BloodCon

by S. Coop

  That town seemed to be used to these attacks, so there had to be someone who knew something. Yan instantly came to Marcus’s mind, so he grabbed his revolver and headed to the tavern. He needed answers and he planned to get them by any means.

  “Welcome back, my friend,” Yan said as the heavy door shut behind Marcus.

  Marcus walked up to the bar and sat.

  “Only Rakija can take away the memories of a night like the other night, am I right, my friend?” Yan asked as he poured Marcus two shots.

  Marcus gave Yan a fake grin. “Of course.”

  “Saluda!” Yan cried.

  Marcus half lifted his glass and downed the Rakija. The rich liquid burned his throat and left a bitter taste in his mouth. A lot like this town. “This type of thing happens here a lot, does it not?” Marcus asked.

  Yan looked at Marcus and shrugged.

  Marcus laughed, trying to hide his frustration. “You’ve never heard of anyone getting attacked or anything? What about this Mita guy you were telling me about? Some are saying it was him that caused the stir.”

  “Ahh, yes. It’s just townsfolk being paranoid. I wouldn’t put too much faith in what they say.” He shrugged. “Probably just wild wolf. By the way, I haven’t seen your wife. You’re not going to leave town without letting me meet her are you?”

  Marcus cleared his throat. “She’s …” Not my wife and may never be my wife. “She’s … resting.”

  “Too much excitement, huh?” Yan asked. His smile faded as he stared at Marcus.

  Marcus could feel the cheerful nature of the air fade. He decided it was time to leave. Yan was of no use, and he had the sneaking suspicion that trying to make him talk wouldn’t work out well. He would have to find answers some other way. He downed the last glass of Rakija and dropped a gold coin on the counter.

  Yan looked at the coin. “On the house,” he said, shoving it back at Marcus.

  Marcus left the bar and headed back to the house. He remembered how greedy for gold Yan was when they first met. Now he was giving him drinks on the house? He could see the suspicion in Yan’s eyes and didn’t feel welcome there anymore.

  The door let out a familiar creak when Marcus opened it. He didn’t have to use the key Isabella gave him earlier that day, and he thought it odd that the doors were not locked yet. She was a stickler for time, and she religiously locked the doors at six p.m. sharp. He figured maybe Adrian had come to visit her and had forgotten to lock the door on his exit.

  Marcus stepped inside, and his foot splashed into a pool of liquid.

  Blood.

  He saw Sofia hunched over Isabella, violently attacking her. “Sofia, stop this!” Marcus ran over and grabbed her shoulder.

  Sofia turned around with animalistic rage in her eyes and jumped on Marcus, knocking him to the hardwood floor. She sank her teeth into him while he fiddled for the revolver he had in his pocket.

  “Sofia!” Marcus cried.

  Sofia stopped her assault and looked at Marcus holding his neck in terror. She watched him scoot away from her, pull out his revolver, and shakily aim it at her. The look in her eyes changed from violence and rage to remorse and shame. She stood and looked at the mayhem around her. Isabella’s body was on the floor with her head barely attached to her neck. Sofia looked at her own blood- soaked hands and shook her head in revulsion.

  “Marcus?” Sofia reached out to him.

  Marcus stood and took her quivering hand in his.

  “Oh my God, Marcus, what have I done? What has happened to me?”

  “You’ve … you’ve … changed,” Marcus replied.

  Sofia stared at Marcus just as a torches burst through the window.

  “They know. We have to get out of here!”

  Marcus grabbed Sofia’s hand, and they ran through heavy smoke out the back door. They disappeared into a heavily wooded area not far from the village. Sofia was quite a distance ahead of Marcus and looked as if she glided on air

  “Don’t stop, Sofia!” yelled Marcus.

  The voices of the villagers chasing them started to close in, but she did stop.

  “Sofia?” Marcus caught up to her.

  She turned, a wooden arrow sticking straight through her heart. “Marcus,” she whispered before collapsing.

  “Sofia!” Marcus screamed as he watched an avalanche of blood come out of her mouth.

  “Run!” she choked, just as Yan came out of the brush with a bow in his hand.

  Yan stood in front of Marcus with a cold expression on his face, “It’s for the best … my friend.”

  Marcus grabbed his revolver from his pocket, raised it in a blink, and with one shot took Yan between the eyes. “So is this,” he said in disgust while watching Yan’s body hit the ground with a loud thud.

  Marcus looked at Sofia. Her eyes had rolled into the back of her head and nothing but streams of blood remained in them. She was gone, forever, the love of his life. His only love was now gone, and the world no longer made any sense to him. He pulled the arrow out of her chest and straightened the gray blouse he had wanted to unbutton only days before.

  The villagers were nearly upon him, so he ran. Sofia would have wanted him to survive, and although he would have rather joined her in death, he honored her wish and continued. He stopped running at a cemetery and found a grave that had been dug up. He laid in it and covered himself with the available loose soil, hiding until the threat was gone. There he lay, wallowing in sorrow, his mind and body not connected in any way. Sofia, he thought, my Sofia …

  Marcus toyed with the knickknacks on his desk. That day had changed him forever. It had hardened him to a point he thought he could never recover from. As a newborn vampire, he had to raise himself. Mita certainly didn’t give a shit about him. It wasn’t easy, but he managed until he found others like him who taught him what they could. Making a vampire was serious business. and in his eyes, not everyone was fit to be a Maker. Morgan had no business doing what she did. He twirled around in his seat when there was a knock on the door.

  “You may enter,” Marcus said.

  “You sent for me?”

  “Yes, I did. There is a situation that has every bit to do with you and with me.”

  “How so?”

  Marcus leaned back in his chair. “How about we start with the night we met …”

  

  Morgan made a beeline for the kitchen when they got home. She sat at the bar and wondered why she even had a kitchen in the first place. It’s not as if anyone really cooked or needed to eat. As she sat, Lasandro’s eyes were searing a hole through her skull and she knew why. She had acted like a fool over at Katya’s.

  He sat in the stool next to her. “You were jealous, weren’t you?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.” Morgan went to the fridge to grab some leftover animal blood. She poured a glass and walked to the table, avoiding his eyes.

  “Back to this again? What happened to us not keeping our feelings to ourselves?”

  Morgan sat the glass on the kitchen table and pulled out a chair. “Look, I just don’t trust Katya, that’s all.”

  “Well, you were the one who wanted to go over there. I think she gave us some good leads to go on. Now all we have to do is find the bastards and—”

  “Then what?” Morgan interrupted, “What happens after that? Do we kill them? Is that where this ends?”

  “Where is all this coming from? Of course we kill them! What did you think I was going to do? Invite them for dinner? Buy them drinks? Try to understand their side of the story? Really, Morgan? Is this really what’s on your mind … or is it that you’re jealous?”

  Morgan rolled her eyes. “I am not jealous.”

  “Sure you are,” Lasandro said. “Look at what you created. You have to get used to this kind of thing. I mean, who wouldn’t want me?” He threw her a toothy grin before blocking her swift right jab. He laughed. It amused him to ruffle her feathers. “Hey watch it now. You don’t want to mess up
my beautiful face, do you?”

  Morgan raised her hand and Lasandro grabbed it, pinning her against the kitchen wall. “Mmm, you’re so cute when you’re angry.” He claimed her mouth with his.

  They rapidly shed their clothes. Lasandro picked her up and placed her on the kitchen table. He parted her legs and hungrily took her sweet spot into his mouth, fervently sucking, tasting that familiar exquisite flavor he longed for all day. Her inhibitions had fallen again. They always did for him. He was a magician at breaking down her walls. Lasandro worked his tongue deeper while massaging her goose bump laden hips.

  He pulled himself up, trailing sweet kisses along her body. He looked into her eyes and once again took her lips with his. Their tongues darted back and forth, mimicking swordplay before he pulled her closer and used his hips to part her legs wider. He slowly entered her, feeling every inch of his throbbing rod get wrapped up in her warmth.

  She lifted her hips to accommodate him and her body flooded with adrenalin while their bodies rocked in unison.

  He grabbed her hips, rapidly thrusting, her moans playing like music to his ears. He gasped, feeling her nails digging into his chest, drawing blood.

  She sensually licked the wounds, carefully tending to each one.

  Waves of pleasure surged through him as he felt her clench him, amplifying his arousal. He knew she was close and so was he. He increased his speed, rocking the table as he moved inside of her. They both cried out, climaxing together, their fluids mixing, warming their insides.

  Lasandro kissed her lips, savoring every bit of her mouth. He picked up his queen and carried her to the bedroom, greedily stealing kisses on the way. For tonight, the rest would have to wait. He wasn’t done yet.

  No, he was only getting started.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Secrets

  Morgan woke and noticed Lasandro had already left the bed. She figured he was painting again. He had been painting a lot lately because painting relaxed him as music relaxed her. She knew he was desperate to find his mother’s killer, and that desperation gave him little rest.

  She wanted to forget how foolishly she behaved at Katya’s, but something about Katya bothered her she couldn’t figure out. Sure, she was a bit jealous of other women given their attention to Lasandro, but it veered more on the protective side. She was also experiencing an overwhelming feeling of loss, as if she had lost someone she loved dearly, but the person she loved and longed for in this world was Lasandro. And he was right there with me! How could I be longing for someone who was right beside me?

  She went to the art room but didn’t find Lasandro. His latest work-in-progress rested on an easel covered with a delicate, blue cloth. She wanted to remove the cloth. Surely he won’t mind if I take a peek. Just as she reached for it, Lasandro appeared behind her.

  “Hey, no peeking!” he said, smacking her backside.

  “I … I wasn’t. Okay, I was.”

  “Well, you don’t have to sneak, because it’s done, but since you want to see it so bad, I was thinking …”

  “Thinking what?” Morgan asked.

  “Well, what do I get if I show you?” Lasandro gave her a mischievous grin.

  Morgan raised her fist at him. “The question is what do you get if you don’t show me?”

  Lasandro threw his hands up in the air. “Okay, okay. Don’t want a repeat of last night. I know how diesel you get when you’re mad.” He removed the cloth. “Isn’t she beautiful?” He moved behind her and wrapped his hands around her waist.

  Morgan looked at an exquisitely detailed painting of a woman with long black hair, caramel-colored skin, and piercing blue eyes. “Is that your …”

  “Yes, that’s my mother,” Lasandro said. “I painted her exactly as she looked the day …”

  “She’s beautiful,” Morgan whispered.

  “She was beautiful,” he said, his voice cracking with emotion.

  Morgan could feel his cool breath when he brushed his lips across the back of her neck.

  “I say we have something special for breakfast,” Lasandro said. “Hmm, how about delicately sautéed animal blood with a side of vintage 1922 boxed animal blood?”

  “Mmm.” Morgan chuckled. “Sounds lovely, but please do pour my blood into a glass for I shan’t be drinking from that dreadful box.”

  “As you wish, my queen,” he said, dramatically bowing and backing out of the room.

  As Morgan studied the painting, she felt a burst of déjà vu. There was something familiar about Lasandro’s mother, but she could not put her finger on it. I think I’ve met her before, but where?

  “Breakfast is served, my queen!”

  She left the room still feeling on edge and wondering why she felt that way. As she descended the stairs, a floor of memories assaulted her like a bad movie.

  Oh … my … God!

  That night!

  Morgan’s legs turned to jelly, and she fell into the darkness …

  

  “Marcus, this is absurd. Haven’t you had enough of this already? I don’t want any part of it!”

  “Do not question me! You know as well as I do that I get what I want.” Marcus glared at Morgan, his eyes fierce and menacing.

  “Come on, sister dear,” Pony said. “Let’s make this a family affair!”

  “Marcus, you know we need to keep a low profile,” Morgan said. “The vampire community is starting to talk about these incidents.”

  “Let them talk, the bunch of children.” Marcus turned and looked through the window of the house, getting an eyeful of his prize.

  “I implore you, Marcus,” Morgan pleaded. “Stop this. We don’t have to do this.”

  “We are vampires, Morgan! This is what vampires do! We are at the top of the food chain! And we will continue doing this until you have learned that! Why is it always whining with you lately? You used to be much more fun. Why can’t you just enjoy the power we hold over these puny excuses for living creatures?”

  “No! I won’t allow you to—”

  “Allow me to what?” Marcus interrupted, slapping Morgan across the face. “You don’t allow anything. Remember, you are mine! Don’t you forget that! And don’t even think about leaving, because I command you to come with me!”

  

  Maria sat on the cold hardwood floor with tears in her eyes. Her husband had lost his temper again and hit her. Why do I take this abuse? I love him so much, but this is not something I want my Vinny to be around. Sure, Vincent is his father, but is that reason enough to stay with him?

  Maria grew up without a father, something she didn’t want for her son. If only he could change. If only—

  She heard a shuffling noise beside her.

  “Vinny?” She wiped her eyes and stood. “Oh my God!” She gasped in horror when she saw two strange creatures floating around her.

  “Hmm, not quite, but close,” Marcus quipped, flashing his fangs at her as his feet met the floor.

  “What … what do you want? Do you want the stereos? You can have them, just please leave us alone.”

  The terror in her voice aroused Marcus. He backed her up hard against the wall. “I cannot leave you alone.”

  “Please,” Maria begged. “Take what you want and go!”

  Marcus could see the fear in her eyes, could feel the terror in her soul. He knew he probably should have compelled her to keep her calm, but this was much more exciting for him. “There is only one thing I want, my sweet, and I will have it.”

  “Anything, just … take it and leave.” Maria took great care not to mention Vinny in the other room. As long as they didn’t know he was there, then he would be safe.

  “I’ve had my eye on you for quite some time. You are exquisite.” Marcus cocked his head back, lunged forward, and with a crushing force chomped down on her neck. Maria could barely let out a scream as Marcus began to drain her. Vigorously sucking on her neck, he reveled in how sweet and delicious she tasted. She tasted exactly how he h
ad imagined. He thought what a shame it was that there was only one of her.

  Pony waited anxiously behind him, smelling the sweet scent of Maria’s blood. “Let me have a taste.”

  Marcus dropped Maria’s body to the floor like an empty juice box, and she landed unconscious with a loud thump. Pity, Marcus thought. He preferred his meal to be awake and terrified. “Drink, my princess.” Marcus instructed Pony, and she willingly obliged. The two drank, violently draining nearly every ounce from Maria’s limp body.

  Pony sniffed the air. “The boy. I want him.”

  “As you wish.” Marcus waved her toward the bedroom where Vinny was sleeping. Pony raced toward the door—

  And ran into Morgan. “The boy is off-limits.”

  “Move it, sister!” Pony shouted.

  Morgan flashed her fangs. “No.”

  “Come on,” Pony whined. “His mother tasted so good, and you know that boy will taste ten times better.”

  “If you touch that boy, Pony, I will rip your throat out! You might be faster, but I am much stronger!”

  Pony stomped her feet in protest. “Daddy, sister’s not being fair! Tell her to let me in!”

  Marcus looked up briefly from his meal, his eyes blood red, his words slurred. “Always with the sibling rivalry. Morgan, let your sister have what she wants.”

  “No.” Morgan knew Marcus didn’t really care what she did now that he was drunk. “Once again, Pony, you touch him, you die. It’s that simple.”

  Pony turned back to the Maria to get another fix because she knew better than to go against Morgan without Marcus’s help. She hoped Marcus hadn’t completely drained the woman before she could get more.

  The front doorknob jiggled followed by a knock and a man’s voice. “Maria? Maria open up!”

  Maria regained consciousness and belted out a blood-curdling scream. “Vincent, help!”