by Fawn Lowery
The man made a futile attempt to aid his wife, but quickly fell victim to Duella’s persuasion as he grasped his shoulder and pulled him against his chest. He held him immobile while he drank his blood. The warm liquid quickly gave him strength, renewed his flagging body and made him alert again. He stopped himself from taking too much blood from the man, held him at arm’s length while he inspected the pallor of his face, then released him. He slid slowly to the ground and lay there, his eyes staring blankly into the darkness.
Miriam still held the woman and drank.
Duella went to her, placed one hand on her shoulder. “Do not take too much, my sweet.”
Miriam turned her eyes on him, questioning in her gaze as she relinquished the tight hold she held on her victim. The woman collapsed at her feet. Miriam stepped back and swiped a forearm across her lips, wiping away the drops of blood she had not swallowed.
“I was very hungry, Duella. But I never take more than what I need to satisfy my hunger.” She stared at him for a second, then turned and transformed into a bat. She took to the air, leaving him standing in the shadows.
Duella felt a bit remorseful for having doubted Miriam. He shook his head. He had to find Drucella. Deep in his gut, he blamed her for the death of Gary McCoy. If only he knew where to look to find the witch. He thought of the times she had appeared, threatening he and Miriam. Both times, she came to them in the library, it was due to the information contained within the old book Miriam discovered. And each time he thought he would put an end to her existence, she managed to vanish right before his eyes.
He stood in the shadows and considered what he should do. He couldn’t tell Miriam. Alerting her to Drucella’s latest plan to destroy him would only place her in harm’s way. He had to find a way to draw Drucella out, to make her come to him. He needed a plan.
He changed from his vampire body and rose into the air, his destination the old cemetery on the edge of town. The old dusty book in the library had revealed the graveyard to be a favored place of the Gideon. He didn’t quite understand the significance of the creature and the resting place for the dead, except that the Gideon could only be killed in one particular way. He grimaced. The damn page in the old book was torn and he had been unable to discover the one thing he desired to know.
The stars gleamed against the black sky, shining pinpoints of luminous lights that seemed to go on forever. A full moon hung low in the sky, its silvery light casting long shadows across the grassy expanse. Above ground mausoleums stood eerily quiet against the darkened surroundings, the intricately carved cherubs on their heavy lids were poised to ward off evil spirits.
A flicker of recognition grasped his mind. Gideons were evil spirits. It made all the sense in the world. Drucella had suffered little consequence from the fire his brother had cast her into, short of losing the valued amulet she wore, she somehow regained her witch body and traveled through time in search of him. He thought of his plea to understand how to destroy a Gideon. Drucella had found him only to get her precious amulet back.
Is the amulet the key to her existence? He clutched the stone then opened his hand and looked at it. He knew its powers came from the dark one. The Witches of Morganford had been servants of the devil. They had terrorized the small community for as long as he could remember, taking crops and livestock for their own demented uses. They had laid waste to entire families, murdered the parents and took the children hostage, then turned them into slaves and made them toil under their domination.
A sudden movement off to his left drew his attention. He whirled around as a sound penetrated the quiet. A ghostly figure loomed straight ahead, shadowy white and hovering mere inches off the ground. He stared at the apparition as he thought of Drucella and the many forms the witch could take. “I have no fear of you, Drucella.”
A spiel of laughter broke the silence.
“Come closer so that I might wrap my hands around your throat.”
“Duella, you would do me harm?” She laughed loudly. The apparition wavered, shimmered beneath the glow of the full moon. “I come with a message for you.”
“Be gone with you.” His anger rose to choke his throat. Drucella wanted only to rile him, to raise his hackles in the chance that he would make a mistake and she would best him, taking the amulet as the prize. Well, he decided he would not give her the chance to irritate him, and since she knew better than to get within his reach, she would be wise to take her leave.
“Your little Miriam has gotten herself captured by the townspeople.”
“You lie.”
The apparition rose into the air, then moved closer to him, lowered, hovered just beyond arm’s length. The figure inside the mist moved one arm and a vision appeared before his eyes. Miriam stood on the edge of a cliff, her back to the crevice. In front of her stood a mass of angry people with long clubs. They jabbed the jagged ends of the weapons toward her, trying to force her off the cliff. She spat and hissed, bared her fangs and made her eyes glow bright red.
“See? What I say is true. Miriam is about to meet her end.”
Torn between believing Drucella and going to Miriam’s rescue, he took only a moment before making his decision. He leapt into the air, transformed into a bat and disappeared in the darkness.
Chapter Thirteen
Duella tried to reach out to Miriam with his mind. He sent mental messages for her to tell him where she was. He received no answering reply or any other telepathic communication relating to either her dire situation or her location. Puzzled, he began to think Drucella had led him astray again. But why? What would she have to gain?
On a hunch, he returned to the mansion he shared with Miriam. He hurried inside, his eyes alert to any movement within the house, his ears keen to noises associated with the she vampire. He raised his head and listened, his gaze trained on the upper floor of the house. Soft humming sounded, a lyrical tune that wafted down the long hallway and spilled lightly into the lower level of the house.
He smiled and rose upward to the second floor. The humming grew louder, leading him toward the master suite at the end of the hallway. He released a relieved sigh as he came to believe that Miriam was at home in their bedroom, safe.
“Where have you been? I’ve been waiting for you.”
He stopped in the doorway and gazed at her. She was beautiful. She stood before a full-length mirror, turning from side to side, looking at the exquisite evening gown she wore. He glanced at the mirror, seeing only the dress. Miriam’s likeness failed to reflect in the mirror. He strode across the carpet and stood beside her, looking into the mirror. His reflection failed to appear, but his clothes were placed nicely beside hers.
“We look like a couple of dolts.”
“Do I need to remind you to stay away from mirrors?” They laughed and he wound one arm around her waist, drawing her against his side.
“Mirrors are the bane of vampires.”
“Along with so many other things.”
“We can’t think about that now. Let’s go dancing.”
He gazed down at her. Her eyes were luminous, her cheeks flushed and rosy from her recent feed. He felt a measure of comfort having her by his side. The feeling settled within his body, bringing him peace. “I like the changes you’ve made.” He traced the arc of her cheek with one fingertip.
She rose up on tiptoe and kissed him. “It’s all because of you. Can we go dancing?”
He considered whether to tell her that he didn’t know how to dance, then shrugged his shoulders and tacitly agreed. She clapped her hands as if she were a child and led him from the room. Hurrying down the long hallway, she paused at the top of the staircase.
A measure of fright gripped Duella as he halted his feet and gazed the length of the stairs. Ambrose stood at the foot of the stairs flanked by two burley policemen. Miriam jerked her head round, her eyes wide.
“Return to the bedroom,” Duella whispered. He took her elbow and turned her from the top stair. “Don’t worry.” He though
t of the vision the apparition in the graveyard had showed him earlier. But Miriam wasn’t being held captive by an angry mob—she was right there in the mansion, dressed to kill—
He sucked in a quick breath and started down the stairs. Be nice. He intended to heed his silent warning, stretching a welcoming smile across his lips as he drew nearer the butler and his guests.
“I’m sorry to disturb you, Mr. Sutherland,” Ambrose began, an anxious look on his wrinkled face. “These officers say they need to talk to you.”
“Thank you, Ambrose.” He nodded to the officers after dismissing the butler. He raised one hand and invited the policemen to join him in the spacious living room of the house. “And what can I do for you gentlemen on this lovely evening?”
The taller of the policemen cleared his throat. “There was a disturbance along Bourbon Street
earlier this evening, Mr. Sutherland, and various witnesses gave us information that made us believe that you and your lovely wife might be involved.”
“Do tell.”
“Were you in that vicinity this evening?”
“Yes, we were. We thought we would enjoy the nightclub scene for a while, but the atmosphere appeared too rowdy for my delicate companion.” He stared at the two officers, smiled, then frowned. “The police need to be visible in that district, especially on the weekend when so many tourists crowd the streets. Don’t you think?”
The two officers exchanged glances.
“We have several patrols in that area, Mr. Sutherland.”
“I can’t recall seeing a single cop during the time we were standing in line at the nightclub or strolling along the crowded streets.”
One officer cleared his throat and took a step closer to Duella.
Duella met his gaze, causing him to halt his feet.
“How long have you been in New Orleans, Mr. Sutherland?”
“Only a short time.”
The officer glanced around at the large room, the exquisite furnishings, then turned his gaze back to Duella. “Was Fred Glasco a relative?”
“Only a business associate.”
“Did you or your wife attack two tourists this evening, biting their necks and extracting blood from their bodies?”
Duella laughed. “Surely you’re joking, Officer.”
The policeman stared at him, assessing him from head to toe. “There was a murder recently—a gruesome murder, to say the least. Do you know anything about it, Mr. Sutherland? The body of the young man was drained of blood.”
“Shocking.” Duella stared at the policeman. “But no. I have no knowledge of the incident. And I most certainly had no part in it.” He cocked an eyebrow. “Perhaps if the police were more visible in the community—”
The officer turned, glanced at the other officer.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Sutherland. But you must understand. There was a complaint filed and we had to investigate it. Please excuse us.” The men wasted little time finding the front door of the mansion.
Duella watched their backs as they crossed the wide porch and got into their patrol car. He turned toward the stairs, his thoughts on Drucella. That witch! She would stop at nothing to cause him trouble.
“What did they want?”
Miriam stood at the top of the stairs. She had changed out of her evening gown. A worried look wreathed her face.
He started up the staircase. He needed to reassure her without alarming her. “It was all a mistake, my sweet. They apologized and left.”
She released an audible sigh of relief and smiled at him. “I was so afraid they had come to cart us off to jail.” She clutched Duella’s shirtfront, her fingers knotted. “We must be more careful about where we feed in the future. We must choose our victims more carefully.”
“Don’t worry.” He smoothed a hand across her hair.
She snuggled against his chest, tears filling her eyes. “I hate being a vampire. Now the police know where we live. They’ll be coming around every time someone reports a hangnail.”
Duella laughed. “You’re jumping to conclusions. The police don’t know we’re vampires.” He held his tongue, not wanting to worry Miriam, but the visit from the police only served to solidify the threat Drucella aimed at him. He had to find a way to rid the world of that witch—and soon.
“The night is almost over. Take me to bed and make me feel safe, Duella.”
He hugged her against his side as they walked down the long hallway. The ringing of the telephone halted their feet. Duella glanced down at Miriam. Renewed fright shown in her dark eyes. He smiled, trying to reassure her.
The sound of Ambrose’s voice rose upward to the quiet of the hallway as he answered the ringing menace.
“Mr. Sutherland, there’s a call for you, sir.”
“I’ll be right there.”
“Who could that be?”
“Don’t worry. Remember, I’m a businessman. I’ll be getting business calls. There’s nothing to fear. Wait for me in the bedroom.” He leaned down and brushed his lips across hers. “Naked.”
She smiled and nodded her head.
He hurried to take the call, lifting the receiver as though commonplace instead of the very first time he ever talked on one of the apparatuses.
“Relinquish the talisman.”
Anger reared up inside him at the sound of the voice. He gripped the receiver, his hold at once tight enough to destroy the plastic earpiece. “You bitch!” Rancor filled his tone.
A loud clamor sounded in his ear, making him grit his teeth. If he could transform and follow the phone line to where Drucella was, he’d do it in a second. As it was, he could only grip the receiver and curse beneath his breath.
“You are at my mercy—you and your little whore!”
A loud screech sounded and the line went dead.
Duella stood rigid, as though his feet were frozen to the floor and he was unable to move. The call had unnerved him to the point that he thought about leaving the mansion and returning only after he had successfully hunted the witch down and destroyed her for good—even if it meant losing his own existence in the process. He gnashed his teeth as his anger refused to subside.
Miriam was at his side, her arm spanning his waist. She pried the receiver from his clenched hand and replaced it atop the phone. “You forget that I have keen hearing, too,” she whispered.
He was so irate that he could barely move. His legs felt laden. His temples throbbed.
“I know that wasn’t a business associate. Who was it?”
He forced himself to control his rage. He swallowed down the impulse to flee the house in search of the witch. He turned his gaze on Miriam. She seemed so frail and needing as he looked upon her. He couldn’t let anything happen to her. She was an innocent pawn in the deadly game he played with Drucella.
He shook his head. Wrapping one arm around her shoulders, he turned her toward the stairs. “You’re supposed to be waiting for me in the bedroom.” As he spoke the words, he knew he was too enraged to perform sexually. Even if he were mortal at that moment, he doubted he could get it up and be any pleasure to Miriam.
“The sun is rapidly chasing away the darkness, my lover. We shall have to wait until morning to sate our sexual lusts.”
He hugged her against his side, relieved for the moment that it was time to lose himself in the sleep of the dead.
Chapter Fourteen
Miriam moved by his side. He opened his eyes, blinked. He felt the hand that slid along his naked side, the stroking fingertips that inched across his chest and tweaked his male nipple. A slow smile spanned his face. He stretched, raising his arms above his head.
He felt her long hair drag across his abdomen, then her lips as she kissed a path across his belly into the dense black hair at his crotch. She slid one hand to his cock and lifted it into her palm. Her tongue slid slowly along its length as it began to grow hard.
Duella concentrated on enjoying the feel of her tongue, dragging hot and wet across his cool flesh. If he
closed his eyes and let his mind take control of his senses, he could almost imagine himself mortal, sharing sex with a woman he loved. The sensual play of fingers tracing seductively along his thigh, the erotic sensation of knowing that soon fulfillment would be his, the strong vibrations of climax shaking his body.
He brought his mind back to reality. He was a vampire and the woman stroking his cock was a vampire. There was no dream that would return him to his mortal state—he had been down that path before—only to feel remorse for the past and what could never be again. He swallowed down the urge to scream his frustration, to bare his fangs and take his rage out on the first mortal he encountered.
Her lips slid teasingly along his inner thigh, skimming over the hair-roughened skin with intense passion. His eyes flickered open as he realized the emotion gripping Miriam. She touched him as though she loved him—tenderly, passionately, with all the intimate feelings of a lover. He reached for her, caught her left hand.
She tangled her fingers with his, stroking his palm with the ball of her thumb. She resisted the slight tug on her hand, urging her to crawl up his body and lie on top of him. “I want to love you, Duella.”
Her voice was a soft whisper that rasped through the darkness consuming the bedroom. He gazed down at her, seeing the top of her head as she dipped her mouth to cover his cock. Her hot mouth closed around his erection, making him suck in a quick breath. He clasped her head in both palms, cradling her face gently. He felt the muscle in her jaw flex when she sucked him in.
Her tongue played along his length, slid upward, then trailed down, delving into the dense bush at the base of his cock. She lathed his balls with her tongue, leaving the orbs wet and sensitive before returning her mouth to his cock. She poked out her tongue and teased the responsive knob. A low moan escaped her throat.
“I love you.”
He wasn’t quite sure she had spoke, her tending didn’t show any sign of pausing. He tangled his fingers in her hair. The tresses were sleek and slid over his knuckles like luxurious silk. He smiled at the mingling of sensations—the intense heat of her mouth coupled with his enjoyment of touching her hair. It was a simple pleasure—touching a woman’s hair—one he could remember from his mortal time.
