Seth Eden

by Arrival of the Vampyren

  She grabbed the other chain, gave it a good hard yank, and was rewarded with the

  metal door rolling up a couple feet. Good. It took muscle, but not more than she had.

  She gave it three more yanks, staring up at the roller where the door was

  wrapping.

  When she looked back down again, it was into the face of the Vampyren standing

  watching her.

  Holding an enormous gun.

  Which was trained unerringly on her.

  She fought. In the weeks since the invasion, she and every other sane inhabitant of

  the planet learned to fight. She was armed, she was angry, and she had teeth and nails

  and a knife and a gun.

  But she was five foot five inches and he was about eight feet tall. She had all new

  and untried muscle.

  And he was made up of nothing but muscle.

  "I don't want to hurt you."

  She'd forgotten how their voices could resonate. Everyone said the Vampyren put

  off some kind of chemical signature, the same way bugs did, or animals when it was time

  to mate. Everyone said that was why politicians caved and went back to their jobs

  working for the invaders, and that's why women went with them for sex and men went

  with them apparently to their dooms.

  It didn't work on everyone and it only worked in close contact.

  But it worked.

  She fought anyway. His voice didn't matter. It was – god, it was sexy and full of

  honey and lust and promises no one had fulfilled for her in months even before the

  invasion.

  But –

  But they very likely killed your brother, or they will.

  So she fought.

  "I don't want to hurt you," he said the second time when he got tired of her

  shooting him at point blank range. She still wasn't very good and the gun was a .38

  revolver. It left burn marks on his torso and did nothing else.

  "But I will."

  That was when he backhanded her and knocked her to her knees. Her head was

  still ringing when she tried to shake it off but he was already tying her hands in front of

  her using a cord from one of the boxes of food she was taking with her.

  Had been taking with her.

  What about my Dad? He'll be all alone.

  What about Davy?

  The vampire taking her was huge, his shoulders broad and his arms showing out

  of the short sleeved uniform were striated and built like a bodybuilder's.

  He came by all that muscle naturally and he could use it, too. Her split lip and

  throbbing head proved that.

  He left the truck idling behind them, just waiting for someone to come and profit

  from all her hard work.

  It took her halfway to their destination to stop being angry and start being afraid.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  The girl fought like a Vampyren. Once that had been a major compliment among

  his kind but this whole planet was made up of surprisingly angry and courageous

  peoples. In the long run it wouldn't do them any good, but Dray admired their tenacity.

  They fought for their lives and they fought for each other's lives.

  The thought gave him pause and he looked at her in the back of his Jeep. They'd

  adopted the fuel burning vehicles humans used. They were mostly too small but were

  more efficient than trying to adapt their own maglev sleds to Earth's gravity.

  She sat hunched in the backseat, tears on her face.

  Humans fought for each other and before he'd taken her from the building where

  he'd found her she had loaded an entire truck with food.

  "The people you were taking that to." He said it as a question but didn't finish the

  question, waiting for her to look at him.

  Sullen, gray blue eyes met his in the rearview. When he didn't go on she finally

  said, "Yeah?"

  There would be time to teach her respect.

  "Will they die without it?"

  "What do you care?" But he heard the pain in her voice.

  "I don't. You do. But they can be cared for."

  She laughed, bitterly. "By being taken to a tank farm?"

  "It's better than being drained."

  He saw her bite her lip. "I'm not telling you anything."

  "Fine." He slammed the vehicle forward, watching as she hit her head on the seat

  when he slammed on the brakes.

  She'd learn. They either learned or they died or they went into a harem or they

  were sent to breeding, or to a tank farm, or sometimes, to positions within the guard,

  working with the Vampyren.

  There was a reason for the breeding. After centuries of fighting from planet to

  planet with the denizens of that world and with the Lucians when they followed, there

  weren't as many Vampyren as the populations they overtook believed.

  He knew his place and his purpose. He knew that having successfully bred a full

  Vampyren set of male twins, he could have any female he wanted.

  He knew he could teach her to respect him.

  But looking back at her, the auburn curls, the blue eyes, the puffy lip he'd given

  her and the way she glared at him in the mirror, he hated the idea of breaking her.

  Vampyren when they chose a mate, chose equals. He was in a new world, where

  they could maybe forge new rules.

  Maybe there was room for more than just breaking and owning.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Las Vegas provided as many rooms for soldiers and administrators and all

  versions of Vampyren as they could want. Skyscraper hotel casinos offered them views

  and comfort and utilities that worked but the desert and heat-loving aliens didn't use the

  air conditioning.

  Stephanie felt like she was going to bake when he dragged her from the initial

  intake meeting where some official wearing the vampire equivalent of military rank

  approved Dray Fierro's war prize: her.

  Humans used to do that too, if she could believe what she'd read in Homer's Iliad.

  That didn't make it any better.

  Then he took her up in a working elevator to the eighteenth floor or something

  where the heat was so intense it made her feel woozy.

  "What is happening to you?" he asked as he pulled her from the elevator. He

  picked her up, not unkindly but somehow like he might carry a load of laundry.

  "It's too hot." Her breath was coming in little pants.

  He seemed nonplussed by that, but carried her into the suite that was clearly his

  and took her directly to the bathroom, running a tepid bath as if he understood she'd go

  into shock if he dumped her straight into cold water.

  "That will help." He stood back and crossed his arms.

  Stephanie looked longingly at the cool water, then angrily back at him. "You think I'm getting in there with you watching?"

  He actually smirked at that. So they could mimic human expressions. Dandy.

  "What is it you think is going to happen between us? Do you think I brought you

  here just to be kind?"

  The question made her instantly furious. "Kind? What would you bastards know

  about kindness? You've come down here and slaughtered us, then you take everything

  that's ours and break up families and I was looking for my brother and my father needs

  the food – " Never mind her father was probably out scavenging even now, there was

  nothing wrong with him, just he was her family and that wasn't the point – "And – " And

  never mind she hadn't meant to tell him anything.

  "You
can take your clothes off and get in the bath now."

  "Fuck you!"

  "Eventually. The other possibility is I can tear them off you and punish you for

  your behavior."

  The anger crackled through her.

  Along with something else. Something she didn't want to admit to herself.

  Something that made her wet between the legs at the thought of him touching her. At

  the thought of him undressing her, touching her, tasting her, maybe punishing her, it

  sounded intriguing –

  And her mind the whole time was screaming like there was a watcher in the back

  of it, an overmind with the intelligence to know there would be nothing erotic about a

  punishment from such creatures, that she might not even survive it, that she was in a

  completely untenable situation and that he was –

  --using pheromones on her or hypnosis or whatever it was the aliens did that

  turned people to putty in their hands. Across the world where there was Internet access

  there were tales of human idiots who were sexualizing the Vampyren, they were so

  beautiful, so sexy, so amazing, so cool.

  Stephanie found those people to be idiots who shouldn't even be mourned when

  they were shoved out of the gene pool and fucked and eaten for lunch.

  If this was pheromones she was damn well going to fight them.

  In the next second, whatever he was doing, he stopped. The compulsion dropped

  away from her like something physical that had been shoving her.

  Her mind was her own again, as were the hormones racing through her body and

  the blood moving too quickly, the pulse racing. The want growing.

  She stared at him, aghast.

  He looked as startled as she did.

  Very slowly he backed away until he stood framed in the doorway to the luxurious

  bathroom suite.

  "What did you say about your male relative?"

  His voice was calm and paced but she was still angry. She sounded sullen as any

  teenager when she answered. "Which one?"

  He stumbled a little over the word, but indicated he meant her brother.

  "He's missing," she said and when he didn't interrupt her, she told him about Davy

  – David – going to join up with a leftover band of military to try and fight the threat the

  Vampyren brought. She didn't shout or cry or beg or blame. She just told him and he just

  listened and nodded.

  Stephanie might have demanded some kind of response after she'd told him

  everything but in that next instant the heat was too much, too cloying, and she couldn't

  stand it, she stripped off her pants and stepped into the water. Just the chill of it on her

  lower legs was enough to help. Her body heat started to drop.

  The other heat didn't. His eyes were on her now, taking in every curve, every new

  muscle. But instead of entering the room, instead of taking her or forcing her, he said,

  "Some of your young like that, those who are trained, are taken in to work with us. If you

  stay with me, I'll let you try to find him."

  She bit her lip. What she wanted to demand was What's in it for me? But he'd

  already told her. What she honestly wanted to know was, what was in it for him to even

  make such an offer?

  When she asked, he turned away, as if hiding a weakness. "You know where we

  are and you've seen too much of how we are. If I didn't keep you, they'd kill you or throw

  you into the worst of the harems."

  She swallowed hard, determined not to show fear. "If I stay, how will I find my

  brother?"

  "We have networks. We have communications." He gave her a haughty look. "We

  are, of course, more advanced than you. Thinking down to your level is taxing."

  Did the Vampyren have humor? But he seemed serious so she waited until he gave

  her his deal: Stay with him, search through proper channels for her brother, and act as a

  liaison between humans and Vampyren.

  He called it liaison.

  Her family would call it being a traitor.

  She called it making the best of a bad situation.

  And if the truth were to be told – not that she ever would – she wanted to learn

  more about the Vampyren.

  Or one in particular.

  CHAPTER SIX

  It was the only solution that didn't involve killing her. It wouldn't be popular with

  his commanders or with any of the non-military Vampyren.

  So he'd have to be careful and explore whatever the new world had engendered

  inside him.

  For now, if she had to be dispatched, be believed he was distant enough to do the

  job himself.

  But if he had to dispatch her, it would have to be soon. He thought she was already

  becoming more important to him than could be allowed.

  More important to him than could be allowed … if anybody ever found out.

  He'd be careful. They wouldn't find out.

  For now, the desert heat that felt like home to him still seemed to be damaging her.

  She was shivering in the bath where she stood, the water not even up to her knees.

  Shivering from heat, not cold, and too stubborn or too sick to move any farther.

  So he'd do it for her, and worry later about why he was invested in her wellbeing

  at all.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  When he came close to her, the desire to touch him was almost overwhelming. But

  the heat felt like it was strangling her and despite the dry heat of the desert, her body was

  putting out enough sweat that everything felt wet and cloying. It was hard to breathe and

  when he came close to her, her breathing became that much more labored.

  He said he wasn't going to hurt her. Stephanie absolutely didn't believe him. But

  actions speak louder than words, even between races alien to each other.

  When he got close to her where she stood in the tub, he didn't strike or grab.

  Instead, he used the sharp nails on one hand to shred the boxy t-shirt she wore, moving

  fast and sure. It opened up and peeled back on her body, exposing her newly toned belly.

  He shredded the sleeves and let the shirt drop into the water, then pulled it, drenched

  and dripping, from the cool water, wringing it out over her time after time.

  She shuddered, but the heat of her body was heating the water around her legs at

  the same time she was gradually, slowly cooling.

  In one respect. And heating like crazy in another.

  As he squeezed out the water from her shirt and dribbled it over her skin, she

  imagined his long fingered hands touching her more intimately than the brushes of

  accidental touch as he got her wet. She imagined those fingers sliding between her legs

  and finding the wetness there and she shivered again, this time not because of the

  overheating. Her nipples hardened and pressed against the fabric of her jog bra. She

  started to wrap her arms around her upper body, half ashamed, half afraid.

  He had other ideas. With one more slash he shredded the clinging fabric and freed

  her breasts. They stood taut, nipples hard, her skin starting to goose pebble from the cool

  water.

  "I think that's enough," he said, and lifted her from the tub, wrapping her in his

  arms, her wet flesh soaking into the uniform shirt he wore.

  He carried her effortlessly out of the bathroom and into the bedroom where now

  the summer heat felt welcome.

  She'd heard things about the Vampyren, not that anyone could kno
w for certain

  what they were like when they joined with a human. She could expect almost anything.

  Except maybe what happened.

  He moved slow, taking his time. His fingers roamed over her mouth, touching

  her lips, stroking feathery touches along her jaw and into her hair. He outlined her ear

  with one finger, he licked along the pulse lines in her neck and she braced herself for the

  bite that would tear the flesh and spill out her life.

  It didn't come. Instead he nipped, almost pain, almost pleasure, kissing, licking,

  biting, until there was a short, sharp pinprick of pain and he sighed in her ear. "Sweet.

  You taste sweet."

  Her head fell back then. Her whole body tumbled back from where she had sat

  rigid in his arms, waiting for death or enslavement or whatever he dealt her.