Dark Blood

Home > Other > Dark Blood > Page 22
Dark Blood Page 22

by James M. Thompson


  “What are you talking about?” she asked, turning as the kettle began to whistle. She poured the boiling water over the tea bags she’d set in three cups. She handed two to TJ and Albert as she took one for herself, then sat at the large conference table in the corner of the room.

  Albert and TJ sat across from her. Albert took a sip of the tea and continued talking in a reasonable voice. “As TJ told you yesterday, some members of your Council have disregarded your edict forbidding lethal feedings. They have kidnapped and presumably killed over fifteen people in the last two weeks.”

  Carmilla nodded. “Yes, and I told TJ I was going to investigate her charges. Unfortunately, several of my Council members are out of town and I haven’t been able to speak to them yet.”

  “It’s gone far beyond that now, Carmilla,” Albert said, glancing at TJ. “This morning, Samantha Scott, one of the doctors working with us to perfect a cure for Vampyrism, was abducted.”

  “How do you know it was one of my friends?” Carmilla asked, peering at him over the rim of her cup as she drank.

  “A note was left indicating we should cease working on the formula until we hear from them, or Sam would be harmed.”

  Carmilla’s face fell. “He must be out of his mind,” she muttered, as if speaking her thoughts out loud.

  “Who is doing this, Carmilla?” TJ asked, leaning forward, her voice pleading. “We must know so we can save Sam.”

  Carmilla looked up at her, biting her lip as she decided whether to confide in them or not. “It must be Michael, Michael Morpheus,” she finally said. “He has been against my policy of nonlethal feeding from the start, but I never thought he’d go so far as to—”

  “Well, he has,” Albert interrupted. “But he can’t be acting alone. There have been too many murders for it to be the work of one Vampyre. He must have co-opted others on your Council to feed with him.”

  Carmilla slowly nodded. “Yes, I’ve had my suspicions,” she said in a low voice. “Sarah and Jean have both been acting nervous and anxious around me the last couple of days.”

  “Where can we find this Michael Morpheus?” TJ asked.

  Carmilla’s face paled and she held up her hand. “No, that is impossible. He would never speak to you.”

  “We plan to do more than speak to him,” Albert said in a menacing voice.

  Carmilla gave a weak grin, looking at Albert with appraising eyes. “He is a very powerful man, quite old,” she said. “He might be more than a match even for you, Albert.”

  She noticed her teacup was empty and got up to refill it. “No, I think it much better if I give Michael a call and try to reason with him. It will be safer for all of us.”

  “I think he is beyond reason,” Albert said. “To risk the safety of all of you in such a cavalier manner does not bespeak reason.”

  She turned and leaned back against the counter as she sipped her tea. “Nevertheless, I must try. Give me until this afternoon to see what I can do.” She glanced at an antique grandfather clock standing in a corner. “Call on me at four this afternoon. I should know by then if I can persuade him to leave this dangerous course he is on.”

  Albert got to his feet. “All right, Carmilla, but be careful. Morpheus has risked much to do this. I am afraid he will not be willing to give it up so easily.”

  Carmilla smiled. “He would not dare act openly against the leader of our Council. There are too many of us for him to fight and succeed. I think I can make him see the light.”

  “Thank you, Carmilla,” TJ said, taking her hand. “We’re counting on you to save our friend’s life.”

  “I’ll see you at four, dear,” Carmilla said, and showed them to the door.

  As soon as they were gone, she went up the back stairs to her room and looked in her address book for Michael’s cell phone number. She knew he wouldn’t have the girl at his house. That would be too dangerous, as he had neighbors.

  She dialed his number and waited for him to answer.

  “Morpheus,” he said shortly into the phone.

  “Michael, this is Carmilla,” she said. “You must stop this madness!”

  “Why, Carmilla. Whatever are you talking about?” Michael answered in a silky smooth voice.

  “You know what I mean, Michael. This abduction and killing of Normals, and the kidnapping of that lady doctor.”

  There was silence on the phone for several seconds, and then Michael asked, “Have you discussed these accusations with the Council?”

  “Not yet,” Carmilla answered, “but that’s my next step if you don’t cease this craziness immediately.”

  “Carmilla, I was just about to have breakfast. How about if I come by your place about noon and we’ll discuss it further?”

  “All right, until noon then.”

  Michael put the phone down and picked up the breakfast tray he’d prepared for Sam. He went to room 1 and knocked on the door before unlocking it and entering.

  He found Sam sitting on the bare mattress, leaning back against the headboard with her legs crossed and her arms covering her bare breasts. He thought he’d find a frightened, scared woman, but the person staring back at him showed only defiance and hatred, not fear.

  “Good morning, Sam,” he said jovially, as if greeting an old acquaintance. “I hope I may call you Sam instead of Doctor.”

  In a calm, level voice, Sam replied, “You can call me anything you want, as long as you give me back my clothes and let me out of here.”

  Ignoring her words, Michael placed the breakfast tray on the bed at her feet. He brought a straight-backed chair from the corner of the room and sat down next to the bed. “I’ve brought you some food. I thought you might be hungry.”

  She made no move to uncover herself, but merely stared at him. “Are you going to return my clothes?” she asked.

  He smiled sadly and shook his head. “I’m afraid not, my dear.”

  She gave him one more look, and then sighed. Without any signs of self-consciousness, she picked up the tray and set it on her lap and began to eat, ignoring him completely.

  This woman has spirit, he thought. She knows she needs to keep up her strength, but resistance at this point is useless. She’s just waiting for a chance to escape. She’s very brave.

  “Aren’t you going to ask why you’re here?” Michael asked.

  “I know why I’m here,” she answered, still not looking at him, and making no effort to hide her nakedness.

  “Oh?”

  “Yes. You think by kidnapping me and holding me against my will, you’ll force my friends to give up on their search for a cure for your sickness.”

  Michael sat up in his chair, offended. “I don’t believe being a member of a superior race is a sickness, as you call it.”

  She gave him a scornful look. “Oh, and do members of a superior race get their kicks staring at naked women, women who wouldn’t give them the time of day unless they were forced to?”

  Stung, and a little embarrassed by her accusations, Michael bristled. “What do you know about it?” he asked heatedly. “You Normals with your mayfly lives. I’ve seen the rise and fall of countries, and I’ve taken thousands of you as my rightful prey.”

  Sam, unimpressed, glanced around the shabby room. “And what do you have to show for all those years?” she asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Wisdom? Understanding? No, all you have is some dump in the woods where you can take someone weaker than you and keep her prisoner.” She shook her head. “Doesn’t sound like much of a bargain to me, this sickness you have.”

  “You bitch!” he screamed, and jumped to his feet. Sweeping the breakfast tray off the bed, he grabbed her by her shoulders and lifted her in the air.

  Instead of cowering back, Sam doubled up her fist and hit him as hard as she could in the face, flattening his nose and causing it to spurt blood. As his eyes filled with tears and he let go to put his hand to his face, she ran from the room, making for the front door.

  He was on her in a fl
ash, tackling her and rolling on the floor with her in his arms until he was on top of her.

  She glared up at him, her chest heaving, her hands clawing at his face and leaving deep furrows on his cheeks.

  He cursed and finally managed to grab her arms and pin her underneath him where she couldn’t move.

  Taking a few deep breaths, he stared down at her, his blood dripping down onto her breasts. Jesus, he thought, I’ve never seen a Normal with such fire and spirit. He looked at her breasts, glistening with sweat, stained scarlet with his own blood; he felt a heaviness in his groin.

  Grinning evilly, he leaned down and licked the blood from her breasts, causing the nipples to spring erect. Sam whipped her head from side to side, still fighting him and trying to get away.

  He laid himself out on her body, pushing the hardness of his penis against her loins, and whispered in her ear. “I could take you right now and you’d be powerless to stop me.” He chuckled. “In fact, I think you’d like it.”

  She pulled her face away from him and spit in his eye. “Then you’d be wrong!” she shouted.

  “Oh, then let’s see,” he challenged with a growl. He pulled her arms over her head and held her wrists in one of his hands; with the other, he pulled his pants down. He rubbed his penis against her while he explored her groin with his hand and bent his head down to kiss her, moving his tongue into her mouth as he used his mind to impress his lust on her.

  Unlike most Normals he’d attacked in the past, she didn’t immediately respond to his mental commands, but fought him tooth and nail. She shut her eyes and resisted him as no one ever had.

  However, after a few minutes, the inevitable happened and he gained at least partial control of her mind. She stopped resisting him and lay beneath him, unmoving and limp.

  As his hand continued its probing and caressing, he felt her sex become wet and saw her nipples become erect in the first throes of passion.

  Instead of fighting, she returned his kiss, pushing her tongue into his mouth and moving her hips against him as he pushed against her.

  She moaned deep in her throat and put her arms around him, pulling him tighter against her. As he became more excited, he felt his body begin to change. His fingers became claws and his face began to melt and reshape.

  He pulled his fingers out of her sex, lest the claws injure her, and moved his body over her, ready to couple.

  Suddenly she bared her teeth and bit down hard on his tongue, almost severing it.

  When Michael screamed and jerked back, Sam kneed him in the groin and pushed him off with her legs.

  She crawled and scrabbled on hands and knees until she was out from under him, then ran out the door next to the kitchen. Unfortunately, the door led onto the balcony. She was trapped.

  Michael stumbled to his feet and followed her out onto the balcony, where she stood with her back against the railing.

  He wiped the blood off his mouth and waited for his tongue to heal itself enough for him to speak. They stood there, staring at each other for four or five minutes, with Sam glancing back over her shoulder at the bayou below.

  Finally, when his tongue had knit itself back together, Michael growled. “That was very good, Sam. My congratulations. No Normal has ever been able to resist me mentally before, and certainly none has had the strength of will to pretend to be under my control when she wasn’t.”

  As she looked over her shoulder again, Michael said, “You can jump if you want to, but before you do, look at that bank over there.”

  Sam looked across the bayou to the far bank and saw several six-foot-long alligators slide into the water and make their way through the black liquid toward the balcony.

  “My friends are used to being fed when someone appears on the balcony. Are you going to disappoint them?” he asked.

  She seemed to wilt when she found there was no escape. “Come, my dear,” Michael said in a reasonable voice. “Let’s forget all this unpleasantness and return to your room.”

  Sam moved past him, shrinking back as she passed so their bodies wouldn’t touch, and walked toward her room. Her back was straight and her movements dignified in spite of her nakedness.

  As Michael shut the door, he said, “I have a luncheon engagement, but I will be back for supper.”

  Sam took her place on the bed, crossing her legs and covering her breasts as she stared at him in contempt.

  Thirty-six

  On the way to meet with Carmilla, Morpheus reflected on the woman he had abducted. He’d never met a Normal with such fire and spirit, or one with the mental strength to fight his domination. He laughed to himself, something extremely rare for Michael, who was by nature a somber man. It would be a shame to destroy such a person, even to achieve the defeat of their plan to reverse the Transformation. He decided whatever the outcome of his meeting with Carmilla, he would release the lady doctor and find another way to halt their research. Such a spirit deserved to be left unchanged.

  Now all he had to decide before arriving at Carmilla’s shop was whether the time was ripe for him to challenge her for leadership of the Vampyre Council. He’d stayed in the background far too long. His friends among the other Vampyres deserved his style of leadership, he decided. Yes, he would give Carmilla a choice: defer to his superior ideas voluntarily, or he would force her.

  Upon his arrival, Morpheus entered Carmilla’s shop without knocking, to show her his contempt for her position as leader. He put the Closed sign on the door and proceeded into the shop. When he walked into the back room, he found her waiting for him, drinking her damned tea as usual.

  “Hello, Morpheus,” she said, not at all surprised by his entering without being invited.

  “Good afternoon, Carmilla.”

  “Would you care for some tea?” she asked, having the gall to treat this as just another social gathering.

  He shook his head. “No, this calls for something stronger.” He stepped to the bar next to the kitchen counter and poured himself a brandy from a crystal decanter she’d kept from colonial days.

  He swirled the amber liquid in the snifter and took a seat across the table from her. “Now, what is all this nonsense you called me about?” he asked, leaning back in his chair and crossing his legs, straightening the seam on his trousers so the razor-sharp crease wouldn’t be wrinkled.

  Carmilla cut right to the chase. “Do you have any idea of the risks you are taking?”

  He took a drink and let the fiery liquid caress his tongue. “No, dear Carmilla. Why don’t you tell me?”

  “Michael, we have followed the nonlethal-feeding rule for many years for a very good reason. I know you are aware of the pogroms in the Middle Ages when people realized we walked among them. Do you want to return to those days by letting the authorities know of our existence?”

  He sighed, slowly shaking his head. “Oh, Carmilla. You give the Normals too much credit for logical thinking. All the mortals think about nowadays are their movies, television shows, and computer games. They are no more ready to believe in the fact of our existence than they are of alien abductions. If the authorities do become aware of my friends’ and my hunting, which I have taken pains to avoid, they will simply put it down to some depraved serial killer going about his business. Without the bodies of our victims, there is no way they can ascertain the cause of death, let alone who is responsible.”

  She stared at him as if he were beneath contempt. “You are wrong, Michael.” She hesitated. “What if I told you the police have a very good description of you and know that you were in the area where the people went missing?”

  He started, unaware that he’d been seen and noticed on his scouting expeditions. Before he could respond, she went on. “And furthermore, they know that all of the disappearances are related and probably due to the actions of several persons working together.”

  “I don’t believe you,” he said stubbornly.

  “You better believe it, my friend,” she said forcefully. “These days are far different
from the years in the past when we could hunt and feed in one area and move on, without fear of being tracked or traced. Those computers you speak so disdainfully about allow the police in every area of the country to trace murders done in similar manners.”

  She got up and went to refill her teacup, speaking over her shoulder. “If you and Sarah and Jean, and whoever else has been corrupted by your ideas, continue on this path, it will only be a short time until we are once again hunted down like dogs.”

  He was startled to realize she knew who his accomplices were. He thought he’d managed to keep it a secret from her.

  “So what if a few do come to believe in our race and recognize what we’re doing?” he asked, furious at her for not being able to see the natural superiority of their race. “If they dare to try and go public with what they know, they’ll be branded as fools, or worse.”

  He decided to try and reason with her one more time. “Carmilla, Vampyres are the future. We are far superior to the Normals in every way, and I am tired of having to skulk around, sipping a little blood from this one and taking a small snack from another one. It is far past the time we should assume our rightful place in the world as predators no mortal can stand against.”

  She leaned back against the counter and stared at him with wide eyes. “Why, you really are as crazy as the one called the Ripper,” she said in a wondering voice, as if she were just now coming to understand the depth of his insanity. “You would bring us all down to satisfy your pathetic ego.”

  He finished the brandy in a deep swallow and threw the glass against a far wall. “Enough of this useless chatter, Carmilla.” He nearly screamed. “I can see you haven’t the vision necessary to lead us any longer.”

  She smiled grimly and shook her head, a deeply sad look in her eyes. “Oh, so you think the Council members will follow you now?” she asked. “Well, we’ll see about that after I call them and tell them what you’ve done, including the fact that you kidnapped one of the doctors working to find a cure for this dreadful disease you are so proud to suffer from.”

 

‹ Prev