Voracious Vixens, 13 Novels of Sexy Horror and Hot Paranormal Romance
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“Yes, I had come upon a lair of thieves and murderers too, make no mistake. Some were crippled while others made themselves out to be. There was good money in begging as crippled folk. There still is, but not as much as there used to be. I was taught too, the art of pick pocketing. It is not something I am proud of, but I did it in order to survive. As I have said I will tell you of my creation, so I will. I died at the end of a rope and like you I was raised up.”
I assumed he was created in the way I was. However that was not the case.
“A sorcerer and necromancer raised me up. I was ill for many days, having had no idea where I was or what had happened. I did recall the hanging and the pain. But what I took to be unconsciousness really turned out to be death. When I was fairly alert I became aware of a man, an odd looking man robed in the strangest attire. When I took him for a monk, he laughed.”
“That is the last thing I am or ever shall be, lad.” He would tell me he was a sorcerer and necromancer.
His house turned out to be a veritable kingdom of the dead. Not the undead, Justine, the dead, sitting around and moving about too.
“I make them do as I wish. They are compliant and ask for little.”
“I saw men and women, people of all ages there. It did strike me that there were more men than women. When I remarked that there was no stench he laughed.”
“I don’t keep them for long periods. Lately, I have taken to creating vampires, I saw your hanging and I knew I should create you. Being a vampire you will have to subsist on blood. I will bring it to you until you are able to go on your own predatory feeds.”
“Yes, that is what he said. And now it is time for you to feed as well.”
He turned then to hand me a goblet of blood as he pointed to a young girl lying half senseless. “It is from her. She will live for a day or two yet. Go and drink.”
I refused it and turned away from him. He only laughed. “You’ll be begging me for it soon enough!”
He was right. I did beg him when I could no longer stand the awful pain and suffering. I drank and drank until the girl was drained. That was the first time I saw the visions. As you have done with me—we see the lives of those we sup on. “Do not worry,” he said. “I will get you more tomorrow.”
He told me to sleep, that it was the best thing. I think from that moment on, sleep was a haven to me, a welcome darkness that offered temporary respite.
CHAPTER 8
I would sleep as the others did. But for now, Gascoyne kept me away from them. He said it was best. After all, he said I had returned with hell’s taint.
Hell’s taint, indeed. All I wished to do was seek vengeance against the man that had seduced me. No, I cared not that he had saved me from a murder charge. I didn’t even think of it. I had loved him and he used me. He was married and didn’t tell me and me, a virgin.
To the great hero, Count Oriani! I was nothing, a seamstress that had murdered, an orphan, part of the flotsam of Paris—a non-person, a girl to be used as he wished. A man like that wouldn’t care. If I was that in life, I was less than that now—I was a demon’s demon!
The rage I felt began to fester as I planned what I would do. No matter how long it took I would get back at him! I would go to that grand mansion of his Anna told me about and get my revenge.
Would his wife be there—could I get her too—both of them at once and the unborn child? Who cared about it? I didn’t. The Justine that emerged as undead without a beating heart cared not! Perhaps I did have the taint. If I did, I reasoned, I would be proud of it. If I existed on blood, I began to subsist too on hatred, hatred that showed.
When Gascoyne brought me within the coven and I was allowed to mingle, it pleased me to see how fearful Carmen was of me. She kept out of my way and it pleased me. A rage-filled creature existed and in close proximity to her. My eyes followed her around. I enjoyed watching her cower and grow pale. When I noticed Gascoyne watching me at such times, I’d look away, best not to show my hand yet with regard to anything for I was already planning my revenge.
My time was not my own. Mainly I rested. Gascoyne tended to me as the others did. Not Carmen although it gave me immense pleasure to watch her fetch things for the others to give to me.
During this time, Gascoyne watched me. I tried to look interested in what I was told. He was teaching me about the change, the transition as he called it. He was master of his coven. “A natural leader,” he confessed with a self-effacing shrug. He admitted it made him proud. “I do care about those I protect, genuinely and deeply.”
Carmen I knew without being told was his lover or had been. That was going to change because I was going to destroy her.
There were other females too, shy pale quiet creatures who hid in the shadows mainly. Few of them spoke to me or even looked my way. It pleased me to think I was gaining quite a reputation.
There were few males that looked older than the females. Naturally that depended upon the age they were when they were turned. Gascoyne told me they had all perished at the end of a rope. The females had died the same way. I realized they had been part of the band of thieves Gascoyne had been part of. I asked him about it.
“Yes,” he said drawing my attention to each of his coven members. He rattled off their names and they nodded as he did. “Jean Claude was this and Imogen was that.” He shook his head sadly. “I tell you a person’s neck was stretched for a shoe lace stolen or a loaf of bread in those days. Things were bad yes, the poor have always suffered.”
He pointed out a couple to me. “That is Eket and Koren they loved in life and continue to in death. Casca is the eldest... he is from ancient times.”
A male I hadn’t noticed before suddenly appeared. “I have seen in my life time, Roman emperors and gladiators ... odd that I would perish in my dotage and be raised by a Greek master of the occult.” He shook his head. “I think he raised me in order to converse with me on matters of philosophy. Ironic those Barbarian hordes got him,” he sighed.
“Casca is our resident philosopher. He found me along the way. And I’m glad he did. There were eleven in our coven, now there are twelve with you,” Gascoyne said.
So, I was the twelfth vampire.
****
I didn’t realize it then, but I enjoyed his company, when he’d sit and speak to me, telling me of his living life and trying to help me adjust to this new existence. He asked me many times if the look he saw in my eyes was anger at him for raising me. I said it was...I did this to deflect any curiosity about my plans to destroy Carmen. Oriani was my own business.
“I am sorry, then. Perhaps you will forgive me one day for raising you...”
“Let me just come into my own,” I replied. “A year you say? That is quite a long time. Tell me, Gascoyne—when do you think I might go outside?”
“I will take you feeding soon. Meanwhile there is enough of a store here.”
There was too. Although it would be some time before I would see it.
****
My new abode was a crypt in an old abandoned church. There were a number of abandoned churches in Paris in those days. Gascoyne and his coven occupied the place for years. It was safe he said, having been forgotten in the mists of time. I liked his choice of words and told him so.
It was a place I became accustomed to quickly. Whatever sensitivity I had as the living Justine I no longer had. I had become a different sort of creature, my home a different sort of home. It was a crypt and it was cold and dusty and filled with rats. I could hear them scurrying about. They never bothered any of us. One disgusting predator knows another.
Whatever was told to me I accepted. I had few questions. All I wanted to do was carry out my hate-filled plan. It never occurred to me to think anything could go wrong. I was too intent on my murderous purpose of killing Oriani. Yes, Oriani I would kill first.
At first I thought to leave during a feeding. But then I realized it wasn’t feasible. It would have to be done at some other time. Perhaps after a feed
ing.
Gascoyne had taken me to feed quite a few times. We’d lie in wait until some hapless people came our way. We’d pounce on them, dragging them into an alley where we would feed. Not at our leisure but quickly, ever watchful and mindful of being discovered.
Now for the first time, I became aware of Destroyers, the scourge of the vampire. What I hadn’t realized, was how vampires differed. I found that out when I told Gascoyne about the wolves that had killed me and he laughed.
“Those weren’t wolves, my girl. Those were rogue vampires.”
He went on to explain Rogues were different than we were.
“They are wilder than the Ferals that inhabit Transylvania. Even those wild monsters don’t eat flesh. Yes, unlike real vampires, Rogues feast not only on blood, but on flesh too. They are a breed unto themselves. Some say they are the offspring of demons and vampires. Had we not scared them away, they’d have cannibalized you and it would have been too late. We could have done nothing for you. We must be cautious. The Destroyers are about now...they rose up because the Rogues are back. They are a danger to our kind, wild and uncontrollable.”
He thought I was frightened, when in fact all I could think of was sneaking away to murder Count Oriani.
****
The opportunity finally presented itself. One night when we fed particularly well is when I did it. We had waylaid a contingent of soldiers. There was extra fun tearing their throats open and draining them. Some of the coven took souvenirs of buttons and medals.
Gascoyne admonished them. “Leave no trail,” he warned.
We rushed away then—well before dawn. A pack of blood bloated vampires, heavy with our feed, intent on returning to our crypt there to sleep amongst the dust and decay.
I waited until I saw everyone was asleep, whereupon I rose, rushing along as fast as I could, I flew up the stairs. Yes flew, for I had already been shown how to do that.
It wasn’t long before I was standing in front of the finest house in Faubourg Saint-Germain. A house I found to my horror was empty!
“They’ve gone to England,” a man said. I looked to see a scruffy looking elderly man, clearly a dustman early for his rounds. “I don’t know any more than that...”
England? I thought well, I would bide my time.
CHAPTER 9
Biding my time or not, I was furious. Rage flowed through me like an angry sea. I was so preoccupied with Oriani and his family having left Paris, I didn’t care if I was seen when I returned to the crypt.
As it happened no one was awake. I had just made it as the sun was starting to rise. I hurried to my own coffin. My mind turned over what had happened. I wondered where they had gone to in England. It wasn’t that far I knew. Someday somehow I’d get there. Gascoyne would be fairly easy to manipulate I was certain of it. I’d employ seduction.
This pleased me, this way to control another and a vampire at that! Something I had never felt before coursed through me. I thought of Gascoyne and smiled. He was handsome enough—it wouldn’t be unpleasant to have sex with him. As I lay there I imagined how I would feel as I recalled the shape of his lips and his eyes. They were large and black. His skin was the color of cream—all vampires are pale, but his was tinged with something else, just a hint of tawniness. It could have been from a recent feed, I wasn’t certain.
If I had power over him I’d first have to defeat that bitch of a vampire, Carmen. I recalled all too vividly the feel of her slap, the sting of it but at least she feared me now.
I was lying in my tomb when I heard something. Someone was moving about the crypt. I heard it plainly, footsteps and the rustling of fabric. I was on my feet in a moment. I didn’t see her at first. Then I saw movement in the shadows. She must have felt my eyes upon her because she turned quickly.
I grinned when Carmen gasped and fled into another chamber. There were many I knew, though I hadn’t seen the whole of our dwelling place, I knew it to be vast—full of tunnels and passageways. Gascoyne said it had been that way from ancient times.
We both could move fast, but I outran her and was upon her in a moment. I said nothing, I only sank my teeth into the back of her neck. She fell, paralyzed. I let her lie there staring wildly, her eyes pleading. She even begged. I said nothing. Not a word passed between us. In fact there was no sound, just the noise of me sucking her dry.
I fed viciously and voraciously. Her blood tasted of wine. I was able to tell what her last feed was like. I saw images of her living life—a life spent in poverty and want. I saw her death too yet I felt nothing. And when Gascoyne raised her I felt jealous.
When she was drained, I tore her head off. It wasn’t easy, but I managed. I flung it against the wall where it rolled a few times until at last it came to a stop. Her eyes were half open, just starting to glaze over.
I knew the others were up, I had heard them—even when I continued my savagery. Clearly Gascoyne was not among them or he would have stopped me or tried to.
“Justine!”
So he was there now. I turned and smiled madly at him. “What do you want?”
He looked horrorstruck. The coven looked frightened. He wasn’t. He was angry if anything and shook me. “How dare you!”
I only laughed. “Bitch!” he cried. He pushed me so hard I fell over backwards. Still I laughed loud and raucous cackles for I was extremely pleased with myself. “I’d do it again.”
That did it. He moved so quickly even I was surprised. His slap was fierce. “Is that the best you can do?” I asked.
He reached over to pull me up but only succeeded in tearing my gown from me. I saw his eyes sweep across my naked breasts. Then taking some of Carmen’s blood from my chin, I smeared it on both my breasts.
We eyed one another there in the company of the coven. There wasn’t a sound. I sat there waiting for him, smiling at him. He was upon me in a moment but there was nothing sexual about it. He was too angry.
The coven had moved closer so as not to miss anything. I was stretched out when he tore at my hair, bending my head backward, he sank his teeth into my neck. But then he stopped himself. Instead of biting he was kissing me and fondling me at the same time.
I stretched out waiting for more. He began to lick the blood off my breasts then Carmen’s blood. I laughed while he did.
In front of the coven, he took me every way that he could. When I thought he would stop, he whispered what he wished me to do to him. As I obeyed and took him into my mouth I was happy for this gave me ultimate power over him. I’d be able to get whatever I wished of him.
Now, because I was giving him pleasure, his coven moved away—so that I began to suck and feed at the same time, just little bites, not enough to hurt him, just enough to feed.
“I will love you forever,” he panted.
I made no answer, only stared at him, certain that he would.
****
His touch was magic and if I thought I had the upper hand, I realized too that I enjoyed the lovemaking—if it could be called that. Frankly I doubted it. It was fucking pure and simple.
“You are my wench now, for I will have no other.”
I told him I was grateful. “I will always be yours to obey.”
He knew what that meant. A master’s vampire wench is a sex slave.
“But I want more than that ...I want all you can offer.”
I smiled. So he didn’t just wish sex—he wanted love too. Love or lust, whatever I could give him now that I was vampiric.
We fed together that night. Just us in the food store. It was the first time I saw it. Cavernous it was, with bloodied and bitten semi-conscious human beings chained throughout. The coven went to feed too, but only after Gascoyne said they could. As for us, we fed together.
There was a young man off to the side. He hadn’t been fed upon, it was evident. Gascoyne motioned me to go first so I did, sinking my teeth into the man’s neck. His blood tasted sweet —clearly he was the freshest feed there. It was an honor to be given his blood.
We did drain him. And as we did, I saw glimpses of the life of a dying man. After it, we lay in each other’s arms and spoke until dawn. I think we’d have made love too, but we were too satiated with blood.
It was then that he began to speak of clubs. It was the first I heard of the blood clubs. “They are all about. Humans come to be fed on. It gives them sexual pleasure.”
That shocked me for times were bad. Is that what human beings were getting up to?
As if he knew what I was thinking, he answered. “It started with the aristocrats. They’d come incognito to be pleasured and fed upon. They too like to feed. Those that perished were made vampiric. Others were just disposed of.” He smiled and his expression thrilled me for I thought I saw a love of violence there. Perhaps we had more in common than I originally thought.
“I will show you the club tomorrow. Yes, Justine. I am involved in them—the coven is as well—there is a place we go to...it is near the river. It is secret. Should you like to see it?”
I took his hand and kissed it. Then I put his fingers in my mouth and began to nibble and suck at the same time. He knew what my answer was. He knew how much I craved sex as I knew myself.
CHAPTER 10
We disposed of Carmen the next night. It was easy. Gascoyne threw her body into a cellar. “The rats will take care of everything...”
And so they did. They swarmed over her drained corpse as we watched. If I thought he was capable of evil, I was assured he was now, for he had me stand naked before him.
“Turn around,” he said. “I have done this before but now I shall enjoy it more.”
As Carmen’s corpse was eaten by rats I was made love to by Gascoyne. He took me from behind. Each thrust was greater than before. Time seemed meaningless. He whispered what he was doing and how he was enjoying it. “It is all part of the darkness,” he said. “The world you are in now. You might as well get used to it. Besides, mon amor,” he whispered, “You make me worse than I am.”