The Font

by Tracy St. John

  Elisha was aroused beyond conscience as he fed on the delicious woman beneath him. Seeing her nude, lissome body on full display had been like a thunderbolt to his senses. Now the scent of her female musk, added to the richness of the blood he pulled into his hungry mouth made him crazed with lust. His hand went to Naya’s sex, and he groaned and growled all at once to find her wet. Despite the hold he had on her mind, she parted her legs, inviting further exploration.

  He had no intention of warming his fingers inside her. Instead, he yanked mercilessly at the closure of his jeans, freeing himself. With a desperation he hadn’t felt in decades, Elisha sank into her with a moan.

  Warmth surrounded him, making his balls ache agreeably. He dove deeper still, wanting to enclose himself in that sweetness, that tight yet yielding sheath, immersing himself in the goodness that was woman. Even the thick honey of her blood paled in comparison to this all-consuming bliss.

  Elisha felt the momentary resistance an instant before he broke through. His civilized mind returned in a rush. Gasping, he relinquished his hold on Naya’s throat to rear up and stare at her. Her expression was mostly euphoric from his glamour, but he saw the tension between her eyebrows.

  She was a virgin. Or had been, until Elisha’s desire had taken her purity away. Heriolf had not claimed her, as everyone was sure he had.

  Guilt cooled Elisha’s ardor somewhat, though his penis still throbbed with want. He’d never taken a woman sexually without her express consent before. But she had invited him in, hadn’t she? He’d not commanded her to open her legs to him. Indeed, his control over her mind should have left her frozen, moving only at his dictates. Somehow she had kept some semblance of personal power and had made her wants known.

  Still, Elisha felt shame. He had only ever used his power to take blood. His first feed of the night was always male, so that he wouldn’t be tempted to take what he shouldn’t. Vampires often lost control of their sexual urges when they first rose, too hungry to think clearly. Thaddeus had taught Elisha well so that only the veins of a victim were violated.

  But after over two centuries, Elisha’s control had slipped. Conscience was like a sledgehammer. How had this happened? Was her blood that potent that it removed decency along with the hunger?

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t know,” he whispered to her.

  She didn’t answer, only looked at him. Her tight sleeve flexed around him, driving him to want to take her more than ever.

  Elisha remembered he had placed her under a compulsion of silence. She couldn’t curse him or tell him to halt. Mortified by his body’s continued urgings to declare satisfaction with the helpless girl, he began to withdraw. “I will stop. I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

  He was stunned to see her shake her head. Shocked even more to feel her hips move, reclaiming his manhood with her slippery tightness, driving him into her once again.

  “Are you sure?” he gasped, reason sliding away as she imprisoned him fully. Her head jerked in a quick nod, and Elisha was lost.

  He took control, pushing in and out of his captive’s sweetness with a pace that drove him steadily towards the pinnacle of elation. Naya’s breath quickened, grew heavier as he moved within her. The blood continued to flow from his bite, and seeing that scarlet nectar running down her neck brought Elisha’s hunger back in a rage. He closed his lips around the two small punctures and drew on her even as he plunged his hips against hers. The blood was an elixir of unparalleled delectability, richer than any he’d ever tasted before.

  He spiraled upwards towards climax, lifted by the combined delights of blood and sex.

  * * * *

  Naya had never felt anything so glorious in her short life. The vampire’s mouth latched on her, feeding from her, making everything hazy and dreamlike. His body was heavy on hers, solid contact with his strength. And that sensation of being filled with another over and over, bringing things alight, making her lower body clench in growing pleasure, was beyond amazing. The brief flash of pain as he’d breached her virgin barrier was already forgotten in this swirl of gut-wrenching bliss.

  As the dark, beautiful fiend thrust deeply into her, she let her fingertips drift over his ribcage, up to his shoulders, feeling the wiry muscle beneath his shirt. She wished he was as naked as she so that she could experience his skin against hers. It was the only thing lacking in this unexpected attack.

  She wasn’t sure what had made her open in invitation to him. He hadn’t commanded it. He’d initially seemed content with simply touching her with his hands. But something about the eagerness in his eyes, the feeling of him straining his clothes in want of her, and the melting exploration of his fingers on her had dashed sensible fear away. The deep craving drove her to make her wordless plea for his invasion.

  Naya had dreaded lying with a man, having only seen the deprivations of Heriolf’s vampires when they raped and consumed their victims. But this … this was an ecstasy of the body to be joined with another. That her attacker had expressed contrition for his overwhelming lust and the stealing of her maidenhead let her know he was not the brute she was used to seeing.

  The friction of his flesh plying hers incited not just that heavy feeling of growing brightness, but also small, quick darts of pure stomach-twisting delight. Her hips were moving against his now, forcing him in deeper, as deep as he could plunge. She made little sounds of breathless encouragement as his glamour faded and she could vocalize again.

  Naya didn’t call for help. She knew she was being stupid. This vampire had forced himself on her, had drank of her blood, was even now still licking the wounds he’d made with the slow satisfaction of a cat tasting a few drops of cream. But inside, she was winding up tight, her guts coiling in on themselves as pleasure grew larger and larger, so large she didn’t know how she could contain it in her slender form. And the vampire who made her feel so good was drumming faster than ever against her, breathless moans emitting from his lips stained red with her blood.

  A shivering spasm seized her where their bodies met, and Naya gasped. Another miniature explosion rocketed from her sex up her spine. She made a high, warbling sound, and the vampire answered her with a groan. The look on his strong jawed face hovering above hers was euphoric and tense all at the same time. He was perhaps the most handsome man she’d ever seen, especially with that expression of need on the brink of realization etched on his well-formed features.

  Another jagged bolt from her nether parts, and then something mighty and huge ballooned all at once within her. Naya’s mouth opened wide with the force of it, but the sensation’s monstrous proportions choked off the cry she strained to make. Then it broke open, spilling blinding whiteness and excruciating rapture all over.

  The billowing feeling of pure physical joy inflated her womanhood again. Once more lightning washed throughout her quaking body. Now she was making sounds, high weak singsongs of a bird greeting the sunrise. She rose and fell, rose and fell on the cresting waves of a marvel she’d never imagined possible.

  The vampire emitted a long groan that he seemed to drag up from his toes. He shuddered, and Naya felt his sex jerk deep inside her, feeding her his ecstasy. His hips lost their rhythm, and at last stilled entirely. He sank down, covering her with the weight of his body.

  As convulsions continued to shudder through her womb, Naya clutched her unexpected lover close. She didn’t care that if Heriolf come into the room right now he’d kill not just her attacker but probably her, his intended bride, as well. She also didn’t care that she didn’t know who this stranger was or what plans he had for her. Had he ripped her throat out and left her to die right now, she would succumb without regret.

  * * * *

  Elisha felt both energized and weak all at once. Powerful from the richness of Naya’s blood, its strength singing through his body, making him feel as if he could have clawed down the stone walls of Heriolf’s mansion with his bare hands. Weak from the aftermath of a climax that seemed to pore from every cell of his body,
wringing him like a limp towel to sag almost bonelessly over his captive.

  Sweeter still was her vital warmth that seemed to creep into his own long-dead body, infusing it with a semblance of the life he’d once known. Joining the verve of her singular blood and the relaxation of sensual fulfillment was a peace he hadn’t experienced in a very long time.

  Elisha might have lain on top of her for hours had the murmurs not bled into his mind. It was as if he could hear distant conversations without quite making out the words. But he knew the voices, recognized them as two of his co-conspirators. They were drawing near, and he could feel the sudden attention of two others … the guards at Naya’s door.

  He had no time to be amazed at the ability to sense his fellow vampires. Elisha threw off the gentle complacency that was the aftermath of astounding sex and rose up to look Naya in the eyes.

  “You will lie here without moving. You will remain completely silent,” he commanded her. Her gaze, which had sharpened since he first used his glamour on her, went soft and dazed again.

  Confident in his control over her, Elisha left her lying on the bed. He tucked himself back into his jeans and zippered up. He crept soundlessly to the door, feeling his calculating companions draw near and the sharp alertness of the guards

  On the other side of the closed door, a deep voice rose in challenge. “No one is allowed in the private chambers.”

  The conversation was over immediately. There was a thump that shook the wall as the conspirators attacked the guards. Elisha threw the door open. One of the guards along with Carlos, a fellow Heriolf-hater, fell into the room.

  The knife Elisha kept hidden beneath his untucked shirt was unsheathed in an instant. The next second he separated the guard’s head from his body with a powerful slice that left Elisha gasping in amazement. Naya’s blood was potent indeed, giving Elisha such strength after only one feeding that he and Carlos wasted several seconds staring at each other in shock.

  They shook themselves and attended to the remaining guard, locked in hand-to-hand combat with another cloaked vampire named Benjamin. Moments later, the second guard’s head was severed too, his big, blocky body thumping to the wood flooring.

  All three conspirators stood silently, listening to the raucous sounds downstairs of the continued celebration. There was no sign anyone had heard the fighting.

  “You have confirmed the power of her blood,” Carlos said, staring over Elisha’s shoulder at the small form behind the bed’s drapery as he handed him a black cloak like the ones he and Benjamin wore. It was not a question.

  “Go and open the window. I will dress her and we will make our escape.” Elisha put the concealing garment on as he went to the armoire. While the other two opened the large window, he pulled a sea-blue dress out. He hurried to the bed. Keeping the curtain pulled enough to offer some concealment from his co-conspirators, he started to shove the glazed-eyed Naya into the gown, and then checked himself. He had much more strength than he was used to. He reminded himself to take care as he dressed her.

  Elisha went back to the armoire and found a long, warm coat for Naya as well. Heat and cold had no effect on him, but while stalking his meals Elisha had noted humans bundling up lately, especially at night. He was pleased to see the coat was black, which would help to keep the Font invisible in the night.

  Ballet-styled slippers went on her feet, and he lifted her insubstantial weight in his arms. Did he detect a note of fear in her forest green eyes? Could she actually have the ability to slip his control?

  There was no time to worry with such things, but in case the woman was coming out of her trance, Elisha attempted to soothe her. “Do as you’re told, and you won’t be harmed.”

  It was probably a lie. Naya was perhaps the greatest danger to vampire kind, making her life forfeit. But he’d think about that later. For now, escape before Heriolf discovered his precious Font had been taken was paramount.

  Elisha carried her to his waiting co-conspirators. “Let’s go.”

  Like wraiths they flitted out of the window into the night, their path already cleared by their fellow rebels.

  * * * *

  The scent of fresh blood lay like a blanket over the hall. Heriolf hadn’t bothered putting his victim under glamour, and she sobbed and screamed as he took her blood and his lustful pleasure with her helplessly bound body. The sounds of her misery made the taste and feel of her that much more gratifying. Demonstrating power, even over such a puny creature as this, was always a delight for the ancient warrior. In over a millennium of existence, it had yet to pale.

  The only thing that would have made it sweeter still was if it was Naya beneath him, begging him to stop as he drowned in her blood and sex. That the night he would enjoy such profound bliss was far into the future, if it ever happened at all, made him more brutal to his present victim. Her screams doubled.

  Naya would soon be his wife and he would have her body as well as her blood, but she had to be handled with care. Heriolf needed her compliance for as long as he could charm it from her. There were few of her kind left in the world, and he didn’t dare waste the power she gave him. She had to be guarded carefully and treated with tenderness he was incapable of feeling.

  He could hold her prisoner and take what he wanted as he had others in the past. But they had been quickly used up that way, committing suicide as soon as the opportunity presented itself. None of the Old People’s blood had lasted more than five years once they fell into Heriolf’s hands.

  Except Naya. He had made her think of him as a trusted guardian, her one and only friend in the whole world, the sole person who would keep her safe from all harm.

  The woman beneath him had started a choked gurgling sound that told Heriolf she was closing in on her end. He felt her pulse stagger as her heart lost its rhythm. His scrotum drew up tight to his body as the feeling of her dying brought familiar heavy heat to his groin. He was the master of death, bringing it upon any he wished. The ultimate power.

  Another wheeze. Her heart missed, picked up, missed again, and sluggishly beat once more. Almost dead. The pleasure in Heriolf’s lower parts coiled tight, on the verge of releasing that terrible, wonderful stream of passion. Almost…

  “My lord!” One of his guard’s cry cut through the roar of impending climax.

  Heriolf lifted his face from his meal’s throat and bared fangs at the wild-eyed vampire. Another thrust and he would be there. The tiniest waft of breath issued from the woman’s parted mouth. Her next to last. “Not now, damn you!”

  He bent back to the savaged flesh of his victim and lapped the bit of blood left. An almost silent sigh left her lax body, and it sent the stream of his fluids bursting free to fill her. Heriolf arched back to roar his victory, noting the final tear running from the young woman’s eye. One last twitch, and she was gone.

  “The Font, my lord! She has been taken!”

  The guard insisted on shouting, and it took a moment for the words to penetrate Heriolf’s orgasm- and blood-muddled mind. His cock was still convulsing when he finally understood the import of the other vampire’s words.

  He pulled free of the corpse and staggered to his feet. The guard reached out to steady him. Heriolf stared at him, trying to deny the man’s irrational outburst. “Not possible. No. I would feel it.”

  He searched his own head for his sense of Naya. He could feel her when she was near, the blood she gave him like an invisible path for him to follow. Her recent presence still burned in the room, shining bright next to his vacant throne, trailing out through the door nearby. He closed his eyes and continued up the stairs, down the second floor hall, to her room…

  …where an awful emptiness waited.

  The guard was frantic, as if still trying to make Heriolf understand. “I saw them take her! Three vampires with cloaks over their heads. They flew to the south, too quickly for us to follow. Four of our number are dead.”

  Terror and fury chase back Heriolf’s drunkenness. Wanting to kill som
eone, anyone, he yanked his clothing into place.

  He could start with the guard who’d brought him the news. Shut that yapping mouth permanently.

  Don’t panic. I still have the powers Naya’s blood grants me. I’ll maintain my supremacy over the others for what, five days? Isn’t that what the fool in the swamp told me? It’s enough time to find her and take her back.

  And then he would kill to his black heart’s content. He would kill in ways so heinous no one would ever dare to oppose him again.

  He bellowed though the hall had gone completely silent. His voice echoed through the room, and Heriolf found the smallest bit of gratification when everyone cringed. “Guards! Everyone to me.” As the surviving five members of his guard and his new aide Lyndon surrounded him, Heriolf said, “The Font has been stolen. Bar the doors and let no one leave. I will have the final deaths of all who have brought this upon me!”

  The guards rushed to slam the doors of the hall shut, but Heriolf saw there were far less vampires there than at the start of the ceremony. This was not the act of a few then. This was an actual uprising against him.

  “Anyone who dares to attempt escape will be staked and burned!” To one guard who returned to his side, Heriolf muttered, “Bring me each person present, one at a time. I will have their thoughts and discover who my enemies are.”

  As the guard grabbed the first vampire he came to, dragging the startled woman to cower at Heriolf’s feet, Savannah’s lord vowed to himself that if every last vampire in his kingdom had to suffer his final death, he would recover his Naya.

  Chapter 3

  Elisha flew through the night with a motionless Naya in his arms. He held her close, knowing the chill of the season might affect her despite the coat she wore. His companions had gone in different directions, to protect their minds from the knowledge of where she would be kept prisoner until the next night. If Heriolf caught them and read their minds, they would have no information he could use to track the Font.