by Fawn Lowery
She hummed happily, her arms laden with clothes. She hurried past him to the stairs. “Come see. I have a new wardrobe, Duella.”
He chuckled and followed her up the staircase.
The soft rustle of silk and lace followed her down the long hallway to the west wing of the large house. She entered the master suite and deposited her armload of dresses on the bed. Turning toward him, she gathered the hem of the old dress she wore in either hand and pulled it over her head. “I’ve worn this rag for fifty years. It’s disgusting.” She flung the dress across the room.
She smiled at Duella as he stepped inside the room and leaned one shoulder against the doorjamb. She was totally naked except for her shoes.
“All these years, I’ve never cared what I looked like.” She shrugged her shoulders. “Who in hell would give me a second look anyway? I’m a fucking vampire out to take blood from the first unsuspecting bastard I can lay my hands on—” She propped her hands on her hips. “Then you came along. Now I feel as though there might be something other than taking blood from mortals and sleeping all day.”
He felt her happiness, though she harbored an underlying sorrow.
“I know you can’t do anything about this damn vampire curse—” She rushed across the room and threw herself into his arms. Lacing her fingers behind his neck, she rose up on tiptoe and kissed him.
He wound his arms around her bare waist and returned her kiss, feeling her breasts press against his chest and her belly push into his crotch. He skimmed his palms across her back and onto her buttocks, pressing her closer. His cock began to rise as arousal flowed through his body in a heated wave.
She pulled her mouth away. “Fuck me, Duella. I’m so turned on.”
Her face bore the flush of new blood running through her veins.
Duella groaned and lifted her into his arms. He crossed the floor to the bed where she had piled her new garments. He laid her down amid the colorful array and climbed atop her body. He found her mouth and kissed her deeply, thrusting his tongue between her lips.
She pawed at his body, clutched at his buttocks and urged him to take his cock from his pants. She splayed her legs and bucked her hips.
Duella released his cock and drove it between her legs, causing her to gasp and arch her back. She wound her legs around his hips and began to move, lunging upward to meet his deep thrusts.
He held her buttocks in either hand, driving his cock deep inside her body. It slid along her silken passage, bringing soft moans of delight from her throat. He opened his eyes and gazed down at her. Her eyes were closed, her bottom lip clamped between her teeth.
He felt the first sensations of orgasm gather in his balls, then spiral through his limbs as it came full force. He lowered his mouth to claim hers as the climax shot through his body. The sensations felt electric, making him draw in deep breaths and squeeze his eyes shut to savor the onslaught. He had never enjoyed a woman as much as he was enjoying Miriam. She was willing and not ashamed to instigate the sex act with him. He smiled as he gazed down at her, watching as she came to her own climax.
Pleasure shone on her face, pulled her lips into a smile of satisfaction. She opened her mouth and sucked in gasping breaths. She arched her throat and closed her eyes tightly.
He continued to move, long after his own orgasm had waned from his body. Miriam dug her fingernails into his buttocks, still in the throes of orgasm. He held her and continued to lunge into her passage, stroking her female tissues, bringing forth climatic sensations.
She stopped moving, and lay still beneath him. He released a long breath and rolled to his side, pulling her body against his chest. He kissed her lips, finding them moist and tempting.
“I want to show you my new clothes.” She whispered against his lips.
He groaned and released her, then watched as she stood beside the bed and yanked on the clothes he still lay on.
“You’re wrinkling them, Duella.”
He laughed and rolled off the new garments. “You seduced me, remember?”
She giggled and sorted through the array of colorful dresses and undergarments. Choosing a black lace teddy, she pulled it over her hips and onto her breasts.
“How does it look?” She turned before him, her hands on her hips.
Her beauty mesmerized Duella. Her body was shapely, her legs were long and her breasts rose temptingly over the filmy cups of the undergarment. “You’re beautiful.”
She stared at him. “You’re the first man to ever tell me that—and I have to be fucking dead to finally get to hear it.” She frowned.
He felt her shock, then anger. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m sorry.”
She waved one hand at him and hurried to take the teddy off. She picked up a pink negligee and matching robe and put them on. Her breasts shown through the thin fabric, her nipples thrusting upward in a tantalizing jut.
“Will you sleep in that when the sun rises?”
“If you want me to.”
He nodded his head. It would serve little purpose, aside from allowing her to awaken come nightfall and find herself encased in something besides that horrid old black dress. He lay on the bed and watched as she pulled the gown and robe off and went on to the next garment in the heap. She was happy—to some extent—and he was glad for her.
Chapter Eleven
Duella left Miriam arranging her new clothes in the walk-in closet off the master bedroom. She was humming softly to herself when he couldn’t refuse his gnawing hunger any longer and announced that he was going out to feed.
“You’ll be careful, won’t you?”
He laughed and paused in the doorway. She sounded like a wife, and for a moment, he considered telling her so, but then decided not to. She might get the idea that he wanted to wed her, and right now, he had other things more pressing to tend. His head filled with unsavory thoughts of Drucella. It had been four days since their last encounter.
I wish that had been our final encounter for all time. He knew in his heart that they would meet again. Drucella had already demonstrated her determination to torment him until he relinquished the amulet he possessed. He clutched the gem in one hand and wondered how far the witch would go to gain it. A cold dread rose up inside him.
He combed one hand through his hair. He only wanted to live in peace. And make a life for himself and Miriam in New Orleans. The city was perfect for their lifestyle. It never slept. The streets seemed to be alive all through the night—perfect for feeding their blood lusts.
Blood lusts. Fucking vampires. He stifled his sudden anger. Perhaps he was too conventional for his own good. Vampires weren’t ordinary things that chose particular cities to set up house. They were undead creatures that needed the mortal man for only one damn thing. Blood.
He arrived at the men’s club and slipped quietly inside the building. Dark paneling covered the walls and heavy leather furniture sat scattered about the entry and the long hallways. The aroma of cigars and sweet smelling pipe tobacco clouded the air and led him toward the main room of the establishment. He glided across the polished hardwood floor, his body appearing little more than a shadow to those he passed in the halls. He reached the room he sought and rose quickly into the air, taking to his favorite dark corner. There were three gentlemen sitting in a semi-circle near a large brick fireplace. One smoked a cigar, another held a drink in his hand and the third smoked a pipe. He knew their names. The small man with the graying hair and slim moustache was Lloyd Cramer. He owned the newspaper in the city. Jason Murphy was short and stout. He was the undertaker as well as the coroner. The third man was Melvin Cross. He was tall and robust and owned a car dealership downtown.
“You performed an autopsy on that body the police found down by the beach, didn’t you, Jason?”
“I did.” He shook his head and took a drink from the glass he held. “I’ve never seen anything like it.” He glanced around and leaned closer to the other two men. “Keep this under your hats. The police are investigatin
g the death.”
“A murder in New Orleans isn’t anything unusual, especially since the flood and all the destruction from the hurricane, Jason.”
“This murder was unusual.”
“Well, come on. Don’t keep us in suspense. Why was this murder different?”
“The body was drained of all blood.”
“What sort of person does that to another person?”
“It’s rare in my experience.”
“Well, it just cuts your job as undertaker short, that’s all.”
“Seriously, Melvin. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
Lloyd Cramer chuckled. “Sounds like a vampire kill to me.”
“Shit. You know there’s no such thing as vampires, Lloyd.”
Lloyd shrugged his shoulders. “Well I don’t know of any animal that drains its victim of blood. Do you?”
“Let’s be serious. Was the victim a man or a woman?”
“A young male, early twenties. The police are trying to identify him.”
“Did you find bite marks?”
“I did. On his neck.” Jason raised his hand and pointed to his own neck. “Two marks right in the jugular.”
The three men sat quietly, smoking, blowing smoke into the air. The undertaker finished his drink.
Duella contemplated their conversation. He recalled Miriam saying there were no vampires in the city, aside from herself. He had seen no signs of other creatures of the night in his time spent in the area. He wondered if the undertaker could be mistaken. He had not said that the body was mutilated, only drained of blood.
He pushed the thought of Miriam being involved in any murder from his mind. Miriam wasn’t a killer. He smiled as he thought of how she was admiring her new wardrobe as he left her that evening. She was happy to have something to divert her attention from the fact that she was a vampire.
Miriam could never kill a victim. A niggling little thought forced its way into his brain. If Miriam and I are the only vampires in the city—and I didn’t commit a murder—that only leaves one vampire who might have done it.
He returned his attention to the men seated near the fireplace when he heard the sound of a cell phone. He watched as the undertaker took the small device from one jacket pocket and then held it to his ear.
“The police want me to meet them at the morgue. They’re bringing someone down to identify the murder victim. I have to go.”
Duella glided softly to the floor and followed Jason Murphy out of the room. He would go with the city coroner and hear firsthand what the police had to say about the body they hoped to identify.
The morgue was inside the city hospital, on the lower level. Duella trailed Jason Murphy down the hospital corridor and into the elevator, transforming into a misty vapor and gathering in the corner of the lift while it lowered to the appropriate floor. Once the elevator doors slid open, he whisked through the opening and assumed a position near the bank of metal doors shutting off the icy cubicles housing the corpses.
A man and a woman appeared in the doorway. The woman was clutching a handkerchief and wringing her hands. Tears stained her cheeks.
Duella felt her fright and sorrow. She bit her bottom lip as the policeman walked her over to the metal wall.
Jason Murphy opened one of the metal doors and pulled out a sliding gurney. A sheet covered the body. He raised the portion covering the head.
The woman screamed and nearly fell to the floor. The policeman caught her around the waist, steadied her body. She turned her face into his shoulder. “It’s Gary! My God! My son has been murdered!”
“We’ll find the murderer, Mrs. McCoy. I promise.”
Duella stared at the dead body lying on the metal gurney. He could see the young man’s neck, the puncture wound. A remorseful feeling gripped his insides when he saw the two marks, positioned on the jugular, very near the jaw line. It appeared a vampire had attacked the victim. He sniffed the air, trying to scent one of his own kind. A feeling of relief coursed through him when he failed to detect the aroma of a bloodthirsty creature of the night. That’s not a vampire kill.
The policeman walked the distressed woman from the room.
Jason Murphy shook his head and replaced the sheet over the young man, then slid the gurney back into the dark cubicle.
Duella left the morgue and, since he hadn’t fed yet that evening, he returned to the busy part of the city. A crowd was emerging from one of the theaters as he neared the section of town where the bars began. He took refuge in a dark alley and waited for an unsuspecting passerby. A lone man strolled past. Duella dashed after him, placing one hand atop his shoulder. A commanding thought brought the man under Duella’s power and he accompanied him in to the next dark corner of the city.
Duella’s hunger gnawed at him. He opened his mouth and bared his fangs. His eyes glowed red, his blood lust unleashed. He sank his fangs deep into the man’s vein, filling his mouth with his warm blood. He drank, gulping his fill.
Conscious not to take too much blood from the man, Duella stifled his blood thirst and removed his fangs, lathing the wound and closing it. He released the man and took to the air. Since viewing the murder victim in the morgue, he had decided that someone had killed the young man and made it appear as if a vampire had sucked his blood. The city would be in an uproar if the news leaked out that there was a killer vampire on the rampage.
Drucella. Could she fake a vampire attack? She’s a fucking witch—and a Gideon—she can do most anything she decides to do. He flew to the outskirts of the city and transformed into his vampire self. Standing beneath a large tree on the edge of the city cemetery, he clutched the amulet and made a request.
How can I destroy Drucella? He clutched the amulet and waited.
The stone neither warmed his hand nor showed him any vision.
He glanced around his surroundings. The cemetery was dark. One streetlight shone faintly down the block. Barren tree limbs cast eerie shadows across the stone markers. Clouds gathered overhead, concealing the moon and stars. Cold dread settled inside him.
Thoughts of Miriam materialized in his mind. He had left her at the mansion, admiring her new clothes. Was she safe in that big house?
Is Drucella aware of our move? He remembered then that Drucella had not found them in Miriam’s old house. He clutched the amulet and made another request, though he saw no sign of his first plea being answered.
How can I destroy the Gideon?
Chapter Twelve
Duella awoke with a start. His eyes flashed open. He bared his fangs and hissed.
“What’s wrong?”
Miriam sat up beside him, her eyes inquiring, one hand on his chest as she gazed about the darkened bedroom. She inched to the side of the big bed and stood, her attention still on the room and Duella’s sudden awakening.
He lunged upward and swung his feet over the edge of the bed. He felt no presence in the room other than Miriam. Vampires weren’t prone to dreaming. He smiled and shook his head. He could barely remember how it felt to dream. It had been such a long time since he was mortal.
“It’s all right, Miriam.” He glanced at her crossing the room to the locked door. The pink gown she wore moved softly with the sway of her body. He dragged in a long breath. He would have liked to have kept her in bed for sex, but his unusual awakening had frightened her, eliminating any possibility of her staying by his side.
She paused at the door and turned toward him. “Did you hear a noise?”
“No.” He shook his head and stood. “I suppose it was the servants milling about down stairs.” He crossed the room to the door and gathered her into his arms. “I’m sorry I scared you.” He kissed her temple.
“I’m famished. Let’s go eat.”
He nodded in agreement, then thought of last night and the conversation he had overheard at the men’s club. Perhaps he would accompany Miriam when she went to feed.
They left the mansion together, with intentions of visiting the old section of
the city. The weather was warm and less humid than the past days. The partygoers should be filling the streets, roaming aimlessly from bar to bar, getting drunk on frothy drinks and losing the ability to be on guard.
They arrived at the end of Bourbon Street
and began strolling down the sidewalk as though they, too, were partygoers. Duella thought they looked the part. He was dressed like most of the males they had observed throughout the city, jeans and t-shirt and Miriam sported a black leather shirt and slinky rhinestone top. Her long hair was gathered at her nape with a rhinestone-studded clasp. “You look very tempting.”
She giggled and hid her smile behind one hand.
Duella unconsciously puffed out his chest. She was beautiful and she belonged to him. He observed the men on the street staring at her as they mingled with the group standing before the doorway of a nightspot. A surge of jealously sprang up inside him as he identified the lust in their eyes. The urge to bare his fangs and threaten all that looked at her with desire in their eyes rose up inside him.
“Those two over there.”
He glanced down as Miriam laid a hand lightly on his arm, calling his attention to a couple that stood separated from the gathering waiting at the door. They looked like tourists, dressed casually in jeans and shorts, the woman had a purse on her shoulder and the man stood with his hands shoved into his pockets. They were intent on taking in every nuance of the nightlife, their eyes as big as saucers as they glanced up and down the street, then observed each of the patrons waiting in line.
“Come.”
He followed Miriam as she stepped out of line at the entrance to the bar and approached the pair.
A quick wave of her hand and the couple turned and fell into step with them. Miriam led the way down the sidewalk from the gathering, then turned into the first dark recess between two buildings she came across. A quick scuffle and she subdued the woman, pressing her against the side of the building so she could pierce her neck.
