In The Depths: A Novel (DeSai Trilogy) Vampire legends

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In The Depths: A Novel (DeSai Trilogy) Vampire legends Page 11

by RWK Clark


  Never had a woman had him in such knots! She was completely hard to his advances, and she would not even put herself in a position which would allow him to put his spell on her in order to convince her. Unless she had a normal bite she would be wary; that was where the control was. He would have to move forward as though he were a weak mortal man.

  He would have to play the game.

  He found the thought to be highly invigorating. The woman was a challenge! He had not been truly challenged, particularly by a female, since his own turning. He felt like a boy, beside himself in his own excitement.

  The phone on his desk rang in two short bursts, and he picked up the receiver. “This is President DeSai.”

  “This is Lamb, sir. May I come to your office again?”

  DeSai laughed heartily, knowing the time had been set. “You mean you are not here already?”

  The line went dead in Lamb’s hand, and he made a beeline for the office of the new President of the United States, the Master.

  Chapter 17

  Rasia Engres hung the receiver back onto the cradle of her desk telephone. She sat back in her office chair and considered the appointment she had just made: a one-on-one interview with a US president! Not only would this be good for her career, it could be the best thing for her future all the way around.

  She did not intend to be a journalist into old age. This was simply her career of choice because she was an exceptionally good communicator and manipulator. She was now head of her department, and had her eye on the editor’s chair, but she was biding her time. If she played her cards right she would own this paper within the next five years. She had a plan carefully outlined, and she would do whatever it took to meet her goals.

  But she would sleep with no one to gain the advancement she desired. Sex weakened the resolve, and the guts, of everyone. No, it was not an option.

  She was suspicious of the new President; the way he looked at her at the press conference was something she was very familiar with. She was strikingly beautiful, and she knew it. He was just another man in the end though, no matter how sexy he was, and he was extraordinarily sexy, but that simply did not matter to her. He would, however, help her personal plan move a lot more smoothly if she could work him right. He could put her where she wanted to be, and where was that, exactly?

  In complete control. She wanted to be in complete control of everything. Who knew? Maybe he would sweep her off her feet and marry her, and she could run America, and thus the world, from the shadows.

  Ha! She highly doubted it. She had yet to meet a man of anywhere near that caliber. Rasia simply didn’t believe one existed.

  But she would take this interview; it could only help. She would go with the flow, but she believed her icy demeanor would repel him quickly if he did not reflect the qualities that would benefit her. She chuckled aloud. How evil she was! How little she cared!

  These, in her opinion, were the qualities of a real woman, and she had all of them, and the fact was that luck had nothing to do with it.

  She had been blessed with her good looks by both parents. Her mother and father had been incredibly attractive, if not too bright. Once her father died her mother had gone from man to man, looking for someone to take care of her weak-willed self and her beautiful little red-headed daughter. Even at a very young age these men began to get ideas regarding Rasia.

  At the tender age of eleven she had driven a chef’s knife through the heart of her mother’s third boyfriend for touching her budding breasts. The memory brought a smile to her face, as did the remembrance of dragging his lifeless body out the back door, across the fenced-in yard, and into the river. Even the recollection of cleaning up the man’s blood made her tingle.

  Men were pigs, and she had spent a lifetime using them like so much toilet paper, and she had no qualms about disposing of them in much the same way. They were not beings, they were things to Rasia Engres. Here she was, thirty-years old, and her virginity was still intact. As far as she was concerned it would stay that way.

  At fifteen she was asked to a dance with a young man from her class at school. He had brought a bottle of cheap wine from the local market to their date, and she was excited about taking a sip or two. They had ducked out of the dance early, and walked to a local park to sit by a pond and imbibe a bit. They had each taken only a drink apiece when the advances began.

  Initially she simply shooed him away, but he became more persistent with each drink they took. Her head buzzed nicely, but it did not lessen her judgement. In her frustration with his outrageous behavior she began to encourage him a bit, and finally, just as she had hoped, he lost control and attempted to force her.

  She ‘gave in’ then, or so it had appeared to him. She offered to take him in her mouth, and he eagerly agreed. Only seconds after she began she bit down on his manhood so hard it would require a total of eighty stitches to reattach it properly. She told him to leave her name out of it, or she would scream rape.

  You see, this had been her plan all along. He was the editor of the class paper, and she was a mere step below him. She wanted his spot, and later that week she secured it.

  Yes, a beautiful, focused, determined, and cold individual was Rasia Engres.

  That had been the beginning of her ‘career’. There were some things she loved about her work; she loved the people she met, the parties she attended, and the travel she was able to indulge in. She would love to be able to focus on these three things without her job being the reason they were in her life.

  She could be wrong, and she knew it. There was a good chance that President DeSai really just wanted to give an exclusive interview, and that he had no interest in her at all. No… she doubted it. He would not have remembered her so clearly or singled her out for the privilege without ulterior motives. She was finely tuned into these things; her life experience had made her that way.

  So she would fly with her photographer Oleks to interview the President the day after the next. It would be interesting to see how everything played out. It would be even more interesting to learn his vulnerabilities, and if she could use any of them to her advantage.

  Funny, but she felt like she had just struck gold.

  Chapter 18

  The moment DeSai found out that he would be giving a face to face interview with Rasia Engres in only two days he experienced a literal physical rush of relief. This was new to him; tension and concern were part of being a walking dead man. You lived by your wits, and you murdered for nourishment, but now that he was in control, and had seen such success, the feeling he experienced was much like throwing a heavy weight off one’s back. He hadn’t a care in the world.

  During the days before the interview he walked on air. He was happy, constantly smiling, and took to his new ‘position’ like a fish to water. Those who ‘worked’ with him catered to him constantly, and his family was as busy as ever bringing new family members into the fold.

  As the Master, sex was a part of their homecoming, with the women anyway. The only thing that he found a bit nerve-racking was the fact that he had no sexual desire, and this was beyond his understanding. The animal in him should be drawn to it, yet when a woman was spread bare before him he found himself more unimpressed than anything. This culminated the night before the interview.

  One of the members of his cabinet, Clifford Cummings, had bitten a beautiful woman of thirty-six. She was an attorney from Amsterdam who was in the States vacationing with friends. He had met her at a dance club in downtown Washington, and luring her with the powers he now had was simple. She had been mesmerized by him, and she couldn’t wait to go back to his apartment.

  Their sex was steamy and acrobatic; at one point he thought she may kill him, though he knew this would not occur. After their hot, sweaty bodies were spent she fell asleep next to him quickly. He bit her in a flash, and she didn’t even move. He had rolled over and slept himself.

  The next day she felt the pull to go to the master, and she found herself stan
ding in front of the white house dazed and confused. While she had no idea what she was doing, she knew she had to do it. She was granted immediate entrance, surprisingly enough, and in no time she was enjoying some of the best wine she had ever had in her life with the President himself.

  The man had taken her breath away! He was so handsome she couldn’t think straight, and the very sound of his voice made her panties wet. She knew she was to sleep with him, just as she instinctively knew that he was in complete control of her, body and soul. What she didn’t know was that regardless of her outstanding physical beauty and alluring scent, the thought of sex with her was making the Master more at ease.

  But he knew it had to be done.

  So DeSai tuned out completely. He turned music on loudly so he could not hear her strange accent or the tone of her voice. He kept his eyes tightly closed thinking of Rasia. He didn’t even attempt to inflict even the slightest amount of pain on her, for he just wanted to get it done and send her out with his other soldiers. There were many in Amsterdam who needed to be turned. He even came early in order to end the encounter as quickly as possible, but this was only after she was satisfied, of course. She left his quarters with a happy, zombie-like smile on her face.

  He showered as soon as she left, scrubbing her scent from his skin using the hottest of water. He scrubbed himself until his pale white skin was actually red from the pain, and still he could smell her. She faded only after he closed his eyes picturing Rasia.

  Now he lay in bed alone, clean sheets enveloping him. It was one o’clock in the morning, and he would meet Rasia for the interview right after lunch at one in the afternoon. It seemed to him like the appointment was weeks away. He couldn’t sleep, but he was building a ravenous appetite for fresh blood. He knew that the blood and only the blood would calm his nervous soul.

  That was when he decided to call the luscious Ukrainian reporter himself and thank her for accepting his invitation to interview. He reached into his nightstand and pulled out a folded piece of paper with Rasia’s personal cell phone number on it. He felt no apprehension about making the call, but he was nervous that it would spurn her to refuse the interview. It mattered not to him; he had to hear her voice, and he was confident that he could convince her he had only the purest of intentions.

  He sat up on the side of his bed and took the telephone receiver off the cradle. He dialed the number almost blindly, then put the phone to his ear. There was a bit of static, then it began to ring.

  “Hello.”

  Cyril sat up straight. “Hello, Ms. Engres?”

  “Yes. Who is calling please?” She sounded a bit annoyed, then he realized the time difference. She was likely getting ready to catch her flight! He felt foolish for making the call.

  “It is Cyril DeSai calling,” he said. “I apologize for bothering you if I have. I forgot the time difference between our locations.”

  Rasia cleared her throat into the phone. “How can I help you, Mr. President?”

  DeSai took a deep breath. “I know we will see each other for the interview soon, but I have been planning the entertainment for you and your photographer, as well as the meals. I just wondered if you have any preferences food-wise?”

  “You called me to ask me what I like to eat?”

  Now Cyril felt a bit foolish. It did seem silly that he would phone her at the last minute to ask about her culinary tastes. “I was simply curious if you had preferences. Do you like wine? If so, what is your favorite?”

  “Mr. President,” Rasia began, clearly annoyed. “I don’t care what you serve for food, as we were not planning on socializing with you during this visit. As for wine, I adore it. If you want to indulge me I prefer a nice rich Shiraz, but anything red will do.”

  DeSai felt a bit alarmed at her admission that she and her photographer did not plan on dining with him. He had arranged for a three day stay for the pair so he could get to know her. He would have to manipulate this situation quickly and efficiently.

  “I do apologize again for disturbing you. It is my hope you will reconsider my invitation to dine. My kitchen staff has gone to great lengths to prepare for your visit,” he said with remorse.

  She cleared her throat once again, but this time it sounded more like a growl. “I am preparing to catch my flight,” she said curtly. “I do not see me changing my mind, but I am sure this could be better discussed tomorrow.”

  “Yes, yes,” he began. “I simply wanted to see to it that you would want for nothing while visiting.”

  “This is not a social call, President,” she replied harshly.

  Cyril nodded in the darkness of his room. “I understand, but the comfort of even professional guests is important to me.”

  Rasia was quiet, so Cyril awkwardly continued. “So, I guess I will see you tomorrow afternoon, then?”

  The woman still did not reply. “Hello?” DeSai persisted.

  Rasia Engres had hung up.

  Now he smiled broadly. What a vixen! She woke a desire for blood in him that came in waves. It was time for him to get his anxiety out. He needed to feed.

  Cyril rose quickly and dressed in his traditional black colors. He picked up the telephone on the bedside stand and requested that his limousine be prepared; he wanted to take a drive into the countryside. He planned to quench his thirst in one way or another as soon as possible, and since the entirety of his staff was family now he knew he could do so with no problem at all.

  If he couldn’t find a human, and their numbers were dwindling, any animal would do. It was simply the blood and the peace it always brought that he needed. He needed to completely take a life and put that life inside of himself.

  He entered the limo through the hidden garage, which had been built for the safety of former presidents. He did not need this now; nearly the entire nation belonged to him. He would use it, though. It was always important to keep up appearances, at least until he was able to safely say that not just the nation, but the world belonged to him as well.

  He directed the driver to head into the country, and soon the lights of the city were far behind him. He would feel the presence of a human that had not yet turned, and he would smell an animal. If they had not found someone within an hour of driving he would take the first scent that came his way.

  But as it turned out he had nothing to be concerned about. They were only fifteen minutes out of town when he felt a man. He told his driver to pull the limo over. “I’m going to walk a minute, and I will not need an escort.”

  He climbed from the large vehicle and walked to its rear, where he raised his arms into the air and swiftly took flight into the night sky. Oh, his new life had robbed him of this pleasure! The feeling of the wind in his face gave him overwhelming pleasure. He would not have made a different decision this night, and soon he would do it again. He had forgotten that this was as much a part of who and what he was as the drive to ‘procreate’ his species by building a family.

  He flew about a quarter of a mile, following the sense of energy he had picked up from the nearby male human. There were no houses here; this person was holing up somewhere outside. He could see as if it were daylight, and in a short time he saw him, trudging up the road in a ragged oversized coat.

  He wasted no time. He swooped down on the man, who didn’t even know what hit him.

  “Ugh!” This was the only sound the bum made when DeSai took him. He landed with the man in his arms, struggling slightly, in a nearby culvert, and brought his mouth to the man’s jugular in one blurred movement.

  He drank as though he were dying of thirst; not even a drop dripped down his chin. The man reeked of sweat and urine almost overbearingly, especially for a species who depended on their sense of smell for so many things, but the satisfaction he experienced from the man’s lifeblood intoxicated him, and soon the terrible odor which emanated from him became all but non-existent to Cyril DeSai.

  He sucked so eagerly that he nearly choked, and he continued with gusto long after the lif
e flew from the man’s shell of a body. DeSai let his spent flesh drop to the ground, used up. He looked at the man with disgust; he had served his purpose, and he could have never been a productive, lasting member of his family, so this was meant to be.

  He was energized, and immediately took the sky, soaring and dashing about in the air, playing like a child. He spun and zipped to and fro with great passion, and finally he headed back to the waiting limousine with its driver and Secret Service agent.

  When he arrived he gave his mouth a lick to ensure he hadn’t gotten his ‘food’ on his face, and then he opened the car door and sat down with hardly a sound.

  “Take me back home.”

  The car took off right away, and in no time they were headed back to the bright lights of Washington, D.C.

  Chapter 19

  Rasia Engres stood before a mirror in the ladies’ room at Reagan National Airport freshening her makeup and straightening her clothing. The flight in from Kiev had seemed unbearable, not to mention uncharacteristically long. She had spent the entire night before her flight, as well as the flight itself, considering how Cyril DeSai could be used to her advantage, and as time had passed she found herself getting more and more excited at the prospects.

  His call early this morning as she had been preparing to go to the airport had infuriated her. Who did the man think he was, anyway? She didn’t care if he was the king of the Earth, he was nothing more to her than an opportunity, at least as far as he knew. How dare he call her personal telephone?

  Rasia possessed a murderous rage inside of her, and this she knew full well. It was what had driven her most of her life. Hatred and anger were nourishment to her, and while she was capable of killing a soul without batting an eye she knew she was not suited for prison or death row. She controlled her sick thoughts and twisted appetites by exercising her evils in her day to day life, and thus far this had proven to suffice. All other indulgences were carried out by her very secretly, and she was a very good planner.

 

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