail. He'd no idea that the child remained right there, virtually under his nose. My coming to the states led him on a false chase. He'd not had the opportunity to bond mentally with the child and so could not use his telepathic powers to pinpoint his location. And my child was not born Vampyre. A rare anomaly, but this was the one thing that kept him safe. I myself was untouchable, as all Rosch Lance are. The most that could be done to me was expulsion from the Family, which took place immediately. After twenty years Falco grew weary of chasing me back and forth across the Atlantic, and settled permanently once again in Europe. He had not given up, but had merely resigned himself to his faith. That his son would someday, somehow, find his way back to his family.
I have been alone ever since, traveling only every two years or so back to Italy to steal a few hours with my son. I risked so much, for Falco had me watched carefully. Discreet meetings had to be arranged, the kind couple doing whatever they could to assist me, to allow me my few hours with my beautiful boy-child.
He never knew that I was his mother. I was introduced from the start as his aunt. The wealthy aunt, the eccentric world traveler. Oh, he was the most beautiful, the most precious child! I loved him with all my heart. Over the years I watched him grow into a handsome, strong young man. He was filled with all the passion that life had to offer."
Feral grew quiet then, her eyes drifting to the glass wall, staring out into the night. Sadness fell over her, coloring the love of her memories.
"Last year I received a letter from him. My worst fears had come true. Falco's faith in what would eventually happen ... came to pass. My son had found his Family. Oh, of course he had no idea of who they were to him. He knew only the fascination. Vampires! The beautiful mistresses, the seduction. His desire to become one of them. His letters became so intense, his desire spilling over onto the pages as he wrote to me of his discovery of the beautiful creatures, the realization of who he was, that it was much more than a desire, it was a need. A life sustaining need.
Of course I went to him, to try and talk him out of it. I used every argument that I could think of, but all I succeeded in doing was driving him further from me. I felt so hypocritical. I became angry with him for not trusting me, for not listening! But how could I have blamed him for that which was born into him? It was a natural instinct that called him. It was in his blood. He begged me to understand, to find peace in the fact that he felt, for the first time in his life a sense of belonging. Of purpose. The Vampyre, he said, and their world were the only things that were real to him. To look back at his life, he explained, though he loved his mother and father and brothers and sisters, it all seemed nothing more than a dream. A dream from which he woke when he found the Vampyre, his family. This was the best that he could describe it, and I understood. But I would not give him the knowledge he needed to fully understand what was happening to him. At the time I thought it best to withhold the truth. That I was his mother and Falco his father, and that he was the con and heir. No. I would not tell him this! Perhaps I was scared that he would embrace the knowledge and fall at his father's feet. Perhaps I could not bear to think of Falco winning at last. Selfish thoughts. Childish, silly notions that had no place in the scheme of things. For he did in the end go to them. He went to them as a slave instead of the prince he was. And my heart broke at this. It was too late. I was too late. I had failed to protect him. The mistress who chose him when he went begging to them found out soon enough who he was. All she needed was that first taste of him, to taste Falco's blood and mine to know that she possessed the greatest treasure of the Strigoi. The child of a Rosch Lance! And he was twenty three, a mere two years away from full maturity, that point in his life where he would cease to age. That point that he becomes a true Immortal, free to walk by day or night! It is the most sought after, the most unattainable state for a vampire. It is what we envy you mortals for. The source of our greatest pain. If she could keep him until then, under her power and oblivious to who he was ... she could take over the Family! Where Falco had ruled for centuries she could step in, in possession of the prince's life, with his blood flowing through her veins ... Jenna, I know this is all so much for you to try and take in and understand. But my son, with every passing day comes nearer to destruction! His mistress waits patiently for him to reach his twenty-fifth year and with it the peak of his power. At this point she will kill him, drawing all of his life into her body! And with his life all of his abilities. She will be free to walk in the sun. To heal instantaneously from any wound. Nothing ... absolutely nothing can touch her! I cannot let this happen! His mistress, though quite clever and cunning, is ... insane. She would rise up, drunk on her power and leave a path of destruction so wide that the world would know of our existence and seek to eradicate us completely. As much as I hate Falco and the ancient ways that have kept me from my son, the time has come for me to give up what I foolishly thought was so rightfully mine. I must give up my son to Falco, to the Family ... and be done with it. I have come to understand that Falco guards the ways of the Ancients out of much wisdom and experience. He alone can protect the child of the Rosch Lance and see him through his time of maturation, that year long period of his life where he is at his most vulnerable. His mistress, as she has not committed any crime, will not suffer the final death, but only expulsion as I have suffered. Well, she I will deal with myself. But my son will be safe. He will sit as his Father's side. I will never see him again after that, but it is a small price to pay. I can see that now."
Feral sat for quite some time in silence then. I slowly assimilated all that she had told me, feeling at once the pain she'd suffered, the years of loneliness, the solitude, the anguish. And now the bitter realization that all of her suffering had been for the wrong reasons. That in her selfishness she had created a situation far worse than had she simply done what had been decreed by ancestors long dead. She had let her own needs cloud her judgment, and in so doing had brought the child she loved so much to the brink of destruction. Her one wish now was to correct her errors. And she would pay whatever price she had to.
EIGHT
Dane's diary July 14th, 1996
Falco's plan. I don't know that I should call it cruel or treacherous. If I'd been in his position I can't say that I wouldn't have done the same. At least we are all still alive. And from my sick bed I am at last able to write down what happened from my perspective, and include, a little later in this narrative, the last entry from Jenna, which she'd written in secrecy and managed to get to a mutual friend. First I will need to pick up where my diary left off just under a month ago....
The last word I'd received from Jenna was that she had an ally, a vampires by the name of Feral. She asked me directions to the ranch, and to the hotel where Nik had been living. She made it very c'ear that she would see Nik, and that I was not to tell anyone that she was here. I did not know that there was much wisdom in her decision. I felt that Falco, at least, should know that she was here in order to set out a net of protection. It was not an easy decision to make, and I made it only out of my concern for her. I cannot say that things would have turned out any differently had I gone against her wishes. I don't think they could have turned out any worse. But in hindsight I wish I had told Falco, that he had known sooner.
Grayling and I arrived at the ranch on the 23rd of June. It was especially hot in the city, but out there we were almost in a different world. The ranch was situated at the base of the mountains near the mouth of a canyon. The wind swept down from the cool peaks to the northeast, keeping the temperature in the 70's. Falco's driver turned out to be a young vampire named Pavel. He was from the "Old Family" in Europe, just recently arrived in the states. Russian, his features were dark, and he spoke with a strong, rich accent. He'd picked us up from our downtown hotel in a black limo with very dark tinted windows. The drive took about an hour. I got the distinct impression that he and Grayling knew each other, but neither "actively" let this be known to me.
When we stepped from the limo the air was so clean it almost hurt my lungs to breath it. The aroma of livestock and feed and leather scented the air. I could hear some horses in the distance, but could not pick out any sounds that I thought might be the llamas. I don't know ... I'd never heard what one was supposed to sound like.
Pavel led us from the circular drive to the front door. He did not knock before opening it with his key. Once we were inside he locked it and punched in a code for the security system, then motioned for us to follow him. This was an important piece of information. He was obviously one of Falco's most trusted followers.
The ranch house was Spanish, with a lot of tile, wrought iron and adobe work. It did not seem to fit Falco's style, his old world tastes and love of classical lines. But as we proceeded deeper into the house I could see that renovations had begun. By the time we came to the room he was in I no longer felt that I was at a ranch, but in a castle removed several hundred years from the present.
Falco sat at a long table in the dining room. It was set with an antique silver service and crystal. Fresh fruit adorned a huge platter in the middle of the table, and the wine decanters were full. Fresh baked bread filled the room with a delicious aroma rising in its steam. Pots of butter and honey, and preserves of varying fruits and spreads in glass dishes were -lined up neatly between the candle sticks. Even a beautiful coffee filled urn and matching tea pot stood by. Falco motioned for us to sit, and once we did a maid approached to fetch for us whatever we wanted. Grayling and I both dec-lined the offerings for the time being. The maid, slightly disappointed that she could not be of service, retired back to the kitchen until such as time as she would be called upon. Falco did not press us to eat or drink, but instead wasted no time in getting straight down to business.
"From this moment on you both will remain here. It is far too dangerous for you to be out there."
Grayling straightened, readying to argue but I put my hand on his knee under the table to quiet him. Falco was right.
"We have no intentions of leaving, at least for the time being," I said quickly. I felt a sudden sense of foreboding. Actually, it had been with me since the last time I saw him and it was discovered that the transmuting device has been stolen from my hotel room. That device was Grayling's and my insurance. Our protection. "But I must ask, Falco, what you intend to do with us."
Falco looked at me calmly, his liquid emerald eyes moving over me slowly. "What I intend to do with you," he said, and with such a gentle melodic tone that I felt myself sway. It was almost a floating sensation that enveloped me. My scalp tingled suddenly, and I could not take my eyes from his. I knew he was reading my thoughts, and could do nothing to prevent it. "There is something that you fail to see," he said closing his eyes briefly, breaking the connection. I took a deep breath, realizing that I hadn't taken one the entire time he'd been in my head. "You have thought that the transmuting device was a critical piece. A piece insuring your safety. You have felt that armed with such a powerful tool, indeed the tool that can be the key either to our destruction or salvation, has given you the upper hand? Hardly. It is simply that I have no need, or desire to kill you. First of all were I to harm you, Nik would never forgive me. And I am quite fond of Nik despite his predilection to hold onto things mortal. Secondly, you amuse me. I have taken an interest in this friendship you share with him. That his being a vampire has not repulsed you is intriguing to me. And your strange alliance with Grayling. This, too, is most intriguing."
Though Falco spoke very sincerely, and in no way condescending or insulting, Grayling was getting angrier by the moment.
"It has been ... so long since I have witnessed such a relationship. Your faith and love for your friend has survived amidst the most hazardous of odds. You have risked your life several times to find him. You leave your home, your job, and your life on the slim chance that you might be able to at best ease his mind; to assure him that you still love him. Fascinating."
I regarded the vampire solemnly for a moment. He was being entirely honest with me. He found much wonder in this purely emotional non-logical human act. It touched him deeply, and I remembered months before, reading in Nik's diary of how Falco had been touched by his brief association with the human slave girl, Lily. The girl who he watched die in Hunter's arms.
"Has it been so long, Falco, that you have forgotten what it is to be human? Have you truly forgotten?" I asked, myself fascinated to ponder the possibility that such a thing was possible.
"Forgotten," he said softly, looking to Grayling and then back to me. "I don't know that this would be the correct term, or even the correct way to approach it. It is more the inability to allow it within myself. Yes, the allowing is what I have forgotten how to do."
I did not know quite what to say to this. It was not what I expected him to say, so I remained silent, wondering if I was interpreting his words the way he meant them.
"Forgotten," Grayling snarled suddenly. "I wonder sometimes that you ever did feel anything in this life or your previous one. Anything outside of power, and how this has been the driving force behind all that you have ever done! Your power. Your Family. Your control. How could there ever have been a place for love in your dark heart?"
Falco brought one arm up onto the table and laid his fingers over the silver place setting before him. His fingertips glided slowly up and down the length of the knife. "I would offer you my apologies if only I thought you would accept them. But I know you will not."
"Diabolically clever of you," Grayling answered cynically. "And wise, as well, that you do not waste your energy."
Falco threw a harsh glance, then shifted his position. "Our differences are in the past and cannot be changed. Only put aside. I offer you that which was once yours."
My uneasiness grew. Why the sudden change of heart? Something had happened, but what?
"Come back to the Family?" Grayling asked off handedly. Rudely. And in his tone suspicion. But suspicion tempered with certain knowledge that I did not yet possess. You see, I did not have Jenna's dairy at the time. I did not know of the Rosch Lance. And lost on me was the conversation within the conversation that was taking place between the father and his son....
"Yes, come back to the Family. To your family," Falco said gently and with an almost pleading edge to his tone. Grayling stood, pushing the chair out behind him. His eyes were filled with anguish.
"Tell me, my Father, why this change of heart? When, this change of heart? And to whose greater glory, this change of heart?"
Grayling turned and walked from the room. As I have said, I was unaware of the deeper meaning of what passed between the two. That Grayling was addressing his actual father was lost on me. That father and son had disclosed to one another at last, the truth. I sat there in ignorance, and unable to speak.
Falco stood, his eyes still looking at the doorway that Grayling had left through as he spoke to me.
"I must leave for several hours. You will be safe here. Pavel will see to your needs."
He left then, leaving me in the dining hall, in utter silence. I went to the arched window and stared out into the night. The moon was full and just rising above the peaks of the mountain. The canyon, almost wide enough to be called a valley, was cast with a silver sheen giving the landscape an eerie "black and white" feel. I thought that perhaps this was exactly the opposite of what Dorothy from "The Wizard of Oz" must have felt like when her house settled. But unlike her I did not venture forth. I remained in the house and watched as Falco made his way across the lawn. I watched as the moon touched the fabric of his long black coat. I watched the impressions his shoes made in the grass and how the breeze caught his hair. And when he rose from the ground, I watched. And I wondered at the freedom of it. I knew that he went to find Nik. That he would find him and bring him home. And as much as I wanted to be part of it I held back. I was of a separate world.
I turned away from the window finally. Falco had disappeared from my poor mortal night vision long before. I became uneasy, not wanting to remain alone.
Jenna's diary
I do not know the date. I only know that this may be my last opportunity to write.
I managed to beg pen and paper from the groundskeeper yesterday afternoon in exchange for a sexual favor performed through the bars of my cell window which opens onto the yard. When I am finished writing, the promise of another such favor will insure the discreet delivery of these pages to a friend who will then, hopefully, be able to find Dane and deliver it to him. If he still lives ... It is all I hold onto now.
It was the twenty-fifth of June, 1996....
Feral and I followed Dane's directions to the ranch without mishap. Greta rode in silence in the back seat. When we were close enough to see the lights from within the house, we parked the car and walked the remainder of the way. Greta stayed with the car at a safe distance. This little arrangement having been decided upon on our way. If something were to happen, Greta would know what to do. We'd no idea of what we were walking into. If something were to happen, Greta might prove to be our ace in the hole.
We passed a black limo in the drive, the engine hood still warm to the touch, but the house was very still. Feral's keen hearing picked up sounds inaudible to me coming from some distance beyond the house. There were several small structures, guest or ranch hand quarters in the form of bungalows about fifty yards beyond the main house, and then the same distance back and to the right was a large structure that was the barn.
"I can feel them here," she said, then turned back to the main house. "There are some humans in the bungalows. Some more in the barn. But what there is still of the Family is in there," she said, still looking at the house. She put a hand on my arm and we proceeded to the front door. We'd apparently been seen for the door opened to us, a young man barring our entrance. He had dark hair and eyes, very tall and lean. And he was Vampyre.
He looked at me calmly, breathing deeply, I knew, of my blood scent, of my human flesh. I knew the hunger he felt. I cringed slightly, pressing against Feral's body and felt her arm go around my shoulders protectively.
"She is protected," Feral said.
The young vampire smiled slightly as his eyes roamed over my body slowly. "Jenna," he purred and stood back from the entryway, motioning with his hand graciously for me to enter. "Please come in."
I thought that I should have felt much safer in that moment. But something in his eye hinted otherwise.
"You, too, Feral," he added, doing a slight bow that I could not discern to be either sincere or scoffing. Feral wasted no time, her hand at the small of my back, pressing me ahead of her.
"Where is he?" she asked quickly, her eyes darting around what rooms were visible from where we stood.
"Gone," the young vampire said, moving across the entryway slowly, his eyes full and so dark I could not discern pupil from iris. "To what do we owe the pleasure, and the honor of your presence?" he added. Feral only gave him a sharp look to say that she was ignoring his statement.
"I have no time for your attitude, Pavel!" she hissed. "You will tell me where he is!"
Pavel crossed him arms, his smile evil now and without the slightest sign of respect. He laughed softly. "As I said, he is gone. For good!"
I shuddered and, I think, so did Feral. But her expression displayed none of her own anxiety over the visions this conjured up.
"What of Nik? Or Dane?" I asked boldly. Pavel shrugged his shoulders and held his hands up. I could tell he knew their fate and was just toying with me.
"Perhaps the person you truly need to see is Silena. If you would follow me I will take you to her. She has, after all, been expecting you both for the last couple days now."
We'd no choice of course. We allowed Pavel to take us through the house and out the back door of the kitchen which opened onto a lattice work enclosed porch. Pulling back a throw rug he revealed a heavy metal hatch in the floor. Even with his pronounced strength it took both of his arms and considerable straining on his part to lift it.
"Watch your step," Pavel said, too calmly as Feral took the first step down. I moved to follow her, at the last second noticing a movement outside, something large moving through the shadows of the trees some distance away. I hesitated, straining my eyes but decided that I must have been imaging things. I hurried to catch up with Feral, shrugging Pavel's helping hand from my arm.
The winding stair was very steep and narrow. I could not see a thing, it was so dark, but Feral's vision was such that she was able to find a torch and matches set in a recess of the wall. She lit it and handed it to me. Whether she felt that it might comfort me, or whether she felt that she needed both of her hands free ... in case ... I cannot say.
The air became cooler, damper, older until finally the stairway ended and we found ourselves in a hallway. It glistened with moisture sparkling on the moss that covered the surface of the walls. This moss was not green, but an earthy rust-red streaked with veins of scarlet. The scent filled my nose and then my mouth. A fiercely clean scent like that after a rainfall. I ran my hand over its surface, gathering the "dew" and bringing it to my lips. Feral watched as I did so, nodding her head slowly.
"So human, sweet Jenna, but it will ward off nothing."
The quizzical expression on my face brought further comment from her.
"The old myths," she offered. "They are false. Just as with holy water and crucifixes, the dew of the scarlet ochre will not ward off vampires."
I had heard of holy water, crucifixes, even garlic and wolfs bane. But I'd never heard of this.
"At least not the present day vampire, " she continued in a soft voice, and she would have said more but for the scream that first pierced then echoed through the stillness. It came from far down the hallway. Feral motioned for me to be still, and we hastened onward.
The place where the scream had come from was a naturally formed cave. The roof rose up some forty feet overhead and the interior was deep and wide enough to contain the ranch house several times over. Our vantage point was the narrow doorway that led from the hall high up on one wall of the cave. A wide stair carved out of the rock led downward to the floor, which was riddled with hundreds of stalagmites. Another scream drew our attention to just off center of the cave. There was movement in the shadows, voices, and another scream. Feral took my hand and pulled me after her as she nearly flew down the stairway.
We came upon her then. Silena. I could feel Feral's hand tightening about mine until I thought she would break every bone. She let go at last. I stared, almost in disbelief at seeing this creature that I'd only read or heard tale of before. She was as beautiful, as purely evil as everyone had ever hinted at. She stood tall, her long legs encased in high leather boots. All the clothing she wore was a long black velvet cape which parted down the middle to reveal her perfect body. In her hand she held the handle of a bull whip. It led away from her and to a young woman with bobbed, platinum blonde hair who stood tied to a stalagmite taller than she was, the whip wrapped round her and the stone pinnacle both, digging into her tortured flesh. There was not one inch of exposed skin on the girl that had not been touched. Her hair was dripping wet, plastered around her pretty face. Her makeup ran in dark rivulets down her cheeks and spattered over her chest. What must have been her clothes lay in shreds at her feet. They'd been whipped from her body. The girl looked to us weakly, her eyes growing wide, her mouth trying to work to form words, but she had nothing left and collapsed. The ropes dug deeper into her, cutting up under her breasts and between her legs as her weight settled in them.
To the side, Grayling. He was gagged and tied to a stake, though he had not, from what I could tell, been harmed in any way. It was obvious he'd been struggling to free himself, and was distraught over what the girl had suffered with him as witness. Four other girls, human girls, all with long brown hair stood naked near him. They were gagged as well, their arms and legs bearing heavy chains which were bolted down to the floor. All four were sobbing, their faces masks of terror, their bodies trembling, their muffled cries for help directed at poor Grayling who could do nothing for them.
And behind Grayling I could see Dane. And near him the huge creature whose bloodied fists bore witness to the fact that he'd been the one to beat my dear friend unconscious ... or perhaps dead. Dane lay very still on the floor, his head resting in a pool of blood. I felt my knees weaken and the area around me start to spin. Blackness such as I've never known enveloped me. The last thing I saw were Feral's hands reaching for me in slow motion.
When I woke my throat was dry and sore and my mouth so parched I could not part my lips without them feeling like they were cracking in the process. My eyes, as well, were dry. And when I tried to open them the light blinded. Though the light that was shed came only from the torches on the wall I may have well have been looking directly into the sun. I could not move my arms to shield them, nor turn my head more than one or two inches in either direction due to the restraint that wrapped round my head. As my senses returned to me I remembered where I was, and realized that I was no longer at Feral's side, but suspended mid-air in an elaborate body harness. Tight leather belts crossed my front and back. A chain coming down from the top of a wooden frame was secured at either side of my waist with locks. My arms were held out tightly, fastened to the side beams of the frame by chain locked onto the manacles at my wrists, and the same was true of my legs, which were spread painfully wide. As my vision cleared, adjusting to the light and watering enough so that I could open them, I saw Silena looking up at me with a pleased expression on her face.
"You filthy bitch!" a male voice growled angrily. It was Grayling. He was still tied, though his gag had been removed. Behind him stood Hunter, his arms coming around the stake, one holding tight to a handful of Grayling's hair, keeping his head pulled back. And in the other, a dagger poised at his throat! The blade pressed tight against his skin drawing a bead of blood along its sharp edge.
Silena looked over her shoulder at him. "No harm will come to her if you agree to the terms," she said, as though repeating herself for the tenth time. "And the same for your son, Feral, if you agree to the terms I offer you."
Feral, who I saw now standing in the shadows just beyond Silena, was pacing nervously. When our eyes met she turned away, unable to look at me. I began, my voice hoarse, to ask what had happened? How had she allowed this, but Silena cut me off.
"And watch her son die?" she asked dramatically. "Jenna, you do surprise me. I thought you were smarter, quicker than this. But then, you fainted, didn't you."
Silena placed her whip under her arm, and held her hands in the form of a steeple before her as she took several long strides over to me. We were eye level to each other as she spoke.
"To bring you up to date." She spoke slowly. "I am the new head of the Family Strigoi. Falco has, shall we say, gone the way of the sun two days ago. And with him your precious Nik!"
"What?" I heard myself say, but my voice came from so far away I was not sure it was even mine, for pain overwhelmed me. Someone behind me had laid a heavy whip across my back, shattering the air with a loud crack, and my senses as well. I saw Feral tense at the sound, her back now to me. I knew she could make no move to help me without endangering Grayling at the same time.
"They were foolish enough to trust in the wrong person," Silena continued. "It is usually a misplaced trust that will lead a vampire to his death. Usually by a mortal in their employ who has found a way to resist the enchantment long enough to kill his master and thus, regain his freedom."
She reached up with both hands then and took my nipples between her fingers, twisting cruelly, but neither that pain, nor the pain of the whip on my back as it struck again could match that within my heart. Nik dead? It could not be!
"But not this time," she said smiling and blowing a kiss to Hunter. He smiled, revealing his long, dagger-like teeth, eyeing the blood that trickled down Grayling's neck. "This time it was his own kind. Those closest to him, his beloved companions. His own family!"
Tears were already running down my cheeks, my body wracking in sobs, yet I fought to keep my misery in check. The whip struck me again, this time over the backs of my thighs.
"His beloved companions, Ash and Ilona. They have grown tired of his outmoded ways and all his silly rules. When I proposed to them the opportunity that we had in Grayling here they simply could not resist. The temptation of what his blood will give us was greater than any ties they have to Falco and the limited existence we lead. It was easy for them to lure Falco and Nik to their fate."
"You've no idea of what you've done! No idea of what you risk with this blasphemy!" Feral said, her voice chilling in its admonishment. The whip struck me again, this time between my legs and I screamed in agony!
"And you've no idea of what you've given up!" Silena shrieked back at her. "To walk by day or night as the spirit moves you! Truly eternal life! Never a worry or fear that you may not awaken from your sleep because some stupid weak mortal stumbled upon your resting place! Never the need to fear tainted blood, or even the final death! True immortality."
Feral shook her head slowly. "You are truly insane, Silena. The enormity of such power stolen ... to take that which you were not born to ... insane. That you so easily carried out the murder of the very one who made you!"
"Feral, I thought you were beyond all such old world notions. I thought truly you were a vampire of the New Age. When you took the boy child and fled, oh, I did admire you your courage! That you had the fortitude and faith in your convictions to see that you had survived the Ordeal of birth for good reason. To keep your child! To raise the new prince in the new ways! As the times have changed over the centuries, so have we! Yet we are saddled with these progeny of the Ancients! I tell you I do not stop with Falco! All those who seek to stand in my way shall perish! Those who stand by me shall share in the power."
"For all that you say in wisdom, Silena, you say the equal in such ignorance. You dare to take powers to which you are ill equipped to deal with. You seek to take a birthright you are not entitled to for personal gain, not for the betterment of our community as a whole. In such selfishness there is great danger, believe me. I know better than any of you. For all that needs to be changed ... there is one thing than cannot ever change or it will be the destruction of us all!"
Silena laughed heartily. "Grayling is mine now. Your choice is to leave or I will have Hunter cut his throat!"
"Your threats are empty. Why would you kill him? His blood holds all that you have sought in this life."
"But, my dear, you have already stated it. I am insane. I would destroy the child of the Rosch Lance. If I cannot have the power, no one will!"
We all knew she meant it. To call her bluff would be to insure Grayling's death at Hunter's hands. Feral turned away, to her son who would not look at her. He was looking instead at me. I felt at once his sorrow, anger, and helplessness. His father dead. Dane beaten and perhaps dead as well. The woman beaten before him, four others awaiting their own torture session. Women who apparently meant a lot to him. And then me. He certainly didn't know me or owe me anything, but I was suffering because of him. I was one more way to get at him.
The whip struck again, this time from a closer angle so that the long leather tendrils lashed viciously around my chest, stinging my nipples, lapping savagely at my neck! Grayling closed his eyes to me. Feral would not look at me, I was alone! There was no one to turn to. I struggled to free myself, sobbing, begging to be set free but it all fell on deaf ears. Whoever it was behind me came closer. I felt a strong hand at my waist to hold me still, and then something hard and slippery pressing me from behind, seeking to enter me anally! The head restraint kept me from turning to see who my assailant was. I felt the object begin to press further, more and more pressure until whatever it was entered me! The pain was burning, excruciating, intensifying as it was pushed deeper still! It felt now as though my insides were ripping apart! My assailant began to move around my side, his free hand on my thigh, pressing into the welts. His hand continued to moye, around the front of my thigh and then to the inside where it began a slow ascent. Out of the corner of my eye I could see that it was Pavel! His face came close to mine, his lips parting to expose his teeth, nearing until his cheek brushed mine. He moaned softly as his fingers reached what they sought. He thrust the object deeper into me, turning it slowly as he did so! His tongue darted out to trace a line up my cheek to my temple where the restraint strap crossed. He grabbed it with his teeth. I felt them sink through the thick leather and emerge against my skin, pricking me! Instantly a sensation of warmth settled over that area of my flesh, a sensation so calming, so alarmingly soothing that my body began to relax, accepting the foreign object that tormented me most vilely. And as well I felt a certain delight at the feel of his other hand as it toyed with me, teasing the flesh of my vagina skillfully. He pulled away from my face only to lean down to my breast closest to him. Straining my eyes downward, I watched as his tongue licked at my nipple, ashamed at first that he found it hard, then shameless in my delight at the feel of his warm, wet tongue. Warm, yes, and I knew it was warm because he had fed recently and was filled with the blood of some poor hapless victim! But in that moment I did not care. It mattered not that someone had given their life to make him warm. It mattered only that he WAS warm, humanly warm yet possessed of other worldly beauty in this magical state known as Vampyre. The attraction was intense! Knowing that it was a monster, a dangerous, evil, life sucking creature that was giving me such pleasure lent to the eroticism! I knew in my heart it was wrong. I'd only just learned of Nik's death. Dane lay dying or dead only a short distance away. And Pavel, just moments before was defiling me so cruelly, after beating me without mercy. Yet I now found myself moaning and sighing for him to touch me here, there, so sweet....
"So we are waiting for your decision," Silena said with a sigh of boredom. "You know I mean what I say. Will you, Feral, leave and give your word never to return? Or shall I kill him right now?"
To my dismay and utter disappointment, Pavel turned away from me to await Feral's answer. But it was Grayling who answered her.
"I will go with her," he said.
"Grayling, no ... " Feral began but he cut her off.
"I will chose my own fate! But Silena you will give your word that no harm will come to any that I name. They will remain safe from you or any vampire! You will give me your word! Now!"
Silena held out her hands. "It is done. You have my word. Whoever you choose to protect, sweet boy, simply give me their names."
Pavel pulled away from completely then, leaving me shamelessly begging him to come back to me for one moment, and in the next humiliated beyond reason as the effects of the penetration of his teeth wore off.
"Later, my love," he said, yanking what I now saw was a thick rubber dildo from my opening. "We will have plenty of time to play later."
NINE
Jenna's diary continued
Hanging in the frame still, my body aching, all the enchantment that had been the result of Pavel's tiny bite diminished to the point of vague memory. Every breath I took in the agony of my humiliation, finding solace only in the fact that Dane was still alive. It had been just a few moments since Pavel and Silena had left, taking with them the four brunette girls and the brutalized blonde. They'd given their word to Grayling that they would not be harmed. The blonde, Ingrid, would be "restored" to the point all she need do was recover naturally from her wounds, (and she would do this without any scarring, they said). Their safe passage back to Los Angeles would be arranged for, and their memories appropriately taken care of. By the time they got home they would not remember they'd even known Grayling.
Hunter remained still in the cave, politely keeping to the far reaches, watching us closely, but at the same time allowing the privacy Grayling and Feral needed. She had untied him and watched as he tended to Dane. The creature who had hurt him had been Moroi, one of the undead minions of the Vampyre. He, too, was still in the cave, standing near the stairway, like a great hulking statue, frozen, empty eyes staring straight ahead. Feral, I knew, wanted desperately to have a few words with her son, but Grayling would not take the time until he knew Dane was taken care of. Though Silena had, before she left, pricked her finger and let a few precious drops of her blood trickle into Dane's mouth,(again giving her assurances that this would be all he needed to recover), Grayling was still worried. Miraculously, Dane had come around almost instantly, the bleeding from his nose and ears stopped completely. As happy I was that Silena had saved his life, I wondered that he might now suffer that which Grayling did; the vampiric "symptoms", the "infection". I quickly put this off as a minor inconvenience. At least he was alive.
Feral came to me finally and let me down. Hunter made a move as if to stop her, but changed his mind and remained where he was. Grayling, without my asking, gave me his shirt which served to cover me to my knees. So weak that I could barely stand, Feral carried me over to a bench and helped me lay down. I think I went into shock then. My mind was playing tricks on me. Though I knew I had heard with my own ears that Falco and Nik were dead, it somehow did not seem real any longer. I could not, no matter how hard I tried, remember where I was, how I had gotten there, or for a few moments ... who I was, or even whose eyes I was looking into.
I later realized that Feral had been putting me to sleep. Into a slumber that I should not have woken from. She did this to spare me what would be my fate. To spare me the life that lay ahead of me. Had I the choice to make for myself, I would have chosen death. Had I the choice. But I didn't. Without my knowledge and thus against my will, I was given that which was stolen from another, and I live now here, in this cell, the immortal slave of an immortal monster.
But Dane, if you are reading this ... I am able to write only because I hold out a small hope that you still live. That you somehow escaped. That Silena's "word" did not turn to ashes with you as it did with me. And because of this small hope I am pressed to write in my diary once again. To finish that which I started. And pray it will reach you.
You were just barely sitting there when last I saw you. Grayling was with you, my eyes were closing. I think you looked over at me and smiled. It may have just been my imagination, or the beginnings of a dream. Whatever it was, it is my last vision of you. When next I was awake I was no longer at the ranch house, nor even in Nevada. I know now only that I am in some place much cooler, with thick heavy limbed trees and skies most often filled with rolling gray clouds that drop their moisture daily. I can smell salt on the air, and I see and hear gulls in the early morning hours before the sun comes up. But I never see them by the light of day. I never see the light of day.
I have stopped tracking the passing of time. The passing of days. Or should I say, the nights. With what is left of this one I shall finish this entry, for the groundskeeper will be by soon. To collect these pages. And to collect his payment. I will need to hurry to finish.
I do not know if it was the same night or the next when I woke. I found myself here in this cell where I am kept most of the time. I sleep in a chamber just off of this cell, removed from the light that streams through the open window by day. I miss the sun, Dane. I miss you. And ... oh, how I miss Nik.
I do not know who keeps me here. That is, I do not know who is in charge here. I have who I call a "keeper", who you know as Pavel. He takes regular pleasure in me. Pleasures he is obviously due as no one has ever made any attempts to stop him. Sometimes he takes me here in my cell. At others he will take me in various rooms of this place. At still others it is outside by the moonlight. Sometimes it is just the two of us. Sometimes there are others present. Some times these others join him.
Pavel, as you know, is Vampyre. As the weeks have passed I have come to know of his personal life. He is young as vampires go, barely thirty years since his turning. At that time he was but nineteen mortal years old. He is of Russian birth, but grew up in Romania where his family had fled when he was a small child. They ran a small inn out in the country within sight of the Borgo Pass, that infamous doorway to Transylvania. He grew up with the name Dracula a household word; the horror stories of Vlad the Impaler used as a means to keep children on their good behavior. In this isolated, backward little corner of the countryside people still kept garlic on their doors and windows at night, and regularly checked the graveyards for the signs of vandalism from the inside out. Local lore handed down from one generation to the next kept the myth of the vampire alive. And Pavel, when he was nineteen, met Falco. The story, as it has been told to me over the past weeks has piqued my curiosity, adding a measure of limited quality to my existence for I have come to look forward to our "conversations"; Pavel seems to have a need to tell someone his tale. And perhaps, sometime later in my life ... for I have an eternity ahead of me ... I will take the time to write out his story. But for now I must finish mine.
My first day I woke in this cell. I was clothed still in the shirt Grayling had given me, nothing else. No shoes. And I found a tray of food, a pitcher of water and a note written by Pavel stating that I must not worry. That is all it said. Do not worry.
The 12' x l2' cell was comfortable even though it was small. I had one barred window which opened up onto a lush well, tended garden that I could not see very far into due to the dense fog that stood outside. I could hear someone out there, raking, moving about. But I was too frightened to call out. I learned later that it was an elderly man who keeps the grounds. His name is William.
I ate the food and drank the water. There was a small alcove of a room to one side which held a toilet and basin and bath tub. I made use of these, and found hanging inside the small closet within a simple dress, sweater and sandals which I put on. Across the cell from the alcove was a large wooden door. It had a heavy brass door knob and lock. The key stood in the keyhole. I opened this door and was met with very dry, very cold air. I could tell the door had not been opened in quite some time, for the air was old and sterile. There were no electrical lights, only a candle stick and matches sitting on a small table just inside. I had to light it, going through several brittle matches to find one that would light, before I could see the interior. When the flame was lit, and I held the candle stick out before me, my eyes fell on a casket. It shone with an almost mystical quality, the white pearlized exterior catching and holding the sparse light of the flame. The fact that it was closed drew me to it. I can't say why this was, but I found myself walking toward it slowly, the candle stick in one hand, and my other held out cautiously before me. When my fingers touched the cool, silky smooth surface of it my heart raced. Though I wore the sandals provided, the coldness of the stone floor underfoot quickly penetrated the thin soles sending shivers up my legs. When I came to the head of the casket my fingers sought the edge, and I opened it before any consideration. It was empty.
Was it disappointment that I felt? I'm not sure. But I did feel something that was close to that, and it was tinged with a bitter lonely feeling. Looking down at the white satin lining and lace covered pillow I wondered if, perhaps, it were meant for me. If so, no finer could be had.
I spent the remainder of that first day in my cell, gazing from time to time out the window, watching as the day went on how the fog became less, and more of the garden came into my view until I could see beyond to tall pine trees, thick of branch and so green they did not seem real. I noticed that moss covered the ground and some of the trunks of the trees nearest to me. I could hear far in the distance the sound of rushing water. And then, of course, I heard the groundskeeper as he moved slowly about. A couple times I caught sight of him, but just brief glimpses. He never came near my window.
When the sun began to set I became agitated, knowing that I would see Pavel, and meet with whatever it was I had been brought here for. About a half hour after sunset I heard the key turning in the door. It was Pavel, dressed in soft black leather pants, a black long sleeved shirt, full and with limp lace ruffles at the wrists and down the open front. His dark features appeared much softened, much finer drawn than when last I'd seen him. He reminded me very much of Falco, the porcelain beauty of the skin that is so marked by the wavy dark hair and large dark eyes. His eyebrows were thick, but not overly so, and arched to perfection. His mouth full and sensuous. Perhaps too sensuous for a man just as his skin was too soft looking, his stance too elegant. He was suddenly too beautiful, to the point I felt plain and ordinary.
"I see you have at the most suffered boredom," he said gently, extending his hand to me. "I apologize for that. But it was unavoidable."
I took his hand and felt the cold. I pulled away from him immediately, my fingers recoiling instinctively from ... the death of him. There was a slight glint of pain at this rejection, evident across his features. But he recovered quickly, bringing his hand back to himself, crossing his arms behind his back. I was looking closely at him, the pure paleness of his skin, the little hollow to his cheeks, the shadows that played across his eyes. The long veil of black lashes which cast their own shadows across the planes of his cheeks.
"Please, Jenna, come with me," he said finally, and stood back so that I could pass in front of him through the door. Doing so, the coldness that poured off his body touched me briefly, making it so that I could not get past him fast enough. Gooseflesh spread over my back and arms and down my legs. Pavel needed to feed.
He took me through the large house, which was scattered with packing boxes yet to be opened and most every piece of furniture covered with sheets. He explained that this was our new home, that others would be joining us here in the near future.
"I hope that you will like it here. I'm afraid that you cannot go back."
I said nothing to this, but instead let him lead me from one room to the next, each filled with sheet covered furniture and sealed boxes. Some of the rooms were in the process of being painted, rewired, re-floored and various other renovations. The kitchen was fully operative, however, and someone had prepared a delicious meal of stew and cornbread. Pavel himself served me and sat at the old oak table with me while I ate. His eyes watched in fascination the simple act of picking up a spoonful and lifting it to my mouth. He watched my throat with something close to hunger when I drank. But his demeanor was neither rude nor uncomfortable to me. He could have been watching a sunset, or a spider weaving its web, so unobtrusive was his gaze. He seemed very much like a child who will sit and watch and not realize that they are staring. Or that anyone is watching them in return. And because of that, an element of innocence is present which allows for no harm meant or taken.
I still had said nothing to him when I finished and sat back in my chair. He seemed almost in a trance now as he held onto, as he'd been holding for the last several minutes, a spoon, turning it over slowly while contemplating the reflection of the light off of it, which was reflected yet again in his eyes. I wondered how much more he saw in the light with his vampire eyes. Could he see beyond the spectrum that my mortal eyes beheld? I pondered this and many other things in that moment as I watched him. And when I spoke it was not Pavel, but myself who was surprised.
"Did you see them die?" I asked, my voice, though soft, broke the silence in a harsh, unsettling manner. Pavel looked up from the spoon and into my eyes. "Nik and Falco. Were you there?"
Pavel set the spoon down in its place, and still keeping his elbows on the table, laid one arm down and held the other so that his chin could rest in the palm of his hand. In one second he went from the vision of a little boy with no table manners, to a vampire who hadn't any need for them.
"No," he said, a slight irritation to his tone. But which question was he answering? The look that shot from his eyes the next moment closed the subject. He stood and came to me, taking the napkin from my lap and laying it over the empty plate. He pulled me gently to him, up out of my chair until our bodies pressed together. He was so cold that I could barely stand to be so near to him! For all his beauty, for all the enchantment he held, it was the cold death of him I just could not ignore. But I dared not pull away from him. When he pressed my head to his chest and ran his cold fingers through my hair, I had to fight the urge to resist him. The emptiness inside him, no heartbeat ... made me shudder. I felt tears well in my eyes to realize that if this were Nik whose body I pulled close, I would be feeling the same horror in my arms!
"It bothers you," he said softly, his lips brushing my ear as he spoke. "That I am so cold. That I have no heartbeat."
His hands went to my shoulders, turning me around. With a swipe of his arm he brushed everything from the table and sat me on the edge. His fingers were at the buttons on the front of my dress, opening them one by one down to my waist. He leaned close to me and pressed his lips to my neck as his hands closed gently over my breasts. I felt his lips part and the cold as steel feel of his teeth against my skin. I felt them move as his jaw opened slightly. Then the moist tip of his tongue tracing a fine line. His breath quickened in a faint moan. I could feel the hardness of him pressing my inner thigh, whatever little heat his body held having coalesced there to throb with warmth.
His hands pulled the sash of my dress free. He was kissing my face now, my cheeks, my eyes as he worked with blind ease to bind my arms back behind me. He stepped back then and took from the hutch behind him several lengths of thin rope. He spread my legs and tied each ankle out to a leg of the table, and pushed my dress up around my waist.
Slowly he sank to his knees, kissing my body as he went, nuzzling his face in the folds of my dress about my waist, then lower until finally he was at that point where my thigh met with my body. His tongue pressed into the crease of my flesh, his hands squeezing at my waist. Then his head moved lower, down my inner thigh, so close that his soft hair brushed between my legs, making the ache I already felt for him more pronounced so that I gasped at the flood of passion that burst through me, catching me off guard.
Pavel moaned softly as his tongue caressed my flesh, turning from long gentle licks to a ravenous passion as the hunger took control. My body was reeling in excitement, a flood of emotions washing over me. The only thing I was aware of was the luxurious silkiness of his hair, the strength of his tongue and how near it was to assuaging the hunger that burned between my legs when suddenly he bit me! His teeth sank like hot daggers into the flesh of my inner thigh, expertly finding and piercing the artery! I gave a sharp cry, my legs instinctively seeking to close but prevented from doing so by the tight ropes which held them spread wide. He bit deeper, sending another bolt of white hot pain shooting through me and I cried out loudly, screaming, begging for my life for I was so certain that he meant to kill me!
His fingers pressed my waist, his thumbs caressing my stomach moved lower, dangerously close to that part of me that with renewed anguish ached for his touch. I begged him with my words not to kill me, and with my body to take me.
And when he closed his mouth, renewing once more his hold, he began to pull on me, gently at first, urging the flow of my blood, pulling harder, his arms moving around me, so strong! With every swallow he sighed in delight, lost in the vital blood that gave him life. That warmed him even as he held me then. I felt the heat like passion overwhelm him. I felt him moaning into my thigh, nuzzling in closer, tiny, high, quick moans as though he were nearing climax. And for all I know he was. And this thrilled me! To see him taking such pleasure, feeling so much passion, there, on his knees before me! I laid back, my emotions in a whirlwind, and he climbed up on top of me, still sucking at my thigh, his body moving over me, his one hand working at his pants to open them! At this angle his chin was immersed in my wet recesses, moving up and down as he fed, driving me wild with lust. I could feel his Adam's apple moving up and down against me as he swallowed, his moans more desperate now, more urgent! I looked at his tight stomach and chest through the opening his loose shirt presented. I watched as his perfect cock emerged, and then his balls. Beautiful. So beautiful. He was shaved clean, not a trace of hair to hide any part of him from me. I reached up with my tongue to taste him. To feel the perfect length of him, his vein that stood out, pulsing now with a heart that beat! A heart driven to life by my blood! I could feel it in his chest that pressed against my stomach, it beat so hard, so fast. He was alive and everything about him now was wondrous to me! His raging cock against my lips, his cool, tight balls on my cheeks, the strong arms wrapped around my thighs, that perfect face buried between my legs! And knowing the whole time that he had to power to crush me instantly in his embrace! But instead he chose to love me, as a vampire loves.
He moved so that the tip of his cock pressed my pursed lips. I kissed and teased him, finally allowing just the head to enter my mouth. He shuddered as my tongue connected with him, he cried softly when I began sucking, pulling him deeper just as he pulled deeper on me! I longed to wrap my arms and legs around him, to pull myself so close to him that I would climb inside him and be a part of him! But the ropes were unforgiving and held me tight. This struggle only added to the one raging within me. The one that, though it built higher and higher as he worked on me and me on him, grew farther away as he pulled more and more life from me.
I felt him settle down over me, his cock sliding down my throat until he could go no further. His body lay over mine, he was full of life, and heat and passion, and it came bursting into me in one great final beat of his heart that wracked my body as he exploded in ecstasy inside me! His cock jerked and pumped, filling me with his otherworldly seed, sweeter than anything I had ever tasted! His teeth ripped from my flesh as his head was thrown back in the effort of his orgasm, his voice crying out in his dark passion, the table trembling underneath us! With every last bit of energy left to me I pulled on him, drinking down every last drop he could give me until I could do no more and settled with barely enough strength left to breath.
Pavel's delicious nectar coursed through my body like liquid heat, lulling me into a dream-like state of consciousness. I was only dimly aware of him licking the wound on my thigh closed, then moving from on top of me until he sat over my waist, straddling me on his knees. I have a soft blurred vision, a memory of him looking down at me, his lips stained red, his sharp teeth glinting. I watched as he took his one wrist in his hand and brought it to his mouth. Slowly he closed his eyes and bit deeply. His cheeks hollowed just briefly as he pulled once, quickly, to start the flow of blood that would save my life.
And so now, my dear friend, it has come time for me to say goodbye to you. These will be the last words I write. My existence, my world, is better off without any ties to the mortal one I once had. Just taking the time to remember back so that I could write of my last human day has cast upon my spirit terrible depression and malaise. I understand so much better now that which my precious Nik suffered. I can only hope that wherever he is that he is happier than he was in this life.
And to you, my dear Dane, I pray that you are still alive, and mortal, and safe. Would that I could have seen you just one more time before all of this. But all I could have said that I have not said here is simply this: Do not try to find me. Leave me here in Pavel's safe care. Though he keeps me as a prisoner it is for my own good. I have found a new way to love. A new one to love. And there are times when I can forget the horror of it all and feel happiness. God bless you always. Eternally, Jenna.
TEN
Dane's diary, continued
It simply did not seem possible. Nik and Falco dead? Jenna gone, kidnapped by Pavel in the night as she slept. I did not think it possible for a vampire to fall in love so easily. But Pavel proved me wrong. That he chose a mortal woman over the seductress Silena seemed not so unusual. Not after I thought about it for awhile. But she would be safe with him. Safer than had she remained here, for Silena's madness has reached an almost critical point now. Ilona and Ash, the male and female elders who were the second and third points to Falco's first in the triad that made up his council, have returned from doing their unspeakable deed. They went to Silena and reported the task complete, and inquired about Grayling and Feral and what arrangements had been made. Feral tried to avoid die questions, which in turn angered the two culprits. It was becoming clearer as the moments passed that Silena had no real intentions of sharing the power she would glean from Graying once he reached maturity.
It had always been my opinion that none of these three could be trusted. When I had first laid eyes on them months ago I knew without question that this was so. And now, to be here watching them quarrel my stomach turns! They have killed my best friend! They have killed their Father, their leader, and all for selfish personal gain. And they conspire now to kill Grayling when he is of age to satiate their desires to the fullest.
Grayling, who I'd had my doubts about initially, has proven himself worthy. I heard him speaking with Feral when I was still rather groggy, but recovered sufficiently to follow their conversation which I came in on in the middle of....
"Yes, of course I understand," Grayling said gently. "I do."
"My son, this is all my fault. That I thought I could protect you better than your father."
"It is not your fault. Do not waste precious time trying to make it so. The important thing now is that you escape. Silena has given her word that you shall not be harmed. You must go out into the world and seek out the new Father. There must be another child of the Rosch Lance. It cannot be me."
Feral bent her head into her hands, her tears slipping out around her fingers like drops of crystal.
"Grayling, can there be no other way?" she sobbed softly.
"No, mother, there is none. My death is the only thing that will stop her. You know I am right."
Feral looked up at him, the vampire mother looking the child she had fought so hard to protect, knowing that, as his birth once meant, he must now die to insure the survival of their kind. And the secret to this? I still do not know. What is the meaning behind the Rosch Lance? Why the need for a vampire evolved beyond his kind, able to walk by day, able to survive any wound? How can the presence of such a being be of any benefit? Indeed, it seems that the existence of one such as he would cause only treachery and violence and betrayal, as though of questionable character seek the powers for their own use, does it not?
(Ah, but I am merely a mortal trying to understand the ways of the Immortals. It stands to reason that I have not been able to figure it out, even though I have a slight advantage over most humans in that I have been with, lived with, fought with and against vampires for some time now.)
So it was decided that Grayling, too, would die. And as Silena's few precious drops of blood did their magic on me, healing me until I could stand and walk with only some weakness and minor pain, I watched Feral and Grayling as they said their goodbyes to one another. To Silena, Ash, Ilona and the others, this was just the normal farewell. Part of the arrangement made previously that Feral leave and in exchange Grayling's loved ones would not be harmed. But the three of us, Feral, Grayling and myself knew that it was much more than that. I felt a great sense of friendship toward Grayling in that moment. And soon I would lose him, as I had lost Nik, to death final and forever.
I was to leave with Feral, part of Grayling's deal with Silena. But I could not leave him alone, to die in their midst. When it came time for me to say my goodbyes to him, I told him as much. There was gratitude on his face as he declined my offer, and, I think, an unspoken wish that it were possible for him to ask me to do the deed, as he was not sure he possessed the courage to do it himself. But the words never came. Instead he spoke of why he'd made the decision.
"Despite all I have gone through, all I have said, it remains that Falco and Feral are my father and my mother. The Vampyre are my family. I cannot stand by and let the generations perish. Mine is one little life for all of theirs, a small price to pay. With father dead, I can only do what I can to protect my mother and her child to come. For there must be another child. Silena, who is the madness behind all of it, shall perish with me. She will not be able to resist my invitation, and together we shall go down into the final death."
"But must you, as well, die? Surely there must be some other way?"
"None that I can count on as I count on this one, Dane. I will only have the one chance. There is no alternative."
I could not argue with this. However, I did not change my mind about staying on secretly on the slight chance that I might be of some help.
Grayling extended his hand which I shook. I embraced him for a moment, then left without turning back least he be able to read in my face that I was not truly leaving. Feral and I left with few words to Silena or the others. It was only an hour until dawn and she needed to travel by means other than automobile to a safe resting place for the day.
"Greta, my servant, waits just down the road," she told' me. "I will need to inform her of what has transpired and let her know that I will travel on ahead. If you are in need of a ride she can assist you."
I told her I still had the use of Falco's car, bid her farewell and promised that I would be in touch soon. After watching her disappear around a bend in the road, I circled around until I was hidden in a stand of trees a short distance from the ranch house. When the sun had been up for a good two hours, I came out of my hiding place and went back to the house. I needed to be careful of the Moroi that were keeping guard by day.
Gaining entry and getting down into the subterranean cave would be tricky. But I'd already lost everything in life that I loved. The risk became inconsequential....
The Moroi were especially watchful that day. Once I was in the house I'd been trapped in one of the hall closets for several hours as activity was at a high in the rooms adjoining. But around noon time all but one retreated to the upstairs, and when this one nodded off, I quietly made my way past him and into the kitchen. From there I was out the back door, onto the porch and struggling in vain to lift the heavy metal hatch. I could not budge it. My first thought was that there might be another way down there, but where? And how long would it take me to find it, and if I did, what was to say that it, too, was not sealed off with the same? I had no choice. I would have to wait until one of the Moroi came along. I did not have to wait long. The one, Mathias, came walking across the backyard toward me, carrying a large bundle in his arms. The bundle moaned softly, and I remembered well the fact that among his other duties, he brought his vampires nourishment when hunting would be otherwise impossible or bothersome for them.
I dashed behind the pantry closet door which stood open, and waited. But Mathias merely laid the bundle down and went back out the door. He crossed the yard and went inside one of the bungalows. Apparently this was where the victims were held easily accessible out here so far removed from civilization. I realized in a flash how I could make good my way to the cave.
I went to the bundle and pulled the blanket back. It was a young man about my size. I noticed on his neck several pairs of puncture wounds in varying states of healing. It went through my mind that perhaps he'd been kept alive to feed upon more than once because his blood was especially good to them. Perhaps a silly notion, but my thoughts at the time nonetheless, as I pulled him up into my arms and carried him to a safe spot. I then returned and rolled myself as best I could in the blanket, and waited for Mathias' return.
One by one, three more bodies were brought, and then summarily taken down into the cave, mine being the last. I cannot relate every emotion that I felt as the Moroi carried me down. Fear, certainly. A great deal of anxiety and nervousness. And strangely, a deep feeling of regret which grew with every passing moment. The huge arms that held me, I knew, spoke of a man far too strong for me to take one on one. Mathias was nearly a foot taller than me and outweighed me by at least a hundred pounds. He had the strength of ten men. The Vampyre had bred him such, and they commanded his every move. The regret I felt grew from the displaced sense of envy I felt for the vampires in that moment. I envied them their power over the living and the dead. I envied them their haunting beauty. I even envied them their horrific means of survival, for even as they must kill to live, what they gained seemed almost enough to make the fiendish and diabolical deeds palatable. My envy grew from my own sense of bitterness, I knew. That I'd lost my friends, that I could very well lose my life merely because I was human, and inferior to them. I felt for a few moments that I would not mind so much joining with them even if all I gained was that I was able to play on their level. But this lasted only a few moments, for I found myself being laid down on the floor next to the others.
I heard Mathias' footsteps retreating. Lifting one tiny corner of the blanket I watched him cross the cave and ascend the stairs, disappearing behind the curtained doorway at the top. The cave was deserted from what I could see. The bodies around me were stirring slowly, but not sufficiently conscious to waken. There was a great possibility that we were being watched, but I had to take the chance. I slowly pushed the blanket away and sat up. It was incredibly quiet, so much so that when I moved to stand these sounds echoed off the walls.
I did not take the time to inspect the bundled bodies at my feet. I did not want to look upon the faces of people who would most likely perish before the dawn of a new day. Better that they remain anonymous to me least I be haunted by the nightmares of their faces. I had enough to haunt me, I thought as I stepped away from them, to last a lifetime. I arranged my blanket in such a way that there appeared to me a body underneath, then made my way through the cave.
As I have written of before, stalagmites were everywhere. Some small, some towering above me, creating before me a forest of mineral pillars that obscured my view of the far side of the cave. Knowing that I must, I proceeded into them, feeling that at any moment some fiendish being would jump out and grab me. The floor of the cave was mercifully covered in a layer of fine dust that obliterated the sound of my footsteps, this my only defense. That I could walk unheard.
Mine was not a straight path, but one that cut to the right and the left like a maze until I finally emerged on the other side. Grayling was sitting on a small cot, his arms resting on his knees, his head hung in thought. He looked up slowly, sadness crossing his face.
"How did you get down here?" he asked. Not why, but how.
I explained briefly, then waited for him to put it all together. We had several hours before the vampire would rise, and this would give us an ample head start. He shook his head slowly.
"Nothing can change, Dane. I cannot leave with you. I cannot leave as long as Silena lives. Our only dilemma is getting you back out of here before you are discovered."
I begged him to listen to me. That we could escape, that we could figure out some other way of disposing of Silena and the threat of her existence, but he would not hear any of it.
"We have no time, Dane. They are risen already, protected from the sun down here they have need to sleep very little. As they are older, they require less sleep. They plan to leave at nightfall, taking me with them. Back to Europe and their allies so that Silena can proclaim herself the new leader of the Family."
I tried to protest further but he would not allow it. "You have done nothing but endanger yourself, and needlessly at that. I thought I made myself quite clear. To both you and my mother."
Grayling stood then and came near me. He placed a hand on my shoulder and looked deep into my eyes.
"I know that the loss of Nik is painful. That Jenna, as well, is all but lost to you doubly heartbreaking. For you to have come risking your life on my behalf is flattering to say the least. But it is a risk you should never have taken. You must hide yourself and wait for the next opportunity to escape. I do not think Silena will be so kind as to allow you to just walk out of here again with her blessing."
And so we could not leave. Not even if he had wanted to. Silena and the others would be here soon to take their nourishment and begin the preparations for their departure. Grayling led me to a small alcove, a fissure actually, in the surface of the cave wall back very near where the bodies lay. I had to crawl to get in, and once there had to remain on my hands and knees with my legs tight up under me. It was very dark and damp, and the feeling of the millions of tons of rock pressing in on me from all sides lent to an immediate and overwhelming sense of claustrophobia.
"Keep quiet and do not move. I hear them coming. When ... it is all over, leave and never come near this place again," he said in a whisper. He made a move to leave but turned back. "I will miss you, my friend," he said, and before I could answer he pulled away. I watched as he took the blanket that I'd been wrapped in and tossed it to the side, empty. And it was just in time for I soon heard voices. Then I saw them. Silena, Ilona, Ash, and Hunter. They came near the bodies and one by one removed the blankets. Three women, all young and in very good health from the looks of them. None had, from what I could see, been touched before.
"Where is Brock?" Ilona questioned to no one in particular. She noticed the empty blanket and got an evil look in her eye. "So, the naughty boy wants to play a little hide and seek with me. Damn Mathias for not sedating him enough to keep him out! Hunter, come with me and help me find him."
"The boy is lucky, Ilona, that you have developed such a fondness for his sweet blood," Silena chided.
"He is not that lucky any longer. I regret that these foolish antics of his will make this my last meal of him!"
Ilona and Hunter moved out of my frame of vision in search of the boy, leaving Ash and Silena with Grayling and the three girls who were beginning to wake fully.
"I would like the little red head," Ash said, and moved to extend a hand to the girl. She flashed enormous blue eyes at him, took his hand and allowed him to pull her to her feet. She was completely disoriented, frightened, and Ash seemed to her someone that could help. Ash's charming smile and good looks only reinforced her first impression of him. She mumbled about the last thing she remembered was standing in line outside of a club, waiting to gain admittance to a rock concert when something caused her to leave her place in line and walk into an adjacent alley. She did not remember what or who it might have been, nor could she remembering even entering the alley, but she was quite concerned that her parents had gone back to the club looking for her, and that they would be worried that she'd not been there.
""Please, sir, you must help me get home!" she begged teary eyed.
Ash put a comforting arm around her shoulders, and brushed her lovely hair out of her eyes with his other hand. "There, there, child. You needn't worry about a thing. Your parents are well and know you are safe."
It was a lie, and a ridiculous one at that, but the girl was enchanted already and had lost all fear. She smiled sweetly as she put her arms around his waist and hugged him. She watched with detachment as the other two girls rose up, one chosen by Silena, and the other by ... by Grayling!
Just as cleverly, with just as much power to enchant, he, too, took a girl into his arms and as a group they moved away from where I could follow them with my eyes. In all honesty I can say that I knew then what they planned on doing to the girls. And, I should have made good an escape while their attention was diverted in the act. But I could not.
There was no reason for me to stay; nothing I could have done to prevent the vile fate of the girls. I stayed ... I don't know why I stayed.
And I left my hiding spot, following them from a distance, following their footsteps in the dust until we were back at that area where I'd been beaten and Jenna tortured just the night before. But instead of Jenna, it was the red headed girl who was being manacled into the frame while the other two were tied to the side posts. They allowed this meekly. And in their meekness allowed that their clothes be removed. Ash and Silena wore on their faces expressions of prurient joy, while Grayling's displayed only the barest hint of it. He stepped back quickly after securing the girl and turned so that I could get a better view of is face. Clearly he was working diligently to keep his thoughts from Silena. Whatever plan he had to dispose of her, he could not allow her even a hint. I wished that there had been time for him to have told me. I could have been of some assistance, perhaps ... But why do I try and fool anyone into believing that there was some noble, albeit phantom reason for my being there? Was it envy, still? Did I envy them also their vile and evil means of deriving entertainment? Was I that far gone, had I been driven to such sordid wickedness by all I'd been through that I wanted to be there purely out of curiosity? Had saturation reached such a level that I was no longer repulsed by what was about to happen?
"Ash and I will go first, Grayling, and you will watch us," Silena said with a derisive tone to her voice. "And I want you to remember what it was like before, between you and I. I want you to remember when you were my slave boy, all the love and desire you felt. The passion, the hunger! The pure enchantment and the joy that was the result. Bliss is what I gave to you, my love," she said softly and picked up a whip. She moved to Grayling slowly, the whip hanging limp at her side. She pressed her body to the side of Grayling's seductively, pressing her breasts into his arm and bringing her leg up so that the inside of her thigh ran over the front of his.
"You do remember how it was, don't you," she purred in his ear, her words a statement of fact rather than a question. "You remember, and you feel inside yourself the longing still."
Silena placed her hand over his cock and rubbed him gently, pulling an erection from him instantly. His eyes turned to dark liquid blue pools, his cheeks flushed. His lips parted slightly as her touch drove a deep path to his soul, bringing up erotic memories, threatening his better judgment.
"But you gave all this up. You changed your ... habits. But perhaps you will change them back?"
Grayling closed his eyes and fought the sensations. "Never," he said, forcing the word past his lips.
"Never? But that is such a final word, my love."
"You have in me what you truly want. My blood. The blood of a Rosch Lance, yours when the taking of it is right."
Grayling pulled away from her, turning his back on her beauty, but not able to block out the sound of her voice.
"Yes, I have that no doubt. When the time is right it is mine."
She moved up behind him and put her arms around his middle, letting the whip dangle down in front of his cock, pressing it there. "But wouldn't it be nice to enjoy things in the mean time?"
Grayling took a deep breath, mustering his courage, fighting to hold onto himself, to resist her. "You have Hunter for such interests, Silena. You don't need me as well. My mind has changed. If you take me you will do so only with a fight. A fight to my death, and then where will you be?"
Silena froze for a moment, then backed away from him. There was anger in her eyes that her words had not worked the magic on him she'd hoped for. But instead of turning her powers of enchantment on him, she turned to the girls. They'd slowly been coming to their senses. The ropes that pressed their bodies, no doubt, had played a part in this. Truly, no one who wished to help them would have done this to them. The one in the middle seemed the most scared now. Both of her arms were strung out horizontally, bound by the wrist to the side beams. Harnesses were around each of her thighs holding her suspended, her legs bent at the knee, legs spread. With each second came more and more realization to the girl of just what a vile predicament she was in. Her embarrassment furthered, as did her humiliation. Her lips were trembling as she sought to hold back her tears as she stared wide eyed at the heavy whip Silena held.
"Oh, my dear, are we frightened?" Silena taunted. "Have you never felt a whip before?"
"N-nno," the girl stammered. "P-pp-please let me go."
Silena approached the girl and held the handle of her whip to her pussy, rubbing it gently, yet making the girl extremely nervous. "Let you go? Now why would I want to let you go?"
Silena moved the handle directly over the girl's clit and tapped softly, making her yelp, not in pain but in the anticipation of it. "Why would I let you go when I can keep you here and play?"
Silena drew the handle down until it rested over the girl's vaginal opening and pressed. The very tip of the handle went in, making the girl shudder in fear.
"Please, please! Let me go, I beg you!" the girl cried, tears now streaming down her face. But Silena was unaffected. She pushed the handle another fraction of an inch deeper. The girl's face contorted in a mixture of fear, repulsion, and utter humiliation. And then a loud scream as Silena smiled broadly at her, revealing her long, glistening sharp teeth to the girl. Realizing what her assailant was, she began to fight to free herself. The other two girls as well struggled, pulling in vain at the ropes that tied their bodies to the posts.
Ash moved up behind Silena, in his hands a huge strap-on dildo. He opened Silena's robe exposing her naked body underneath and lovingly fastened it about her hips. Then reaching around Silena, he took the suspended girl's nipples between his fingers and pinched them tight. The terrified girl's eyes stared down at his hands, her screams choking in her throat when she saw the dildo in Silena's hand heading straight for her.
"Ash, be a love and do something with this whip. I'm going to need both my hands free to handle her."
Ash took the whip and stepped away, walking to the left and eyeing the girl tied there. "Prime her for me. I am especially hungry tonight."
Ash did as he was told to, laying the whip harshly across the girl's ass.
"And you, Grayling, you come and take this one from behind."
But Grayling did not move.
"I said come and take her. Now."
Silena turned her head, looking over her shoulder at Grayling angrily. Something unsaid passed between them, and I imagined that Grayling finally did move to do Silena's bidding only to prevent something far worse from happening.
As he moved up behind the girl she pleaded with him to help her. "Sir, please, I can tell you don't want this! Please help me!"
Grayling placed his hands at her waist to hold her still and looked at Silena.
"You WILL do as you're told. I can't make you like it. But then, you're liking it does not have anything to do with whether Jenna lives or dies."
Grayling's eyes filled with anger, but it was no match for what I felt in that moment. Silena had gone entirely against her word. It was she who was behind the abduction after all. Pavel, the ambitious and rebellious vampire was not solely to blame. Silena must have given Jenna to him!
Angrily Grayling opened his pants and withdrew his cock. He held it in his hand and stroked it as he leaned into the girl's neck, savoring the scent of her flesh, her hair, the nearness of her, and all the while his hate filled eyes riveted to Silena, watching her closely. He masturbated himself until he was hard, then he pressed at her ass. The girl screamed again. Silena laughed and drove the dildo into her pussy.
"Oh, now don't tell me that doesn't feel good, my sweet girl," she said, and smiled broadly at Grayling. "Don't tell me," she continued, still looking at Grayling, "that your boyfriend doesn't fuck you just like this!"
"No!" the girl screamed.
Silena began to pump her hips, withdrawing and ramming again and again into the girl.
"And don't you try and tell me, Grayling, my love, that you don't like what you're doing."
Grayling, still holding his cock, pressed between the girl's cheeks, drawing his cock up and down, feeling for her opening.
"This is what you are now, correct? You take women. You seduce them. You beat them. You derive all manner of pleasure from their flesh. Physical, emotional, deviant sadistic pleasures no mere mortal man could imagine! And the final pleasure, that of their life's blood flowing down your throat! Tell me, my love, that this does not fill you!"
"No," Grayling whispered, but at the same time he'd found the girl's opening and was pushing into her. The poor girl cried weakly. Grayling closed his eyes and moaned at the sound of her, at the feel as his cock pushed in past the head. His eyes opened slowly to reveal the myriad shades of lights that played in them now.
My heart pounded, my body shuddered in a violent isolated spasm of fear!
Silena thrust harder and faster into the girl, ramming her back onto Grayling's cock even further. His head fell back in ecstasy as the girl's ass slid down the length of him, the tightness of her gripping him by the heart! His mouth fell open, his teeth, my god, I'd never seen them that long before! A terrible roar came from him then, shaking the very ground underfoot! Silena laughed madly, her head thrown back, the sound of her voice a shrieking cackle that threatened to pierce my eardrums.
The girl had been shocked into immobility, her body unresisting any longer as she was taken from front and back. Her eyes were glassy and wide, the pupils dilated and fixed. The two girls bound to the sides were, however, screaming for their lives, pulling and yanking so hard on their ropes that their flesh was rubbed raw. The girl on the left had the added torment of Ash's whip which still scourged at her backside. Ash took much pleasure in what he did, apparently satisfied to use the whip for the moment while his wicked companion luxuriated in debased sexuality, and poor Grayling fought the inner battle that raged within him.
Silena's maddening laugh was so loud and shrill now that I had to cover my ears. The girl between she and Grayling had to be near deaf from the closeness, but there was absolutely no indication that the piercing sound affected her. Even as Silena bent down and sunk her teeth into the girl's breast she did not move or grimace in pain. Not until Silena began to pull at her blood, and then the girl transformed from the vegetable she'd become into a ravenous, sexual animal! Her moans were so intense they were screams, her body writhing and twisting, grinding back on Grayling's cock with a frenzy, sending him whirling into his own state of ecstasy as he exploded inside her, sinking his teeth as well into her, at her neck, deep and quick! He pulled hard, fighting Silena for the flow of blood! But Silena was stronger, and she pulled harder and deeper still, her mouth over the girl's breast working and sucking feverishly! And all the while the blood she took in such massive draws worked its intoxicating magic on her, driving the already insane monster to new heights, blasting away all awareness of anything but the blood, leaving her open and vulnerable, as it always did, to all vampires. She never saw the huge knife. It was at her throat slicing clean through, severing her body instantly all in one motion.
As Silena's body fell away I froze in place. The thud and splash of blood brought a vile taste up in the back of my throat. I watched the river of red pour out and pool. And then I looked back up. Silena's head was still at the girl's breast, the mouth still working in reflex, the eyes wide and rolled back in the skull! The girl had fainted. Grayling stood motionless, the long dagger dripping blood, held in his hand loose at his side. A terrible gurgling sound was emitted as Silena's head fell away Finally from the girl's breast. It crashed to the floor, the sound of it hitting the ground muffled in the thick layer of dust. And then all was quiet. Grayling stared down wide eyed at the body as it jerked in its final death throes. Ash, too, stared, his eyes darting from his fallen companion to Grayling. The whip fell from his hand, but still he did not move. The silence was too holy to break just yet by anyone.
Then came the most terrible of all sounds. Ilona, just walking onto the scene with Hunter at her side, let out a cry that cut to my bones! Grayling wheeled around to face her. Her arm was out, holding Hunter back as he fought and lashed his arms at the empty air. His own screams then rose up to meet with Ilona's and transform the cave into a giant cauldron of death wails such as cannot be described in words. I fell to my knees at the sound of it. Grayling backed away from them, the look on his face ... he knew he was going to die.
Ash moved finally, almost quicker than the eye could see. In one motion he had Grayling in his arms, lifting him from the ground, squeezing him so tight he could not breath. Grayling did not fight. His head fell back and Ash struck with lightning speed, his teeth tearing into the tender, exposed flesh quickly. He gave a mighty roar that itself penetrated Grayling's body, making him shudder in pain so deep and cutting that no sound could escape him. Ash drew deeply and completely and in one swallow took nearly every drop of blood from Grayling's body, then released the him to fall to the ground.
My legs pushed me forward, running of their own accord, my arms outstretched, fingers clawing at the air as I screamed my revenge and ran straight for Ash. He wheeled to face me, mouth dripping with the backwash of blood, Grayling's blood, and the sight drove my own madness further still! And I would have surely met with my own grisly death had not a pair of hands reached out to grab me and hurl me to the side.
I landed with a crash against one of the stalagmites, hitting my head, but not hard enough to knock me out. My face smashed down into the dust filling my mouth and nostrils with the dryness and salty taste of it. I winced in the terrible pain it took to bring myself up on my hands and knees and turn over to slump against the pillar. My vision was blurred, I saw two of everyone. Ash, Ilona, Hunter, three groups of them huddled together, backing away from ... from three Falcos! And he, Falco, reaching out three at a time his arms to take Ash by his throat, . screaming so loudly that the shock of it hit me like a board to my head, cracking my skull with the sound! The three images drew together as one and tumbled in a wild frenzy of thrashing arms and legs and gnashing teeth, crumbling the stalagmites that were in the way!
Ilona and Hunter were backing away still, their lips pulled back over their teeth which dripped with rivers of saliva down their chins and over their chests. Their eyes were riveted to the battling monsters lost in the cloud of dust that rose up high overhead and the chips and pieces of centuries made stalagmites that flew in every direction!
And in the blink of an eye they were gone. I caught the dim glimmer of Ilona and Hunter's forms streak up the stairway and through the doorway. I turned back to the scene before me, like a tornado consuming everything in its destructive path, the two vampires fought, and I knew it was to the death to one or the other of them. They went further and further away, carving a path through the forest of pillars as they went until the sight of them were lost to me.
And then it was still. The last pieces of dislodged shards fell to the ground, clinking on others, the last rain of finer particles. The dust still filling the air. But the fight was over. I heard nothing.
Blood trickled in a warm little rivulet down my forehead, bringing me to my senses when I had to brush it away from my eye. And from my eyes the tears. I found myself crawling slowly toward Grayling. He lay very still, his legs tangled, one arm under his back, the other out over his head, his hair a golden spray out around his head catching the torch light like a halo. And on his face the peacefulness that had never been there before. In this sleep of death, peace at last for him.
I reached out with my hand and felt at his neck for a pulse. I leaned over him and pressed my ear to his chest listening for a heartbeat. My hands gathered fistfuls of his shirt and squeezed. There was nothing I could do but say his name one last time.
There were hands on mine then, hands small and delicate, yet strong and they pulled me up, away from my dead friend so that another pair of hands could pull Grayling's body away. I looked up to see Feral, her eyes peering into mine curiously, almost detached. She pulled me further away and back as she sat down and pulled me close to her. I turned my head, and watched as Nik drew Grayling's body gently to him. It was more of a shock than I can say, Nik, alive!
He held Grayling like a child in his lap and looked to Feral.
"Quickly, at your throat," she whispered urgently, and Nik brought his hand up to his throat where he gashed deeply at the side of it with his nails opening a fount of blood. He pulled Grayling up and positioned his head, pressing his open mouth tightly to the wound so that the blood flowed as though from an open tap into him. In a few seconds Grayling's body jerked! His hands clenched, his arms straightened, and then slowly they rose until he could wrap them around Nik and hold onto him. Nik's face contorted in pain, sweat began to bead at his forehead, and soft, painful cries escaped him as Grayling pulled harder and harder at the blood.
I watched with wonder as Grayling came back to life before my eyes. Back from death, death that I had been witness to! And with anxiety to match my wonder, I watched as Nik paled, his cries becoming weaker. His arms, losing the strength it took to hold Grayling to him, shook slightly as they sought to do their job. Nik settled back slowly against the pillar behind him, but it was Grayling more than he that directed this, for Grayling now possessed the strength and more of the vital life's blood within his body. He lay against Nik still, their bodies pressed together as Grayling straddled his savior, taking all he dare before finally pulling away slightly, breathing fast and hard, tilting his head so that his throat was offered, resting his head against Nik's shoulder so that all Nik need do was turn to take back what he needed.
And he did. As weak and in need of the blood that he was, Nik was careful to bite gently and pull slowly from Grayling. I wanted to move to them, feeling that I should do something, but Feral's hand on my arm held me firmly.
"Leave them. They will do what they must so that each will live and be strong. We must be patient."
Patient we were. We watched as Nik drained Grayling slowly, to the point of death once more only to offer again his throat, and his blood. The night went on like this, Nik and Grayling exchanging their lives back and forth time and again. The stillness was broken only by the little sighs and cries they made, never by their feeding, which was done so carefully and with none of the ravenous actions of one feeding on prey. For they were not prey to one another. They were weaving an intricate dance with all the grace and beauty of life itself passing back and forth between them and enveloping everything around them. I knew I was witness to a miracle that day. More than the miracle that Nik and Falco had not perished as had been reported. More than the miracle of how they came to arrive here by day. These things seemed unimportant; they would be explained in time. But the miracle of what was happening in that very moment, it was more than, and went beyond anything that I have the means to understand. I could only sit there with Feral in the quiet and watch.
The hours passed. The exchanges taking less and less time as they passed less blood back and forth. When finally it was drawing to an end they had progressed to feeding both at the same time, their mouths locked simultaneously onto the other in an unbroken current, their arms around and barely hovering above the other's body.
A movement to my right broke my trance and the visual lock that I'd had on them for so long. I turned to see Falco approaching. He was weak, holding onto whatever pillar was near to steady himself. His clothes hung in shreds, his body gashed deeply, any one of the wounds should have proven fatal, I thought, but there he was. Alive. And he looked on with utter disbelief, first at Nik and Grayling as they parted at last, and then at Feral. He came closer, his one blood soaked hand rising to cover his heart, his other grasping at a pillar to hold him up. His head went slowly from side to side, his mouth formed the word "no" silently. Feral rose, pushing me roughly from her and faced Falco. He was so pale, so shaken. Blood ran from his wounds still.
"It is done, Falco. I couldn't have orchestrated it any better myself," she said, and leaving my side went to Nik and Grayling who were still in each others arms, resting quietly. Their eyes were open but they seemed strangely ... asleep. As though in a trance now themselves. Feral knelt down and carefully disentangled their arms and legs, then drew Nik up to a standing position. Though he did stand on his own, he would have fallen over had she not put her arm around his waist. I knew he neither saw her nor heard her words as she spoke.
"You may keep your child, Falco. Take care of him. For his mother, for her sake. I will take this child. If you survive and we meet again I will not deal with you so kindly. I will not be held so tight by this mother's will to protect her child, to spare her child's father, for I will have grown stronger than the mother by then. Take this as your one and final warning not to interfere with me ever! I possess more in this child I hold than you ever will. And I will not allow anyone to stop that which has taken me a millennia to arrive at!"
And with that Feral left, taking Nik with her, a flash of muted color that flew through the cave leaving nothing but a terrible silence in her wake.
Epilogue
Dane's diary July 16th, 1996
I write still from my sick bed, this flu having gotten the better of me. I have spent the last two days compiling both Jenna's and my diaries, though I had not started out to do this much. It was only after I started that I realized I should, and in the process of re-reading and sorting out the things that did not directly relate to the information that needs to get written and made public, I know that I have not quite finished.
I sit here and wait for Grayling to wake, I will write the last few words before putting this down and behind me. For now. And hopefully not for too long. Once Grayling is up I may sleep and gather what energy I can before we depart tomorrow at sunset....
It fell to me to handle a dying vampire, and one that had been reborn and left helpless. Falco needed to feed or he would die. The two girls who still remained chained to the posts on either side of the violated one would have to do. I can never forgive myself for taking them, each in their turn, to their death; that I chose to save Falco rather than these two innocents. I chose not to think about it then, and I will not think about it now, as I haven't allowed myself to think about it at all since. To do so would insure my final insanity. And I cannot allow that most of all.
I did not watch as Falco dispatched the two girls, then rose to put the third one who still hung suspended out of her lingering misery. Mathias appeared at some point and took the bodies away, but I don't recall exactly when this was. I only remember that at one point during the night I realized that they were gone.
Much improved, Falco and I helped Grayling out of the cave and back to the main house. We found no trace of Hunter or Ilona anywhere. We could only assume that they took cover somewhere in the house for the duration of the day, then fled as soon as night fell. That they'd had to pass through the sun on the porch to get to the house meant that they'd been injured, and until they recovered we were relatively assured of their absence for some time to come. The remains of Silena and Ash would be disposed of the following day by Mathias. He would merely carry them out into the sun and there they would incinerate to dust.
We took Grayling to the upper floor where sleeping chambers were housed and put him safely to rest. Falco saying that he would sleep for several nights and days as he carefully lowered the coffin lid. We left, locking the huge steel reinforced doorway after us. Falco held the only key and took it with him when he left to clean himself up.
Later in the kitchen I sat with my untouched plate of food before me, and three empty scotch glasses. Falco dismissed the Moroi who'd been keeping me "company", and sat down at the table across from me. Clean now and dressed in his exquisite clothes once again, he looked better. I hesitated only for a moment before I asked the question that would confirm the conclusion that I'd arrived at.
"That was not Feral ... was it?"
Falco took a deep breath and shook his head no. Slowly, he explained that Mathias had found Greta. Or what remained of her. Before she died she explained how she had waited for her mistress to return. She had grown worried and had walked nearer the house. It was then she was approached by a large man. A large ungainly man. He had a simple, childlike look on his face at first, but then an evil shown through. She realized that it was the Intruder in Marco's body but by then it was too late. The transmutation took place, and when close to daybreak the next morning Feral approached her, another transmutation in which the Intruder left Greta's body and took over Feral's. Feral then attacked Greta and left her for dead. Mathias had found her only when he took the bodies of the three girls off into the woods for disposal. He ended up disposing of Greta's as well, all in shallow graves just off the beaten path.
"And she has Nik," I said, the depression that I'd been struggling to hold back suddenly falling over me like a dark cloud.
"Yes," Falco said, "and he has no way of knowing who she really is. In his present state he is entirely susceptible to her suggestions and...."
"But what did she mean when she said she possessed more in the child she held? More in Nik?"
"The Rosch Lance. Through their exchange, the means by which Nik gave life back to Grayling ... he became Rosch Lance. He is as much of the sacred blood as Grayling is. But he is also possessed of the strength of the Ancients. He is "of the blood and of the blood", a more powerful child there has never been among us. And he is hers, within her power now. She need only keep him alive until he is, as well, of the proper age, and she will have what Silena had sought for. Only instead of taking the power into her, as Silena would have, she will kill him outright."
I was filled suddenly with much energy as adrenaline shot through me unchecked. "Then we must find him!"
Falco looked at me solemnly for a long moment. "Yes. But it is more than you think. It is not just Nik's life, but my entire race and yours which are in peril. The Intruder's mission, which she set out on so long ago, has been made all too easy for her now. She no longer needs to seek out the heads of Families and destroy them one by one. She holds the key to all of our fates now in the one. The child who must father the next, least our mental link to one another is severed ... and all go mad."
So that was it. The secret. There must be the one through which all others are bound. The one who held them together, through all the battles waged between families and all the infighting among them, the Child of the Rosch Lance was the link, the thread that ran through the fabric of their universal consciousness that held them together. That kept them from destroying themselves!
"But what of Grayling? Is he not still possessed of the same quality?"
"He is, yes, but to such a small degree now that we cannot hold out the hope that he, alone, will be strong enough for that which lies ahead in his life should he be the sole survivor. And then, too, there is the mating to consider. As Feral is Grayling's natural mother ... it cannot be done."
"But...," I began, but stopped, too frightened to continue. Falco finished for me.
"But with Nik it can, yes. Nik can father a child with Feral. The Intruder has seen to it that this will never come to pass. As long as it inhabits Feral's body, and it will until Nik is killed, no mating can occur."
We sat in silence for a few moments. My mind raced to put together all the facts. Falco began to voice them even as I thought of them.
"We must find a way to release the Intruder from Feral. She and Nik must mate and a new child born. It is the only way to insure our survival, and in turn assure humankind's, for without us there is nothing that stands in the way of the Intruder and millions upon millions like it coming to take over your world ... and ours once and for all. We are all the protection you have ever had. It has always been the way."
I sat for a long time thinking over what he had told me.
"Then I will do whatever I can to help you," I said at last. "But tell me, if none of this were to happen, who would Grayling have mated with? If not his mother, who else is there to be the mother? Surely ... " I stopped, allowing Falco the opportunity to consider that with all he had told me already, clearing up this last little bit of the puzzle would make no difference.
"I do not know. Only one mother knows the identity of the next to which her son will mate. Feral guarded this secret well. Now that the Intruder inhabits her, controlling her, there is no way to get the information. Indeed, I find it highly unlikely that she will allow the new mother to live. To do so would allow for the slim possibility that she and Grayling will meet."
"And this new mother? Does she know who she is? I mean...."
"Does a mother realize she is a mother?" Falco assisted graciously. I nodded. "Yes. She does."
March 28th, 1997
And so it was that after Grayling had recovered sufficiently we set out on our quest. Our one advantage is that in Grayling we have a link to Nik. That they share the same blood allows him to "feel" where Nik is. But, it also works for Nik and it appears that the Intruder has a means of knowing as well, as they continue to stay one step ahead of us.
We had not seen or heard from Jenna in months. Not until a week ago when her last diary entry was brought to me. But during these months we knew she was alive, and that she was with the vampire Pavel. Grayling caught mental glimpses of her now and then. That this is possible for a vampire only with one he has fed on ... or with another of his kind ... there was only the one possibility. As Grayling had never tasted her blood, it was clear what fate Jenna had met with. That she is now Vampyre....
It doesn't matter. None of it matters. We will find them. Nik and Jenna both. And we will find some way to rid our world of the Intruder, and allow the Vampyre to continue, allow mankind to continue ... through Nik. Through Grayling as well. Through the Children of the Rosch Lance.
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"The future of the world has always been dependent upon its children."
-Anonymous vampire
