Frost Moon s-1

by Anthony Francis

  "What?" I said. Had she actually said that with company? "No way! I mean, good grief, what is wrong with you, Savannah? You two are horny, strapped in and can't play with each other, so you decide to play with me, is that it?" I adjusted the collar. Again. "Look, I don't care what you and Doug do when Darkrose leaves the two of you alone. Just don't involve me."

  Savannah and Doug looked at each other in shock, then started laughing. "You think I-I mean, with him-" Savannah laughed. "Dakota, you're the one who likes boys."

  "And I'm not about to come between two lovers, much less two vampires" Doug said. "I'm just here for the training, at the request of Sir Charles-"

  "Sir Charles?" A whole forgotten world re-opened in my mind- a road not taken, or at least not traveled in a long while. Sir Charles had been a kindly old Santa Claus looking fellow who was just as comfortable chatting your ear off for hours on end as he was with whipping you until you cried and felt warm and goosy inside. It had been Sir Charles who had introduced Savannah to bondage and puppy play. The last I'd seen him, at least a couple of years ago, he was looking about a hundred and quite unwell. "How is he? Did he ever.. ."

  Savannah lowered her head. "Well… no. He's still on the heart transplant list. He's not doing so bad beyond that, better than before, but he's definitely still on the list."

  "I'm sorry to hear that but… look, I'm on a mission, Savannah," I said, tugging at the ring on the collar. "I don't have time for games. Let's just stipulate that you've made me remember that you're hot, that you've put me in my place, and move the fuck on-"

  "But," Doug said, confused, "if she won't give blood… and she won't, um, you know, how are we going to get a sample?"

  My jaw dropped. "How are you going to get a what, Pup?"

  "A bodily fluid sample," Savannah said, and all I could do was stare at her while she tripped over her words in the rush to explain. "It's not just part of the ritual. We need them to tell if any vampire has drained you-"

  "Can I spit on you? Will that do?" I said. "Hold out your hand "No," she said, in all seriousness. "We need a sample more… charged with your aura. And since I know you'd rather die than give me blood-"

  "Savannah! This is the twenty-first fucking century!" I said. "If you really need samples you can get a finger stick or some swabs from any medical supply house. Between all your bondage games and this 'Vampire Consulate' crap you've probably got one on speed dial!"

  "Yeah" she said. "Actually… yeah. It's not the usual form of the ritual but… Doug, you think he would go for that?"

  "I think he almost certainly would," Doug said. "After all, it is your court."

  "Who would go for what?" I asked, suspicious. "Anyway, you've had your little fun. Now take this thing off and-"

  "We can't," Savannah said. "Darkrose has the keys."

  My eyes bugged. My fingers reached up and felt the lock: it was solidly closed.

  "You have got to be shitting me," I said. "Take this fucking thing off!"

  "We… we can't," she said, suddenly apologetic. "We used the same lock that she puts on Doug and me, and only she has the key "You idiots," I snarled. "What if there was a fire?"

  "She never chains us to anything with those," Doug said. "The leash is just a snap-"

  "Get this fucking thing off me or I swear I will go down to Home Depot and buy a pair of metal clippers and snip the fucking thing off-"

  "A little late for that," Doug said. "You know, the twenty-four hour Home Depot dialed their hours back, so-"

  "I know lots of welders, not to mention professionals specializing in body modification," I said. "Somebody's got something that will get this off-"

  "Dakota! Dakota!" Savannah said, holding up her hands. "I'm so sorry. All right? Given our history, I didn't think it would bother you so much."

  "We split because you started drinking blood which you did because-wait for it-you never think!" I shouted. "If I didn't know better, I'd swear you were a guy always thinking with his dick-"

  "Hey," Doug said.

  "Shut up, Pup," Savannah and I said in unison.

  Savannah studied me in the silence that fell. "Darkrose will be back in a couple of hours. We'll take that lock off and give you a new one with the key, but… you need the collar. I wasn't joking when I said it was the symbol of my house-if you don't have it I can't guarantee that other vampires won't bite first-"

  "You have to be kidding. You have to be kidding!"

  Doug shook his head. "She's not. Even I've been harassed by vampires, and they only quit after I showed them the collar-"

  "Did you have to give a 'sample'?" I asked.

  Doug looked away, embarrassed. "Yes. I don't give blood either."

  The intercom buzzed, and I jumped.

  "Yes, what is it?" Savannah said.

  "Lord Delancaster is here," a man said, and I drew a breath. Delancaster was the vampire who made Savannah into Saffron. "He says you called upon him, Lady Saffron."

  "Tell him our crosses are uncovered, so we shall join him in the vestibule."

  "As you wish, Lady Saffron." The intercom went dead.

  Wonderful. The vampire who made Saffron. I'd never met him. Sight unseen, I despised him. And didn't intend to hang around and do a polite little meet and greet now. "Alright," I said. "Thank you, 'Lady Saffron,' for this damn visa, and for the lovely little show that left it locked around my neck. You go meet with your master, I'll go meet with the werewolves, and we can talk about getting this off me when I get back-"

  I turned to go, but Savannah raised her hand. "Wait, you can't leave. We're not done. Don't you want my protection?"

  I let out my breath. "At this point, no, not really. It's not like every vampire you meet is a serial killer… but… damnit, I do still worry about the pesky few. You know this gang, you tell me-do I need your protection?"

  Savannah sagged in her chair. "It's on the west side," she said, scanning the floor as she considered. "Yes, you do need it. I'm sorry. I'm sad to say, if you really want to be safe, you even need it in the vampire district, if people knew you were my ex-"

  "Damn blood junkies," I said.

  "We're trying to do better," she said, leaning forward, almost pleading. "We really are. Lord Delancaster approves of our efforts. You'll like him-"

  "Not likely," I said, "and in any case I'm not planning to stay and get chummy-"

  "But you have to," she said. "He's the Lord of Georgia. He has to confirm my protection. You need his 'ban'. The sample is for him-that's why I summoned him."

  My jaw tightened. I counted to ten and reminded myself that if a vampire worried about where I was going, I needed protection. And this was from Savannah, who probably really did have my best interests at heart. Son of a bitch. "Of course I have to meet him. How stupid of me not to have realized. The hits just keep on coming," I said. "Let's get this over with."

  "Please don't make a scene," Savannah said. She got up and snapped for Doug to follow her. He started to crawl, and she muttered something, so he got onto his feet, which had the side effect of exposing his little cage again. Oy. The hits really did keep on coming.

  Lord Reynold James Delancaster waited in the vestibule, the perfect parody of a modern vampire. His long silvery hair poured back over the soft brown cape and coat he had apparently stolen from Sherlock Holmes; one hand checked a pocketwatch, which he deposited back into the pocket of a brocaded vest; the other hand rested on the top of a jewel-headed cane.

  Before she'd turned, Savannah had told me breathlessly that he'd been the model for Louis in Interview with the Vampire. Personally, I think he was just hamming it up, and it made him look like a bad copy of Lucius Malfoy.

  "You called," he said, his deep voice sounding more like Lurch from the Addams Family than the whine of everyone's favorite angstridden gothy vampire. "I trust it was urgent."

  Delancaster lived in the Little Five Points District-not far from me in Candler Park, actually-but not as Savannah's subject; as her ruler. Officially his fu
ll title was Lord of the Vampires for Georgia, making Savannah kind of like a mayor in the world of vampire politics.

  "Lord Delancaster," Savannah said, smiling, bowing deferentially to the vampire. I wondered how smart giving her a court was: 'Saffron' was extremely powerful for a such young vampire, and history was filled with empires toppled because the heirs were eager to inherit. Vampire nepotism might make it just as hard to hold onto power.

  But, watching her bowing… I remembered this was Savannah. For all of her supposed power, she was still a wet-behind-the-ears twenty-seven-year-old with a submissive streak. She was obviously treating this like some kind of grand game where she was the star player, and by letting her ham it up Delancaster had no doubt wrapped her round his finger.

  Savannah was up and talking again. "Thank you for coming on such short notice."

  "That is… quite the outfit. Going out for Halloween?" Lord Delancaster asked, kissing her hand. As he did so, he caught sight of Doug's cage and flinched. "Oh my. Hello, Douglas. I take it you are not going out tonight."

  "Hello, RJ," Doug responded, nodding briefly. "Not like this, no."

  "Well, my Lady Saffron," the Lord Delancaster said, with a forced smile. "Your court is always a show."

  "Tell me about it," I muttered. "The sight of a three hundred year old vampire flinching alone was worth the price of admission."

  "Be nice," Savannah said icily. "I'm sorry, my Lord Delancaster. My supplicant here interrupted the Lady Darkrose and me during our play."

  Lord Delancaster looked at me.

  I've heard you're not supposed to look vampires in the eyes, but I've never had any patience for that, so I just stared straight back at him. His eyes were fine amber; they would probably glow gold if he exerted his power, giving me a chance to flinch if I needed to; but apparently he had far too much control for that. "You must be Miss Frost," he said. "The young lady who almost kept my Lady Saffron from me."

  "The one and only," I said, tilting my head. I had a whole list of other things I had always wanted to say to the bloodsucker who stole Savannah from me, but I gritted my teeth and kept it to, "Best magical tattooist in the Southeast."

  But Delancaster caught some of what I had not said from the look in my eyes. "You have a fire in you," he said. "I can see why she nearly turned down my offer of eternal life-"

  "You don't have that to offer," Savannah said coldly.

  "Bodily immortality, if you prefer," the Lord Delancaster said, bowing. "Or agelessness. I meant no offense to your religious beliefs-"

  "Fine, fine, fine," I said, before he could get Savannah started on that again. "We're all one big happy vampire family, respecting each other's beliefs, and even managing to pretend Doug's whing-whang isn't hanging out. All that still leaves me wearing this stupid collar just so I don't have to worry about other vampires gnawing on me while I go consult with a graphomancer they're guarding. So whatever you're here to do, let's do it, so I can get on with it. I am on the clock."

  Lord Delancaster looked at me, face oddly blank. "Very well," he said, his mask of humanity seeming to filter away, leaving something cold, ancient and impersonal. "Please tell me this one is willing to give blood-"

  "No, and no on other bodily fluids," I snapped.

  He looked at Savannah, humanity flooding back into his features. "Then how is this going to work-"

  "We're going to use a finger stick," she said, stepping behind the wet bar.

  "Of course," Lord Delancaster said, tapping his fingers to his forehead. "This is the twenty-first century. But that will only grant a partial protection. I will still need to taste-"

  "No," I repeated.

  "Your aura," he said pointedly. "Your aura will do-"

  "And what precisely is the purpose of this?" I asked. "Why isn't the collar enough protection? Can't you just use your vampire telepathy to put out the word-"

  "Vampire… telepathy?" Lord Delancaster said, puzzled.

  "You can't fool me," I said. "She summoned you without ever leaving her chair."

  "I called him from the bedroom," Doug said. "He has a cell phone."

  "To answer your question, my Lady Frost," Lord Delancaster said, "While many of us in the vampire community desire to be a part of the normal human world, others do not. When you asked for our protection, you called on much older rituals. In the olden days, if you had asked for our protection, I would have drunk your blood, tasted your flesh and bathed in your aura, and then, if you were attacked, even if the body were well hidden, I and the other close members of my court could sense your blood in his veins and scent out whether he'd despoiled you."

  "So drink my blood and you're a walking vampire crime lab," I said. "Neat. Let's call CBS and see if they're interested in doing CSI: Vampire Atlanta."

  "I like that," Lord Delancaster said. "That's more appropriate than you know. With the finger stick, I no longer need to drink your blood, and with modern rape kits, we were already considering phasing out the tasting part of the ritual. But there was another purpose to the tasting; the fluids your body produces are charged with your life force and transmit the essence of your aura. A drop of blood from a wound won't do it. If I cannot bite you or taste you, I will still need to feel your aura."

  "What's that going to involve?" I asked, trying to keep contact with his tiger eyes and glancing away, nervous. Savannah came out from behind the wetbar with a small medical kit. She sat herself down on a barstool and patted for me to join her. As I did so, Lord Delancaster came to stand behind me, placing his hands gently on my shoulders. I looked sideways at them, swallowing: his fingernails were long and sharp, like claws.

  Savannah pulled out a small orange piece of plastic and grabbed my hand. Actually she didn't grab it, she just took it gently. But her grip was like steel, completely unyielding, and I bucked uselessly. "Hey, wait-"

  "I don't want to lick a slide," Delancaster said.

  "Doug, fetch us a spoon," Savannah said, matter-of-fact, holding the orange thing over my finger and preparing to jab. I tried to twist away, but her grip tightened. "Hold still."

  "You're hurting me," I said. "And not the right, it's my tattooing hand."

  "My Lady Savannah," Lord Delancaster breathed, voice so close to my ear that I felt my heart flutter. "Be nice."

  Savannah glared at me, then her eyes flicked aside to Lord Delancaster. Finally she let go my hand. "I'm sorry. But if you want our protection we do need to do this."

  Lord Delancaster's breath was warm and alive in my ear, and I could feel his power prickling over my skin. "O-okay," I said, holding out my left hand.

  Savannah took it, pricked my forefinger quickly, and squeezed slightly. A dark, red drop of blood welled up, and her lips parted with a small sigh like a little orgasm. Mesmerized, she took the spoon from Doug like a sleepwalker, squeezing my finger gently to release the flow of blood. She looked up at me, squirming on the seat, eyes filled with as much lust for my blood as she had ever had for my naked body-and then Lord Delancaster's lips brushed my throat.

  "I will not break the skin," he said, breath spreading across my neck, deep voice thrilling through me down to my very toes. "I promise."

  "O-okay," I repeated dreamily, leaning back against his hard body, slipping my thumb into the buckle of my belt, letting my fingers play over the buttons of my pants as Savannah drained more blood into the spoon. Now I wished I had taken her up on her offer to strip; this was so intimate, so erotic that all my clothing, my armor seemed… inappropriate.

  His lips parted, and I felt the side of his fangs pressed against my jugular, just above the collar. My blood pounded in my ears, thrummed though my neck, and I felt a warm, distant drumbeat echoing across the magical ink woven through my tattoos-Lord Delancaster's heart. The drumbeat grew louder and louder, and I squirmed on the seat, sinking back against him, curling my toes. A new drumbeat joined the jungle rhythm, one I instinctively recognized as Savannah's; and I opened my eyes to see Savannah's slender extended arm, and Lord
Delancaster draw his lips aside from my neck to drink the blood from her proffered spoon.

  The silvery spoon drew back from his lips, and Delancaster closed his eyes in bliss. Apparently chocolate ice cream had nothing on blood. Then Delancaster leaned away. "I have her pulse," he said. "Yes, I have it."

  I looked down sharply, clearing my head. Savannah, looking as sad as a cat whose food bowl had been swiped away, held a white cotton ball over my finger, and was unsuccessfully trying to unwrap a Band-Aid with her other hand. "Doug, a hand here."

  "Whoa," I said. My forehead was feverish, and I felt sweaty.

  "I have tasted your aura, drunk your blood, felt the beat of your heart," Lord Delancaster said, stepping back to the center of the room. "If any vampire I meet has drunk your blood, or taken your life, I will know it. In honesty, I will very likely know if they were to spoil you. I will make this known that you have the protection of the House of Saffron, but the ban of the Lord of Georgia as well."

  "Swell," I said, a bit woozy. I shook my head, and the room swam. "Swell."

  "Before I return to my Halloween party," Lord Delancaster said, stepping back to retrieve his cane, "is there anything else you want to protect?"

  "Isn't my blood, my life and my sex enough?" I asked. I took a deep breath, tried to get a grip on myself. He hadn't even broken the skin, and I'd damn near had an orgasm-no wonder mortals got so easily seduced by vampires. "Seems, ah, seems pretty comprehensive-"

  "What if they decided to take their anger out on one of your friends?" he said, and I swallowed, pulling at the collar. "Or did something as childish as trashing your car? I'm sorry, but immature vampires can be petty… and creative. We do need to be specific."

  "A young witch recommended this to me," I said. The sudden surge of adrenaline was doing a better job of clearing my head than my own efforts had. "Skye 'Jinx' Anderson. And I drive a POS Vespa, but I don't want that trashed either."

  "I don't know all modern car makes," he said. "Is POS the model number or-"

  "Piece of Shit," I said, "and it's a scooter, license plate

  MAGTAT."