by Pace, Pepper
When I entered the family room I heard the sound system playing some thrashing rock music so I figured that either Tyler or Jason were present.
Tyler is my Angel of death. She carries out my death sentences. She and her boyfriend Jason used the guesthouse as their residence. It was huge and comfy, and near to me. Sometimes she babysat for my daughter, so it made it very convenient having them so near. Also having them so close is convenient because Paul is their pack leader. It’s only been a year since she and Jason were kidnapped and infected with the Lycanthrope blood. Now Paul, Jason and Tyler are the only three Werewolves known by our Vampire Council. They call themselves The Wolf Pack and are proud of their little gang—of which I’m not a member. A: I’m unable to get the official Wolf Pack Tat. B: I’m not a Werewolf.
Tyler whistled shrilly when I entered the family room. Of course I had to stop and strike a pose before both of us laughed at our silliness.
My brow rose in surprise at her wardrobe. “Um…what are you wearing?” She usually dressed in black leather, a halter-top or t-shirts that showed off her tats. Her make-up was normally very black and pancake with blood red lipstick. She kept her short black hair spiked which normally caused her to look very hard—a necessity for someone who survived by being scary; although I remembered a time when I’d first met her and she had been a timid little waif.
Tyler did a ballet pirouette that was just a little too perfect which meant that once upon a time my deadly little Angel of Death had probably taken lessons. It intrigued me and again I found myself wondering who my friends had been before coming into contact with the Vampires.
Her frightening outfit consisted of a floral cotton dress, cashmere sweater, white stockings and baby doll shoes. Her black hair was stripped of all hairspray and gel and fell in soft waves behind her ears. Instead of the stark makeup she normally wore she now donned soft little girl neutral make-up that almost seemed like she wasn’t wearing anything.
The frown remained on my face as I studied her. “I’m afraid…very afraid,” I whispered dramatically.
Tyler chuckled. “Oh stop it. I can clean up well. Jason and I just got back from his parents.”
She sat down on the suede sectional. I knew she would curl her legs up under her and she did.
My mouth fell open. “Does that mean…?” I turned down the stereo a bit and sat down beside her expectantly.
Tyler’s thin shoulders shrugged. “It just means that after eighteen months of dating they get to put a picture to the face.”
She didn’t sound too happy. “Do they know…?”
She shook her head. “They don’t know anything, not even about his sister being a donor for the last ten years. At some point they’re going to start wondering why their 50-year old daughter and son still look like they’re in their teens.
“Sweetie you know Jason is crazy about you. If he hasn’t brought you around the parents before now it’s only because he’s trying to preserve his secret. He’s entrusting you with that secret now.”
She laughed and it sounded hollow to my ears. “And fourth of July? I’ll be wearing long sleeves at the family picnic to hide tats and eating the hamburger before it hits the grill.”
I looked at her steadily. “At least you have a family picnic to go to.”
Her eyes flashed at me apologetically. “You got a new family now, sweetie. Okay, I know we can’t take the place of your human family, but we love you just the same.”
I smiled in genuine pleasure at her words. “I’m supposed to be giving you the pep talk.”
Officially I have been dead for two years—that’s what my death certificate states. My death was faked, forcing me to end contact with my human friends and family—it is the price for becoming undead.
Thoughts of family and un-death brought up memories of Monica.
I shivered involuntarily not liking the chills that ran coldly over my skin. I always got chills when I thought about the reason that I’m raising her baby as my own.
She told Paul and me that she’d drain the little bastard if I didn’t take it away.
But it wasn’t just her comment about her then unborn baby … it was Monica herself that gave me the willies.
I’d see her tomorrow since our territorial meetings were still being held in the manor house once owned by Johan; my predecessor, and where Monica now lived.
Johan, the Vampire whose place I had taken on the Council, had been killed by my own hands and as punishment his house never felt like home. Once I moved out we referred to it as Johan’s, the meetinghouse or the manor. Prior to BJ’s birth Monica had lived with Paul and me in our new home … Of course there was no way that could continue after her baby draining comments. So now she seems fully comfortable at the manor.
Tyler was watching me with hooded eyes.
“Don’t think about her … we’ll see her soon enough.” I suppose she could tell by my reaction that Monica had been in my thoughts. She was Lycan after all.
“I … Have you talked to her?”
Tyler shook her head. “I don’t like … ”
After a pause I finished her sentence. “… her in your head.” Monica rummaged through people’s thoughts without permission and she didn’t care if it pissed you off. She seemed to care about very little.
Tyler looked away, her brow creased. I knew that I hurt over Monica, but my pain wasn’t like Tyler’s. They’d been like sisters for many years as part of Johan’s harem. They’d supported and looked out for each other. But now Monica shunned Tyler the way other Vampires did. Even though Monica can withstand the presence of holy relics the way that I can, I think it scares her that Tyler can kill with just a touch of her ungloved hand—a power that none but an Elder Vampire could surpass.
Part of Tyler’s power as my Angel of Death is that she has transformed herself into a holy relic. Her tattooed body is covered in religious images. Not only religious ones but also ones to mask them so that it doesn’t appear to the outside world that she is a Holy Fanatic. The result is that Tyler is now canvas to some beautiful artwork.
Can we say Kat Von D?
Anyways, it didn’t help that Tyler rejected Monica’s invitation to become her blood donor. Once she determined that she had nothing to gain from Tyler she disregarded her and their friendship completely. Guilt at my row in Monica’s death resurfaced.
Tyler’s eyes flashed to me, and her nose flared. “Don’t Kim-”
My eyes shifted away. “I won’t,” I mumbled trying to remind myself that it had not been my fault that the Werewolves had invaded my home and raped and mauled her—nor had it been Paul’s. But after years of suffering at the hands of her cruel Master why did she have to die once I had saved her?
“I guess I better feed.” It was Jason’s turn in the blood rotation. “Where is he?”
“In the office with Paul.”
“Oh, figures. What are they doing?” She followed me as I headed to the office. “Talking Werewolf politics?”
“More than likely planning another full moon getaway.”
That was a good idea. Our new home was on a lot of acreage but it was still within the city limits and it wouldn’t do well for a trio of werewolves to be tramping through the neighbor’s yards. And soon there would be another Werewolf tramping along with them. My daughter had been exhibiting signs that the Lycanthrope had taken hold in her.
At just three months old no one knew what to expect from baby Julie; born of a Vampire mother and Werewolf father. The few humans that have been born from a Vampire father never exhibited the Vampirism traits until after puberty. It was an incredibly rare thing, occurring generally when the human mother has been changed while pregnant. However, we don’t know any other Werewolves and have no idea what to expect.
When I opened the office door both Paul and Jason were already watching the door. If I had tiptoed they still would have heard my approach. Paul wolf whistled when he saw me dressed for the meeting.
Jason was just s
haking his head. “You must make the rest of the Council feel like hill jacks.”
“I try my best.”
You would have thought Jason was my man the way he walked towards me, unconsciously unbuttoning his shirt.
Wordlessly we stepped into our familiar embrace, he with his hands resting on my waist, me with my hands on his shoulders.
Jason was tall and lanky so he always stooped forward slightly so that I could easily reach his neck without rubbing up against his body. The day he stopped doing that is the day I knew that he had crossed the line from blood-lust to lust-lust. And that would be the day that I could not risk ever taking another feeding from him again. My desires were held by little more than tape and string as it is.
I had made a vow to my husband that I would never allow myself to fall in love with anyone…and definitely not Tyler’s man.
I could smell his blood through the skin of his neck and although I had already fed some earlier with Paul, Jason’s blood was a different flavor, a different feast.
Each of my donors tasted different but my Werewolf donors were my favorite. I’d never had a real blood lust for human blood, but Werewolf blood was an altogether different matter. I wanted it even when my body wasn’t hungry.
Unfortunately with Werewolves you had to practice more caution. Paul would never leave me alone to feed from Tyler or Jason without him present. We found that the closer we got to the full moon the harder it was for their Wolf to accept the Vampire in me.
Paul was the exception. He was mated to me, and therefore had gained some level of acceptance of my Vampire. But Tyler and Jason were a conundrum. As my human donors they were subservient to me as a Vampire. Werewolves don’t allow anyone to dominate them outside of their pack. Not even me as their Master. To feed from Jason and Tyler took a lot of trial and painful error. I had to prove to their Wolves that me taking their blood was a trade. I had to always give…never just take.
I moved slowly because trying to move too quickly generally resulted in me becoming injured. It has been many months since I’ve been slashed so maybe I was out of the woods.
I couldn’t see them but I knew that Jason’s teeth had come forward because I could feel the tendons in his neck instantly thicken—but just as quickly his body relaxed. I pushed a suggestion for relaxation, calm, no anxiety and it took fast.
I luxuriated in the taste of him until he weaved on his feet and I knew that I needed to stop. It was hard to think when I had to remember to put up a mental wall protecting me from being overwhelmed by the lust, remembering to give him the suggestion not to be anxious and to relax, then also remembering that despite how good the blood felt running down my throat I had to stop before the pulse weakened.
With a grunt I sealed the bite and used my tongue to heal the bruising. Jason blinked and the dazed look left his eyes.
“Wow. Thanks.” He touched the wound on his neck and then rebuttoned his shirt.
“Thank you. It doesn’t still hurt does it?”
“No. I don’t feel anything there. You’re getting better at this.”
Tyler came up to him and pulled him into an embrace and I went over to the desk where Paul was scrutinizing the paperwork there. He may have appeared to be totally absorbed in all the files and documents on the desk, but I knew that he was fully aware of every move I made and every action that was made around me.
I sat on the edge of the desk and lifted a file. Shit. This was a case file concerning one of the safe houses, and it was a month old. I hadn’t even opened it yet. Hell there could be information on life and death matters in it and I had yet to even open it.
I felt my muscles tense anxiously, which wiped away the high that Jason’s blood had just put me on.
Paul, who had been an investment broker in his old life, placed a soothing hand on my knee without taking his eyes from his paperwork.
“You need a secretary.”
Monica had been my secretary but now she was just a scary Vampire… “Yes.” I finally agreed. Paul looked at me and behind him Tyler and Jason watched me.
“Let’s do it,” I whispered. Then I disappeared from the room.
CHAPTER 2
I reappeared in BJ’s bedroom; my baby Julie—my last link to my friend. I inhaled the smell of baby and talc and lotion that constantly hung in the air. She was in her crib, cherubic with rosy cheeks sucking on an invisible nipple as she slept soundly.
My heart swelled in love for her. She didn’t have to be born of my loins for me to love her completely. I wondered for the millionth time how I had messed it up so badly; siring Monica. I had created a child that was evil. Maybe all of her goodness was inside of this precious little baby girl.
I put my hand on her warm head and stroked the soft downy curls. I ached to lift her from her bed and cuddle her against my chest. But the hour was late and I didn’t want to risk waking her just out of a need to hold a piece of her mother in my arms.
I sat down in the rocker and looked out at the beautiful nursery. How Monica would have loved the Tiffany blue paint on the walls. She loved shopping at Tiffany’s. I rocked and gave into the unwanted memories, memories of Monica’s rising, memories that still scared me.
~***~
As Monica fed from my wrist after she rose, I felt myself getting weaker but I could sense that her body wasn’t nearly sated. Her injuries caused her hunger to be much more intensified. I clenched and unclenched my fist and Karen was at my side before I realized that she had moved. That told me right there that this wasn’t good for me.
She offered me her neck and I pictured this from someone else’s eyes and it looked freaky but I had no choice. I would soon begin to cramp with hunger. We formed a feeding ménage a trois while Tony continued to kneel onto Monica’s back holding her down. How did others do this alone?
In all the commotion I simply forgot to shield and Karen and I were both feeling the effects of the feeding. This time it was Paul that intervened by moving Karen out of my grasp. Mara slid in to replace her.
Monica never let up on my wrist. When the blood slowed she had no problems biting into my flesh to replenish the flow. The sensation was unpleasant, as if I was nothing more than a straw!
Tony was staring at me. “Stop. Make her stop.” I had already finished feeding from Mara and Monica had yet to end her hold on me.
I wanted to protest. She was still hungry but also, I was afraid that if I stopped her she’d attack. But the feeding was beginning to affect me. I felt strangely light and heavy at the same time; as if I could float through the air except for the fact that my limbs felt like lead weights were tied to them.
“Make her stop,” Tony insisted firmly.
I looked at Monica alarmed at the feral look on her face. “Monica!” My voice was sharp and she paused. “Enough.” Once I had her attention I had lowered my tone.
She ignored me!
A sense of self-preservation flared up in me. “ENOUGH!” I growled.
Slowly she released my wrist. Tony moved off of her.
I watched her wanting to hold her in my arm and rock her and kiss her but I was forced to command her as if she was some zombie ghoul!
Tony stepped away from the bed. “You’re her Master,” meaning that I needed to act like it.
My heart was breaking. I had her sit up, which she did with much more grace than she had used when attacking me. I covered her nudity with the sheet.
“Do you know what has happened to you?” I asked after a prolonged silence.
At least she had lost that dead look to her eyes. When she looked at me I saw recognition. But her eyes remained cold. She looked around the room and then met the eyes of each of us. Mara and Karen watched expectantly.
She suddenly grimaced, crying out in pain as she clutched her middle. “I hurt-” I sat down on the bed and gripped her shoulders. “… hurts,” she cried pitifully. I pulled her into my arms and finally got my chance to hold and rock her as I had so ached to do.
When Ton
y was sure that she wouldn’t attack he got up and moved to join the others. It was quiet for a very long time and when I thought to look over my shoulder at the other people in the room, they all watched Monica with worried looks. I learned later that she watched everyone except Tony with a predatory gaze.
We immediately returned to the states. I needed to be on familiar ground and I missed Tyler and Jason who had been returned immediately for medical attention.
Back at the house was the beginning of a slow awakening. I thought that after the initial transformation Monica would return by small degrees. But she never did. The Vampire had all of Monica’s memories, she had surpassed Monica’s looks but it wasn’t Monica.
I was uncomfortable enough about this to approach Tony a few months later. We hadn’t spoken in weeks, not even at the Council meetings. But I went to him on this particular night. He had been born a second--I suspected that he had even killed his loved ones upon awakening. But he had regained some recognizable humanity. I needed to understand what to expect.
I followed my mental link to him.
“Tony. I need to talk to you.”
I could feel him turn his attention to me. “What’s wrong?”
“Monica.”
An instant later Tony appeared next to me. I felt him coming but it happened so fast that I stilled jumped.
He looked around. We were in my office. He took a seat in front of my desk.
“She’s not…what I expected.”
Tony nodded. “She won’t be the same as she was prior to the turn.” After a moment his expression softened. “Yeah, and you’re right. She’s not the way she’s supposed to be.”
The tension left my body with his confirmation of my suspicions. “I…have been letting her go out hunting.”
“Alone?” He gave me a curious but non-judgmental look.
“I don’t know what else to do. It’s been three months and she is done well alone. It’s just ... ”
