by Alana Melos
I retreated back into my own head, and Nazferatu stopped, his cock still rock hard in me, though it had grown warmer with the blood he’d taken in. I panted, feeling the trickle of warmth slip down over my skin, sliding down the curve of my back.
All of this had happened in an instant. I saw no warmth or emotion in his eyes. In his mind, the threads shifted, finding new spots… and fading or growing, bending back to their original position. They didn’t make it all the way there; some of the changes stayed, enough so that he stayed his hand in killing me.
“What did you do?” he hissed. His talons retreated until his bare fingers caressed my bloody skin.
“Made you listen,” I whispered. And he had. “I made you mine.” And I had. A rush of power thrilled through me. I still saw him in my mind, clear as a winter’s day, and I had changed him. I had done this thing to this strong willed ancient vampire. Oh, sure, the pink was nearly red again, the white all but disappeared, but I had made him stop. I had wrought my will upon his. I was superior.
Our desire still needed to be sated, and as he fucked me, he licked at the wounds he’d made. The dance of his tongue on the edge of that sweet bite made me moan as I sunk into the sensations. I drank them in, taking control of what was mine, of what should have always been mine. The heady rush of power mingled with my ecstasy, and I came a few moments after. He continued to plough into me as I rubbed his pleasure, adding it to my own. I drank his sensations down, feeding the bottomless pit in my mind, channeling his lust to extend my orgasm. I writhed around him, pulling his cool body closer to me, as if I were trying to make us one. In a sense, we were, but it wasn’t shared… it wasn’t equal. It was mine. It was all mine.
I didn’t allow him to explode with his own ecstasy until my pleasure had begun to wane. When I needed more, only then did I give him leave to orgasm. The dominance, the taking control, and owning him pleased me more than anything else, sating my hunger. When it turned sharp and the urge to consume him utterly returned, I cut the connection and let him finish inside of me, striving to bury his thick length to the hilt as his talons dug into me once more, holding me close.
Almost as soon as he came, he withdrew, his eyes sharp and suspicious. Though I lay physically the weaker, and I clamped a hand over my neck to slow the bleeding, he knew I was stronger, that I’d violated him….
I blinked at the realization. I’d sought to protect myself from him violating me, from trying to turn me into one of the undead and killing me by accident, but I’d violated him instead. The rush of power crashed down, taking me with it and I opened my mouth to apologize. He grabbed his jacket and disappeared into smoke, leaving me alone with the bitter disgust at my actions in my mouth.
“Fuck,” I muttered, reeling from the realization. I’d broken one of my rules, to never mind control someone. I’d done it without thought. I took it upon myself to make him do what I wanted, from which he had no defense. And I’d gotten off on it. The power was incredible. Indescribable. If it took one of my core tenets, changing me in the process, was it worth it?
Chapter Fifteen
I cleaned up and dressed. Once I was presentable, I stood up and put a hand to my temple as the room spun. Considering my activities, t was from blood loss. Glancing around, I saw the furniture out of place and the blood spattered in haphazard patterns. A shiver ran through me, and I felt more exposed now than I was when I was naked. This place had eyes. I had no doubts the witch had gotten her chuckles watching Nazferatu and I fuck. Oh well. Let her.
When I took a step, the room spun once more. I couldn’t tell if the hut was moving or if it had come to its destination. I hoped it was still moving, then I would have an excuse for the dizziness. I straightened the room so as not to be a total bitch to our host, and thought about Nazferatu. The vampire would help. Even with my mental tinkerings and his sore feelings, I thought he’d keep his word. For now. I think he wanted his people back too badly to betray me.
Turning towards the rough kitchen area, I was surprised to find an old woman puttering around. On shaky legs, I moved there, crossing many yards in a single step. This proportion thing was going to annoy the fuck out of me eventually, but for right now, I was glad it took only a second to be by the rough table. I leaned on it since there were no chairs and studied the infamous witch.
Nosferatu might be old, but he didn’t look it since he switched hosts. If she had been alive for as long as he had, she definitely looked it. Her hands were the first bit of flesh I saw, wizened and thin, looking like rumpled tan linen. Each of her nails were long, hooked towards the end, and stained yellow. When she turned, her nose protruded out longer than anyone’s had a right to. It comically dominated her face, sharpening down into a point at the end like, well, like a cartoon witch’s. Her skin was the same rumpled, lined affair of her hands, but possessed deeper grooves where laugh and worry lines were supposed to be. Her hair was thick and white, looking to be the healthiest thing about her. It lay across her shoulders, twisted into a complex braid. Her eyes were brown, dark and deep as if they contained the secrets of the universe. Maybe they did.
Her clothing was that of what I would imagine a simple Russian peasant wore back in the Dark Ages. The skirt was dark brown and full, making her thin body look bigger as the hem flared as she walked. There were designs embroidered at the hem in bright colors, but the pleats of the skirt cascaded over them continually as she moved so I couldn’t make them out. Her blouse was as white as her hair, soft and light, leaving the skin around her clavicles bare. There was even a hint of withered cleavage.
Other than her enormous nose, she didn’t look that impressive. When I opened my mind and brushed against hers weakly with my telepathy, a jolt shot through me. She didn’t shield her thoughts, not in the slightest. Rather, her mind was so bright and vibrant it stunned me. Though she moved slowly as she ground herbs up in a mortar, her mind raced along at lightning speed, tracking down what looked like a hundred thoughts at once. Bright and alive and quick… there were too many threads to count, each one attached to an emotion, a memory, a skill…. I stood there, stunned by the beauty.
My own in comparison were scant. I was a fast thinker--all telepaths were--but my emotions had always been stunted. Next to hers, I was a nothing, a baby, a child at best, wobbling along on unsteady chubby legs. More than meets the eye indeed.
She knew I was looking at her mind too. A slight gleam in those dark eyes told me so, but she didn’t mind. I couldn’t understand anything she thought since it was all in Russian, and her emotions were too complex to read deeply. Right now, I saw mild curiosity and amusement, coupled with an anticipation of… something. My guess was that she knew I needed something and she was curious as to what it was.
“Sit,” she said, her English lightly accented, seemingly only vaguely Russian.
“There’s no--” I began, but cut my words off as when I looked, there was a chair. I took a seat in it and let out a sigh. “Thank you.”
“You are welcome, pozhiratel' dush,” she replied as she ground away, pausing only to peer into the mortar, then reapply the pestle.
“My name’s Caprice,” I said. She paused and glanced over her thin shoulder at me. Her eyes bored into mine until I stirred, “It’s what I go by.”
“And you know who I am,” she replied as she turned back to her work. Now done grinding, she moved to the cauldron, sprinkling the ingredients into the black iron and then stirring it with a large ladle.
The feeling of being in a fairy tale witch’s house invaded me. Though seemingly harmless, there was something about her which made my ears prick up and my hair stand on end. The room was charged with some indefinable energy. Fear, anticipation, power… it could have been all those things, or none of them. When she looked my way, her eyes glittered with knowledge, sharp enough you could cut yourself on them. Maybe that was all it was. Alistair had, after all, learned a lot of information about me just by reading my aura while I was in his residence.
“
Are you really the Baba Yaga of legend?” I asked, keeping my voice nonchalant.
She hmphed, nodding her head. “That and more.”
“What more?”
The witch raised the ladle and sniffed at the contents. She muttered something in Russian, then deposited the utensil back into the cauldron, shuffling over to take something out of what looked to be an icebox. She slapped it on the counter and set about chopping it vigorously.
“You didn’t answer my question,” I said, shifting in my seat.
“That’s not the question you want answered,” the witch replied. “You want to know if I have power, and if I’ll use that power on your behalf.”
“Well, yeah.” The aroma of blood filled the air, and she turned, dumping cubes into the large iron pot, her parchment like hands stained red.
“I do, and I might,” she said, moving to stir the cauldron’s contents once more. When she moved, I saw what was obviously a human femur sticking out of a hunk of meat. My stomach rolled over, and I reminded myself not to eat anything in this house. The cannibal themes were starting to get too hard to ignore, though.
“So… what’s your price?” I asked, tired of this. I looked around the room, but Nazferatu was nowhere to be seen. Lot of help he turned out to be.
“He’ll be no help to you here, pozhiratel',” she said. “Aleksandru has already pled on your behalf, not that I have ever listened to him.”
“Already? He left here like five minutes ago,” I said, glancing around. I drummed my fingers on the table, itching to draw my blade. Whatever was going on had my hackles up.
“Time flows through many rivers in my house,” she replied, her voice serene as she stirred her human stew. “It has little meaning.”
“I noticed,” I muttered in response. I mulled over what the witch called him. That sounded like she knew his name, was familiar with him. Aleksandru… Alexander? His name was Alexander? I smiled to myself. Knowing a secret about him tickled me red. “Didn’t answer my question. What do you want? I think you already know what I want.”
“There is nothing you can give me that I do not have,” the old woman said. I drummed my fingers on the table with greater speed, trying to work off some of this tension while still keeping my cool. She poked a single boney finger up into the air, “But….”
“But what?”
“I will do what you wish,” she said.
I blinked. “What? Why?”
At that, she turned around and grimaced at me in what I think passed for a smile. I recoiled from the sight of her filed down teeth, dark with… something. As the candle light reflected from them, I realized they weren’t colored dark, they were made of metal. The sight was gruesome, enough to turn even my stomach.
“I want you gone from here,” she said, shuffling over to me in that old woman crawl. When she placed her skeletal hand on my cheek, I shuddered. The smell from her was awful. It was like the garbage dumps of the olden days when everything was left out in the day under the hot sun to rot and ferment, mixing together to make a terrible brew.
“So just kill me then,” I said, pushing her hand away. “You obviously can.”
Baba Yaga chuckled, shaking her head and dislodging her braid so that it swung down her back. “No, I can’t,” she said. As she talked, I heard her teeth gnashing together, iron striking iron. “Your mother’s blessing protects you.” At that, she threw her head back and cackled, saying something in Russian which I had no hope of deciphering.
“Awesome,” I said as she shuffled away once more. I wasn’t sure how to take that, but it was being done, and that was all that mattered. In a matter of days, I’d be back home where I belonged.
The hut lurched to a stop, sending my chair sliding a few inches from the table. “We are here,” she said, waving a hand. “Go and play with your vampir, pozhiratel'. When you return, it will be ready.”
I stood up and waited for the buzz in my head to clear from the sudden movement. “Thank you,” I said, giving her her due.
“No, we should go now,” Adira said as she stepped from the shadows. “I don’t wish to see the pack that’s left.” She frowned, then gave me an ashamed smile, “I do not wish to lose my resolve.”
“I don’t think that’s really up to us,” I replied as I walked to her and took her elbow in hand. “Let’s get some fresh air, see some of your friends, and get something to eat.” I glanced at the pot and shuddered. “Something that hasn’t been attached to anyone.”
Adira gave me an irritated look which melted into confusion. “You know I drink blood, yes?”
I rolled my eyes. “Fucking hell, I do, let’s just get out of here so I can get some fresh air.”
We stepped into the main room and sure enough the door was there again, though it’d disappeared before. I glanced at Adira who kept looking over her shoulder at the witch. “Where’ve you been anyway? This place isn’t that big.” Or was it?
“Watching, from the shadows,” she said, looking back to me with her dull red eyes. “I saw you two.” Her words were shaded with a bit of disgust, though at least she didn’t sound angry or hurt.
“What’s the deal with you and Nazferatu anyway?” I asked as I yanked the door open, stepping away from her to regard her seriously. “You’re acting weird around him.”
Adira’s mouth turned down into a conservative frown. Her threads were colored with paranoia, strong enough that without me trying to read them I saw them. “He’s not my master,” she whispered. “That will have to be enough for you.”
“Whatever floats your boat,” I said with a sigh. At least she wouldn’t kill me for fucking him, or sit around and be all mopey. When she stopped at the threshold, I turned and gestured. “Come on. Mom’s kicking us out here.”
“I don’t wish to go,” she said, then turned on her heel and walked inside. The door closed as I stood there.
Throwing up my hands, I shook my head and turned around to see where the giant KFC hut had landed. It was a forested area, thick and cold. Only a sliver of light penetrated the tall tree cover, but the warm glow of campfires beckoned down a rocky path. I made my way down with care, head still dizzy. Snow lay in thicker patches, though there was some evidence of it melted away in spots. Rough huts had been built in a wide circle, each with a large fire in front of them. People milled, talking amongst themselves. Before I’d even gotten within a hundred yards of them, heads jerked up and turned my direction. They were wolves and vamps alright, having probably smelled my approach.
Though they took up wary positions, once I came into view of the light, they relaxed. A couple even smiled and waved, though most just looked me over curiously. The ones who waved must have been at the portal when we’d blown it up. The others had been elsewhere during the mess, lucky them. Sort of. They were still on the run and seeking shelter in this shithole of a forest.
Nazferatu stepped out of the shadows next to me, his dark eyes glowing with reflected firelight. “You spoke to the witch?” he asked, all professional and clean, as if we hadn’t been tearing each other apart a half hour ago.
“Yeah, she said yes,” I said. “Wants me gone, for whatever reason. It’s a win-win.”
“Adira?” he inquired, raising a brow.
I shook my head, “She wanted to stay there. Didn’t want to be tempted to stay here with you.”
“I see,” he said, then gestured in a courtly way towards the closest fire.
I followed his gesture, but didn’t take his arm, though he subtly offered it to me. “Why did you have her do that anyway?” I asked. “What’s it to you if the Reich invaded Prime or some other place?”
He shook his head, his longer hair bouncing with the motion. The light highlighted his burns in a grotesque way. “I care not for other dimensions,” he said. “I sought to cut off their bases in the places they’ve conquered, most with my help.” He paused, “Without communication leaving here, the other bases have ground to a halt. They return… but can do nothing here save to sit a
nd wait and fall under our fangs.”
I eyed him with a skeptic’s look. “Why not just seal this place off for good then?”
“I had hoped…” he said, his voice growing softer, making it so it was harder to hear him over the crackle of the fire. “...that my lost ones would return to me.”
His threads showed soft oranges and whites, with a hint of pinks here and there. “You care about them,” I said, my voice hushed with awe. “You really do.”
He curled his lip up. “Perhaps,” he said. The others nearby seemed to be listening while they talked amongst themselves, but all had an ear our direction. “You cannot fight side by side with your children and not feel pride for their kills, bask in the glory they give you.”
“You are really different from my Nosferatu,” I said as I sat down on a log and let the fire warm me. “The other Nos, he doesn’t give a shit for anyone but himself.”
“I am the same,” he said, and I eyed him askance. “Bonds of battle are hard to break.”
“I thought Adira would fall all over herself to come back here, but she seems… indifferent, maybe a little hurt,” I said. “She jumped the other Nos when she finally met him.”
Nazferatu didn’t seem hurt or surprised by that. I continued to study him, sifting through his mind, taking my time to read him. The layers of great age hung thick and dry over his mind, coloring his emotions pale, making them look weak. It was anything but, though. He felt, and felt deeply. As I felt around in Nazferatu’s head, I heard Erick somewhere in the corner of his mind, screaming to be let out.
“If that’s her choice,” he said, looking into my eyes. “But she seems to have chosen you.”
“Her and Rory were kicked from the pack,” I told him. Surprise filtered through, coloring his thoughts. “It’s a long story. Let me start from the beginning.”
I sat there and told him about how the pack had holed up in an abandoned building, making the area their own next to the wild forest of Pangea by the crashed platform. He nodded as I spoke about them working together, acting as a single unit as they forged a new path in Prime. Then, I switched to Rory, and how he’d helped me escape jail, and later on escape recapture, but had been captured himself by a living plant. He frowned when I told him how Rory had changed, infected by Pangea, possessed in part by it. When I came to the part where Adira left the pack to stay by Rory’s side, he was frowning deeply.
