fOR WHO THE spELL tOLLS

by H. P. Mallory

  As to the link between the painting and the title, I was still baffled. “I give up. There’s nothing about this picture that in any way says law enforcement,” I said, shaking my head as I attempted not to be rude because, I mean, it was a portrait of me which in and of itself was supposed to be flattering. ’Course, I also couldn’t say the sexual way in which I was represented was in any way pleasing, but I also couldn’t say I was surprised. I mean, this was Bram we were talking about …

  The vampire chuckled, facing me with an arched brow of amusement. “You misunderstood, Sweet.” Then he glanced at the painting again. “The title refers to the law of nature, my dear, not the law of man.”

  “I don’t get the law of nature from it either,” I grumbled, deciding I wasn’t a fan of my portrait. “I look like a woodland prostitute.”

  Bram chuckled again but it didn’t appear his attention was in any way focused on me, the real me. Instead, he seemed fully enraptured by and with the painting. The chuckle died on his lips, not even leaving the ghost of a smile in its wake. “It is an absolute masterpiece, the finest specimen of art on which I have ever had the fortune of laying my eyes.”

  “Then it must also be the only painting you’ve ever seen period.”

  But Bram shook his head, still unable to pull his attention away from the portrait. I glanced up at it again and sighed. “Instead of titling it the ‘Fairy Law,’ you should have called it ‘Fairy in need of a bra,’” I finished, deciding I’d now had enough of the painting and of Bram for the evening. Nothing like ruining an evening by being forced to confront a barely clothed rendition of yourself.

  “I have stood and admired your portrait more times than I care to remember,” Bram said in a level, serious tone. “I must admit I am wholly transfixed by the beauty of the subject, how she teases me and flaunts her feminine loveliness, showing me just enough but not too much.”

  “Holy Hades, it’s getting late, Bram …”

  Finally he turned to face me and seemed to study me, as if he were comparing me to the painting. He glanced at my portrait and then at me again, his eyes narrowing. “I will admit the portrait does lack your edge, your feistiness. It is what I imagine Sweet would be had she not experienced the ugliness that exists in this world.”

  “How poetic,” I said with a quick but unconvincing smile. “But I fail to see how that picture has anything in common with me.”

  Bram didn’t shift his gaze, just continued to stare at me as if he could see through me to the other side of the room. There was no expression on his face. “She is the absolute embodiment of you,” he whispered.

  I shook my head, throwing my hands on my hips as I forced my attention back to the Forest Slut. “She is not. For one, she’s coy—I don’t do coy. Second, her boobs are bordering on an E and third she looks like a whorish version of Rapunzel because her hair is so ridiculously long. And my eyes are nowhere near that shade of green.”

  “Then you fail to recognize your own splendor,” Bram muttered, unmoved. “She is you and you are she.”

  “Then I guess we’ll agree to disagree,” I said quickly, taking a few steps away from the portrait and toward the door in a charade of “I hate that painting and let’s get going.”

  But Bram made no motion to accompany me. Instead, he stood rooted to the same spot. “I have lost count of the evenings I have stood here alone staring into her intelligent and glorious eyes, bemoaning the fact that I do not possess magic, otherwise I should have magicked her into reality, created my very own creature such that Mary Shelley dreamt of.”

  “A monster Dulcie, that sounds really nice,” I grumbled, shaking my head.

  “Far from a monster,” Bram said sadly and took the few steps that separated us. His lips lifted into a strange smirk that wasn’t a smile but hinted that there was something going on in the gray matter between his ears.

  “Are you ready to go?” I asked, my voice coming out almost hesitantly. There was just something about his eyes that seemed … different somehow. Really, it was his whole disposition—something was off.

  “There have been many moments when I have wished she would inch up her gown just a fraction more, allow me to feast my eyes on her forbidden fruit.”

  “I’ve heard enough,” I said grumpily, not wanting to point out the fact that he was starting to sound like he was losing his grip on sanity—I mean, there was no way a painting could lift up her skirt but I wasn’t in the mood to point out the obvious because I didn’t want any part of the direction this conversation was headed.

  Bram didn’t say anything but continued to stare at me, his eyes boring into mine. What was strange was that I couldn’t pull my attention away from his gaze, it was as though I was a deer, locked in the headlights of Bram’s eyes.

  “It’s getting late,” I said softly, barely recognizing the sound of my own voice.

  I was scarcely aware of Bram taking another two steps toward me and I wasn’t sure how many seconds it was until he stood a mere breath away from me but it felt like a split second in the same time that it felt like an eternity. There was just something about his expression, about the way his eyes seemed like deep holes of vivid blue. Even as I stared into them, they began to darken. He said nothing but reached out and took hold of both of my upper arms, as if forcing me to stare into his eyes. His grip was tight but not uncomfortable.

  “Wha—” I started but then couldn’t finish my sentence. Words failed me because it seemed his eyes had somehow changed color, that their ordinary blue had blazed into a dark navy with specks of gold and those specks appeared to be swirling in a circular pattern. They began to move so quickly, I couldn’t see the individual specks any longer, but just a ring of yellow around his eyes.

  “Show me your magic,” he whispered and although I could recognize the words, I had a difficult time attaching any meaning to them. Unable to do anything else, I just stared into the void of his eyes helplessly. I could feel the cold of his breath against my forehead, but I couldn’t focus on it, couldn’t pull my eyes from the golden glow of his.

  “Create your magic for me, Sweet,” he whispered again. Even though I couldn’t register his words, my hand suddenly moved of its own accord, my fingers closing into a fist. Without giving myself the direction, I shook my fist until I felt the glittery fragments of my fairy dust in my palm.

  “As she is you and you are she, become her for me, Sweet.”

  I didn’t understand what he was asking of me. But it didn’t matter because it was as if my body was on autopilot. I felt my arm raise up above my head as I released my fingers and the shimmering dust fell about my hair and face like an ethereal curtain. My eyes shifted to the painting behind Bram and narrowed as I took in every detail of the golden-haired woman who now seemed as if she was smiling. It felt like a swirl of warm air that started at my toes, twirling itself up my legs, my waist, my breasts and higher still, to the crown of my head. I blinked and in the span of that split second, I felt the tendrils of my now incredibly long hair snaking around my body, the kiss of flower blossoms against my cheeks.

  Something is wrong! I heard the voice inside my head but, again, couldn’t understand the meaning of the words. Instead, I found my eyes stapled to the vision of the man before me. He stared down at me and a smirk lit up his face, a face that was so beautiful, I had never seen its equal. I desperately wanted to reach out and run my fingers across the velvet of his skin, sink my index finger between his lips and feel the wetness of his mouth.

  “Remarkable,” the deity before me proclaimed as his gaze traveled from my face down to my breasts and down still to my legs, only to arrive back at my eyes again. “You are real.”

  No! That voice rang out within me. Fight him!

  But a moment later, the voice was forgotten. Instead, I wanted nothing more than to lose myself in the blue void of the eyes of the magnificent creature before me. He gazed at me and I felt something warm bubble up from within me, it was a feeling of complete happiness, as
if nothing could ever harm me, as if I were ensconced in a safe haven. I felt as if I was right where I was meant to be.

  “Perhaps I do possess a magic of my own,” the being spoke and brought his finger to the side of my cheek. I closed my eyes as soon as I felt his touch and pushed my face into his caress, wanting him to understand how his touch sent shivers down my spine and made it almost difficult to stand.

  Dulcie! That angry voice sounded within me and I felt my eyes pop open in response.

  The creature smiled as he gazed into my eyes, his canines lengthening. And then the voice was a simple memory, something intangible and, as such, unreal.

  “Please,” I said, surprised by the words coming off my tongue. The immortal before me seemed to understand my need, as much as I wasn’t able to explain it myself. He bowed low and pulled me into him, angling my head back and staring into my eyes as the gold of his irises began to spin even faster, ensnaring me in his web. He brought his lips to mine and I felt my eyelids fluttering closed once I felt the lush softness of his lips and how tender his kiss was.

  Knight! The word flashed through my head but I didn’t understand the meaning. There was a blankness in my mind that I didn’t fully comprehend, something that felt numb and incapable of rational thought. While the void of my thoughts continued to plague me, I felt the deity, the god’s, tongue suddenly infiltrating my mouth, mating with my tongue while the points of his fangs indented my lip, not breaking my flesh but threatening to. And I suddenly wanted him to break my flesh, to sink his fangs into me so I could provide his sustenance, so I could, in some way, give back to him the feelings he was engendering in me. I wanted to become his vessel from which he could drink and, what was more, I wanted to become the vessel with which he could vent his masculine need.

  Something blossomed within my gut, a feeling I recognized. It was as if a trove of butterflies had suddenly become airborne in the deep recesses of my body, fluttering their gossamer wings in unison until a great maelstrom brewed within me. But there was a sharpness to their wings, a sort of stinging need, a yearning that flooded me deep down in my core. And I knew the only answer to this deeply seated need was to become one with this god, to allow him entrance into my body.

  The deity pulled away from me and even though he didn’t say anything, I opened my eyes obediently, as if he had silently issued the command.

  “You do desire me, after all,” he whispered, a broad grin on his face. Then he stepped away and took me in from head to toe again, panting as he did so. All I could do was focus on the deep blue of his eyes, finding the once gold circles were now a deep purple, mesmerizing in the way they circled around his irises so quickly.

  Even though I didn’t shift my gaze from his eyes, I could see his hand reaching toward me and the touch of his fingers brushing the yellow fabric just above my nipple, was almost too much. I closed my eyes and breathed out.

  “Look at me,” he said and I immediately opened my eyes again, losing myself in the velvet of his gaze. I felt him brush the strap of the dress down from my shoulder and then his fingertips against my naked breast. He grazed my nipple and I felt the yearning, stinging sensation between my thighs begin pounding, demanding some form of release. He captured my nipple between his thumb and index finger and pinched until I feared I might pass out.

  “Dulcie, you must fight me,” he breathed but I didn’t understand his words, couldn’t see through the cloudiness that was consuming me. He brought his other hand to my opposite shoulder and brushed the strap of my dress down my shoulder, baring my other breast as his eyes feasted on it.

  Dulcie! That inward voice screamed out again. Fight!

  “Do not give in to me,” the creature said softly as his mouth found my breast and his tongue circled my nipple.

  I wanted to tell him that I didn’t understand. Why would I fight him when I wanted nothing more than to give in to him? “You don’t want me?” I felt the words leave my mouth.

  He pulled away from me and his gaze seemed to strip me down to my very core. “You do not understand,” he breathed. “I desire you more than I have ever desired anyone or anything.”

  “Then take me,” I crooned, grabbing his hand and placing it on my breast again. “I am yours to do with as you please.” The words ricocheted through me, spreading my desire to every corner of my body. “I belong to you.”

  He didn’t say anything but just stared at me, no expression on his face. Then he gripped the back of my neck with one hand and with the other, lifted my body with his incredible strength until I was straddling him. As soon as I felt his tongue in my mouth, the yearning within my belly became an all out fire, consuming me with its fingers of fiery desire. I felt a wind swirling around my legs but couldn’t focus on the fact that there were no open windows in the room. Instead, I marveled at the feel of his tongue on my nipple as the wind began whipping up my legs, circling around and around as it danced its way up to my thighs. I undulated against him, rubbing my pelvis into his stomach, wanting him to understand that I was his.

  “Dulcie,” his voice interrupted the carnal feelings of need ricocheting through me and when he set me on my feet, taking a step back, I felt suddenly cold and empty.

  “I do not want you like this,” he said almost angrily.

  “No,” I demanded and grabbed his hand, trying to force it between my thighs. “Touch me and you will want me,” I whispered.

  He pulled away and clasped both his hands behind his back, as if afraid I might go after them again. “Use your strength and fight me, dammit,” he ordered.

  I threw my head back and felt a moan break through my lips as the wind suddenly forced its way between my thighs and circled my most sensitive area, breathing against me with a force that made my knees go wobbly. I started to fall and felt his arms suddenly around me but he didn’t force me upright, instead he held me at an angle, both of us watching as the wind forced my dress up to my navel. I glanced at his face and found his eyes glued to the feminine flesh between my legs.

  “Take me; I am yours,” I whispered.

  Dulcie, fight his power! The voice rang through my head, this time stronger and clearer than before. I started to glance up at him but the voice stopped me. Do not look into his eyes!

  The wind seemed to build in intensity and I could feel it pushing my legs apart, intent on burying itself within me.

  “Show me your strength,” the creature holding me demanded, his tone of voice constricted, almost pained. “I cannot fight this much longer,” he finished, shaking his head as he started to trail his fingers down my stomach.

  “Don’t fight it,” I responded, at the same time that pain lodged itself right between my eyes and I had to clench them shut to force it away.

  “My desire for you is beginning to cloud my judgment,” he whispered.

  Dulcie, for fuck sake! The woman’s voice inside my head screamed at me. It took me a second or two to recognize it as my own.

  I locked my thighs against the power of the wind and clenched my eyes shut tight, the feelings of bliss and harmony slowly beginning to bleed away. I shook my head as dawning realization claimed me. My breathing escalated as the wind began to die down. Even though there was still an overwhelming sense of need within me, something that begged me to open my legs and let the magnificent creature above me take me or, failing him, let the wind take me, there was also something else that rebelled.

  Remnants of need and bliss diminishing, I forced myself upright, out of his hold and bent over, with my hands on my thighs as I tried to catch my breath. I shook my head, trying to clear the illusion from my mind and eyes. Within seconds, my grip on sanity returned and with it, the liquid heat of anger. Once I felt like I could stand on my own feet without the risk of falling over, I stood up and turned around to face Bram, who watched me with narrowed but inquisitive eyes. He was panting, his canines indenting his lower lip.

  I took the few steps that separated us and without saying anything, unleashed my fist against his
face. To his credit, I was more than sure that he saw the blow coming, given his vampire quickness, but he still allowed me to cold cock him.

  “You son of a bitch!” I screamed at him, but feeling like I was about to pass out, due to the fact that his vampire glamour still hadn’t passed out of my system, I had to lean against the wall and catch my breath.

  “You are lucky I have the strength of mind that I do,” he said as his canines rescinded. “A lesser man would have succumbed to his more primitive nature.”

  “I’m lucky?” I laughed acidly. “You just tried to force yourself on me and I’m the one who’s lucky?”

  Bram shook his head. “I would never force myself on any woman,” he argued. “This was merely a test of your strength and power,” he said simply and then frowned at me. “And you nearly failed it.”

  “Don’t you ever fucking touch me again,” I seethed, still finding it necessary to lean against the wall.

  “I did it for your own good,” Bram ground out, offering me a raised brow expression that said he was surprised by how I was taking it.

  “My own good?” I demanded, trying to find the strength to stand up. I glanced down at myself and found I was still dressed in that awful yellow dress from the painting, only the thing was around my waist, both of my breasts hanging out. Immediately I balled my palm into a fist, sprinkling dust over my head as I imagined myself dressed in jeans, a sweatshirt and sneakers.

  “The Netherworld Guard will include vampires nearly as practiced as I am,” Bram said stiffly, apparently not appreciating the fact that I’d just denied him access to my nudity.