Darkness Embraced

by Pennington, Winter

  Are you afraid of her?

  If she turns against us, oh yes.

  Renata could have forced me to do it. She could have ordered me to accept, but she didn’t. She left me room to decide what was right and wrong on my own. I turned my face up to the Dracule. “Is it true that you enjoy a good barter?”

  “Yesss.”

  “Then”—I got to my feet—“barter we shall.”

  “Lead.” She made a sort of sweeping gesture with her body, as someone would when inviting a guest into her home. The gesture was more like a half-bow with her arms tucked behind the shield of her wings.

  *

  We had spent a good half hour bartering with the Dracule. I admit, Renata was a great deal better at it than I was. I did not know how the Dracule killed their victims, nor did I particularly care to find out. The Dracule was not allowed to scar my body, maim my body, or remove any of the flesh from my body. While Renata bartered and discussed the terms with the Dracule, I wondered just how intimately she knew their kind.

  “Do I have your word that when I am mounting your vampire you will not ssstab me in the back?”

  I heard the Dracule’s words and began paying close attention to the conversation again.

  A dark smile curved over Renata’s lips from where she sat in a chair next to the armoire. The Dracule stood at the foot of Renata’s great bed. I sat on the edge of it, watching them both.

  “If you hurt her in a way she does not enjoy,” she said darkly, “then yes, oh yes, I will cut out your heart myself, Dracule.”

  “If you can,” the Dracule said, empty black eyes slipping from Renata’s dark smile and to my still form on the bed.

  The Dracule started moving toward me and my heart leapt into my throat.

  “You both need to feed,” the Dracule said, continuing in a dry tone, “I am willing to feed you both, at a price.”

  “The blood of a Dracule,” Renata said arching her dark brows, “that is no small offer. What say you the price?”

  Not only were we bargaining my body, but we were suddenly also striking a bargain about the Dracule’s blood.

  Well, I thought to myself, at least the Dracule is willing to open a vein.

  Aye, Cuinn said, reminding me of his presence, your Queen is right again. ‘T is no small offer.

  Why did it seem like Cuinn was starting to agree with Renata more and more?

  I can’t do this if you’re going to be playing around in my head, Cuinn.

  He fell silent. I sensed that he was curling up for a little nap, but knew he would not truly sleep. He would, as usual, eavesdrop. Is it really eavesdropping when the spirit communicating with you mind-to-mind is magically bound to protect you? In truth, I didn’t think he could help it. He could no more block me out than I could him.

  “Did you hear her, Epiphany?” Renata touched my shoulder and I startled back to myself.

  “Hear what, my Queen?”

  “The Dracule has offered her blood on the condition that I make you ready.”

  “Ready?” I asked, unable to keep the suspicion out of my voice.

  “She has offered to feed us so long as I use my hands and my mouth to prepare you for her.”

  I licked my lips, considering. Renata had never shared me with anyone before. It was never something we’d had cause to discuss, as we’d never put on a show for another woman, let alone one of the Dracule.

  I couldn’t decide. Would it excite me or make me uncomfortable? Would being touched by Renata in front of the Dracule make me feel a little safer? I honestly had no idea.

  “That is up to you, my Queen.”

  Renata was silent a moment. I think she was allowing me more time to give it some thought.

  When she realized that I was leaving the decision up to her, she made it.

  “Agreed,” she said, “it has been long since I have tasted the blood of the Dracule. It is very heady stuff.”

  “It isss.”

  I didn’t disagree with her decision, mainly because the pangs of hunger were beginning to tighten my stomach. I was beginning to feel hollow and empty, easily distracted. I felt tired, and that alone was warning I needed to feed. We did not feel tired, not truly, but we did begin to feel a kind of physical and mental lethargy that had to do with having gone too long without feeding.

  Renata went to the wall, pulling aside a plum colored curtain that hid two double doors. The two doors opened into a decent-sized sitting room that connected to one of the back halls. When she emerged, she was carrying two crystal wine glasses. She held the glasses out to the Dracule. The Dracule’s black eyelids blinked.

  “You will not take my blood with your mouth?”

  “The Dracule have two shapes,” she said, offering a cutting smile. “If you are unwilling to change your form then I think this way best.”

  The Dracule took the glasses and flexed her hand. Those tiny claws shot out and she drove them into the artery at her wrist, holding it steadily above the wine glass. The smell of blood made my nostrils flare. It smelled more strongly metallic, higher and richer in iron than mortal blood.

  “Two forms?” I asked, resisting the urge to rise and jerk the Dracule’s wrist to my mouth.

  “Yes,” Renata said. “What she did not tell you is that she has a form that is…less intimidating.”

  The Dracule handed Renata the first glass. Renata’s long, tapered fingers wrapped daintily around the stem.

  “And isss your vampire sssome human I have to pretend to be lesss frightening for?”

  Renata took a sip of the blood, her eyes closing. When they opened, her pupils had constricted to tiny specks.

  “My Epiphany does not scare easily, Dracule.”

  The Dracule offered the second glass to me and I stood in order to retrieve it. Her clawed fingers brushed my hand and I gave pause, but not out of fear. No, I was strangely calm. If the Dracule had meant me harm, wouldn’t a being such as she have already caused it? Her fingers touched mine, light and gentle. Her black eyes held a thread of uncertainty.

  She withdrew her hand, claws tickling along my skin.

  “Ssso I sssee.”

  Her fur had been as soft as it seemed. I couldn’t help but wonder, no matter how much I tried not to, what that furred body would feel like sliding against mine. I attempted to ignore the shiver that shimmied down my spine and distracted myself by pressing my lips against the rounded edge of the glass, draining the blood.

  The Dracule reached out, brushing a curl out of my face with the back of her fingers. I felt Renata move up behind me. Caught between the two of them, I shut my eyes, as if that would stop desire’s heat from building between my legs.

  “Isss it your Queen or isss it me that you crave?”

  “Both.”

  The emotions that flowed through the Dracule’s being were like tiny streams, veins of emotion. There was eagerness and anticipation, but also sorrow and a cavernous well of longing. I was about to raise my hand to touch the Dracule’s cheek when I felt Renata’s fingers at my neck. She guided my hair to spill down my back.

  “The Dracule must wait her turn,” she whispered, her breath warm at my ear. Her tongue traced the curve of my earlobe, making my skin prickle.

  “Disrobe, Epiphany.”

  I did, taking the hand she offered and allowing her to guide me to the bed. She used her body to encourage me to crawl toward the head of it, raising the black velvet of her skirts and straddling me.

  She kissed me and I swayed back against the pillows, offering my mouth and forgetting all about the presence of the Dracule. Renata’s lips burned against mine, her tongue filled me. Her hands swept across my waist and spilled over my breasts.

  She drove her fangs into the sensitive skin of my breast until I made a sound for her.

  Renata used her hands and mouth to tease me. The tresses of her waist-length hair slid across my body and I writhed at the sensation of it. She kissed my hips, licked my navel, nipped at the skin in the bend of my elbow.
Her fingers stroked the dampened lips between my legs enticingly.

  She rose, moving to lay beside me, touching a lock of my hair with a libidinous smile.

  The Dracule came to us then, crawling across the bed. She crouched above me and I saw myself reflected in the strange pools of her eyes.

  Her wings unfolded and she lowered, pressing her sleek furred body against mine.

  “Silk,” I breathed the word, rubbing the side of my face against her chest. “You are like drowning in silk.”

  The Dracule said nothing while she used her knee to part my legs. I yielded, opening to her. Her satiny hands moved at my waist. She looked at me with an expression of tender surprise and yearning. She raised that inhuman face, revealing the rawness of her want.

  She put her hand between my legs and it was like being caressed by a woman wearing silk gloves. The creature that had been so frightening was amazingly gentle as she moved her hips and angled the flesh of her groin against mine.

  That mound of silken flesh brushed my clit and I gasped, raising my hands unthinkingly. I touched the furred softness of her shoulders, the only thing I could reach, and buried my fingers in her fur. That mound of flesh moved again, summoning a wave of pleasure from within me. I lowered my gaze to find that her hips moved ever so slightly, but not enough to cause such a sensation.

  “How?”

  “I told you, it isss like yoursss, only more.”

  She pressed her lower body against mine, raising enough that with her height, I could no longer hold her shoulders. Her genitalia pressed more solidly against me and I wrapped my legs around her hips. A moment later, she drew back, and as she drew away, that soft flesh clung to me, clung like it had suctioned to my skin. Her hips moved again, enough to tug lightly, but that light tug was an immensely pleasurable gesture that bowed my spine.

  I cried out as her body clung to mine like a mouth, the pleasure almost unbearable. Almost.

  She bent, her red tongue flicking out against my breast in a way that caused my hips to buck unwittingly. I turned my head and met Renata’s amused expression.

  “Mmm,” she said silkily, “who’d have thought you’d have a penchant for the Dracule’s particular brand of pleasure.” She reached out, idly touching my brow.

  The Dracule chose that moment to nip my breast, hard enough to bring my attention back to her.

  I stroked the tip of her elongated ear. Her pace quickened and the pressure between my legs ignited, sending my head back against the pillows. The heat built, making my thighs clench tight.

  The Dracule spoke with an effort. “Sssoon.”

  The muscles in my stomach went rigid. “Very soon.”

  Before the orgasm took me body and mind, the Dracule’s body arched like a bow. She threw her head back, exposing the line of her silky throat. Her wings stretched out behind her, casting a terribly beautiful shadow in the dancing candlelight. A cry like nothing I had ever heard before spilled from her mouth, a woman’s cry of ecstasy mingled with a screech that was too low and raspy to be that of a bird. I saw as much, before I too became the victim of pleasure and echoed her.

  The Dracule collapsed on top of me, wings spread out across the bed. Her spaded tail rose, swaying from side to side. The movement shifted her hips, making me very aware that her groin was still connected to mine. I rubbed against her and she groaned, grabbing a handful of my hair. Her sharp claws threatened to pierce my scalp. For fear of injuring myself, I stilled.

  “Ssstop.” The Dracule used her grip to raise me up on my knees. She moved to lay on a bed of those leathery wings. “Ssstraddle me.”

  I climbed her legs and reached down. I couldn’t help it. I wanted to touch it. I wanted to feel her sex in my hands. I wanted to investigate it, to know what it was, what it felt like…to see how it reacted to my touch.

  I cupped her in my hand, feeling her slick skin stiffening against my palm.

  “This,” I asked, massaging her, “what do you call it?”

  I squeezed, watching her eyes shudder closed.

  “Nod Dragoste.”

  I let her roll out of my hand, dipping my fingers lower in exploration.

  I found her opening, easing my fingers inside.

  There we were very much alike.

  “What does that mean?” I said, fingers curling.

  “In Englisssh?” she asked, her body tight around me. “It would transsslate to sssomething like, ah—” She shuddered again, spasming as I pushed deeper. “Love knot.”

  She caught my wrist and pulled my hand away from her groin.

  “Ssstraddle. Put your sssex againssst mine. I want to feel you sssliding over me. I want to watch you dancing above me.”

  I held myself above her on hands and knees, rubbing the side of my face against her stomach. I wanted to bite her. I wanted to lick her. But though the fur was as soft as silk, there was no flesh to lick and bite. If the Dracule shed as much as any cat I’d ever known, I was not going to make the mistake of biting her.

  “Show me your other shape,” I said, brushing my cheek across the curve of her hip. “Show me your other form, Dracule, and I’ll grant your request.”

  I would have never said such a thing to Renata. I would have never spoken such bold words laced with demand to her, my lover and my Queen. But the Dracule was not my Queen, and though we made love, she was neither friend nor lover.

  Though Renata had broken my heart, something in me wanted to trust her again. Yes, even at the risk of being broken again. In love, there were always risks. I was not blind. I had no doubts of the risk I took. But if I were honest with myself, I found my longing far outweighed those doubts. Whether that was the deep soul binding of Siren and vampire at play, or the years of engrained servitude, I did not know. Then again, perhaps it was simply my nature.

  Love had a strange way of discombobulating the self and breaking any preconceived notions. The Dracule was not my Siren. She had not earned my complete and utter surrender, let alone the submission of my body and heart. I was not bound to her through magic, passion, and politics in the way that I was with Renata.

  The Dracule sat up and moved toward me. I realized she was about to kiss me and had a moment to fear, to think that the mouth in which she was about to kiss me with was not a mouth made for kissing, when the silk of her fur brushed my lips. Her maw opened and the ribbon of her tongue tickled my bottom lip.

  “Kisss me, vampire.” Her voice was a whisper of a hiss that sent her breath tickling against my mouth almost as much as her tongue had. “Kisss me and I will change for you.”

  Her tongue danced against my mouth and this time, I opened to her. Her tongue slipped past my lips like some long and thin piece of candy. It flattened alongside my tongue, dancing a wet ballet in my mouth. I pressed my lips to her furred mouth and found it was too large for me to do what I wanted to do. I was not capable of returning her kiss. So instead, when she withdrew, I traced the black line of her lips with the tip of my tongue.

  The Dracule growled, deep and rumbling. It was a sound far more animal than the serpentine hiss of her voice.

  She pressed her mouth roughly against mine. I did not feel her change. One moment, a mouth too large to kiss was pushing against me and the next I felt the soft fullness of human lips. Her tongue spilled into me, velvety and warm. I opened to her, kissing her back.

  The Dracule spoke with a woman’s sensuous mouth. “Is that better, vampire?” The blackness of her eyes receded to reveal gold irises slashed with branches of onyx lightning. Although her face was that of a beautiful woman, the long spaded tail that swayed behind her and the leathery wings stretching from her back were not. I leaned back to fully see the pale body against mine. A dusting of obsidian fur covered the mound at her groin.

  We knelt on the bed in front of each other. She looked down at me, craning her neck slightly. I pressed my stomach against the slight bulge between her legs, rubbing against her. “Yes.”

  The Dracule turned away and I touched her cheek.


  “Show me your fangs.”

  Slowly, she opened her mouth. Her fangs were not so very different from a vampire’s. The only difference was that she had elongated canines on both her upper and lower jaw.

  She closed her mouth with an unhappy snap.

  “Satisfied?” Without the long, thin tongue, it seemed easier for her to speak.

  I gave her shoulder a light push and said, “I will be.”

  She sank back on a bed of her incredibly long black hair and wings. I straddled her, brushing my groin over hers. That node of furred flesh hardened slightly. I spread my legs wider, sinking lower on my knees until her sex was nestled against mine.

  The Dracule watched me with unnerving intensity.

  I skimmed her sex with mine, shuddering as her flesh swelled between my legs, gliding through my wetness. I felt her against me and wondered if the flesh was large enough, sturdy enough.

  A shudder rippled through the Dracule’s alabaster form.

  “Will you fit?” I asked, circling my hips, dancing my flesh over hers.

  The Dracule gave a breathy reply, “A little.”

  “Do you want me to take you inside me?”

  Her eyes fell from my face to our touching groins.

  Her hands found my hips, nails digging lightly into my skin. That one touch was sufficient. I shuddered, sheathing her engorged clitoral knot inside me, taking in as much of her as I could. I sat back on my heels and used the muscles between my legs to cinch like a snare around her. It would not work for long, for she was female and not a thing meant to be sheathed and cinched. But for foreplay, it worked considerably well.

  The Dracule’s nails dug in more roughly. I cried out, grinding myself into the pain. The move made her slip out of me and I gave my own version of a frustrated sound.

  “Rub against me,” she said, removing her nails from my flesh. She left little tiny crescent imprints on my skin, but had not drawn blood.

  Those magnificent eyes flicked over my shoulder and I turned to see what she was looking at.

  Renata crawled in all of her pale, nude glory toward us.

  “The Dracule makes a wondrous distraction,” she said. “Would you cast me from your bed?” she asked the Dracule.