Dark Blood

by James M. Thompson

  He simply nodded and didn’t reply.

  She wiped sweat off her brow with the back of her arm and frowned when it came away soaking wet. “What is going on?” she asked. “What’s wrong with me?”

  He took a deep breath. “It appears, Sam, as if you are in the first stages of Transformation.”

  “Transformation?” she asked weakly. “What do you mean? How could that be? I haven’t drunk of your blood . . .” Then it hit her. “Oh, God, no!”

  “I’m afraid so, Sam. When you bit my tongue as I kissed you, you must have swallowed enough of my blood to begin the Transformation.”

  “Well, make it stop!” she demanded with as much strength as she could manage.

  He shook his head. “That is impossible. Once begun, the process and end result are inevitable.”

  She covered her face with her hands. “You bastard!”

  He reached out to touch her shoulder gently. “Sam, for what it’s worth, I came back here to let you go.”

  She peeked up at him, her face swollen and pale.

  “Yes. I so admired your spirit in resisting me, I was determined to find another way to stop your friends without harming you.”

  “Bullshit!” she exclaimed.

  “No, it is true.” He sighed. “I am as sorry about this as you are.”

  “I seriously doubt that,” she said with some exasperation, and then she doubled over in pain, wrapping her arms around her stomach and moaning. “Jesus, it hurts so bad!”

  “It will only get worse, I’m afraid,” Michael said.

  “Christ, you’re just full of good news.”

  He smiled, intrigued that even in extreme pain, she could still joke and try to make light of her situation.

  “I can help you a little, if you’ll let me,” he said, gently stroking her arm as he talked.

  “How?” she groaned, her face a mask of pain.

  “The fewer of the organisms in my blood you ingest, the slower and more painful the process of Transformation. If you take in a larger quantity, the process will proceed much more quickly and there will be almost no pain.”

  She looked at him in amazement. “You don’t seriously think I’d consent to drink more of your blood, do you?”

  He shrugged. “Of course, that is entirely up to you. But, in the long run, it will make no difference. You will transform with or without taking additional blood, but you will be in intense pain for a considerable amount of time if you do not agree to . . . additional feedings.”

  “Fuck you, Morpheus,” she almost screamed, pushing his hand away. “I’d rather die than do that.”

  “Oh, you won’t die, my dear. You will wish you had many times over because the pain will be excruciating and it will go on and on for weeks.”

  She looked at him, then narrowed her eyes and sniffed loudly. “What is that god awful smell?” She sniffed again and then looked down at her sweat-covered body. “Oh, Christ, it’s me, isn’t it?”

  He nodded. “Will you let me assist you? I can help you get clean.”

  She smirked and spread her arms, revealing her breasts, shiny with a film of perspiration. “What the hell? You’ve already seen all there is to see.”

  “I’ll be right back,” he said, and got up and went into the bathroom. Seconds later, she heard water running and he returned.

  He bent over and picked her up and carried her like a baby in his arms into the bathroom. The tub was filling with warm water and she noted he’d added some sort of good-smelling bubble bath.

  He gently lowered her into the suds and laid her head back against the rear of the tub. Then he took a washcloth and soap and began to wash her body, scrubbing softly with the cloth around her face and neck, and then down over her breasts and stomach. Finally, he washed her legs and thighs, moving them to the side so he could do her genitals and buttocks under the water.

  She was too weak to resist, so she lay there, her eyes closed, enjoying the softness of his touch and the refreshing feeling of the warm, fragrant bubbles as they caressed her body.

  While she was submerged in the warm liquid, the pain seemed to abate a bit. But when he stood her up and began to towel her off, her joints felt as if someone had lit a fire in them, and her muscles contracted in spasms and cramps so bad she could barely stand unaided.

  Once she was dry, he again picked her up and carried her to the bed, laying her down on some pillows and bed linens he’d brought from another room. As she shivered, he covered her with a sheet and sat on the side of the bed, watching her.

  After two hours of unrelenting agony, with the pain not having let up for a second, Sam finally turned her face to him. “I think I’m ready for another dose of blood, if it’ll make this go away for a while.”

  Michael inclined his head. He stood up and began removing his clothes.

  “Wait a minute,” Sam asked, her face clouding. “Is that necessary?”

  “Yes. I do not want blood on my clothes,” he replied as he removed the last of his clothing.

  Against her will, her eyes dropped to his penis, which was rapidly growing larger as he stared down at her nakedness. It was the largest she had ever seen; she shuddered at the thought of what it would feel like to have it inside her.

  He lay on the bed next to her, stretching out with his lower body against hers. He used a fingernail to open a small vein in his neck and raised his chin so she could get to it.

  Hesitantly, a look of extreme distaste on her face, she put her lips against his pale, cold skin and began to suck the blood as it trickled into her mouth.

  At first, it tasted coppery and salty, and then it slowly began to taste sweet; she thought it the best thing she’d ever tasted. Almost without realizing it, her arms went around his shoulders and she pulled him to her, enjoying the feel of her breasts flattening against his chest.

  He put his hand behind her head and stroked her neck as she suckled him, drawing his blood into her mouth faster and faster.

  She finally pulled her head back, a wondering look in her eyes. “What’s happening?” she asked in a small voice as her nipples sprang erect. She felt herself becoming wet with a desire so overpowering she couldn’t breathe.

  He leaned away from her and moved his hand to cover her breast, which swelled and throbbed with his touch as he caressed her. “The act of feeding is essentially a sexual one for a Vampyre,” he said in a husky voice. “Though I’ve never had sex with a Normal I’ve fed on, I invariably seek out a female of my species immediately afterward and couple with her; otherwise, the lust is overwhelming.”

  She shook her head. “No, I don’t want this!” she said heatedly. “I’m in love with Matt Carter.”

  He continued to move his hand in small circles over her breast, pinching the engorged nipple gently, and then moving his hand lower on her abdomen until his fingers were entwined in her pubic hair. “Love has nothing to do with it,” he explained. “The act of feeding releases hormones into my bloodstream in such an amount, they act as an irresistible aphrodisiac, both to me and to you.”

  Sam moaned deep in her throat as her vagina pulsed and throbbed under the influence of her blood meal. She thought her breasts were going to explode—they hurt so much and her nipples still tingled from his touch.

  As his fingers gently spread the lips of her sex and entered her wetness, she groaned and pushed against his hand, even though she fought it with every fiber of her being.

  Michael reached over and pulled her lips back down to his neck and she began to suck and swallow again. As he caressed her, she continued to feed and let her body slide down in the bed, opening her legs to his touch, moving her pelvis against him harder and harder.

  As she drank his blood, Michael leaned his head down and began to kiss her ear and cheek, flicking his tongue against her soft skin and reveling in the taste of her sweat.

  Her hand moved to him as if it had a mind of its own, her fingers wrapping themselves around his hardness and squeezing while she continued to drink
and suck his blood.

  Between swallows, she gasped in pleasure at the feel of him inside her, and when his penis throbbed and jumped under her touch, she began to move her hand up and down as her pelvis pumped against his hand between her legs.

  Finally, Michael could stand it no longer. He pushed her onto her back and straddled her, his penis erect between her legs and resting against the entrance to her sex.

  He leaned down and kissed her, feeling her mouth open under his lips and her tongue reach into his mouth, teasing and flicking against his in a dance of love.

  He grasped her breast and squeezed as they kissed, and he slowly moved his hips forward until he was just inside her.

  Suddenly, with a gasp and a small cry, she pulled her head back and looked into his eyes. “Please, I know I can’t stop you, Michael, and God knows right now I don’t want to, but if you have any regard for me, don’t do this.”

  Michael gritted his teeth and took a deep breath, staring down into her eyes. His penis, the head of it just inside her, throbbed and moved.

  With a growl of frustration, Michael forced his hips back and rolled off her, breathing heavily and fighting a desire to take her with every bit of his strength.

  After a moment, Sam rolled on her side against him, her left breast resting on his chest and her arm across him with her hand on his cheek. “Thank you, Michael, for being so strong . . . stronger than me.”

  She moved her hand down his stomach until her fingers brushed against his hardness. “Would you like me to . . . help you another way?” she asked in a quiet voice.

  “Oh, God, yes!” Growling, almost out of control, as he pushed himself against her hand.

  Thirty-nine

  On the way back to the apartment after leaving Carmilla’s shop, Albert suddenly pulled over to the side of the road and parked the car.

  “What is it?” TJ asked, looking up from Carmilla’s journal.

  “We need to talk,” Albert said, shutting off the engine and turning sideways so he could look directly at TJ.

  TJ shut the journal and laid it in her lap, her hands folded over it. “All right.”

  “It’s time we decided what we’re going to do about Sam, and about curing you of this curse I inflicted on you.”

  “Albert, my first priority is to find Sam and to make sure nothing happens to her,” TJ said firmly. “It’s great that we finally have a way to reverse the changes that have occurred in me, but my first loyalty is to Sam.”

  “I thought that’s how you’d feel,” Albert said. “So all we have to do is find out where Morpheus has taken her, then go and take her away from him.”

  “That’s right.”

  He smiled, his eyes sad. “However, that is not going to be easy. From the looks of things, even Carmilla, who knew him well, underestimated his determination to keep the cure from ever being used, and even underestimated his strength and power.”

  TJ closed her eyes, trying to put the picture of Carmilla’s bloodstained shop out of her mind. “I know.”

  “I don’t want to make the same mistake, TJ,” Albert said softly.

  “What do you mean?” she asked, her eyes boring into his.

  “If I go up against Morpheus by myself, and lose, it will be the end of all of us. There will be nothing to stop him from coming after you and Shooter and Matt, after he kills Sam.” He hesitated. “And that is just what he’d have to do to make sure the cure stays a secret.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “I’m going to need some help, some backup when I go after him. I thought I could count on Carmilla and would be able to leave you out of it, but”—he shrugged—“obviously things have changed.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “But of course you’ll have my help, and Shooter’s and Matt’s, too.”

  He shook his head. “Having Normals with me will be of no help at all, TJ. In fact, it’d probably be a hindrance because then I’d have to spend time and energy looking after you all instead of concentrating on taking Morpheus down.”

  “So what do you want?”

  “I need you to complete the Transformation. I need you to be a full-fledged Vampyre, to stand beside me and help me in the fight against Morpheus.”

  Her face paled. “But I am—”

  “No. No, you’re not,” he interrupted. “You’re still only halfway there, caught somewhere in limbo between being human and being one of us. And if you’re seriously considering undertaking the destruction of one as powerful as this Morpheus appears to be, then I’m going to need you at full strength.”

  She dropped her gaze to her hands. “What must I do to finish Transforming?”

  “You must again start to feed on blood, and you must take in as much as you can in the next couple of days. That will cause the plasmids to conjugate and reproduce in large numbers, completing the changes in your DNA.”

  Her eyes rose to fix on him. “You mean I should take more of your blood?”

  He shook his head. “As far as Transformation goes, that would be best, but I think it would be a grave mistake for us to share blood again.”

  “Why?” she asked, wondering what his objections were.

  He sighed and leaned back against the door. “TJ, you must be aware of the changes that take place when we feed. Our hormones go into overdrive and the act is always a mixture of sexual desire and fulfillment as well as nourishment.”

  She blushed, remembering the times she’d taken his blood and the wild coupling that invariably occurred, as well as what had happened on the few occasions she’d drank of Shooter’s blood.

  “Yes, I know.”

  He leaned across the seat and put his hand on hers. “You know what would happen if you and I—”

  “Yes,” she said, squeezing his hand in hers.

  “TJ, I still love you, and I would give anything to have you as my mate, but you love Shooter. It wouldn’t be fair to him or to you to let our emotions get carried away in a feeding frenzy and spoil what you two have together.”

  A solitary tear formed in her eye and dropped onto her cheek. “I agree. So,” she said, brushing the tear away, “I’ll just have to take what I need from Shooter.”

  He shook his head again. “No, that won’t be possible, at least not all of it. You’re going to need a lot of blood, and taking that much from one person would probably kill him.”

  “But what can I do?” she asked. “I’m not about to feed on some poor innocent person, even if it means saving Sam.”

  He cleared his throat. “I thought, well, perhaps Matt will volunteer to give you some of his blood, in order to save Sam.”

  “Jesus, Albert,” she said, her face aghast. “I couldn’t do that. I’d be too ashamed.”

  He shrugged. “TJ, it’s the only way. That’s why I stopped here to talk to you without Shooter and Matt being present. You are going to have to decide which is more important: your pride or saving Sam.”

  “That’s not fair,” she protested, turning to stare out the window.

  “Life’s not fair, TJ. It’s not fair that you’re in this predicament, or that Sam has been kidnapped. But that’s the way it is. The choice is up to you.”

  He turned forward, started the car, and began to drive toward the apartment.

  By the time they arrived, TJ had made up her mind. Albert was right. She was ready to do whatever it took to rescue Sam, even if it meant debasing herself by feeding on Matt and Shooter.

  The men were both pacing nervously when they entered. Matt rushed up to TJ. “Well, what happened?” he asked. “Was Carmilla able to talk Morpheus into releasing Sam?”

  “You’d better both sit down,” Albert said, motioning them to the couch in the living room. TJ sat next to Shooter and took his hand in hers, with Matt at the other end of the sofa.

  Albert sat across from them in an easy chair and told them exactly what they’d found in Carmilla’s shop.

  “Oh, Jesus,” Matt said, his eyes losing all hope.

  Albert went on
to explain about the journal they’d found, and how they hoped it would lead either to Morpheus or to the others in league with him.

  “One way or another, we’re going to find the bastard and get Sam back,” he said.

  “Then let’s get on with it,” Matt said.

  Albert looked at TJ. She cleared her throat and went over the arguments Albert had presented about needing her to finish her Transformation in order to help him in his fight against the Vampyres of New Orleans.

  “No way!” Shooter protested, his face red and flushed. He turned to TJ. “Baby, we’ll have the serum tomorrow. You’ll be able to begin your cure,” he said persuasively.

  She shook her head. “No, Shooter. Albert is right. Unless we defeat this Morpheus and those working with him, none of us will live to enjoy the cure. It has to be this way,” she said, her eyes staring into his sadly.

  “But, Albert,” Shooter said, “if she completes the Transformation, won’t that make it harder to cure her?”

  He shrugged. “Theoretically, yes.”

  “Then I’m against it!” Shooter said firmly.

  TJ looked at Matt. “Matt, what do you think?” she asked.

  He stared at the floor. “I’m with Shooter.” He took a deep breath. “As much as I love Sam and want her back, I know she’d never agree to let you sacrifice yourself to save her. That’s not the answer. We’ll just have to find some other way—”

  “There is no other way,” Albert interjected. “Either we find and kill Morpheus, or he will find and kill us all. He cannot allow us to live as long as we have a cure for Vampyrism in our possession.”

  “But—” Shooter began.

  “No, Albert’s right,” TJ said. “Besides, if the cure works, I’ll still be able to become normal once again after all this is over.”

  “But what if it doesn’t?” Shooter argued.

  “Then nothing has changed,” TJ said. “As it is, I’m still Transforming. If the cure is worthless, I’ll eventually change anyway; all this will do is speed up the process.”

  “So what you need to do is to take some blood from Matt and me so you’ll be strong enough to go up against this Morpheus, is that the plan?” Shooter asked.