“Perhaps we could perform an experiment that would satisfy your concerns in that regard,” vDeirdre replied. “Louis, please bring one pint of fresh blood and two glasses. Two straws, as well, please.”
Oh. She was going to time their blood-drinking. Again, I say, gross.
That’s exactly what she did, of course. I won’t go into the details—trust me, they were disgusting.
If you’ve never seen someone suck up a wineglass full of blood through a straw, count yourself lucky. Believe me, you don’t want to. Deirdre was fairly matter of fact about the whole thing, but Greg enjoyed it far too much for my comfort.
I knew that the test wasn’t perfect—it didn’t take into account the motion of the blood as the heart pumped, and I suspected that the blood in the glasses was slightly cool and likely to have coagulated a bit, so blood-in-a-glass drinking time was probably a bit longer than blood-from-a-body drinking time. But Deirdre countered these issues by offering to cut the time down by a third. It had taken them each roughly fifteen minutes to completely drain a wineglass—about as much time as it would take me to drink a milkshake. So each of them would get ten minutes of my blood. But that meant that in thirty minutes, maybe less, we could be out of this nightmare and on our way home—ignoring for the moment the fact that my home was no longer safe now that Greg knew where I lived.
“Satisfied?” Deirdre finally asked.
“More like nauseated.”
“But you agree to our final requirements?”
I didn’t know what advantage these vampires might gain from drinking my blood, but I knew there had to be something. I hated this. Hated it, hated it, hated it. But, same as since this night had begun, I had no choice. I had over-estimated my ability to deal with vampires, and I was about to pay for it.
“I agree,” I said.
“Then let’s begin.”
At that moment, the cell phone in my boot began to vibrate against my ankle bone. I spoke loudly to cover the slight buzz it made against the leather of the boot.
“First let me go take my weapons off, though.” I looked around. “I’ll need some sort of bathroom or dressing room or something.”
“Very well. Louis?”
I scurried out of the room behind Louis, thankful that apparently, no one had heard the phone go off. I made overly loud small talk with Louis as we walked down the hall, throwing every question I could think of at him.
“So. Where are you from? When did you become a vampire? Do you like it? How are the benefits? You get dental with that?” He didn’t bother to answer.
The phone had stopped buzzing against my ankle by the time we made it to the ladies’ room at the end of the hall, but it started back up almost as soon as I shut the door behind me.
I scrabbled around in my boot, almost dropping the phone in my haste to answer.
“Elle!” It was Nick. He sounded frantic. “God! I was so worried. Where are you?”
I locked myself in a stall. “Long Island. In the middle of some vampire party. Things are not good here, Nick. Come get me!” I hissed into the phone.
“A vampire party? Jesus Christ, Elle, you could get yourself killed.”
“You think? Quit talking and find me, dammit!”
“How am I supposed to do that?”
“Don’t you have some magic GPS equipment or something?”
“No. We don’t.”
“Then try the address list. Under ‘Deirdre.’”
Louis knocked on the door and opened it. “Almost ready, miss?” he asked. It was the first time I’d heard him speak. His gravelly voice rumbled in his chest.
“Just a minute!” I sang out cheerily. Louis shut the door again.
“Okay. Nick. Just listen. I’m not going to hang up, but I am going to turn the volume on my end all the way down. With any luck, you’ll be able to hear what’s going on. And hurry, okay?”
“I will, Elle.”
I adjusted the volume and shoved the phone back into my boot, praying that Nick would be able to hear through the leather.
Then I pulled a stake from each boot and ripped off the chopsticks that I had taped to my arms and my stomach. That left me with a stake in each boot and a phone in one.
Yeah, that was one more stake than I had agreed to keep. But I figured I didn’t have to play fair.
They were vampires.
I was slightly breathless when I ripped open the door and stepped back out into the hall. I handed the weapons over to Louis.
“Okay. I’m ready. Let’s go.”
Greg was still sitting in his chair when we re-entered the room at the end of the hall. Deirdre, however, stood up and turned to face me. With a long, slow, languorous smile, she said, “I need you to remove your clothing and lie on the bed.”
Chapter 16
“Whoa. Wait a minute,” I said, backing up and holding out my hands as if to ward her off physically.
“No one said anything about having me remove my clothing. Or about lying down on the bed. You can take the blood, you can even take it by mouth, but I am not going to be naked at the time. You have to get it from someplace that doesn’t require me to be naked. Or lying down.” No. No, no, no. This was even worse than thinking she might want to kiss me.
“Oh, very well. But you will probably want to be sitting down for this.” She gave me a long, slow look from under her lashes. Her eyes had gone completely black, as if the pupil had swallowed up all of the iris and spread out to take over even the whites of her eyes.
That’s one sure way to tell if it’s a vampire, I thought. Of course, by the time you see the blacks of their eyes, it’s probably too late to do anything about it.
“Fine,” I said. I flopped down into the wingback chair I’d been sitting in to negotiate with her.
“Will this do?”
“That will do beautifully. Gregory, do come closer and watch.”
Greg stepped around to the back of the chair and crossed his arms across the top, leaning his chin on them. I was glad I wasn’t tall enough to quite reach the top of the chair. I would let him take blood in order to save Malcolm, but I didn’t want him to touch me any more than was absolutely necessary.
Deirdre kneeled on the ground in front of me, her back straight, her flat stomach just brushing the front of my knees. The train of her dress trailed out behind her. I couldn’t have gotten my dress to move like that no matter how hard I tried. One of the benefits of wearing dresses for hundreds of years, I guessed.
“I need to get closer.” She spoke in a whisper and gently moved my knees apart. With a smooth motion, she eased her way between them so that she was right up against the seat of the chair.
“Now, give me your arm.”
I moved my left arm toward her, and she turned it over so that the inner parts of the wrist and elbow were exposed.
“The trick, Gregory, to a clean, smooth feeding, is to first make sure you find the vein.” She spoke quietly, and as she spoke, she softly ran her hand across my wrist, brushing the skin lightly with her fingertips as she traced the blue veins up past the inner elbow, over the shoulder, and up my neck to a spot directly behind my ear. Her touch was cool and gentle. I felt my head tilting to the side almost of its own accord.
She used her hand to cup the back of my head so that I turned and looked at her.
“Always remember, Gregory, that the giving of blood is a gift, the taking of it a sacrament. This you already know: there is much joy to be found in pain. Now you must learn to share that joy with those from whom you feed.”
I gazed into her totally black eyes, and there seemed to be a soft swirling to them, as if they were deep pools of water I could fall into. I heard her voice as if from a distance, and it was kind and warm and soothing.
She leaned over my wrist and gently licked at it, following with her tongue the path she had traced with her fingers. Unlike her hands, her mouth felt hot when it passed over my skin. I shivered as her tongue passed across my inner elbow and slid up my
arm. She paused at my neck and gently sucked at the skin.
Somewhere in the back of my mind, I could hear my own voice screaming “no” over and over, telling me to get up, to run, to save myself. But that voice somehow seemed disconnected from me; and even if it hadn’t, I don’t think I could have obeyed it if I tried. My limbs felt heavy and languorous, like weights keeping me in the chair. I sank even deeper back into the soft cushions. My entire body felt soft and warm.
“That’s good,” Deirdre whispered to me and moved her mouth back down my arm to the inner elbow. She rested her cheek against it for a moment.
“Listen, Greg,” she said quietly. “Can you hear her heart beating?”
“Yes,” Greg answered, his voice hoarse and uneven.
She raised her head up from my arm and drew her lips back from her teeth to expose her fangs.
At the sight of them, I felt a surge of fear rush through me—but still, I couldn’t move.
My heartbeat speeded up and Deirdre whispered, “Oh. Yes.” As if she had been waiting for that moment, she sank her fangs into my arm. I felt them pierce the skin, then felt the upper and lower fangs meet, just for a moment, under the skin, piercing the vein from two sides.
Deirdre drew her teeth out from my arm and fastened her mouth over the four puncture wounds, sucking at them to draw the blood out faster.
There is no adequate way to describe having a vampire feed on you when you are under its spell.
I felt the pain as her sharp fangs entered my skin, but the feeling was as much pleasure as pain. My body reacted as it might react to a lover. My nipples hardened and a dull ache began throbbing deep inside me in time to my heartbeat as it pumped the blood through my veins and into Deirdre’s mouth.
I watched her throat moving as she swallowed, and I moaned aloud; I would have thrashed in my chair if I could have moved.
The bite was yearning and fulfillment, desire and orgasm, all in one. My vision swam into darkness, and I closed my eyes, leaned my head back against the chair. Pleasure washed over me in dark waves, leaving me breathless and limp with no energy for thought. Even the screaming inside my head was silenced, or at least drowned out.
I lost track of time almost instantly, so I don’t know how long the feeding lasted—left to my own devices, I probably would have let her drain me dry. Luckily for me, she was a vampire of her word.
The first I knew of reality again was when she slowed the motion of her lips against my skin, then finally pulled away entirely.
She looked up at me and whispered, “Thank you.” Traces of my blood lingered on her lips.
The voice that had been clamoring away in the back of my mind demanding to be heard finally broke through the haze that had enveloped me. I blinked twice and shuddered, horrified at what had just happened. I still wasn’t thinking clearly, just repeating “no, no, no,” over and over in my mind.
And to think I had been disturbed by the possibility that she might want to kiss me. This was infinitely worse. I felt dirty, cheapened by the experience.
And it wasn’t over yet.
If Deirdre’s blood-taking had been a seduction, then Greg’s was the closest thing to rape I hope I ever experience.
At first, Greg tried the same tactics Deirdre had used; he knelt in front of me and ran his fingers up and down my arm and licked at the crook of my neck.
He had never been a clumsy lover. We’d actually been pretty good together. I would have thought that someone who had known my body so well when he was a human would have some sense of how to arouse me when, as a vampire, he took blood from me.
No such luck.
A sense of déjà vu overcame me as his hands touched me, but the only emotion I felt was revulsion. His hands were far too different from what they had been. They were cold instead of hot, awkward instead of gentle. I leaned away from him and turned my head so that I didn’t have to look at him.
He grabbed my chin in his hand and yanked it roughly back toward him. “Look at me,” he ordered. “Look at my eyes.”
I again felt my arms and legs weighing me down, holding me in the chair. But instead of feeling warm and relaxed, I felt panicky. I couldn’t breathe. It was like being pinned down by someone much larger than me.
Greg looked up at Deirdre, who had taken his place behind the chair, but she offered no advice.
With a growl of frustration, he stood up and ripped the top of my sleeve away from my shoulder, exposing the bandage underneath it, the one covering the healing wound I’d gotten during the fight at the armory.
I felt a surge of fear again, and again my heartbeat sped up. I tried to move, but my body wouldn’t obey me.
His nostrils flared. With one hand he pushed my head to the side while he ripped the bandage away with the other hand. Placing one knee between my legs on the chair cushion, he leaned his entire body against mine and slammed his mouth down against my shoulder.
There was no pleasure this time as the fangs entered my body—just excruciating pain. A scream ripped itself from my throat and I tried to struggle. His throat moved convulsively as he swallowed the blood he’d drawn to the surface. With every sucking motion of his mouth, white-hot pain shot up my arm and across my vision. My breathing grew ragged. My pain seemed to increase his own pleasure and he sucked harder.
After an eternity of misery, Deirdre put her hand on Greg’s shoulder. “It is enough, my darling,” she said to him. His mouth slowed its movement and he collapsed on top of me. His bloody mouth left smears on the upholstery behind me.
Deirdre gently drew him to his feet and whispered to him, “You mustn’t fret, my dearest boy.
You have time in which to learn.”
Freed from both the weight of his body and the weight of his mind, I felt my gorge rising.
No, I thought. I am not going to give him the satisfaction of seeing me throw up. Instead, I put my head between my knees and waited for the world to stop spinning.
Eventually, my vision cleared, and I looked up to see the two of them leaning forehead to forehead, holding hands and whispering to one another.
“Can I leave now?” I asked.
“Of course,” said Deirdre smoothly, raising her head from Greg’s and giving his hands one last squeeze before turning to face me. That buzzing energy that I had sensed earlier now suffused her entire being. It was as if drinking my blood had strengthened her—and not just her body, but her entire... essence, maybe? She virtually glowed with it.
And I could see the energy rolling off of Greg, too. His skin was brighter. I stared at him with loathing.
“I consider our pact complete,” Deirdre said.
“Here are his clothes,” Greg said, gesturing at Malcolm, who was still stretched out on the bed, unconscious. I didn’t know how he could have slept through the last half-hour or so, but I was grateful that he hadn’t witnessed the scene of my degradation.
Of course, I could only imagine what Malcolm himself had gone through.
“Or at least what’s left of his clothes.” Greg smiled evilly and handed me a pair of dirty, ripped, blood-stained jeans. “Now get out.”
I wanted to take a swing at Greg, but a dizzy spell hit me, and I had to sit down on the bed. I put my head in my hands and waited for my vision to clear. I had lost too much blood to pick a fight now.
“Okay,” I finally said blearily to Deirdre. “Take us home now.”
“Oh, no, darling,” Deirdre said, her voice syrupy sweet. She spoke to me over her shoulder as she walked toward the hall. “You didn’t negotiate for that. We’ll allow you to leave, and we won’t bother you again unless you come for us, but I’m certainly not arranging for your travel home.” She stopped at the door and turned around. “I suggest you find a way to call a cab.” And with that last parting shot, she was gone. Malcolm and I were alone in the room.
Or rather, I was alone in the room with Malcolm. He was passed out cold. I pushed myself up out of the chair and stood over him.
Oh, bloody he
ll. How was I going to get us home?
I picked up the still-full glass of cold water Louis had brought to me—minutes? hours?—some time ago. I downed part of it, then dipped the damp washcloth in it and began wiping Malcolm’s face.
He just whimpered and turned his face away from me. I sat down on the bed next to him.
“No, you don’t, Malcolm. Wake up. You’ve got to get up.” I plunged my fingers into the water and splashed a handful onto his face. He opened his eyes.
“Elle?” he said.
“Yep. It’s me. Come on. Get up. We’re leaving.”
He rolled over and pushed himself up on one elbow and looked around. Not for long, though.
His arms were weakened. I had no idea how long he’d been dangling from those chains, but it had left him with little strength.
He groaned and closed his eyes again.
“Get up,” I said loudly. “Get. Up. Dammit, Malcolm, get up!” I nearly screamed that last at him, and he opened his eyes again.
“I’m up, I’m up.” This time he managed to pull himself to an upright position by swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. He leaned his elbows on his knees and put his hands over his eyes.
I pushed myself off the bed and stood in front of him on trembling legs.
“Put these on,” I said, shoving the jeans at him.
He dragged them over his legs, then held his weight on his legs long enough to lift his butt and pull the pants up all the way. He quickly collapsed again without buttoning them.
“I can’t do this,” he said.
“Yes you can,” I said, my voice grim and determined. “You can do it because you have to. Got it?”
Malcolm nodded. “Okay.”
“Okay,” I said. “Let’s go.”
I leaned into him and let him rest part of his weight on me as he stood up. The extra weight made my thigh muscles tremble. His legs were none too steady, either.
We reeled through the hall like a couple of drunks on Bourbon Street at Mardi Gras—and believe me, I’ve seen enough of them to know. Malcolm’s bare feet scraped against the carpet as if he were too exhausted to even pick them up all the way off the ground at each step. It took us an inordinately long time to make it up the stairs. Malcolm had to stop several times to lean against the wall and rest. I wasn’t totally averse to resting, either, but I wanted to get us out of this house of horrors, and fast.
Legally Undead (Vampirarchy Book 1) Page 15
