Voracious Vixens, 13 Novels of Sexy Horror and Hot Paranormal Romance

by Travis Luedke

  He lit his pipe and worried his brain with a nagging thought. There were two possibilities left to him – the killers had left the vicinity – or they had gone to ground close by. Douvrey was out of the question for these monsters would stick out like sore thumbs. So if they had remained to hunt their lost witness, they would need to hole up somewhere.

  Gerard puffed on his pipe and sat behind the wheel of his car. He drove back to Auxerre deep in thought.

  ~~~~

  Sitting behind his desk, Inspector Gerard tapped the receiver for the operator. “Connect me with Inspector Duchamps, Paris.” He lit his pipe. The phone rang. “Ah, Pierre ... how are you these days ... sorry to hear that ... try soaking them in beer, I hear that does the trick ... the reason for my call is I need a list of all friends of the Moreaus ... regular guests they entertained who own a large car such as a Rolls Royce or Mercedes ... yes such a terrible thing to happen ... please make all inquiries into guests they had trouble with ... yes I appreciate this will take time ... give my regards to Annalise.” He replaced the receiver and puffed on his pipe.

  He left the office and caught the attention of his Gendarmes. “Make yourselves useful and do a search of the immediate area surrounding Douvrey for a large car. Look for fresh tire tracks that seem out of place near disused barns. Keep a close watch on the village for anything out of the ordinary. These are deranged killers and they are most likely still in the area. If you see anything, report from Doctor Colbert’s pharmacy ... it’s the only phone ... apart from the asylum.”

  The Gendarmes saluted and left.

  Gerard puffed on his pipe, deep in thought.

  Chapter 31

  With eyes of burnt umber, Delicate Rose stared with an almost childish radiance at her reflection in a small, silver-framed mirror. A wooden brush caressed her long hair, bringing a tantalizing sheen to its previous drab dullness. Trembling fingers stroked her face where the fine scratches marred her beautiful chalk-white skin.

  Her fingers described her nose as if to prove to herself she was not in a dream, or perhaps to prove she actually existed. A stream of tears trickled down her finely-boned cheeks and waited under her chin.

  Delicate Rose turned with sad, distant eyes to see the doctor seated on a chair watching her intently.

  ~~~~

  Edouard gave her an encouraging look of approval. He was overjoyed to see her face contort ever so slightly into the briefest of smiles. He smiled warmly and begged for the music to return.

  He got his wish and jumped in a moment of brief fear when she sprang forward to touch his neck. A fine tingling of electricity ran through his body and he heard Eternal’s sweet lullaby in his mind. He remembered he had nicked his skin while shaving. With some libidinous excitement, he watched her lick her finger clean of his blood. This act didn’t shock him at all for it seemed so natural but he did have to shift in his seat from the aching, uncomfortable arousal.

  Her eyes once again darkened to the color of raven’s wings and her hair became infused with the faintest hint of deep burgundy. How can that be? How is it possible to change the color of one’s eyes and hair? For his true love, this was natural. He accepted it. He embraced it.

  Edouard shifted awkwardly, his erection making it difficult to sit straight. He could not take his eyes off her while she ran her fingertips sensually over her face. He drew in air in a suppressed intake to see those thin scratches on her face dissolve from the touch of her fingertips.

  She giggled, obviously at his unease. “They say the eyes are the windows to the soul. Do I have a soul, I wonder?” she said almost listlessly, as if not expecting an answer. She looked away from her reflection and into Edouard’s surprised face with a probing smile. “Tell me my true love, do you think beauty can be evil?”

  Edouard swam in the depths of her irresistible eyes, momentarily lost to the glorious darkness that engulfed his heart. Her music was heartbreakingly poignant. The need to make love to her overwhelmed him. Sweat burst from his brow and his erection strained to be buried in her.

  “No ... but I believe beauty cannot exist without a name.”

  She gave a sad smile and placed the mirror meticulously on the bed next to the brush. Her finger ran along the edge of the mirror.

  “Thank you. It means so much to me. It reminds of ....” She frowned, continuing to caress the frame of the mirror and sighed. “Why do you insist beauty must have a name?”

  Edouard cleared his throat. “What’s in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name should smell so sweet.” Why he said that he had no idea? Was it from his past? He noticed a slight shudder of recognition from her, perhaps she had heard of the Shakespearian sonnet. He removed the mirror and brush. Guilt rushed to his heart to see hurtful yearning crease her divine countenance. He was about to hand them to her when the music grew louder.

  She uttered a single word, “Rose?”

  Edouard was encouraged at last. “Go on.”

  She was obviously trying to remember something. “I remember him as if he were in this room with us right now.”

  “Him?” Edouard thought of the monster who had taken her from the florist. His jealous rage spiked but her demeanor was different, lacking fear. He relaxed.

  “Such sweet words ... such poetry. He would never have been anything more than a second rate author of comedies if not for my muse.”

  Edouard was intrigued and confused. “Continue.”

  “His lust for life destroyed his marriage and the more he took from me the more he desired. He pursued fame relentlessly and his addiction drove him to madness and despair.”

  Edouard perked up on hearing the word addiction. “Who are you talking about?”

  “Why ... Shakespeare, of course. You, my sweet Edouard came to me as Christopher Marlowe, the greatest writer England would have ever known.” She gasped and placed her head in her hands. She gave a forlorn look. “You died in a stupid brawl. My true love was gone ... killed by His hands.” She sighed with regret. “Once The Bard had become addicted to me, his writing soared with such passion, driving him to more fame. But it was time for me to move on.”

  Edouard could not believe his own ears but he had the good sense to listen. First, Lancelot du Lac, Paris then Christopher Marlowe – was she an immortal? Preposterous – but the pieces did fit perfectly into the puzzle. Eternal.

  “Where did you go from there?”

  “England became too uncomfortable for my kind. Shakespeare, the ungrateful cur, declared me a witch for leaving him. I escaped to France and travelled across Europe to Carpathia. But the simple villagers of the Carpathians were some of the most superstitious people I had ever met. I was hunted from valley to valley, across mountains of snow until I met the one person who accepted me for what I am ... Erzsebet, the bitch.”

  Edouard gasped. “Do you mean Erzsebet Bathory?” His stomach churned when she nodded yes. He shuddered at the thought of the Blood Countess. Images of virgins strung by their feet from rafters with throats slashed wide open shattered his composure. How could he know such things in vivid detail? He squirmed and gagged on bile to see thick rivers of blood run down a gulley into an awaiting bath.

  “Yes, Edouard ... she took me prisoner and used my bl ....” Eternal went blank with terror and froze.

  The images evaporated. Edouard immediately noticed her reversion to the more subdued personality. “Please continue.” Please come back, Eternal.

  “I can’t remember. I can’t.” She cried tears of frustration. Her face calmed, possibly as a memory surfaced. “A rose ... a delicate rose.”

  Edouard frowned, noticing a distinct change in his patient’s attitude and the return of the fine scratches, red and raw. Her eyes sank into their sockets smudged with sooty circles. Her transformation broke his heart.

  “Is your name ... Rose?” He thought of the rose at the florist and knew he was making progress.

  Rose nodded yes and suddenly shuddered. She looked at her arm in abject terror. “No ..
. not my blood. My blood is for my true love ... what does that mean?”

  Edouard convulsed at the thought of drinking warm blood straight from her body. His stomach coiled with revulsion at what that sick monster, Erzsebet had done. He could never debase himself in that way. Get a grip, you fool.

  And then it happened again – impossibly. Her scratches faded away, her eyes were a deep black and her hair had the sheen of ravens’ feathers. He swam in the limitless pools of her soul and drowned in her dark essence. Oh how sweet was her music. He was transfixed by Eternal’s beautiful face.

  “I am for you, Edouard. We will be eternal.”

  She gave a faint smile, opening her legs, deliberately revealing herself. “Come to me now and embrace all that I can give you.”

  Edouard stared between her legs and felt an irresistible urge to ravage her moist, dewy folds. She was ready for him, warm and wet, an open invitation.

  Now he knew beyond all doubt it was his destiny to be with her. His eyes locked onto her hypnotic gaze and slowly succumbed to her will. His trembling hand reached out to touch her, to experience her power but the scraping noise of the peephole snapped him out of his trance.

  Edouard sat back on the chair and frantically composed himself. He had to think of some innocuous question. “How do you know my first name?”

  She sighed with unabated passion, running fingers through her glorious burgundy hair. She licked one finger provocatively. “I have known you throughout the ages my true love. Now you are my Edouard.” She smiled ever so faintly.

  Edouard shivered when the music changed intensity to a lustful scream. Sickening images of blood feasting and erotic pleasures exploded in his brain. The heat of his unbridled passion soaked through his clothes. He heard her speak with the tongue of angels, a cacophony of whispers, dark and foreboding.

  She spoke directly into his mind, just like the first time they met. “The time is so close, my true love. We must prepare for the eternal bonding before He can stop us. For if The Dark One succeeds, there will be nothing but oblivion and despair.”

  A cold wind gripped Edouard’s soul forcing an intense shudder. The word Eternal whispered to his subconscious mind, awakening distant, nightmarish memories. He was reminded of that fiction novel, Dracula, with its lustful images of blood, orgies and the promise of eternal life. He wondered if she had mused Bram Stoker.

  “Are you now Eternal?”

  Edouard used every cell in his body to break free of her gaze. Was that her real name – Eternal? But Eternal could not be a name. He looked at the mirror still clenched in his hand and again thought of the book, Dracula. He knew it was childish but he had an irresistible impulse to try. He aimed the mirror in her direction and was relieved to see her reflection.

  “Where did we first meet?”

  Eternal shook her head in frustration. “I don’t need to tell you that, Edouard.” She looked frantically about her as if in imminent danger. “He is coming. I can feel him.”

  Edouard shuddered with her terror then sighed with exasperation for it was obvious she was in no danger. “Tell me more about him?” He waited for what seemed an eternity before his true love answered.

  Eternal shivered and grimaced with disgust. “He is a vile creature who hates all that is beautiful.” She looked desperately into his confused eyes. “He has vowed to take all my eternal blood for his own. You must promise to protect me, Edouard. My blood is for you alone.” She held her head in her hands and wept. Her brief release was over in a heartbeat. “The Eternal Moon is so close ... I must embrace her ... I can feel her life force guiding me ... I must be Eternal.”

  Edouard froze with fear and an all-consuming lust. Confusion washed over him. With deliberate intent he clasped her hand and felt the rapture take control. “Tomorrow will be the full moon on the sixth of June.” To his embarrassment he convulsed and released his seed, wetting the crotch of his pants.

  A sigh of relief escaped her lungs. “Tomorrow ... the mother moon is waiting to give birth to Eternal. We must leave now.”

  Edouard looked to the door then back to Eternal. He was so excited now they were getting somewhere. “What about this mother moon? What does she mean to you?”

  Eternal slipped her hand from Edouard’s grasp and stroked her hair in an almost childlike fashion and whispered, “The moon is calling to me. She is my mistress and my mother. It is my birthright to be Eternal.”

  He thought of bundling her in his arms and – and what? He knew he wouldn’t get ten feet beyond the door that prevented the only means of escape. He sighed heavily and got up from the chair. If any attempt to escape with her failed, there would not be a second chance.

  He still gripped the mirror and brush. Edouard involuntarily jumped back when Eternal reached for the mirror in a violent snap. He heard her power in his mind, followed by the sweet, dark music.

  “I want the mirror. It comforts me.”

  “I’m sorry but I cannot do that.”

  For the first time she laughed. “I see. You think I’ll break the glass and slit my wrists.” She shook her head. “Why would I take my own life so close to becoming Eternal? Why would I waste my precious blood so foolishly?”

  “Are you not Eternal right now?” Edouard’s eyes lit up with excitement and he sat back on the chair. “You must tell me.”

  She ignored him and returned to her chanting, “Eternal ... Eternal ... Eternal.”

  Edouard thought of the lustful images that momentarily flashed across his mind and knew beyond all doubt she had projected them to him. And yet his well-ordered mind insisted that was impossible.

  Edouard tapped the door and handed the brush and mirror to Nurse Marteau. The weight of her expectations sagged heavy on his shoulders. She had entrusted him to protect her, both as a lover and a doctor. Was he up to the task? He turned to her and sadly saw the subservient personality, Rose. The lustful music had ended. He left in a slump.

  Chapter 32

  Rose backed away from the hateful nurse’s advance.

  The nurse smiled sweetly. “Oh, you poor thing, you look so frail and weak. Would you like something to eat?”

  Rose didn’t acknowledge the nurse. She listened by the window, waiting for something terrible to happen and for the life of her she could not remember what that terrible thing was. But she knew it was coming and soon.

  “Very well then, you stupid bitch ... suit yourself. Starve, for all I care.” Nurse Marteau tugged Rose from the window. She tore the blanket away, cascading the room with intense shafts of brilliant light hotter than molten steel.

  Eternal ripped into Rose’s mind and took control. She struck out with flailing arms and hysterical screams. She struggled to rip the blanket from the startled demon witch’s hands.

  The hideous witch threw the blanket at Eternal and cowered with arms raised, trying to protect her face from sharp fingernails. She grabbed Eternal by a handful of hair and slapped her across the face. Eternal struggled with her.

  “Evil little bitch!” The vile witch slapped Eternal again. “That’s better.” The creature snarled vehemently while adjusting its uniform. It grabbed Eternal by the throat and spat in her face. “Let’s see you try that on Bonbon, my dear.”

  The witch tossed Eternal against the window bars and left the room. The door slammed with a crescendo that set off wails and screams from other tormented souls. Eternal covered her ears to shut out the infernal racket. Her mind searched for an outlet but instead discovered the witch’s vile thoughts.

  She saw the witch’s past deeds. She looked up at the bars covering the window and saw a female patient dangling from them, a knotted curtain around her neck which had been snapped by the male demon before the make-shift noose was applied. She jolted when her inner eye saw Bonbon rape the poor woman and break her neck like a twig. The witch stood in the shadows, watching, leering, chuckling.

  Eternal screamed away the horrific images. She covered the window once more with the blanket and resumed her vigil,
waiting for the inevitable. The bolt slid and the door creaked open.

  Eternal whirled in terror to see the male demon entering her room with a tray of vile food alien to her. The disgusting smell of the simple offering made her stomach heave and churn. She swallowed bitter bile and gripped her midriff to prevent vomiting.

  “You must eat pretty girl. Eat what Bonbon gives you. Nice pretty girl.” It placed the tray on the bed next to Eternal and furtively touched her foot. It’s free hand massaged its erection twitching in its cotton trousers.

  Eternal whimpered at the damp stain spreading around its agitated groin. She cringed in mind-numbing terror, her back to the wall.

  “Who’s been a naughty girl then, hmm?” the demon said with drool slithering from its puckering lips.

  She whimpered when its claws crawled up her leg like a spider. She slapped at the hand. The hand slapped her face and gripped her throat.

  Eternal could not draw air and franticly scrambled down the cot but the demon’s claws still gripped her. She backed to the window and slammed against the wall. The creature let go of her throat, popped a bonbon in its maw and dropped the sweets into its skin pouch flapping from its fat, hairy stomach crawling with infestation. It snuggled up to her.

  Eternal instinctively cringed in disgust. She shouted out, “No! He’s so close ... he’s here. No ... Don’t let him take me.”

  The demon looked around the room with a perplexed look. “There’s no one here but Bonbon. Let Bonbon help you.” The vile thing ran its clammy hand up her leg. It pulled back her hair and licked the nape of her neck with its stinking black tongue covered in bubbling boils. A trembling hand went in between her legs.

  Self-preservation took control. Eternal withdrew into her dream world of nightmares past. She didn’t respond to the demon’s disgusting molestation. She didn’t know it was there for all she saw was Him – The Count! The Count was here for his final act of bloodletting. He stood before her in his long black coat and gleamed his fangs.

  Eternal’s scream was cut off by the demon’s filthy hand. She could smell its sex on calloused, scaly fingers.