by Kailin Gow
She tried to hide it, but it was too late. A rosy blush spread over her features, and she gave Stuart a look filled with such longing that she could not even bear to hide her thoughts from him. She could feel his mind reaching into hers, anxious for telepathy.
Do you feel that?
They’re all staring at you, he responded. All the other guests here. Hollywood actresses – princesses from Monaco. All of them – jealous because they’re not as beautiful as you.
It’s not that.
No, it isn’t. The dress is beautiful. Your body is sublime. Your face…ethereal. But you’re exuding a kind of magnetism I’ve only even seen vampires use before. Powers of seduction beyond any human’s wildest dreams. They’ll all want you – every last one. And I’m no exception.
He stepped in closer, and the intoxicating scent of his blood was overwhelming. She put out a hand to steady herself, her fingers connecting with his warm, taut flesh.
“Oh, Stuart,” she whispered.
“Shall we go into dinner?” His eyes were dark and smoldering with desire. “Or do you prefer to go upstairs – order room service instead?” A slow, sultry smile spread across his face. His hands were tight and rough upon her waist.
“But Justin’s already…” she protested weakly. “We can’t just leave him there.”
“Oh yes we can,” Stuart said. “I know that look in your eyes, and I’ll be damned if I let it pass without doing something about it. I don’t know when you’ll look like that at me again – I never know with you. You’re a beautiful changeling, always so enigmatic, always changing your mind. Well, this time you won’t change it. This time I want you and you want me, and I’m going to have you if it’s the last thing I do.”
And then they were kissing, Kalina luxuriating in her hunger for him as their lips met and fumbled for each other in their lusty starvation. Her desire was warm and dark and overtaking her; she wanted his blood, his flesh, all of him – she wanted to possess him fully, to make him hers, to make him only hers. This was not the desire she had known as a mere human – the simple hormonal flush that had made her cheeks turn petal-pink with longing. No, this was something else – something deeper – a side effect of the turn her Life’s Blood had taken. This was a desire so deep that it had become a desperate need: she needed to feed upon him, to own him, to will him to do her bidding and give her that pleasure she had too long been waiting for...
And then they were in her room, pressed up against the stone walls, down on the warm carpet before the fire, her skin naked against the bearskin as she let him remove her dress, tearing the delicate peace lace. She tore his cashmere sweater from him, thrusting it from her, wanting nothing more than to press her face into his warmth, his sweat, the sheer virile manliness of him. She was so cold – so pale and so cold – and she wanted his blood to heat hers, his life to give life to hers…
They were all-but-naked, writhing, and ecstatic. He kissed the straps of her bra, slipping them from her shoulders, fingering their delicate black lace. She wanted him – she knew it now, with a knowledge deeper than any rationality or reason – she wanted him with the full-force hunger of her blood. It called to her; it directed her – it made her the slave of these veins, these arteries, this pump and pulse of desire. She was so close to surrendering, so close to making him surrender to her.
And then there came a knock at the door.
Immediately, deflated, Kalina lay back upon the rug, the spell broken. Suddenly her self-control came back to her, the hunger-spell that had been cast upon her slowly dissolving into nothingness. What had she been about to do? She had been so close? Her body still ached with longing as she slipped on her dressing gown – Stuart’s eyes burning with need as he watched her slip the black silk around her shoulders – and opened the door. “Room service?” she began, rolling her eyes. “You can really come back later; we’re perfectly happy to…”
She stopped short, clapping a hand on her mouth.
There, standing before her, was Molotov, rage sparkling in his cold, glimmering eyes. And standing with him, kicking uselessly as Molotov clutched him by the throat, slowly squeezing out the last traces of vitality, was Justin.
Chapter 5
“What are you doing here…” Kalina started shaking, fumbling in the folds of her dressing gown for the stake she had hidden there, the rubies she had been given in the mountains of Mongolia now firmly encrusted around the stake’s edge. Stuart too had leaped to his feet, a stake in hand as he rushed to the threshold.
“You let him go right now!”
But Molotov only pushed his way into the room, keeping his back to the wall as he held Justin – still writhing and coughing out what screams he could from the choke-hold – up against his front.
“You think I’m afraid of those stakes?” Molotov gave them a sardonic smile. “I doubt you’ll try to stake me, girl. After all, I’m using your precious brother here as a human shield. Stake me, and his soft human heart will turn to jelly at the stake’s end long before it even touches my flesh. I know I almost killed him once before – I can still taste him. And he was delectable. Almost as delectable, as you!”
Justin coughed and spluttered out his words. “Please, Kalina, just do it! Don’t let him hurt you…”
“I saw your face the last time your darling brother nearly expired in front of you. You looked so crushed, so heartbroken. It warmed me to see you thus. Perhaps we should repeat the incident – without the deus ex machina coming in to save your dear brother at the end. After all I haven’t fed for a few days. And we ancient ones do tend to get so terribly cranky when we are forced to go unfed for a while. We may not require blood with the same furiousness as the younger vampires in our midst – but when there is fresh blood to be had…”
Molotov grinned, revealing yellowed, blood-stained teeth.
“I would not refuse such an offer – especially when it comes with the prospect of causing you such exquisite pain.”
Kalina’s heart began to pound faster. All the ruby-lined stakes in the world would do no good, she knew, if she couldn’t save Justin. Had Molotov really outsmarted them again? Even if she could match him physically – which she wasn’t altogether sure she could – she was still no match for his centuries of experience. He had strategized on many more battlefields than she had – and he had won all his battles. She gulped as she stared into Molotov’s cold, unblinking eyes.
“Please let him go,” she whispered, her voice quivering. She had almost lost Justin once, and it had nearly killed her. She knew she couldn’t bear to go through all that again.
Molotov picked Justin up by the neck as easily as if Justin had been a rag doll. Kalina winced as she heard the crack of bone. If Molotov had wanted to, it would have been so easy for him to snap Justin’s neck in two right then and there. She shuddered.
“Please,” she whispered. “Not my brother.”
“I’d consider letting him go,” Molotov began smoothly. “Only…”
“Only what!” Stuart stepped forward, his broad chest still rippling with muscles in the firelight. “What do you want from her?”
“Stuart, get back!” Kalina cried. Now that Stuart was human, she knew he wouldn’t be able to protect her or Justin. She’d have to protect herself.
“Only you have taken so much from me already. You and your precious lover Octavius, your whore of a mother – you have taken so much of what was mine. My men. My village in Mongolia, from which I drew my feeding stock. My offspring Mal, and with it the knowledge of what he has done with the Carriers I invested so much time, so much money, so many men to find…”
“Justin has nothing to do with this battle!” Stuart shouted. “He is innocent. Let him go. Your quarrel is with us, not with him.”
“How sweet,” Molotov said in false honeyed tones. “You wish to save your whore’s brother. Well, I am far from impressed.” He spat upon the ground. “It is disgusting – you and your brother both. In love with your maker’s lover. She
belongs to him – he has marked her – can you not see it? It is against the laws of nature for an offspring to mate with the love of his sire – it is disgusting, against all law of vampire honor. But you and your brother are no better than beasts. Than humans! And you claim to know what innocence means. You know nothing of innocence, my dear Stuart. You, who once spread fear into the hearts of men and women, terror into the nightmares of children, when you were the Dark Knight. Then you knew what it was to be a vampire. Then you would have been useful to me. I could have rebuilt my army from vampires like who you were then. I could have peopled my crowd of minions with your sword. But instead, like the pitiful fool you are, you let your human-loving ways taint the purity of your vampire blood, and now you have paid the price. What are you now but a weak, sniveling human…?”
Kalina stepped in front of Stuart, placing her body between his and Molotov’s. Justin might be a shield in front of Molotov, but she would shield Stuart in her turn.
“No, I can think of a worse punishment than death...” Molotov spat. In a flash he had bitten into his own wrist, blood gushing forth from the wound. He placed his bleeding flesh upon Justin’s mouth, forcing mouthfuls of blood down his throat. It took a moment before Kalina realized what Molotov was about to do…
“Justin, no!” she cried, but it was too late. Justin had drunk vampire blood. And that meant…
In a flash Molotov snapped Justin’s neck, the crunch of bone echoing throughout the room, sending Kalina’s blood running cold. Justin’s face went white; his eyes rolled back into his head. He slumped over, dead.
“No!” Kalina screamed, tears coming to her eyes. “No!” She rushed forward, her stake in hand, ready to plunge it deep into Molotov’s chest. But Molotov was too quick for her. He was already halfway across the room, picking up Stuart, his fangs bared, his wound still ripe for feeding.
Ready to try to turn him, too.
Kalina rushed over to Justin, but she knew with a sinking feeling nothing could be done. Justin had no pulse. And he had drunk vampire blood. That meant only one thing. He was going to turn – and turn he would, with Molotov as his master…
Adrenaline coursed through her, along with a rage so great she could hardly bear it.
“Kalina, help!” Stuart was fending of Molotov with a broken chair, but Molotov was far stronger than he. “Use the stake!”
Kalina rushed forth, but Molotov stopped her, his hand easily finding her neck.
“This is my lucky day,” Molotov sneered, holding her in one hand and Stuart in the other, effortlessly incapacitating both of them at once. “Three conquests in one day. Two new minions to call my own – and a girl who might have so many other uses. Uses I can only begin to think of sampling…”
Tears were streaming down Kalina’s face as she thought of Justin, lying dead upon the floor. It didn’t matter, she thought – she didn’t mind dying, now. She couldn’t live without Justin, without her big brother – she didn’t want to live at all…
She closed her eyes.
“Not if we can help it!” Kalina’s eyes flew back open as she looked to the owner of that familiar voice.
A voice that gave her hope.
Octavius and Max strode through the doorway.
Chapter 6
Kalina’s heart was pounding fast. Seeing Octavius still made her tingle – even in the midst of her fear, her sadness, being with him was the only thing she wanted. Her body arched towards him; the hairs on the back of her neck prickled. She could not let herself think about Justin – not now – she had to block it out, block out the pain. She closed her eyes and let Octavius’ presence waft over her like some intoxicating scent, filling the empty spaces within her heart. He had come to save her! Her heart leaped. He had come for her, as he had promised – he would always be there for her – he loved her…
“Octavius,” she whispered, looking up at him, wriggling against Molotov’s iron grip. She could see him turn his dark eyes towards her, his gaze so full of love, of desire, his countenance frozen in fear not for his own life; for he knew that he could easily fight off Molotov, but for hers. In that instance, Octavius betrayed to Kalina all he felt. He could not push her away – he could not pretend he did not love her. His love was plain on his face, made visible by his fear for her.
I’ll never doubt him again, Kalina thought, tears coming to her eyes as Molotov tightened his grip on her neck and lifted her higher into the air. She struggled, but it was to no avail. Her neck only bruised beneath the force.
“I’m glad you’ve arrived, Octavius,” Molotov was saying with a sneer. “It means you’ve come in time to see this!”
“No!” Octavius’ booming voice echoed around the chamber, but it was too late. Molotov was too quick for them. In an instant, he had pulled Kalina’s neck to his mouth and sunk his fangs deep into her throat.
It was a sort of release, Kalina thought dreamily. Never before had she been attacked so viciously – never before had she been attacked with such an immediate attempt to drain and kill her. From the moment Molotov’s fangs were within her bloodstream, she stopped struggling. She was paralyzed – sleepy, even. As if something soft and somnolent had been swaddled around her – as if she had bathed in a hot bath and drunk a nice glass of warm milk. Yes, she thought – it was just like resting. And how easy it was to rest. Especially when she was so tired. Her eyes half-closed; her neck lolled back. Why, dying wasn’t so bad, she thought limply. She had been so afraid of it, and here she was, dying as if it was nothing at all! Now she understood how easy it was to be drained – why so many women ached to be bitten by vampires. It wasn’t a bad feeling at all. Only a strange one – a pleasant paralysis, like what a fly must feel when caught in the web of a particularly benevolent spider.
She began to lose consciousness, her awareness of herself rapidly decreasing. Soon, she was thinking only of Octavius – his face was the last thing she saw as she lost consciousness. His kind, beautiful face – like marble or lime – chiseled out of the stones of Olympos themselves. His anguished stare at her – his eyes wide open – his love.
So, he really does love me, Kalina thought sleepily as she passed out.
As she lost consciousness, Octavius and Max let out twin wails of agony, rushing forth with their stakes in hand.
“You let her go!” Max roared, her small body taking on all the power and swagger of a brave lioness. “You don’t dare touch my daughter.” She raised her stake and threw it directly at Molotov’s face.
It missed, but only by a hair, and Molotov let out a scream as the ruby-lined stake cut through his right cheek.
Now it was Octavius’ turn to raise his stake and attack.
Immediately Molotov was on the defensive, keeping Kalina in his teeth like a dog holding onto a rag toy as he dodged Octavius. Octavius threw another stake, and this time the stake flew true, hitting Molotov in the back just as Molotov flew through the open window. Another stake flew through the window, missing Kalina by near inches.
But Molotov knew he could not carry her and escape freely at the same time. With a roar of defiance, he let Kalina fall, flying off into the night more swiftly for her lack of weight.
And then she was falling – falling down the cliff-side, faster and faster. She came in and out of consciousness, aware only of the bitter cold of the outside world, of the snow cutting against her cheeks, of the chill, of how fast she was falling towards the earth. Was she dying? Was she dead? Justin was dead – she would not live without him. She could not live without him.
She closed her eyes once more, bracing for impact. Not long now – she wouldn’t feel a thing…she would be brave…she wouldn’t be afraid.
And then she heard a swish of air alongside her, heard the parachuting swoop of a cape. Strong, muscular arms were around her, arms that gave her strength, gave her a faint warm glow. Arms that pressed her against a broad chest that smelled of musk and night.
“What’s going on?” Kalina murmured, no voice escaping her
soft and now-bloodless lips.
But she wasn’t falling any longer. Instead, she was flying upwards, soaring into the sky, held ever tighter by those pair of arms that clutched her as if she was the most precious thing in the world. She looked up, a faint smile spreading across her lips. The figure holding her so tightly, gripping her as if he would never let her go, was Octavius. His eyes were moist with unshed tears, and his face was full of longing for her. He was cradling her with such gentleness, even as the tightness of his grip left faint bruises on her skin. His face was looking down into hers, love shining through his eyes. Immediately Kalina felt safe. Warm. Protected. Somewhere out there, terrible things were happening: Justin was lying dead on the floor of the Au Berge before a blazing fire, Carriers were starving to death inside a hidden compound, but these things all seemed so very far away now. Kalina was with him – they were together – she was safe. She was loved.
“Octavius,” she whispered softly. “What happened? I was falling.” She was shaking from the cold, from the lack of blood.
“I caught you,” his lips nudged against her ear, brushing it lightly and sending a shiver down her spine. “I’ll always catch you, Kalina.”
“But we were so high up…I fell so far…” She opened her eyes, dizzy as she looked about herself. They were surrounded by snow – snowflakes that glimmered in the full moonlight.
“Before you hit the ground, I caught you.” He nuzzled her gently, pressing his lips to her dark, shining hair. Small flecks of snow were caught between the fine, silky strands – like a crown of stars in a dark night sky.
“Where are we?” They were at the bottom of an enormous mountain whose peak stretched all the way into, it seemed, the clouds.
“The hotel was at the top of this mountain,” said Octavius. “We’re all the way at the bottom.”
Kalina shivered, but she didn’t feel cold. How could she feel anything but safe when Octavius was around? He sat beneath a tall pine tree, pulling her into his lap. Kalina nuzzled into him, feeling his soft cashmere sweater against her skin.
