sanguineangels

by Various

  “Scream and you die. Understand?”

  She nodded. My hand automatically stroked her jugular. The fear ran hot in her blood, along with stoked passion. I brought my nose close to her skin, drinking in the vanilla.

  “What are you?” she asked.

  “I’m your death, little one. You’ve come into my waiting hands. How sad for you!”

  “Please,” she whimpered. She was pathetic like my meat-loving counterpart.

  Saliva dripped from my fangs as I thought of the sweet liquid moving in her veins. I let the drool elongate and dribble down my chin. “Please what?”

  “Don’t kill me.”

  “It’s a little too late for that, but since you are being such a good human, I’ll make it painless.”

  I projected my thoughts into my victim’s mind, wrapping around her brain as if I were a ball of yarn entangling myself. I didn’t bother to look at her thoughts. I didn’t need them to savor her blood. Something about her felt familiar. I dismissed the feeling and licked her throat.

  She was sweet, tasting like cinnamon, a flavor I enjoyed.

  Oh, she would be good.

  I opened my mouth and sunk my teeth into her waiting throat, closing my eyes in the ecstasy of her. I swallowed a mouthful. At that moment, Veronica screamed. Her personality surged forward, pushing me back into my cage.

  Chapter Fifteen

  My name is Veronica.

  Oh, God! Brenna!

  Dislodging my fangs, I backed away into the darkness. My rationality returned as I forced myself into human form. Ronnie, the part of me that had been nurtured by Devon, cried out for her blood, but she was locked away again. However, just because my alter ego had been in control didn’t mean I wasn’t aware of what she had done. The man she devoured would haunt my dreams for centuries.

  I spit out the last of Brenna’s blood, wiping the back of my hand across my mouth, cleaning away the remains of her.

  She mustn’t see me. How could I ever confront her again? What would she do if she saw me totally unmasked?

  My thoughts still encompassed hers. She was conscious, wondering what had happened. I couldn’t go to her now, even to soothe her. No, I needed time to think.

  Forgive me.

  I lashed out, shutting her mind off like a switch, pushing her deep into unconsciousness.

  Then I went to her crumpled form and picked her up. She was so frail. The wounds I’d inflicted were still bleeding. They would heal. Her heartbeat thundered in my ears; she was nowhere near death. I brushed away a piece of hair that had fallen in her face, admiring Brenna’s innocence in sleep. A tear spilled from my eyes as I cajoled myself for damaging her.

  “My, my. I guess you haven’t totally forgotten what you are after all.”

  I glanced over at the voice and saw Devon reclining at the wrought iron table, his legs crossed and his arms over his chest. The wounds on his face had begun to heal, but slowly. A film resided over the hole. Blue veins brought blood to his scarred face. The membrane was transparent, and I saw his tongue through the healing cheek. His eye was cataract white as it also regenerated. I hugged Brenna close.

  “I haven’t forgotten what I am.”

  “She’s good, isn’t she? I knew you’d like her,” he whispered in my ear. He moved across the courtyard, showing off as he always did, thinking he was better than me.

  His arms wrapped around my chest as he crushed me to him. Devon was hard through his jeans, but no passion ignited in me. He took one of his lengthened fingernails and moved it along the side of Brenna’s cheek, causing a line of blood to well up. The smell hit me, hard, and I almost moaned. Ronnie roared inside my mind. The tip of his finger traced my mouth. Blood settled on the ridges of my lips. I dared not move. The beast howled inside my mind for release as everything in me craved to lick his finger clean. The muscles danced in my back, and I felt my eyes changing color, bleeding black. I shuddered in my skin. It took all my strength to hold the beast back, but I did.

  “Damn you, Devon,” I whispered.

  He laughed. “You say that a lot, but it’s not me who’s damned. I accept what I am. It’s you who wallow in this misery while denying what you are. It’s a sin. You shouldn’t try so hard to be like them. Accept what you are and come back to me. Then it’ll be all better. You’ll think that this was all a daymare. And if you come back now, then I’ll not punish you too harshly. Of course, you’ll have to sacrifice your pet. What do you say?”

  The beast in me called to its Master, yearning to feel Devon pat its head. It didn’t care about using Brenna as a meal to show obedience. I was more than my monster, and Devon was no longer my master.

  “Go to hell.” I jabbed my elbow into his stomach, dislodging his hold on me. I allowed my wings to grow so I could get away from him. Away from the city.

  “For now.” He coughed, catching his breath. “But remember, I’ll find you no matter where you go. I’m the one who made you. You’re mine.”

  I didn’t acknowledge him. What he said was true. He’d hunt me until I was his consort again. When he ensnared me, he wouldn’t kill me. His torture would be endless and worse than having maggots in my face. There were no ends to the things he would do to me. I’d seen him keep victims alive for days, bleeding them slowly, savoring their fear. I’d witnessed him pouring boiling oil over prey just to watch the flesh melt away. I didn’t want to think what he would do to Brenna if I went back to him. I wouldn’t let that happen.

  No. I shook my head. I grabbed Brenna as my wings propelled me out of New Orleans.

  I didn’t know where I was going. I was just flying to safety into the sunrise, praying I could make it. I wasn’t impervious to its rays, but that didn’t matter. Brenna was my priority. So I flew off, letting my instincts carry me cloaked through the night.

  Part Three

  Judgment

  Chapter Sixteen

  My name is Brenna.

  The first thing I saw when I opened my eyes was a crumbling plaster ceiling, yellowed and flaking with age. The odor of rot and must had tattooed itself to everything. I blinked, knowing it wasn’t my apartment. I didn’t know where I was, but I was alive. That was the most important thing.

  I ran my hands through my hair. My fingers grazed my cheek and sent pain screaming to my brain. The long ridge of a scab traced the base of my jaw. I assumed I’d gotten it in my fall. To make sure I hadn’t dreamed the whole event, I felt for the two wounds the monster had inflicted in my neck, and I found them, two small holes, puncture wounds. It dawned on me what had attacked me. A vampire.

  Fuck!

  All I needed was to have another vampire in my life. It was bad enough I had one who was jealous of others I associated with. Vampires. I’d had enough of them. Whatever mask I’d worn before to trick those around me, I couldn’t reattach. Too many things had happened. It was time for me to be a plain old human. Funny how a brush with death makes one think rationally.

  I shook my head as I swung my legs over the bed.

  The springs creaked, sending an explosion of dust in my face. I coughed as it settled around me. Scanning the room, I noticed a sheet over a chair next to a fireplace. Dust blanketed the hardwood floor like snow. The walls, like the ceiling, were stained yellow from age and water damage. The drapes were moth-eaten. Pinpoints of light showed through the holes and allowed me enough light to see by. The faint beeping of horns and jackhammers echoed through the glass. I wandered over to the window and pushed back the drapes, wincing at the sunlight that streamed onto my face. I looked down and saw people walking along the street. Some looked to be students rushing to class. Gazing across the way, I saw similar houses, each in various stages of disrepair. Some had small, gated gardens, while others sported steps leading right to the sidewalk. I smiled. This was a familiar neighborhood, one I’d spent four years running through to get to my classes. Somehow I’d gotten back to Boston.

  Cain crossed my mind. He was from Boston. I didn’t know from which part, but maybe
he had brought me back? I hugged myself, remembering the feel of him inside me. Yes, I could stay with him forever, as long as he desired me. I could make him happy. We could enjoy nights together, and I would do anything he wanted. I’d never thought of anyone that way, and I was grateful for that.

  My mood darkened when I remembered Veronica. She was a problem. She could be cold. What would she do to Cain if we decided to build a life together? I shivered at the thought of seeing her in the full transformation she had hinted at. She might have been pissed, but she would never take me as a meal. I meant something to her. I was the creature to break down her walls and get to the being inside. No, she would not hurt me, but I feared for Cain. Their confrontation the other night hadn’t been pleasant. Her anger directed her actions as she tried containing everything she was. I wondered if she had failed, and if she had, what had she done to Cain?

  I didn’t know the answer. I would have to wait and see. When I saw her again, she’d tell me the truth. If not, I’d force her to. I had some power over her. Of course, my psychic abilities were nothing compared to hers, but I could manipulate her.

  I moved further into the light, watching as the people walked by, unaware of the creatures that moved among them in society. I’d always know vampires now, the unnatural look in the eyes, and the throbbing hunger just beneath the surface of their masked faces. Only some of them were like Veronica. Most ravaged anything they got their hands on, like the one that attacked me. When I felt its breath against my neck, I knew it was the end. Then it had stopped, throwing me aside. Why?

  A moan interrupted my train of thought. Pushing the curtains farther open, I noticed a bed hidden on the far side of the room where the light didn’t penetrate. I moved cautiously and saw Veronica’s naked, sleeping form. I went to her, careful not to make any noise in case I woke her. The closer I got, the more I caught the smell of burnt meat. Most of her back was seared black around the edges. I wondered when she had gotten burned so badly. Pieces of skin littered the bed as it flaked off. The skin that wasn’t damaged was lobster pink and scarred. I reached my hand to feel the texture of the flesh. Parts of it peeled off, showing alabaster white perfection underneath. Tentatively, I touched my finger to the new skin. It was warm, almost as though she had been in a hot shower. The burned skin was cold and clammy. That was unusual. I assumed all of her flesh should still be radiating heat, and sensitive to the touch. When I got scorched it hurt well after I iced it down. The burn marks on her back were frigid, dead marks. The more I observed, the quicker they healed, the skin falling off even in the places I had touched.

  I caught a glimpse of her face and saw the rawness of it. It didn’t seem her front was as bad as her back had been. The burn resembled a strange tattoo, creating a design in her already healing flesh. I wondered what had happened to her. Had she gotten this damaged trying to protect me? Had she gotten it when she fought with Cain? I didn’t know. Watching her heal reassured me somewhat.

  She didn’t breathe, didn’t even move. She was perfectly stiff, like a corpse in its coffin. I placed my hand over her mouth to feel for any moisture. There was nothing. I checked along her neck to find a pulse, but yet again, nothing. Her body was lifeless as it healed, as she slept somewhere lost in a dreamland I didn’t understand.

  I sighed and got up. Part of me wanted to explore the house, to revisit some of my old haunts. I wondered how the Tearoom faired, considering I wasn’t slotted to return until Halloween. I volunteered my services for Edmund’s annual séance. Why I had, I didn’t know, but it was an obligation and part of me wanted to see my old friends again. It was a bonus I was back early and could figure out my arrangements with Edmund, considering I expected him to pay me.

  I wanted to confide in Edmund everything that had happened. Maybe he could help answer some of my questions. Of course, if I asked him for advice, he would answer he couldn’t give it to me because he knew me too well. That was bullshit. I knew he could read me; he just wouldn’t want to. As much as I wanted to run to him for some sort of normalcy, I couldn’t desert Veronica. She was too vulnerable to be left alone, at least until she healed. From the looks of things, there was no one in the house. Though my feelings about her were undefined, I didn’t want to take a chance that a homeless person might discover her resting place.

  I rose from the bed and worked my way around the room. Two doors stood opposite me. One of them was a closet. I opened that and went inside. To my surprise I found a pull cord for the light and yanked it. The closet wasn’t very big, but it held a few dresses, each in their own dry cleaning bags, reminding me of body bags. Picking one up, I examined it through the plastic. It was a white dress. Lace ruffled the collar and the hem. The dress was in remarkable condition, except it was yellowed and had holes in a few places that I saw. Extensive beadwork had been sewn around the sleeves, and on inspection I noticed they were pearls. This dress was not a costume as I originally thought, but a wedding dress.

  I replaced the dress and leafed through a few of the others in back, but there was nothing of interest. Glancing up at the top shelf, I saw a black, modern suitcase and a wooden box next to it. I stood on tiptoe and grabbed both. I opened the suitcase first and found nothing more than a few pairs of clothes. Mostly black jeans, T-shirts, and a few bras. I guessed this was for emergencies. I examined the box next. It was a simple, wooden jewelry box, something to keep mementos in.

  I opened it slowly, in case any spiders crawled out. I hated them and didn’t want any arachnids jumping out at me. They couldn’t hurt me, but it didn’t help my state of mind. A hint of cedar wafted from the box as I opened it. On top was a small gold circlet. A ring. I inspected it, and for the hell of it, I let it slide onto my finger. The coolness shocked me, but the ring was slightly too big. I took it off and held it up to a beam of light streaming through the holey curtains. I tried to make out the inscription, but it was so worn away I couldn’t make it out.

  I put the ring down and unwrapped a bundle tied with a green ribbon. I peeled back the fabric and found an intricately woven necklace. Tiny braids of human hair made up the chain. I’d only heard of such objects being made for the wealthy and usually given to a loved one. I gingerly picked up the heirloom, wondering who had made it.

  “It was from my sister. Her gift to me when I was going to be married. The ring was from Devon.”

  I nearly dropped the piece of human jewelry when I heard the voice. I caught myself and placed it in the box before I turned to look at Veronica. Her face retained a slight pink color, but nothing else. I wondered what her back was like. Before I could say anything, she got out of bed, stretching like a cat. She walked over to the suitcase and pulled out a shirt and a pair of jeans.

  With her back to me, I was able to examine her wounds. Most of it had returned to normal, except for a few splotches of red here and there. Other than that, she was perfect.

  She ran her hands though her hair, testing the length of it. In legend, vampires’ nails and hair grew every time they slept. Then again, they weren’t supposed to walk about in the daylight and I had seen her do that. I watched as her nails lengthened and sharpened and she cut off the ponytail so she was left with hair down to her shoulders. Veronica picked up the hair, along with a trail of dust, and threw it into the fireplace.

  I gazed at the place where her hair had fallen. The wood was darker than the rest. I thought at first it was the stain or age of the wood, but something about the color caught my eye. It was too dark, too reddish-brown. There was a huge spot by the fireplace and another by the window. Something about it was just wrong. I placed my hands on the spot, ignoring Veronica. Closing my eyes I opened my mind. Memories of pain and anguish swamped me as they once filled the room so many years ago.

  The pictures that flooded my mind were hazy, like looking though a clouded window. My body went rigid as I began reliving the events of the past. I witnessed a woman go to a window to let in a man. He looked familiar to me somehow, but I couldn’t place him. The g
irl was happy to see her lover. He had sneaked in before they were supposed to be together. Then the vision changed. There was no longer love and surprise associated with the woman. A demon stood over the cowering girl, its grin burned into her mind. It took her innocence in unbridled ecstasy, damning her soul while a part of her wanted him to fuck her to death.

  My body bucked in response to the orgasms the demon inflicted upon her. The sensations were still embedded in the wood after so many years. And then everything went still.

  The body I was in had no feeling, but I saw and heard everything around me. I was dead, or at least the woman I had picked up on had expired. She hadn’t totally crossed over to the other side because her consciousness lingered in the flesh. I tried breathing, but couldn’t. My hand flew to my throat. I sensed Veronica held me in some capacity, but I couldn’t see her.

  All I perceived was the warmth coming into my body. The immobility I experienced was passing away, everything coming alive. The coals threw off warmth in the hearth, and then I saw the body on the bed. It was warm and could sate the devouring pain in me.

  In my vision, I pounded my fist into the body’s chest. I drank and drank, not thinking of anything else. When the ghost of the past finished with the prey, the hunger no longer burned in me. Something was wrong. When I looked down at my hands I saw the blood. The blood of my sister, Veronica’s sister. On my hands, on her hands.

  I screamed; we screamed.

  The visions and emotions overloaded my mind. They meshed and pushed against my thoughts. The psychic impressions tried to suck my awareness back to the past, melding my thoughts to the past Veronica. I tried wrenching my hand away from the floor, but it seemed the liquid was wet again after two centuries, and it didn’t want to let me go.