Once Bitten

by Lisette Ashton

  ‘I should have killed you last night,’ he grunted.

  ‘I was thinking the same thing myself.’

  And then we were face to face and animosity crackled between us like shards of blue lightning.

  My eyes blazed with crimson fury. I hooked my fingers into talons that were ready to gouge and claw.

  Alan tried to strike me with the crucifix.

  I back-pedalled fast enough to watch it swirl through the air before my face. Acting without thought, allowing the adrenaline to do the hard work for me, I snatched the arms of the cross and wrenched it from Alan’s hands.

  The wood burnt my palms. Bolts of electric agony ripped along my arms and left me shocked and weakened by the pain. Holding the crucifix was an anguish that hurt far worse than I had expected, even though I’d suffered similar extremes before. I gasped for breath and tried not to pass out from the weight of the intolerable cross in my hands.

  Alan faltered before me.

  He was disarmed, confused and suddenly frightened.

  I snapped the wood over my knee and threw the broken pieces aside. The pain I had suffered vanished immediately. Shaking my head in dismay I said, ‘It’s no wonder no one comes to the church anymore. If you’re not trying to bore parishioners to death with your mind-numbing sermons and your dreary, dismal hymns, you’re trying to bludgeon the poor souls to death with cheap wooden crosses.’

  He hurled himself at me.

  One fist was aimed at my face and I leant back.

  Again, memories of the Matrix movies spun through my mind. I envisioned my waist tilting 90 degrees in the wrong direction and a quirky camera angle that seemed to follow my gravity-defying pose.

  Alan grimaced with dismay as his hand sailed through air.

  I slapped cuffs around one wrist, turned him away from me, and secured his arms behind his back.

  Being honest, I had no idea why Christine had given me a package that included handcuffs, but my gratitude to the redhead was immense and overwhelming. Even though I had pressed her on the subject she wouldn’t say why she thought the items would be of use. She simply tried to appear omnipotent and be her usual insufferable self.

  Alan raged.

  His screams of fury echoed around the candlelit walls of St Germain’s. He called me a whore from hell and a bastard demon. He said I would burn in the pits and that my presence defiled the holiness of the church. His inventiveness was admirable and it was only when he called me a harlot that I slapped him.

  My hand collided hard with his cheek. As the echo of the blow began to die down I saw the blazing red shape of my palm print swell against the side of his face.

  ‘Don’t call me a harlot,’ I hissed. ‘That’s your special name for Mel.’

  He looked justifiably confused.

  His expression turned to panic when I effortlessly threw him onto the altar. I hadn’t had the opportunity to test my vampire strength until this moment. Carlos had kept me bound; Dean had not needed any force or coercion; and Christine was more entertaining to subdue with mental wiles rather than physical ones. But with Alan I felt free to use every ounce of my strength. After the way he had handed Mel over to the legion of vampire hunters, I righteously believed that he deserved to suffer.

  ‘I’m here to ask for help.’

  ‘I’ll pray for you,’ he sneered. ‘That’s all the help you’ll get from me.’

  I raised a hand to slap him again then thought better of it. He lay clumsily on the altar, the cuffed hands behind his back making it awkward for him to get comfortable. Rather than punish him by slapping my hand across his face again it was easier to grab his shirt and tear it open.

  The sound of fabric tearing was like a shocked gasp in the silence of the church. Alan glanced down, as though he expected to find I had ripped his body open. We both stared at the taut six-pack of his exposed stomach. His body was lean and tanned and exceptionally well toned. It crossed my mind that I could have a lot of fun with him – but I wouldn’t let myself dwell on that thought. I was there to solicit his help: whether he wanted to give it or not.

  ‘I don’t want your prayers,’ I snarled. ‘I want answers.’

  ‘Prayers are all you’ll ever get from me.’

  I grabbed at his shirt again and tore it from his body.

  The power of my vampire strength came as a surprise. I stared in wonder at the shirt, amazed I had ripped it away so easily. The only part of the outfit that didn’t come away was the starched clerical collar that encircled Alan’s neck. I thought of tearing that from him and then decided it looked well set against his naked chest. He made me think of a kinky male stripper I had once seen. The man was dressed like a respectable vicar but had soon removed his cassock and vestments to reveal a well-oiled and extremely desirable body.

  The memory churned fresh wetness into my sex. Without thinking about my actions, I ripped the trousers away from his legs.

  Alan was left on the altar with his hands behind his back and an embarrassing bulge pushing at the front of his shorts. The underwear were black, as I had expected for a man of the cloth, but their tight fit was not as modest as I had anticipated.

  ‘Is that a stake in your shorts,’ I giggled. ‘Or are you just pleased to see me?’

  His cheeks turned crimson.

  I sympathised with his torment and, under other circumstances I might have taken pity on him. But I was anxious to get help for Mel and, more importantly, I felt I ought to exact some revenge on the near-naked priest before me. Less than 24 hours earlier our positions had been perfectly reversed. Alan had towered over my bound bare body and I had been frightened, confused and helpless.

  Now it was time for payback.

  I stroked the shape of his erection through the shorts. The flesh was warm and viciously exciting. Alan tried to struggle away from my touch but, with his arms fixed behind his back, his opportunity for movement was limited.

  I wrapped my fist around his shaft and gripped him tight.

  His flesh was still hidden inside the cotton of his shorts. My cool fingers were heated by his boiling length. He glared at me with an expression of tortured outrage. And I smiled to show him my overlong canines.

  Alan paled.

  But the erection remained hard in my hand.

  Continuing to hold him, not allowing him the chance to move, I pushed my mouth over his face and stole a kiss. He kept his lips pressed tight together but I knew he was excited.

  The cock in my hand grew stiff and the pulse that constantly beat through it began to quicken. Any worries I’d had that I might be upsetting Mel’s boyfriend were pushed aside by the certainty that, whether he acknowledged it or not, Alan was enjoying my domination.

  ‘Mel needs your help.’

  ‘Mel is beyond my help. She’s a godless vampire.’

  I gripped his cock tighter.

  Alan moaned.

  ‘Wrong answer,’ I snapped. Loosening my hold on him for a moment, swiping my nails viciously across his shorts and tearing them open, I watched his long pink cock spring out into the open. The foreskin had rolled back to reveal a bulbous purple glans. A pearl of pre-come dotted the slit in the end. His shaft was thick, pale and lined with long, tempting blue veins. The prospect of lowering my mouth over him – sucking, licking and swallowing – was almost too strong to ignore.

  ‘Alan!’ I exclaimed theatrically. ‘It isn’t a stake! It’s an erection.’

  His shame was so strong I wanted to laugh. He blushed and squirmed and mumbled a handful of insults as he tried to free himself from my clutches.

  Climbing swiftly onto the altar with him, placing a leg on either side of his bound body, I lowered myself down to him until I was squatting on my haunches.

  He stiffened.

  With my skirt hitched up Alan was allowed a glimpse of my shaved pussy. His eyes remained locked on the sight as I guided the tip of his cock toward my hole.

  ‘I’m going to force you to help me, Alan,’ I advised him. ‘And I can
either do it using pleasure or pain. The choice is yours.’

  To give him a taste of what I was suggesting, I stroked the end of his erection against my sex lips. The warm flesh was electric against my pussy. The moisture of my arousal made his glans slippery as it rolled along my heated vulva. A tickle of raw energy caused my inner muscles to spasm and I had to physically resist the temptation to slide his length inside my hole.

  ‘Which is it to be, Alan?’ I asked. My fist remained tight around his shaft. The end of his cock was pressed hard against the yielding flesh of my sex. ‘Do you want me to break you with pleasure or pain? I have my own personal preferences, but I’m happy to let you make the final decision.’

  ‘You could never break me with your vile charms,’ he spat. He glared at me, renewed strength and anger apparent in his features. ‘Whether you make me endure pain or pleasure, I won’t be undone by a feckless demon.’

  I bristled.

  Part of my anger came from confusion: I had no idea what feckless meant. I assumed it implied I was lacking in ‘feck’, in the way that hopeless and worthless would mean lacking worth or hope. But I had no idea what feck was, or whether I should be pleased that it was something I didn’t possess.

  A greater part of my outrage came from his defiance. He was bound and helpless and should have been prepared to do everything I told him. Yet it wasn’t working out as I had hoped.

  Angrily, I leapt from the altar and snatched a votive candle from beside the pulpit. If he wasn’t prepared to succumb to the threat of pleasure, I thought the prospect of pain might prove more persuasive. Even if it didn’t, I figured I would have fun subjecting him to some of the torment he had inflicted on me and my best friend.

  ‘I want someone to help me rescue Mel from the legion of vampire hunters,’ I said simply. ‘You strike me as the obvious choice because you’ve been in contact with the bastards. You must know where they gather and you can help me get to them so I can rescue her.’

  ‘The legion of vampire hunters are good men. They’re not bastards.’

  He paused, looking momentarily reflective before saying, ‘It’s possibly true that their current leader has some unorthodox methods. But they’re effective methods and they’ve got a proven success rate. Just because he endorses a few cruelties – that doesn’t mean the entire legion can be dismissed as bastards.’

  I studied the hypnotising flutter of the candle’s flame. It was a glorious length of long, yellow light. It burnt bright in the darkness of the church and looked as though it was searing a hole in the fabric of reality. I remembered Carlos telling me that the legion didn’t have a leader, and that they acted as a collective, calling each member brother and treating no man as a superior or an inferior. I wasn’t sure whether the point was important but I was irritated by the disparity and began to wonder how much more of the information I’d been given was incorrect.

  Dismissing the matter, I reminded myself I was there to force Alan to help me. Determinedly I turned my mind back to that task. ‘We clearly have a different understanding of what constitutes a bastard,’ I murmured. I continued to study the candle as I faced him. ‘I think a man who hands his vampire girlfriend over to vampire hunters could be fairly described as a bastard. Yet it seems you would disagree.’

  I flashed a smile and held the candle over his chest.

  ‘Do you think I’m a bastard, Alan?’

  ‘You’re a demon. That’s lower than a bastard.’

  I tilted the candle.

  A dribble of molten wax trickled from beneath the base of the flame. It spattered like searing semen against his chest, landing perfectly on his nipple. Droplets sprayed to other parts of his abdomen, cooling instantaneously and settling as bubbles of stiff white wax. His features tightened into a grimace of agony and he considered me with a look of fury.

  ‘Are you going to help me, Alan?’

  ‘Go to hell.’

  ‘Wrong answer.’

  I tilted the candle again. This time the stream of wax rushed over his other nipple. It took a moment longer to harden and I tried not to imagine the hurt he suffered from the scalding liquid. I didn’t suppress the thoughts because I sympathised with his plight or felt any great pity for him. I stopped myself from thinking about his pain because I knew it would add unnecessary force to my mounting excitement.

  His face twisted into a frown of disapproval. Every muscle in his body stood rigid. I glanced down to his cock and saw it stood as hard and proud as it had when I held it in my hand. The discovery that Alan was getting enjoyment from the pain didn’t make me feel too bad about continuing with the torture.

  Even though I didn’t approve of the way he had treated Mel, I could understand why she had wanted him for a boyfriend. Alan embodied a wholesome charm that was clear even while he was naked and writhing bound and helpless on the altar. I suppose the clerical collar around his neck added something to that image but I was more impressed by his powerful build and bookish good looks. I stopped my thoughts from following that route, reminding myself he was Mel’s boyfriend and there were some things I couldn’t do in my quest to free her from the horrors of the legion. It would be disappointing to rescue her and then find she no longer wanted to be my best friend because I had fucked her man in pursuit of securing her freedom.

  ‘Are you going to help me, Alan?’

  ‘There’s no way I can help you.’

  I tilted the candle and splashed three dots of wax down his stomach.

  They weren’t particularly heavy torrents. And, because they splashed on his sternum first, then just above his tummy button, then just below, they avoided all the sensitive areas of his flesh. But, as the clear liquid cooled to a crisp white memory, I think he understood the direction my clumsy hand was taking.

  ‘Give me the answer I want, Alan. Don’t make this more unbearable than it has to be.’

  He grimaced and glared at me. ‘She’s beyond help now. She’s with the legion.’

  I shook my head again and drew a deep breath.

  ‘Wrong answer.’

  Raising the candle over his groin, positioning it so the flow of wax was targeted for his erection, I studied him solemnly and asked, ‘Do you want to reconsider your response?’

  ‘Go to hell.’

  I slammed the candle down on the altar. It landed with enough force to extinguish the flame. The scent of smouldering wick and superheated wax was momentarily more pungent than the flavour of incense and prayers.

  I grabbed Alan’s erection tight at the base. My fingers curled around him and the nails buried into his flesh.

  He stiffened but made no attempt to pull away.

  Pushing my mouth over his length, allowing my lips to circle him, I sucked on his cock for a moment. Technically, I told myself, Mel would never be able to use this as an example of my cheating with her boyfriend. I was only sucking his cock – not really fucking him – and I was doing it all for her benefit. But, while those thoughts appeased some of my doubts, they had the ring of a convenient excuse and did nothing to assuage my worries that I was enjoying the experience of having Alan’s cock in my mouth.

  He was thick and excited.

  The pulse of his flesh beat urgently against my tongue.

  The flavour of his pre-come was deliciously exciting and, although I had enjoyed sucking Dean in the police station toilets, the kinkiness of blowing Alan on the altar of St Germain’s church seemed darker and more daring.

  I wrapped my mouth tight around him and let my tongue tease underneath the rigid dome of his glans. He growled and cursed and the pulse beneath his skin beat with renewed urgency. I glanced up at him, allowing my vampire teeth to glint wickedly in the church’s dwindling candlelight. My lips had peeled back from my brilliant white smile and I could see he was torn between excitement and loathing.

  ‘You love Mel,’ I told him. I moved my mouth slightly away from his shaft but kept my fingers wrapped firmly around the base. The sensation of his pulse beneath my fingers w
as thrilling. ‘You love her. She loves you. You made a mistake in handing her over to the legion of vampire hunters but it’s a rectifiable mistake.’

  My fingers unconsciously squeezed tight around him.

  His eyes grew wider.

  His pulse beat with renewed speed and determination.

  ‘All you have to do is acknowledge you made a mistake and we can work together to force a resolution. Yes, she’s a vampire. But we all have our faults. If you can overlook that single foible in her personality, I’m sure the pair of you can be truly happy together.’

  ‘NO!’

  He said the word with such force I released my hold on him.

  His erection swayed freely and the pearl of pre-come grew larger.

  ‘It doesn’t matter how I felt about Mel,’ Alan snapped.

  I was dismayed to hear him speak about her in the past tense. It suggested that, to Alan’s mind, she was already gone and there was no hope of her ever returning. I wouldn’t allow myself to think of her in those terms and I briefly hated him for having already consigned my best friend to being no more than a memory.

  ‘It doesn’t matter how much you threaten me or cajole me. It doesn’t matter how much you scald me with wax or suck my cock; I can’t go against the legion of vampire hunters.’

  I grimaced and tried to find some way of avoiding the inevitable crush of defeat. ‘What’s so special about the damned legion that they’ve earned your undying loyalty? What reason could you possibly have for taking their side instead of Mel’s?’

  He glared. ‘I’ve already pledged my loyalty to them. I’m a member of the legion of vampire hunters.’

  It was enough of an argument to kill my hopes of enlisting his help. Turning quickly, rushing out of St Germain’s without bothering to look back, I ran through the night to the only person that I knew was prepared to help me.

  I ran to Carlos san Miguel.

  Chapter Fifteen

  ‘Enough!’

  The judge’s voice boomed through the courtroom, silencing Tessa and echoing hollowly from the walls. The burning flames fluttered ominously in the ensuing quiet. The stillness was so total it was as though everyone in the room – mortals and vampires alike – held their breath.