And it's the same with me, she wanted to say, but could only give him a look deep with yearning. She knew they must end this madness but didn't want to stop; she could stay with him all night long and never tire of his kisses, his caresses. Yes, and for all their nights to come, until the end of time
He stepped back, his face revealing his anguish. "You're driving me crazy, do you know that? Do you know what I want to do to you–with you? Do you know how I hunger for you?"
She could only nod, finding no words to reveal her desire for him, this sweet yearning inside her that she must deny herself–and him, for where would it lead them? Once they made love, she could never live without the pleasure he alone could give. And how much did she know about him? Would he still be here tomorrow, and the next day, and the next? But Goddess, would she ever satisfy this craving for him that still burned inside her, this reminder of how much she wanted to make love with him!
He kissed her lightly on the forehead. "You don't need to say a word, my darling. I had better take you back."
Chapter Ten
Returned from Ros Creda over two nine-days later, Stilo headed for Kane's apartment building, not far from his own, a magnificent structure of sarsen stone, with bas relief figures of gods and goddesses that embellished the outside. Splendid oak trees lined both sides of the cobblestone street that led to the apartment building, and an occasional rose bush added color and a lovely aroma. Mostly well-dressed men and women strolled the streets in this hour of early evening, when dusk had descended over the city and the air cooled with the sun's sinking on the eastern horizon. Grand apartment buildings and mansions comprised this area of the city on Granno's Way, where prosperous merchants and government officials resided, not to mention a few bandregas, unknown to the others.
Before he'd left Moytura, Stilo had torn down the sign the courier had posted to the village bulletin board, in which Angus Kendall had offered a reward for Fianna's capture. A spurt of optimism quickened his stride, for he intended to try again to ensnare this beautiful woman, first using his magic to erase the memory of his previous failure from her mind.
Rain fell from leaden skies, beginning as a drizzle, soon becoming a downpour. Men and women rushed for shelter, heading for their own homes. Stilo dashed through the streets, keeping close to the buildings as lightning scorched the sky and bursts of light fell all around him.
Brushing raindrops from his hair and clothes, Stilo knocked on Kane's door at the ground level and was ushered inside the spacious apartment, where oil lamps revealed a long blue velvet sofa, a few occasional chairs of the same material, and a thick sheepskin rug. Where Kane's wife was he didn't know and couldn't care less. The bandrega women had learned long ago to recognize the men as their masters and knew their subservient place in society, their purpose to provide sex, produce children, and manage the household.
He handed a leather satchel to Kane. "The rings, more to come very soon."
"Ah, yes." Kane gestured toward a chair. "Sit down," he said, taking a place across from him on the sofa. Since Stilo was with a fellow bandrega, he'd dropped the glamour upon his entrance, both men revealing a feral look to their faces, long ears and noses, their furry hands with claws.
"Only one hundred rings here," Stilo offered, "not nearly enough for all the bandregas."
The leader scratched his chin. "Almost time for our people to journey to the sacred well in Magh Eamhainn. That would be the best time to distribute the rings, when all of us are together." He opened the satchel and withdrew a ring, studying it from all angles by the light of an oil lamp on the table. "When I hand them out, it must be on a first-come, first-served basis. You know there are always stragglers who arrive at the well long after many of us have left. Perhaps when they see what they have missed, it will encourage them to arrive on time next moonphase. And some of our kind never do appear at Magh Eamhainn, preferring to stay as they are. Fools, who don't know what they are missing." He frowned. "I will enforce the rule, that all of our kind must appear at the sacred well at the beginning of every moonphase. If they don't, they will be ostracized, driven from the city."
Kane's eyes lit up. "As for the rings, do you see what this means? Any vampire who attacks us will find we disappear as soon as they bite and draw blood." His voice rose in anger. "For too long, we have existed at the mercy of the undead. Time we fought back. And now that we have fooled the mortals of Avador into thinking it is the vampires who are killing them, we will soon be rid of the undead. Only a matter of time."
Stilo frowned. "Yet we still have not gained immortality, not even I, part vampire that I am."
"Ah, immortality!" Kane sat back, a look of cunning on his face. "Did you know I have several bandregas working on this very attribute? No, I can see you didn't know. That was the purpose of my visit to Fomoria, to discuss this matter with the bandrega leader there." He made a face. "A backward country, Fomoria, the mortals so primitive compared to those of Avador. But soon we will conquer them all," he said, gesturing widely, "the mortals of Avador and Fomoria, eventually the rest of the continent. Yes, and the vampires, too. We will defeat them all! But first, we must gain immortality, a matter of adding the right ingredients to the well water in Magh Eamhainn." He smiled slyly. "There will be no stopping us then."
"Let that day come soon!" Stilo pounded his clawed fist on his knee. "Get rid of the vampires and mortals of Avador, then the entire continent."
"Patience, my dear Stilo, patience." He leaned forward. "Until then, we still have our many skills. We can practice black magic and make ourselves look human. We can seduce mortal women by applying the glamour, to make ourselves appear handsome and virile."
Except that his planned seduction of Fianna hadn't worked, Stilo silently lamented, damn Gaderian Wade! But he would try again . . . and soon.
Kane's voice jerked him back to the moment. "A little less than one nine-day 'til the next moonphase. We shall all gather at the sacred well at Magh Eamhainn then."
Stilo snickered. "Strange that the humans have not caught on to us. Here we move among them and they don't know what we are." He paused. "No, not really strange. They think we disappeared long ago, stupid mortals! We are truly clever in applying the glamour. And now that we've made it look as if the vampires are killing the mortals–"
"Queen Keriam has offered a reward for the capture of the vampires," Kane finished with a sharp look Stilo's way.
"I could turn in every vampire I know," Stilo said, "and believe me, I know many. But it suits my purpose–our purpose–to mingle with them, discover their plans. Later, when the time is right, I'll tell on them. Let the authorities turn them out in the sunlight. It will soon be obvious that they are the undead." He smirked. "Let them burn to ashes. Only think of the reward money I'll collect. Their leader is feckless, no help at all to them. Spends more time with his mistresses than he does in guiding the undead." He paused. "I find my bandrega half growing stronger all the time. By the time I turn them in, I should be able to endure the sunlight myself."
"What about the vampire you were telling me about a few ninedays ago–what's his name?" Kane asked.
"Gaderian Wade. I've heard that he aims to become leader of the undead, a goal I will do everything possible to prevent. Much better for us if Orrick remains the vampire leader, lazy bastard that he is." He smiled slyly. "Funny how those vampires talk among themselves when they think no one else is listening. I pick up much information that way."
"I've seen Wade with that new scryer at the Snow Leopard." Kane licked his lips. "What a woman! Beautiful face, tempting body . . ."
"Angharad Cullain," Stilo said, irritation increasing his heartbeat. He didn't want to hear anyone else speak of Fianna, nor would he tell even his own leader her real name. "She fancies that she cares for Wade, but I intend to change her mind."
"Let us rid ourselves of Gaderian Wade. Something tells me he wants to destroy us." Kane spoke matter-of-factly. "A determined man such as he is a hindrance to our plans.
Just as well that Orrick remains their leader." His harsh facial features tightened. "Destroy Gaderian Wade!"
"Oh, I intend to," Stilo agreed. "But give me time. For one thing, I need to revive myself at the sacred well, since it's about time for all of us to travel there again. Just as important, I mean to seduce Angharad Cullain, and I want to make Wade suffer by seeing that she belongs to me." He looked out the wide window, where blackness covered the city, with only street lamps illuminating the cobblestones. He turned back to Kane. "Just you wait. Soon enough, I will destroy Gaderian Wade."
* * *
Sporting his new ring less than one nineday later, a bandrega prowled the streets of Moytura, looking for sex with a mortal woman. Nighttime had long since fallen over the capital, most of the stores and shops locked up, their awnings secured. Mostly clothing shops lined both sides of the street, interspersed with an occasional hat shop or shoe store. In this, one of the less desirable parts of the city, a few vagrants wandered the streets, and here and there a shopkeeper hurried home after a long work day.
Ah, yes, he could have a good time with a bandrega woman, the man silently acknowledged, but sex with a mortal woman added much more spice and excitement, especially if that woman fought his hold. A struggle and the inevitable conquest heightened his enjoyment and gave him a sense of power. Driven wild with desire, his body hardened until it became near painful as his gaze covered the streets and alleys for a human female. He knew he looked his best, as handsome and appealing as any mortal man, with his dark hair and straight nose, full lips. But where was a woman for him to fornicate? He lightly caressed his engorged penis, and wave after wave of longing heated his body. He dropped his hand, and through force of will, dampened his passion, reluctant to give himself away too soon.
There! A few yards ahead, a young woman stepped out from a dress shop and locked the door, obviously done for the day. She was young and pretty, he observed as he approached her, studying her even features and trim figure, her provocative breasts, neither too full nor too small, just the way he liked them. He clenched his hand, imagining how he would fondle those breasts, squeezing the luscious fruit, sucking on her nipples. He wouldn't seek quick gratification, he vowed as he drew nearer, but liked to make his sexual experience last. And these shop girls were so easy to seduce.
She glanced up at the sound of his footsteps, an expression of alarm on her face. Her gaze darted from left to right, as if seeking a means of escape. Hmm, maybe she wouldn't be so easy, after all. His planned ensnarement might require a little persuasion on his part.
"Hey, pretty girl," he said, now face to face with her. "You know, a young woman like you should not be wandering the streets alone at night. Not safe." He smiled widely, attempting to turn the full force of his charm on her. "Allow me to walk you home." Sweat slicked his forehead and dampened his tunic as lustful images raged through his mind.
She stepped back. "You stay away from me. I don't walk with strangers, and I'm perfectly capable of going home alone, been doing it for years. Only tonight, I had to work late and–" She stopped talking and bit her lower lip, as though aware she'd said too much.
"–and so here you are, alone at night, except for me, of course. But who wants to be by herself on such a lovely evening as this? And I can think of better things to do than walk." He hardened again, scarcely able to wait. Passion burgeoned inside him, as hot as burning coals.
Clutching her by the waist, he pressed his body against hers, leaving no doubt of his desire. "See what I mean?"
"No!" She jerked free and tried to run, but he caught her and swung her around. "No!" She twisted in his arms, her face set in fearful desperation.. She opened her mouth to scream, but he shoved his hand over her lips. His recent trip to the sacred well had given him such power, superhuman—superbandrega!–strength. He held her fast, and one glance told him no one else was about, except for one man, a long distance away, coming in their direction. But the bandrega intended to finish the deed before the man guessed what was happening. He dragged her into an alley, even while she fought and kicked his shins. He panted, not with effort but with excitement. Ah, this was going to feel good.
"Now we can either make this pleasant," he said in a conversational tone, "or I might have to use a little persuasion. Which is it to be?"
A look of terror captured her face as he raised his tunic and released his bulging, throbbing penis. She twisted in his hold, scratching her long nails across his cheek.
He flung his head back, blazing with anger. "Bitch! Persuasion it will have to be then," he said, pressing against her. "I wanted to make this a nice, pleasant experience, but you–"
A hand clamped on his shoulder, someone jerking him around. Shock rendered him speechless, his heart hammering. Struggling in the man's grip, he found his situation reversed with his recent and almost victim.
"Run!" the stranger ordered the woman. Needing no more inducement, she ran away, only once looking back before she turned the corner.
"As for you–" Furious and taunted by hunger, Gaderian bit into the man's throat, and– The man disappeared! Just like that! A mist formed in his place as Gaderian stared in shocked silence.
Tense seconds passed, but still he saw nothing but a vapor, which gradually drifted away. A bark of laughter filled the silence, leaving him puzzled and groping for answers.
* * *
"I'm telling you what happened," Gaderian declared several nights later inside Orrick's splendid apartment. "It must be one of the bandregas, for no mortal man has this power." A cool breeze wafted the silken draperies at the windows. A heavy patchouli scent polluted the air, evidence that Orrick's latest mistress must be somewhere about, no doubt in the bedchamber.
Orrick frowned. "Disappeared, you say?" Tall and beefy, he had the look of a pugilist, or of a retired soldier who'd let his body go to seed. Bushy brown hair sprouted from a round head, thick eyebrows topping dark, penetrating eyes. Deep wrinkles tracked his forehead and cheeks.
Gaderian snapped his fingers. "Disappeared, just like that!"
"You sure you didn't have too much to drink that night?" The vampire leader smirked.
Irritation roiled inside Gaderian, a muscle twitching in his jaw. And this is the leader of the undead, he fumed. He shifted his position in the chair. "You know I don't drink to excess. I'm telling you what I saw, what happened that night." Talmora's tits! What did he have to say to convince the man?
"Witnesses?" Orrick asked with a raised eyebrow. "What about the lady in question?"
He struggled to suppress his annoyance with the obstinate leader. "I told you, she had already run away."
"Ah, yes, you did say that, didn't you? So I have only your word." He sat back and crossed his legs.
Gaderian's irritation increased, his pulse pounding. "Come on, Orrick! What could I possibly gain by making this story up?" Although he was seething inside, he fought to keep his voice even. Must not let the leader see how rattled he was. "Look what the bandregas have done, just within the past few years. They have created fear of the vampires among the humans. Now there is a reward offered for our capture. Every bit as important, how do they get their powers? How do they make themselves look human? It was not always so, Orrick. I remember and surely you do, too. More than a century ago, the bandregas had to stay within their own villages, never mingle with the mortals who would see them for the demons–the monsters!–they are. Now they can apply the glamour and practice black magic. And more recently, they can make themselves disappear. Haven't you ever wondered how these changes came about?"
The vampire leader stretched his legs out. "It has crossed my mind now and then. And yes, I wish I knew how they have affected these changes. But until we can do something about the situation, we need to find out more." He looked away for a moment, speaking to a distant corner of the room. "We must develop a plan."
Gaderian scoffed. "Forget about a goddess-damned plan. Isn't it past time we had another meeting of our representatives? We usually mee
t at the beginning of every moonphase. We must discover how the bandregas have acquired these powers, how they have learned to make themselves look human, and yes, how they can make themselves invisible. I intend to do something about it." He pointed his finger at the leader. "And I intend to defeat them."
Chapter Eleven
Fianna emerged from the Snow Leopard onto the wet cobblestones as a recent shower slowed to a drizzle and gradually stopped. The scent of rain hung in the air, a fresh, clean aroma and a welcome relief after the tavern's smoke-heavy dining room. Within minutes, the clouds drifted away, a quarter moon and millions of stars lighting a cobalt sky. A cool breeze lifted her hair from her neck and prompted her to draw her woolen shawl closer about her shoulders as she headed for the wooden bench to sit for a while before retiring for the night. Raindrops from the oak tree dripped onto her arms, and the streetlights cast a dull path on the wet cobblestones. An occasional vagrant tramped past, but for the most part, few people frequented the streets at this late hour.
Voices reached her from the other side of a vast oak, a tree that hid her from view. One voice left her with no doubt of the speaker.
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