This wasn't like her. She was a fighter not a cry-baby. But where she and Francesca were concerned the rules went out the window.
For the fourth day in a row she cried herself to sleep.
Xavier watched as Gabriella cried herself off to sleep for the fourth day running. She still refused his offer to spend the day with him in his private quarters. She could be a stubborn bitch sometimes. What he needed was some way to force her into spending the day with him.
He had to make it subtle. While he could certainly use physical force to drag her kicking and screaming into his bed, and he was not entirely averse to that idea, it would hardly endear him to her nor make her an ally against Francesca. She had to seek him out willingly for that to work.
So Xavier had to come up with something that would cause her to seek him out for comfort. It had to be something quite traumatic. Perhaps something that he could play a part in saving her from. He could be her hero.
He chuckled to himself as he returned to his quarters. He had just the plan in mind.
Another night came around all too quickly. Fulton would have much preferred to remain closeted in here with Francesca. Things seemed less complicated with her. It was just the two of them together flesh on flesh. Despite Francesca's earlier insinuations Gabriella had never joined them. Fulton was unsure whether he would have liked her to join them or not.
There was obviously something between the two women that Fulton had interfered with. He saw jealousy in Gabriella's eyes when he and Francesca were together and he knew that it must be mirrored in his own when he thought about them together. He enjoyed having Francesca all to himself.
But Gabriella was an attractive girl on her own merits and the two of them together would be an explosive combination.
Francesca was still back in the bedroom. Last night she had introduced him to costumes. She said that Gabriella and herself sometimes hunted in them, they were not just for show they were actually functional. The one she had worn for him looked like something entirely impractical from a low-budget fantasy movie. Where the lady warriors wore the skimpiest of clothes that could still be called clothes and the men were bare of chest and only wore loincloths. Luckily Francesca only had a selection suitable for women.
The one she wore was a mass of straps and thin pieces of transparent material strategically placed. Metal bands and a few sharp blades, that Francesca proved were not just for decoration, covered her arms. Most of the lacerations on his body where now fully healed but there were still a number of tender spots in some tender places.
As promised Francesca had stolen Fulton a selection of finer clothing. They had killed the manager of the shop together and spent much of the rest of the night choosing what to steal. Francesca had taken a few things for herself and a couple of choice items for Gabriella, but most of the time was spent seeing to him. They had left with their ill-gotten gains when a pair of police officers disturbed them.
At first they had planned to kill the officers but Fulton convinced Francesca that a confrontation wouldn't be in their interests. It would be certain to attract a lot of attention, scrutiny that they could well do without. Francesca had agreed to leave after he mentioned that a fight would inevitably lead to much of their new clothing being spoiled before they got a chance to wear it out.
Fulton was now dressed in a black silk shirt with what looked like Japanese or Chinese symbols in a purple trim. A thin tie in the same purple made a stripe up his middle. He wore a pair of matching black trousers that had the same symbols running in a line up the outside of the right leg. A pair of hand-crafted leather shoes shone on his feet. The jacket that completed this particular ensemble was on the back of a wicker chair.
Francesca walked into the room from a door behind him. Talk about a maze. This whole place had been turned into a confusing labyrinth of interlocking rooms by the refurbishment. Even the old sections were a confusing selection but at least a lot of them had been sealed off. Fulton had got a moment alone where he took a look behind a couple of the barriers, just to see if there was anything they were hiding from him, but they were either bare or had various industrial equipment, most of it broken, littering the floor.
He turned around to see Francesca, resplendent in one of her fantasy outfits without the blades, regarding him approvingly.
"You scrub up well," she said looking him up and down.
"I guess I do," he answered.
He checked her out for another long moment. Her outfit was alluring, with fishnet stockings that came up to mid-thigh and were held in place by white suspenders. A thin black leather pair of, what looked like the outer clothes version of, knickers with metal studs were all she wore on her lower half. Her midriff was fully exposed. As his eyes tracked up they met a black leather bra that was covered by moulded metal plates to accentuate her contours. Thin golden metal bands shaped like sinuous snakes adorned her upper arms.
"Where could we be going that would need me to be dressed like this but would let you in like that? Not that I'm complaining about how you look," Fulton said not taking his eyes off her body.
"This is just for you to think about."
She opened a wardrobe and slipped into the red dress she removed from it. All that remained visible of her other outfit were the twin gold serpents entwining her upper arms.
"This is for everyone else."
They left the inner chambers and walked down the metal stairs to the main floor.
"Will Gabriella be joining us tonight?"
Ahead of him Francesca reached the bottom of the steps.
"Not this time."
"She seems like she can handle herself," he said.
"What have I told you about questioning my directions?"
"Hey, fine. You're the Mistress who am I to criticise how you do things?"
"Exactly. So come along.”
Chapter Nineteen
This is how vampires are often portrayed, Fulton thought looking around at the other party guests. It wasn't a black tie affair but it was very exclusive. Francesca didn't let on about how she had managed to get invitations to the little soirée but she had presented them to the professional greeters on the door and they had been guided inside.
It wasn't so formal that they had to be announced when they entered the room but it was close to being. Waiters and waitresses in formal wear worked the room with trays of drink and snacks. Tables with ornate tablecloths were against every wall and the servants replenished their stocks from them at regular intervals. Empty glasses were whisked out of sight and replaced by full ones in a blink of an eye. Classical music played from hidden speakers, perhaps under the tables.
The room that they were in was the main hall of a positively huge private house set amid lavish floodlit grounds several kilometres out into the countryside. A limousine had picked them up and dropped them off at the end of a long gravel driveway. The house was very grand and only seemed to get larger when it was looked at from inside. Marble statues were arrayed around the grounds. Inside paintings and portraits in gilded frames were hung on the walls. Decorative pillars stood tall in the hall and tapestries or curtains hung on or between them.
Fulton had not known that anyone with enough money to keep a place like this lived anywhere this close to where he had been brought up. For some reason he had thought that all the really rich people stayed down south. Perhaps whoever owned this place had decided to become a big fish in a small pond rather than a small fish in a big one.
Francesca held his hand in one of hers. In the other she had a flute of champagne that she pretended to sip from at random intervals. Leading him by the hand they mingled with the crowd.
"Some of us will try to tell you that the rich taste better than the poor. Take no notice of them. They're just like the human snobs who pretend they can taste every herb in a dish or who spend a fortune on some wine and so feel they have to pretend they can identify every flavour." Francesca said.
"What about holy blood, from a priest or
something? I've heard some people say that tastes better."
"They don't know what they are talking about. Are we hurt by the cross like some ignorant writers claim? No. Human religions are nothing to us. And don't be taken in by vampires who claim to have tasted Jesus' blood at the crucifixion. It was held in daylight so none of us could have been there, believe me."
She laughed. "A lot of those who claim to have been there are probably about as young as you."
Fulton smiled, and then they were in the midst of a crowd of people and vampire talk was off.
Francesca chatted easily with the other guests making small talk and fitting right in. Fulton found it more difficult. When he was human he had never associated with people like this and now he was a vampire he felt even more as if he didn't belong. More than ever he felt like he didn't belong anywhere.
He stood there at Francesca's side and laughed at the appropriate times. He nodded in agreement with some comments and made other responsive gestures but he never said anything but single monosyllabic comments. None of the people talking seemed to mind. They were all too full of themselves and obviously enjoyed the sounds of their own voices more than anything he could possibly contribute.
Francesca seemed oblivious to his discomfort with the situation. Or if she noticed it she made no effort to relax him or try to make him more comfortable. She just continued working the room with her practised ease.
They had been there for over two hours, during which time Fulton followed Francesca obediently around the room, when Francesca suddenly let go of his hand.
"I have some business to take care of with a couple of people upstairs. Will you be all right down here by yourself?"
"I'll manage," he answered a tad brusquely.
"You're sure?"
Fulton smiled. "I'll be fine. Go on and do whatever you have to do."
He watched her leave through a pair of tall doors with a grey-haired man in a black suit. Fulton meandered around the room again. Without Francesca he wasn't drawn into conversations with any of the other guests and that suited him fine.
He finished his wanderings by entering a patio area that gave a good view of the grounds. Those out here all seemed to be smokers. Forced outside by their fellows so that they could kill themselves without taking them with them. Fulton didn't mind breathing in the second-hand smoke, it would do him no harm.
Looking out past the sculpted bushes and statues lit with a ghostly light he realised that he had the perfect opportunity to leave Francesca and return to the solitary life. If he was really that uncomfortable, if he really wanted to escape from this life that was drawing him in. Another chance as good as this might not come again.
But Fulton was reluctant to take those first steps that would take him away from Francesca.
Francesca had refused to let Gabriella out with her and Fulton. But she had not told her that she had to remain in the nest. Gabriella was glad of a chance for a little bit of freedom, although she would much rather have Francesca there with her than not. But at least she could get away from the buildings that had started to feel more like a prison than a home for her.
She couldn't help being jealous at the attention Francesca was paying Fulton. Surely there was no need for them to be so intimate all of the time for Francesca to initiate him. Teasing without putting out could be just as, if not more, effective a lot of the time.
Francesca must be getting something out of the time they spent together as well. Something that meant she had been able to go without Gabriella's companionship for four days already. Gabriella was unsure whether she could stand another day apart. In two hundred and fifty plus years Francesca had never let it go this long without them being together.
Perhaps her Mistress had grown bored with her. Perhaps two and a half centuries was enough for her and she wanted to move on. To find a new partner for a while. Gabriella had had similar doubts before, and as she had done then, she put them out of her mind. Francesca had assured her that they would be together for all eternity and that was how it was going to be. She wouldn't allow herself to consider the alternatives.
Gabriella had been out and had hunted alone. She found nothing as delicious as the child from three nights before but settled for a pair of young lovers out for a stroll. She had only half drained each of them when she carried their bodies to the top of a footbridge that spanned across a dual carriageway. Waiting for the most opportune moment she hoisted them up onto the guard-rail.
She watched a pair of cars approach in the distance but did not let go of her gruesome load. A much larger pair of headlights rounded the faraway bend in the road and Gabriella made out the silhouette of a lorry behind them.
She waited until the heavy vehicle was too close to stop or swerve and pushed the bodies over the edge. There was a meaty, wet slap. Bones crunched and flesh was pulped under the wheels.
The driver of the vehicle tried to brake and turn away but it was already too late. Tyres screeched and the driver lost control slamming into the central divide. Metal screamed and gave way. The lorry tipped on to its side and finally came to a stop blocking three lanes of the carriageway. The bodies she had dropped were visible as nothing more than a tangled bloody mess spread out on the road, and mashed and tangled in the underside of the vehicle.
Laughing like she had never done without Francesca before, she jumped over the edge herself. But she landed safely on her feet. With one last look at the carnage she had wrought Gabriella headed back. Francesca would be appalled at the attention something like this would draw. At least the cause of death of her two victims would be impossible to determine now.
She made it back to the nest less than an hour before dawn and still giddy from her triumph. Her elation was swept away when she saw the guard who told her that Fulton was still with Francesca and that they had returned to her chambers an hour earlier. That meant another night in her dingy little hideaway for Gabriella. Alone.
She was sorely tempted to take Xavier up on his offer at that point so desperate was she for companionship. Any kind, any partner seemed suitable at that point. But she decided to wait until Francesca wanted her back. Why settle for less?
So she went back to her secret chamber. She entered the room with the conveyor belt that would admit her into her den. She climbed onto the belt and crawled through the curtains.
A rough hand grabbed her by the scruff of her neck and yanked her from the belt. She was thrown roughly into the dirt. She rolled along the floor until she slammed against the wall and jolted to a stop.
She had to take a moment to get her breath back before she faced whoever had attacked her.
A pair of booted feet at the end of thick legs came over to where she lay with her side against the wall. Gabriella remained unmoving. A large hand attached to an arm almost as thick as the legs reached down for her.
In a sudden burst of movement she took hold of the wrist and slid between the legs. She came up to her feet holding the arm between the owner’s legs. With a heave she lifted the arm upwards flipping the large vampire over to land on its back. He clutched at his groin moaning.
Two other male vampires, not quite as large as their companion but still rather big, had watched the display and now they closed in on her. The largest, who Gabriella had painfully floored, was now struggling up.
The only exit was back in the direction she had come in, but she had been thrown to the opposite side of the room and all three vampires approached from that direction. Between her and her way out.
Gabriella knew she would not be able to fight her way out past them and she was not quite fast or agile enough to slip past them all. So she used her only other method of defence, the one which she had used most and had been most effective in the past.
"Any one of you lays a finger on me and the Mistress will see that you suffer a long and painful death," she threatened.
All three of her attackers smiled at her lustily.
"I don't think she cares what happens to you anymo
re," The biggest said.
They continued to advance.
"She does care. Unless you leave now all three of you are dead."
"I don't think so. Take a look around, girly. She makes you live like this and you think she cares. I think we can do with you as we please and then tell the Mistress every detail of what we did to you and she won't bat an eye."
Gabriella backed away until she was trapped against the back wall.
"Get away from me. I'll scream."
"Please do. No-one will hear you."
The leader of the group stood directly in front of her. His minions flanked him on either side. Facing her he moved his eyes to each of them and gave an almost imperceptible nod. The smaller two vampires moved in.
Gabriella tried to strike out at them but they pinned her arms back to the wall at her sides. They each used one of their legs to slightly separate hers and to trap them against the wall as well. When she was fully pinned their fully recovered leader moved closer.
He reached down with his hand. She tried to squirm away from his touch but she could move very little. He pressed his fingers against her.
"Come on you little whore. The way you swan around us looking like a tart, teasing us all. Don't pretend you haven't asked for this."
Gabriella closed her eyes as tears ran down.
Xavier had followed Gabriella and waited outside when she entered her hideaway. Now he lay peeking through the flaps. Gabriella was pinned back against the wall weeping. The largest vampire had started feeling her up. Things were going according to plan.
This could not happen to her. She was Gabriella Pendolari. She was the favourite of Francesca dela Fuente. She had commanded the nest in the name of her Mistress. Vampires should be afraid to even look at her the wrong way in case she took offence and had the Mistress punish them. They should not attack her and assault her. They should definitely not indecently assault her within the same nest as their Mistress.
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